Harry's hand paused in mid-air as he was filling the bag with coins.
"Hermione… " Dan said, his voice a steady warning.
"Oh, Harry!" she gasped and he heard a thunk as she set down the album and smelled dust rising in the air.
Harry tried to fill his lungs with air again… but was only able to take a shallow breath. He set down the bag and rocked back, grasping his knees. Hermione scrambled over to him and threw her arms around him, hugging him tight.
"I'm so sorry, Harry—I was thoughtless," she said.
They rocked together for a little bit and then Harry lessened the hold on his knees and Hermione let him go. He patted her hand. He tried to compose himself and felt around on the floor for the bag and resumed counting, though he had forgotten where he was. He figured he had enough for a while and stood up slowly.
Gargnuk grumbled impatiently.
He drew in a deeper breath and tried to speak, but his voice wasn't back yet. He closed his mouth and eyes, then tried again.
"Did you want to ta-ke some of th-em with us, Hermione? The bo-oks?" he asked—his voice cracking and his lungs burning with the effort to breathe and talk when what he really wanted to do was cry.
"Um, only if you want to, Harry," she said quietly.
"Why don't you choose a couple that you think might be interesting," Harry said.
He heard Hermione going slowly back over to the books and then coming back to him.
"Here, let's take these," she said, tapping his hand with the edge of a book.
He shook out his staff and opened the storage window and then grasped the top one and put it inside, then grabbed the second one. They both felt as if they were bound in aged leather. The first one was smaller and lighter, the second one more substantial. He pushed them into his staff. He put about twenty galleons in his pocket to convert to pounds and put the rest of the bag in his staff for later.
Hermione was quiet as she offered her arm to lead him back to the track and the clanking cart. He listened as Gargnuk sealed the vault again.
"Here is your key, Mr. Potter," Gargnuk said.
"Thank you," Harry said and placed it back in his staff.
Harry felt as though his brain were being rattled as they rode back up the track to the surface—the lurching cart seemed intent on making his head hurt.
Why hadn't he thought to look around his vault more the first time he visited? What if he'd found those books and albums earlier? When he could see?
He tried to push away the desire to see the images. It was just like the Mirror of Erised—tempting him with what could have been not what was.
When they had converted his galleons to pounds and he had stored them safely in his staff, they went back outside. The sun had come out for a bit and though Harry had to close his eyes to the painful brightness of the sun, he did enjoy the warmth on his face.
Hermione had brought out the map that Godric had made for them and was unrolling it.
"Haripreet, it's a tactile map—do you want to see where we are and where we're headed?" Hermione asked. "Hmmm. I wonder how… "
"How what?" Harry asked.
"How Godric marked the map so that you could read it… I should have paid closer attention. I think it was his quill—I don't think he was casting a spell," Hermione pondered.
Harry reached for the map and asked, "Are we out of the way?"
"Yeah, we're fine here. Here's a ledge, you can put the map on it and spread it out so you can… look at it."
"Where are we headed next, kids?" Dan asked.
Harry ran his fingers over the map and listened as the aftí in his ear read the braille labels to him.
"I guess it makes most sense to go to the quill shop first—it is right next to Flourish & Blotts… oh, the Magical Menagerie is just two doors down from Gringotts. We could go look at the snakes… " Harry said. "This map is pretty cool."
"Snakes? Really?" Dan said, a shudder evident in his voice.
"Oh, come on, Dad. They aren't that bad," Hermione said.
"Slimy, awful things," Dan said.
"They aren't slimy—they are silky smooth," said Harry, thinking of Little Friend.
"Hari-preet, if we go look at snakes, aren't you going to want to talk to them?" Hermione said.
"Um, yeah?" Harry responded.
"Well, aren't you the only known Parselmouth in the United Kingdom?" Hermione said.
"What? Really?" Harry said. "I can't be the only one!"
"I think so," Hermione said.
"Oh, well maybe I can be sneaky about it," Harry said.
"I don't know… " Hermione said.
"They might not even have snakes for all we know," Harry said.
"Oh, alright. But let's be careful," Hermione said.
"Always," Harry said, smiling wistfully in her direction.
She nudged him in response and he rolled up the scroll and tucked it in his pocket.
Harry smelled the Magical Menagerie before they entered. It smelled like hay, oats, and urine. The sounds the animals made also echoed out into the street and he wondered how well they were being cared for. He thought of Hagrid and what he'd do for these animals. Hermione led him to a corner in the back and explained that there was just one snake in a glass aquarium next to tanks with toads and salamanders.
"No one is about if you want to try to talk to it—er them," Hermione whispered. Dr. Granger had let them go on their own, content to look at the dancing rats at the front of the shop.
It took Harry a second to figure out what the odd rumbling sound was, but then he figured out that a cat was winding his way around Hermione's legs and purring.
"I thought you said there was just one snake," Harry said, confused.
"It's a runespoor," Hermione said. "It has three heads—so I guess it is a 'they'."
"Three heads?" Harry said.
"Yes, the label says that the left head is the planner, the middle head is the dreamer, and the right head is the critic," Hermione informed him.
Harry cocked his head toward the glass case where he could hear three distinct voices speaking in Parseltongue.
"Why are you nudging me? I was just about to eat the juiciest, most luscious… and now it's gone. Poof!" said a soft snakey voice.
"Focus, you two! Listen here's a chance. Some humans are looking at us. Maybe they'll reach in and we'll be able to escape!" said one sibilant voice.
"They'd never do that! What human in their right mind would stick their hand in our tank! We're stuck in here until we bite off each other's heads or until that Kneazle decides to play with us for a while and then eat us," said a third, sharper voice.
Harry started to chuckle.
"What is it?" Hermione said.
"Yep, three heads and three opinions. I think they'd drive me nuts. They'd never be able to guide me. They'd be too busy arguing. But I feel sorry for them, stuck in a tank waiting for a Kneazle to torment them to death," Harry said. "What's a Kneazle?"
The cat at Hermione's feet meowed loudly.
"I think it is a cat-like creature—like a miniature lion," Hermione said, "Aren't you a beauty! Yes, you are!"
She was down on the floor making these exclamations and rumbling noise got so loud that Harry was sure that he could feel through the wooden floorboards.
Harry could feel someone approaching them through the floorboards as well and turned his face toward them expectantly.
"How are you two getting on back here? Is there anything you'd like to look at more closely?" asked the store clerk who greeted them when they came in. "Oh, are you getting on with Crookshanks? Well, that's lovely! Let me know if you need anything or if you have any questions!" And she ambled off, back to the front of the store.
"Oh, Haripreet, he's the most beautiful creature! Oh, I wish I could keep him!" Hermione said. "Come on, don't you want to pet him?"
"Why can't you?" Harry asked as he tried to find Hermione's shoulder, found the back of her head, then her shoulder and then crouched down next to her, leaning a bit on his staff. He followed her arm to the mass of rumbling fur that was nuzzling her hands. The cat twitched when he ran his fingers down its back and up the tail.
"I don't think it likes me as much as it likes you," he murmured.
"I can't ask right now. I'm grounded," Hermione said heavily as she stood up.
"Are you ready to head out?" Harry asked following her up.
"Yes, let's go check out the quills," Hermione said, though it was clear she was having trouble tearing her attention away from Crookshanks.
The cat followed them back to the front of the store, making little mews as it trailed behind them.
"Crookshanks, I'll come back later… if you're still here when I'm not grounded anymore, I'll take you home with me. Okay? I promise," Hermione solemnly informed the cat.
"What's that?" Dan asked.
"Dad, I know I can't get him now because, well, I'm grounded. But if he's still here when we're back in August getting school supplies, then I'd really like to take him home with me," Hermione explained in her maddeningly grown-up voice.
"Okay, we'll talk to your mum about it. The snake didn't suit you, Harri -preet?" Dan asked.
"It was argumentative… I didn't think that'd be a good quality in a guide snake," Harry explained.
"Yeah, I suppose you're right. So, we're off, then?" Dan asked.
"Thank you, come again!" the clerk called as they left through the door. Crookshanks meowed piteously and it wasn't until they were several shops away that Harry couldn't hear the cat anymore. Hermione's arm under his hand was very tense until they were finally out of earshot of the caterwauling cat.
As they passed under the shadow of Gringotts again, Harry was certain he could feel the magic humming through the cobblestones.
The bells on the door into Scribulus Writing Instruments rang clearly, announcing their entrance and giving Harry a sense of the small space. The store had a citrusy aroma and Harry's staff tinged on a wooden bookcase or countertop just a few steps into the shop.
"How may I help you?" A clerk asked from nearby as they entered, making Harry start.
"I'd like to look at your Quick Quotes Quills," Harry said, speaking over Hermione who had also started to answer. He squeezed her arm.
"Oh, certainly, come this way… our selection is over here," he said as his footsteps sounded on a hardwood floor, slightly muffled behind a counter that seemed to stretch the length of the small shop.
"So what are you looking for in your QQQ?" the clerk asked.
"Um, well, Haripreet—what do you need?" Hermione asked, sounding flustered. Harry wondered why.
"Uh, well, I suppose accuracy would be good. It might be handy if it can also write in braille, once I learn braille… " Harry said.
"So he's still learning braille?" the clerk asked.
"Er, yes, I am," Harry said, irked.
"Please, can you speak directly to Haripreet?" Hermione asked, "He's the one getting the quill."
"Oh, right," the clerk said and then in a much louder, slower voice asked, "ARE YOU AT HOGWARTS?"
And without waiting for an answer, turned back to Hermione and asked in his normal voice, "So what year is he?"
"I'm a thir—er I'll be a first year… " Harry responded; his ears burned.
"Hmmm. Well, they aren't usually allowed at Hogwarts for first years. But I imagine he'll have special permissions," said the clerk as he slid open a door to a small case and started placing boxes (by the sound of it) on a glass countertop.
Harry stopped and Hermione was brought up short.
"Let's just go, Hermione," he said, dropping her arm and turning abruptly, swinging his staff in a half arc that caught Dr. Granger in the leg.
"Oh, sorry, sir," Harry fumbled, but then kept going when he stepped out of the way until he was out on the street.
He could hear Hermione giving the clerk advice on how to talk to customers as he left… respectfully, but in her high-pitched righteous-indignation voice. He could hear the clerk's resentful tones following Hermione out the door.
Harry kept walking, swinging his staff in a wide arch and listening with satisfaction as it tinged off lampposts and storefronts. The wet cobblestones were slippery and he slid and stumbled a bit in his haste. If there were other people on the pavement, they were steering well clear of Harry. Hermione's footsteps splashed behind him, catching up.
"That was awful, Harry. I'm so sorry," she apologized.
"Don't you apologize. You weren't the git who thought I wasn't capable of shopping for my own quill," Harry seethed.
"Yeah. Maybe the other shop will be better… since they sell adaptive magical objects," Hermione said, panting as she tried to keep up with Harry. "Oh, Harry—I think we passed it. It's on the other side of the street."
He slowed, but wasn't willing to stop yet. Finally, he stopped and turned toward Hermione. She pulled him to the side of the pavement as people passed by them.
"I guess I was pretty rude to that bloke… but he wasn't taking any hints or even you telling him not to do that directly!" Harry sputtered. "And I just couldn't be in there any longer. Is it going to be like this everywhere I go?"
He stomped his foot and wildly gestured with his hand that wasn't holding his staff until he accidentally hit Hermione.
"Sorry," he said.
"I get it, Harry! It's awful. And the way he was looking at you… well, yeah," Hermione agreed.
"How was he looking at me?" Harry asked.
"Well, I don't know. It made me uncomfortable… like Malfoy looking down his nose at me," Hermione said quietly as some more people walked by.
"Oh, well, it's good we're well shot of him, then," said Harry, still feeling pretty heated about it.
"I mean, not everyone is going to be like that. Okay, there was the lady at the menagerie —she didn't do it, did she? And the bank clerk and Gargnuk were fine," Hermione said.
"Yeah, that's true. I guess it just depends on the people," Harry sighed.
Dr. Granger's solid footsteps joined them where they had stopped on the pavement. The potion ingredient aromas here were strong, making Harry wonder if they were outside the apothecary. He remembered it being down at this end of the alley—not far from the Leaky Cauldron Egress.
"You all right, Harry?" Hermione's dad asked.
"Yeah, sorry about hitting you in the leg with my staff. I didn't hurt you, did I?" Harry asked, mortified.
"No, it was just a tap. So, where was the other place that carries these fancy quills?"
"It's just across the street," Hermione said.
"I guess we can head over there," Harry sighed, taking Hermione's arm.
"There's a step down here," Hermione said as they headed across the street. "Oh, there's a puddle, let's go this way." She tugged him to her right and he stumbled a bit at the abruptness.
Harry was trying to remember what was on this side of the street when his staff struck something metal that had a hollow bell sound.
"Was that a cauldron?" he asked Hermione.
"Yeah, sorry, I should have moved over more," she said. "There was someone passing us at the same time."
It seemed like the street was getting busier—more footsteps were splashing through the occasional puddles.
They were passing a shop that must have been the source of the pumpkin pastie smell when they heard someone call, "Hi, Hermione!" and Hermione seemed to twist and then stop as footsteps approached them.
"Oh, hi, Hannah. How're you?" Hermione said.
"I didn't expect to see you here today," Hannah said.
Harry was trying to place her voice and name. He was sure he had heard it before. And then he remembered the conversation in the library when he was trying to track down Justin Finch-Fletchley after the disastrous dueling match. He almost said something, and then he remembered that he wasn't supposed to know her. He was Haripreet Batra.
"Oh, yes, we are just getting my friend here, Haripreet Batra, some supplies," Hermione said a bit nervously. "Haripreet—this is Hannah Abbott," Hermione said with an emphasis that made Harry squirm a bit.
"Hi, nice to meet you," Harry said, sticking his hand out and finding that Hannah already had hers out, so they fumbled a bit until they were actually shaking hands.
"And this is my dad, Dr. Granger," Hermione said.
"Nice to meet you, sir," Hannah said, then her voice was directed toward Harry. "Do you also go to Hogwarts, Haripreet? You seem familiar… have I met you before?… but… " Hannah seemed like she was trying to puzzle something out. Harry felt the back of his neck get hot, realizing that she was scrutinizing him.
"No, I . I . . I'm going to be a first year… if we stay in Britain. We… we might go back to New Delhi," Harry stumbled.
"Oh, that sounds neat. I imagine it is beautiful there," Hannah said.
"Er, well, I've never seen it," Harry said, smiling weakly.
"What? You've never been there? Or are you… " Hannah squeaked.
"I mean, I was born here," Harry said, deciding on the truth.
"Oh, right. Hey, Hermione, when I saw you I thought that maybe you'd know… you know, you're such a good friend of his… I was wondering… have you heard from Harry Potter?—Hey, that's funny that your name is so similar!"
Both Harry and Hermione laughed nervously at that, but Hannah continued.
"Is he okay? Last I heard everyone was talking about him having fought a Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, that he was seriously injured and had to go to St. Mungo's. I keep checking the paper, I mean, I thought they'd at least write about it, but nothing. Can you believe that? I mean the school had a gigantic serpent living in the dungeons and not a thing in the Daily Prophet! I have half a mind to write to them and ask, but then I thought that maybe they'd close the school… and I would hate that. Anyway, I've been really worried. He was always so nice to me, and well, I'd hate it if he got hurt," Hannah said gulping air.
"Oh, well, yes, he's doing okay. He's been busy this summer… with his studies… he's going to a school in London," Hermione said.
"Huh? That's funny. I never thought he was much of a studier. Extra school during the summer. It's not remedial, though. He seems pretty smart," Hannah said and Harry harrumphed and aimed a little kick at Hermione's ankle. "But I'm glad that he's okay. I thought… well, the way people were talking… it just sounded so bad and him being an orphan and everything… I wondered," Hannah said.
Harry was holding tight onto Hermione's arm wishing for Hannah to stop talking.
"Yeah, he's okay," Hermione said again as she balanced on one foot and Harry thought that by the way she was moving that she must be rubbing her ankle on her other leg.
"Sorry," Harry muttered out of the corner of his mouth and heard her hair swish over her shoulder like she was shooting him a glare.
"Well, I better catch up with me mum. I really am so glad. Thank you! Good to see you, nice to meet you, Haripreet, Dr. Granger."
"Ni . . nice to meet you, too," Harry stammered as her footsteps clattered off across the wet cobblestones.
"Well, your disguise held up… that's good, right?" said Dr. Granger from behind Harry and Hermione while they both let out sighs.
"Sure, but she was really staring at you, Harry," Hermione said as they started walking again.
"I know!" Harry said. "I could almost feel it—it was so intense—do you think she figured out who I was?"
"No, I don't think so," Hermione said. "Okay, here we are—we're going to turn. There's a bit of a step."
Harry made a small sweep with his staff to find out how high "a bit of a step" was and took in a deep breath as they crossed the threshold into the shop. This shop sounded bigger than the Scribulus shop—but full of more things. There were a lot of aromas, but underneath them all there was an oily lemony smell—like a furniture oil and he imagined that there were a lot of bookshelves in here. There were also more people talking in here… which made his heart speed up a bit. It had been more nerve-wracking than he cared to admit to run into someone from Hogwarts.
Thank goodness for Healer Jordan's disguise. Maybe I could just go to Hogwarts as Haripreet—the blind kid from India… leave all the Harry Potter crap behind.
He lifted his hand to his forehead and ran his fingers over the smoothed skin—where his scar had been.
"Haripreet, I think we're going to have to ask a clerk to help us find the adaptive magical items. Let's hope they aren't gits," Hermione said under her breath. Harry felt comforted by the presence of Dr. Granger behind them, though he was clearly interested in the items in this shop. He could hear him stopping to pick things up and set them down again as they made their way in.
"Excuse me," Hermione said to someone who was walking by, "I was wondering if you could tell us where to find your adaptive magical items? We're looking for a Quick Quotes Quill and other things."
"Oh, yes. Certainly. Let me just set this down and then I can take to that area of the shop," responded someone with a friendly voice. They stood waiting, while Dan fiddled with small objects behind them. The noises he made reminded Harry of Arthur.
"Okay, thanks for waiting. We've got some really brilliant things right over here," the clerk said.
Hermione started following the footsteps of the clerk. The store seemed pretty crowded with things and people—Harry held his staff almost parallel to his body as a bit of a buffer and it kept tinging into things as they walked as if not everything was neatly contained on the shelves. He stayed as close to Hermione as he could, afraid that he'd accidentally knock something off a shelf.
"So, here are the Quick Quotes Quills—these ones are just the standard ones that will transcribe what is being spoken in an area—they will write down everything that everyone is saying or you can modify the spell so that it just picks up the voices of your professors, for instance. So, they are handy for taking notes at school and in other situations, interviews, etc. That's what we find most people use them for," the clerk said. "Um, do you want to hold this one?"
It took a moment for Harry to realize that the question was directed at him.
"Sure," he responded and collapsed his staff and stuck it in his pocket and held out his hand, palm up. The clerk placed the feathery item in Harry's hand. Harry let go of Hermione so he could feel it with his right hand. He felt a bit self-conscious as it seemed like both Hermione and the clerk were watching him explore the quill with his fingers. It felt like a standard quill to him.
"Um, does it write in ink? How long does it take the ink to dry?" Harry thought to ask.
"Oh, yes. Good question. It is a very quick-drying ink. Do you use a reader? If you do, you don't have to wait to read what the quill has written down. It won't smear," the clerk offered.
"How do you know if you're going to run out of parchment?" Harry asked.
"Well, what I've seen some people do is keep a hand on the parchment and track where the quill is writing by touch and then switch out parchment when needed. Or you can get a quill that is specially designed for people with low vision and it'll let you know when you need to provide more parchment. They also will write in braille," the clerk explained. "Here's one of those quills, if you'd like to check it out." He took the standard quill from Harry's hands and replaced it with the more specialized quill. Harry felt it to see if he could tell the difference between them and found that this quill had three braille letters where the feathers met the quill, just above the nib. He puzzled over them for a second and then it hit him—"b-r-l"—the contraction for braille. He took in a sharp breath.
"What is it?" Hermione asked.
"I read it. It says 'braille,'" Harry said.