Harry was glad to exit the department store—the piped in music was driving him mad. Dr. Granger had graciously offered to carry the large plastic bag that contained his new trousers, t-shirts, shirts, pants, and socks since they couldn't stuff it into his staff in a store teaming with muggles. He was wearing his new trainers and really liked how they felt. He was thankful that Hermione had graciously excused herself and allowed her dad to take Harry shopping for pants alone. It didn't take them long. Dr. Granger was thankfully very efficient and understanding about the whole process. They had found Hermione not too far away in the very small section of books and magazines that the department store housed.
"Just coffee table books, really—nothing with any substance," Hermione complained.
They were walking along Rose Street on their way back to the Center. Harry was very much aware that their day was coming to an end. He was mulling over a comment a store clerk had made about Harry being Dr. Granger's adopted son. It had surprised both of them… but it made a warmth erupt in Harry's chest that he'd never felt when people had made the assumption that Uncle Vernon was his dad. He'd always been quick to correct them… 'No, he's my uncle,' and even that level of familiarity had been too close for comfort.
The sun had come out and Harry could smell the water burning off the pavement now. The puddles were few and far between.
"Dad, you said I could spend some time in the library at the Center, remember? And it's only 3:30 pm," Hermione was pleading with her dad who had advocated for leaving when they had reached 56 Charing Cross Road.
"Okay, Hermione. I'm going to come back and get you at 5 pm. I'll go see if I can find that French Provencal cookbook Emma's been wanting. Her birthday is coming up," Dr. Granger acquiesced.
"Thanks, Dad!" Hermione squeaked, jumping up to hug him.
"Thank you, Dr. Granger. It was a good day," Harry said.
"Yes, it was, Harry. Thank you. It was a fine thing to spend the day with you," Dr. Granger grasped his shoulder and squeezed and then headed out the Egress.
"Wouldn't it be cool if I could just be Haripreet Batra?" Harry said, turning back to Hermione. "You said that he went back to India, right? Maybe I could just be a new kid at Hogwarts. No one special. Well, except for… yeah. And Snape wouldn't pay any attention to me—just like at the apothecary. No one knew who I was at Diagon Alley—not Hannah, not Snape, not Chester… "
Harry ran his fingers over his forehead, where a scar should have been. It was pretty nice.
"I wonder how many wixen do this all the time? Seems like it would be so easy to just be someone else," Harry mused.
"Um, Harry, did you notice how people treated you today?" Hermione said.
"Er, what do you mean?" Harry asked.
"Oh, well. Maybe… um…" Hermione hedged.
"What did they do? I mean I noticed how the guy in the quill shop ignored me and then shouted like he thought I was deaf, too. Yeah. Was there other stuff that I missed?" Harry asked, his heart speeding up.
"Well, it was just the way some people looked at you," Hermione said.
"How'd they look at me?" Harry asked, his shoulders slumping.
"Er. Forget I said it, okay? It doesn't matter," Hermione said.
"Well, obviously it does since you brought it up. Were they looking at me weird because I'm… you know, blind?" he said.
"No, I think it was because of your appearance—your dark skin. It was different from when we were out yesterday," Hermione said.
"Really? Well, yesterday I was essentially invisible," Harry shrugged.
"Yeah, well. I guess it just seemed like people were treating you differently today. Anyway, wouldn't a charm like what you have on your staff just reveal who you are?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, I guess so, if they already had identified me," Harry sighed. "I don't think it is based on visuals… it knows when Adam is in a room, after all, and most people can't see him. I imagine there are other ways to tell who people are."
"Who's Adam?" Hermione asked.
"He's a resident—he's invisible, I guess—from vanishing sickness," Harry explained.
"Oh, that'd be hard," Hermione said. "And, anyway, everyone would be in an uproar if Harry Potter just up and disappeared."
"Yeah, I guess so," Harry said, trying hard not to reveal how disappointed he was.
"Maybe Healer Jordan can just keep my scar transfigured, then," Harry said as Hermione slowed. He guessed that they were in front of Healer Jordan's office now.
"You can always ask," Hermione said as she knocked on the door.
"Right," Harry said.
"Enter," someone called from the other side of the door and Hermione pushed it open.
"Come on in, Harry and Hermione. How was your outing today? Did the Transfiguration do the trick?" Healer Jordan asked.
"Yes, thank you, Healer Jordan. It was a lot better than that disillusionment charm we used yesterday. No one bumped into me and no one recognized me, even though we ran into some people we knew from Hogwarts," Harry said.
"I'm glad to hear that it worked. And you were still able to access your vault, yes?" Healer Jordan said.
"Yes, thank you," Harry said. "I was wondering… would it be okay for me to keep my scar transfigured like this? Hidden?"
"Oh, well, I certainly understand the temptation, Harry, but I'm afraid I'll have to restore all of your appearance while you're at the Center, otherwise, people might catch on that we're altering your appearance when you go out," Healer Jordan explained.
"Oh, okay. I thought you might say something like that. I rather liked being Haripreet Batra, though. I wouldn't mind being him all the time, if it were possible," Harry muttered while Healer Jordan lifted the spells that changed his appearance. He felt his forehead and traced the familiar lightning bolt pattern and felt a little more weighed down by gravity than he had moments before.
oO0OooO0OooO0OooO0Oo
As they walked through the corridor to the library, Harry leaned toward Hermione and said, "Let's look at the photo album in the library with my digitus, okay?"
"Yes, I was hoping we could," Hermione said. "And there were some other books I was hoping to look at more closely. I'm really curious about why your repairs turn rainbow colors and I'm hoping there are books in the library that will tell us why that's happening. Oh, and do you have a slate and stylus? The one I mail ordered hasn't come yet. I've been reading about braille, but I was also hoping to try writing it, as well."
"Yes, and that's a lot to do in—what—an hour before you have to be back at the reception area to meet your dad?" Harry teased.
They were greeted at the door by a message from Besel welcoming them to the library at the same time that it explained that she was out and they were on their own. They settled at the table that overlooked the courtyard (according to Hermione). Hermione ran over to the stacks to get books while Harry summoned the books they just retrieved from his vault, his anagnóstis, the digitus, the slate and stylus, parchment, and the quick quotes quill from his staff.
Harry ran his fingers over the books and swallowed. His throat was a bit dry. He felt for his anagnóstis and ran it over the cover, but didn't find any text. He opened the cover and felt a delicate tissue page. He turned it and ran his fingers over a page with pasted photographs.
He found the top photo on the left-hand side of the page and lined up the digitus and pulled it across the photo. He set down the tool and found that there was braille underneath the frame of the image. He tried to read it, but it was taking too long to figure out, so he grabbed his anagnóstis and was surprised by a boy's voice that sounded kind of familiar saying, 'papa and mum and Fleabag, 1972,' in his aftí. He wondered who Fleabag was.
He was intrigued and started running his fingers over the forms that were emerging—larger than the frame and jumping up to meet his fingers. While he was exploring the image, trying to figure it out, he heard Hermione place a stack of books on the table and start to sort through them. She flipped open one of the books and he heard her take the slate and stylus that he had set out along with a piece of parchment. He heard the slate puncturing the parchment and then the rhythmic punching noises of the stylus.
"Hermione, is this a man and a woman standing on a porch, waving?" Harry finally asked. "Are they older? Is there a small dog that's bouncing around at their feet?"
"Yeah, I think those are your dad's parents, Harry. They must have been pretty old when they had your dad," Hermione said.
"So, that was my dad's voice…"
"What really? You heard your dad's voice?" Hermione gasped.
"Yeah, with my anagnóstis. It's the best thing about it… it talks in the voice of the person who wrote the words," Harry explained.
"So these people… they're my grandparents," Harry said. "They must be dead, right? I mean if they were still alive I wouldn't have to live with the Dursleys."
"Yeah, probably. They look pretty old in 1972 and that was over twenty years ago," Hermione agreed. "Run your digitus over the next one. It says it is your dad getting ready to go to Hogwarts. He's on the same porch with the same dog and it says 1972. He's wearing his robes. You look a lot like him. He has glasses, too."
"He sounds like me, too," Harry said as he pulled the digitus over the photograph.
Harry felt the form of a boy trying to hold onto a rambunctious dog that was constantly jumping out of his arms and licking him in the face. He could feel the glasses on the boy's face and his messy hair. Harry touched his own hair—marveling at how the miniature version of his dad's hair had the same texture.
"Hermione, are there photos of my mum in here?" Harry asked. He started to turn the page and then realized he had to end the charm that made the images three-dimensional. He touched the digitus to the images and said, "Non tangere," and felt the glossy surface of the photographs that had been restored to their original shape.
"Yeah, those are the ones I saw—at the back of the album. The newest part," Hermione said as she helped him flip to the back of the album. "Here, try this page."
He found the photographs and pulled the digitus across them, then used the anagnóstis to read the caption.
A soothing voice spoke in his ear, "James, Harry, and Lily—our new family—August 1980." Harry took the aftí off his ear, and ran the anagnóstis over the braille again—so that Hermione could hear Lily's voice, too.
His fingers were trembling as he felt the small forms that were warm to touch—his mum holding him—tiny baby Harry and his dad sitting next to them, arm around his mum's shoulders. He could feel his mum gently rocking him and the way his dad was pulling both of them against his body—like he couldn't get close enough. He could feel the smiles on their faces and the way his parents both were gazing at him. He took a moment to explore the room they were sitting in. It was a cozy living room, a bit cluttered with books and newspapers. He went back to the three forms on the couch—they were warm to the touch.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione breathed as she squeezed him, laying her head on his shoulder.
"Yeah," Harry agreed.
oO0OooO0OooO0OooO0Oo
After Hermione left, Harry decided to skip dinner—he was still full from the late lunch and he didn't want to experience a repeat of the dinner the night before with Gordon. He wandered around the Center for a little bit and then, before he really realized what he was doing, he was walking through the door of the Gym out to the park of Old Ellerby.
Harry inhaled deeply—he could almost taste the grass that must have been recently mown—it was so thick in the air. He did a quick check of the area to see if there were any people nearby and was relieved that the coast was clear.
He pulled out his broom, stuck his staff into the slot in his broom handle, and pushed off, revelling in the way the cool evening air moved through his hair and made his T-shirt whip around his torso.
He felt absolutely free. There was nothing for him to run into, nothing to trip him up, no hands coming out of nowhere to pull him somewhere he didn't want to go.
He had a momentary memory of Professor McGonagall's fierce voice insisting that he could not fly and imagined knocking it out of the way with a bludger batt. She might be able to forbid it at Hogwarts, but right now, he knew that Healer Jordan and Godric, even Figora and Besel, weren't going to stand in his way.
He felt the sand that had been weighing down his limbs trickle out of his toes and he urged his broom higher into the sky.
He could be himself up here.
He could do what he did best.
He could fly.
oO0OooO0OooO0OooO0Oo
Harry remembered to cast the Scribunt loqui charm as he was walking back to his dorm, hopeful that Gemma would be back. It felt weird to be walking on the ground again after soaring on his broom for what seemed like hours after dinner. He cast the Reveleo memento as he entered the room and greeted Aminah.
Harry went over to Aminah's area.
"Hey, how are you doing? Do you know if Arig's okay? Has he come back yet?"
"I'm okay, Harry. Thanks. Um, I haven't heard about Arig yet. Isn't it still a full moon?"
"Yeah, I guess so. I just thought he'd be back by now. Was your weekend okay?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, it was good. My mum made some of my favorite foods that I've been missing," Aminah said.
"What dishes did she make?" Harry was asking when the door opened and he heard Gemma's footsteps running up to him. She hugged him after waving across his hand and then hopped over to Aminah to greet her.
"Hi, Gemma. How was your weekend?" Aminah asked.
"That's good. I'm glad," Aminah must have been responding to Gemma's protactile signing. "Hey, I'm pretty tired, Harry and Gemma—so I'm going to go get ready for bed."
Harry and Gemma said their good-nights to Aminah as Gemma tugged Harry over to her desk so that they could catch up on their weekend using his anagnóstis and her notebook.
He was excited to tell her about flying and the photo album of his family. She was excited to show him her broom and share the pumpkin pasties she'd made with her mom that morning. They laughed as they dropped crumbs on the paper and the smears of pumpkin made funny noises in Harry's ear that he had a hard time explaining to Gemma.
"Would you two quiet down already!" Mei shouted from across the room.
"Hi Mei," Harry greeted. "Welcome back!"