Basilisk Eyes

Chapter 55: Moving forward

Harry stood with Lieutenant Holman on the deck of the HMS Eden as it rocked gently in its mooring. The air hung heavily about them and Harry felt like he had been dipped in sweat and then coated with dust. He thought about what Lieutenant Holman said... about deciding how he was going to move forward. He felt like he'd been doing a lot of that already... moving, moving, moving. What he really wanted to do was rest a bit. Even though he'd been able to nap a little yesterday and then slept a long time last night, he still felt so bone tired.

Was resting moving forward? He wondered.

He didn't think it was what other people wanted him to do. Resting was definitely not what the Dursleys wanted him to do, except when they wanted him out of sight, pretending he didn't exist.

That's different from resting. The Dursleys aren't here, Harry told himself sternly, trying to banish them from his mind. Pretend they don't exist!

"What did you do, Lieutenant, when... you first lost your sight?" Harry asked.

"Ah, well. I was very ill and was attempting to find balm for my ailments in the healing waters at Bath so that I could return to active duty. I was staying with dear friends who were so kind as to let me trespass on their hospitality while I attempted to find a cure for my flighty gout. Instead of improving, alas, I suffered from a terrible pain in my eyes from which even cold compresses, dark rooms, and a seemingly endless supply of leeches could not release me. Finally, the pain left, but it took my vision with it and after several weeks, I felt I couldn't burden my friends any longer and I returned home. Those first few weeks were very challenging and I don't have much to offer you in terms of inspiration or even guidance. In fact, I was not up and about traveling independently for many months. I am loathe to speak of those first few months as they do not reflect well on my character. You, Mr. Potter, seem to be made of sterner stuff than I. I was twice your age and still, it took me a very long time to rally and seek adventure. You are already scaling mountains and plunging into the jungles... and you've only had a month to accustom yourself to your lost sight." Lieutenant James Holman's speech was archaic in style, but it felt sincere.

"Well, I didn't have much choice... " muttered Harry.

"And yet, here you are... aboard the HMS Eden and contemplating a journey to the shore," Lieutenant Holman added brightly. "So, what's it going to be? Are you going to stay aboard or venture down the plank?"

"How do you go down the plank?" Harry asked.

"Well, I prefer to follow some stout, surefooted fellow and place my hands on his shoulders as he descends," the Lieutenant said.

"I'm not sure if there are many of those around right now," Harry stalled.

"Come on, then, let's see who we can find!" the Lieutenant grasped Harry's arm firmly, placed his hand on his elbow, and started moving toward the group of people who were still waiting their turn to deboard. He had a peculiar scent—damp wool, but also an overlay of sweat mixed with unusual spices—it was different, but not unpleasant.

"I'm in search of a hearty soul upon whom this lad can lean upon while going down the gangplank!" Lieutenant Holman said in a booming voice that surprised Harry. "Who is willing to lend their shoulders?"

Harry felt the heat spreading across his chest and up his neck. At the rate he was going, he was going to be permanently flushed with embarrassment.

"I can do it, Sir," Tony answered. Harry was surprised.

"Well, there you go, Mr. Potter! You have a volunteer!"

"Hi, Tony," Harry muttered.

"Well, you know each other! That's grand!" Lieutenant Holman seemed genuinely pleased.