Basilisk Eyes

Chapter 88: What's your excuse?

Hermione was still muttering about the way the shop clerk talked to Harry as the group made their way out to the street, eating their cones and thanking Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for the treat. Harry might have participated in abusing him, too, if he hadn't been so worried about how he was going to manage eating an ice cream cone while walking and trying to navigate the busy street. A large vehicle roared by and it sounded so close that Harry was certain it must be up on the pavement. He clutched at Hermione's arm and froze until it went past. He let out a breath.

"It's just a lorry, Harry," Hermione spoke into his ear. They hadn't yet recast the Calamitatis charm.

"Harry, there's a step down here," Hermione said. Harry remembered tripping up it on their way in.

"Hey, do you think we can find a place to sit down and eat?" Harry murmured to Hermione. "I'm not sure I can manage all this while walking." He lifted his cone up in the air.

"Oh, right. They do have an outdoor seating area," Hermione said.

"Hey, let's sit down and eat here," Hermione called to the Weasleys who were wandering down the pavement.

She led Harry through a metal gate that clanged to a rickety little chair that wobbled when she put his hand on the back of it. He sat down gingerly as he heard the others filing in and finding chairs around them. He reached out and found the small table between them. It shifted under his hand and he found that there was a pile of papers on it. He touched the paper tentatively and decided it must be a newspaper. It made him think about what Hermione had said about the events in the Chamber of Secrets not appearing in the Daily Prophet yet.

"Hermione, have you been reading the Daily Prophet?" he asked.

"Yes, I've been picking it up when we come into London. You can read it at the Center's library, did you know? I caught up on this week's news when Ginny and I went to the library. They haven't printed anything about what happened at Hogwarts. It's very odd," she said.

Harry ran his fingers over the newsprint while he listened. Reading the paper sounded like drudgery.

"Good idea to sit down, Hermione," Molly approved as she sat down at the neighboring table. "Here are some napkins... Harry, your ice cream is dripping into your lap, dear. Scourgify."

Harry felt a strange, fleeting warmth on his thigh. He reached for a napkin and held it under his dripping cone while he tried to track down the errant rivulets with his tongue.

Ron sat down at the table with them and let out a moan.

"That good, is it?" Harry asked. "What flavor did you get?"

"Blood orange," Ron said. "It's bloody brill... " the rest of the word was lost in his slurping.

"What did you get, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Roasted plum. It's quite good."

"Ew, that sounds horrid, 'Mione," Ron muttered through a mouthful of ice cream.

"Ginny, what did you get?" Harry asked.

There was a squeak and a chair rattled against the pavement and Molly shrieked. Harry felt people brushing by him. He sat still trying to figure out what was going on.

"Did Ginny fall down?" he asked Hermione. "Is she okay?"

"Come on, Ginny," Fred said.

"Here you go," said George.

"Oh, that's a shame!" Molly lamented. "Oh, dear. Let's get you a new one, okay? No, don't cry dear. It happens, Gin. Please don't worry."

"Ginny, I'm sorry. Did I scare you?" Harry asked.