Basilisk Eyes

Chapter 93: Tangere

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.