Basilisk Eyes

Chapter 130: Mermish

Through all the tumult of the celebration, Harry could feel the ground rumbling as Hagrid lumbered over to them, parting the crowd. Harry held his broom tight in his hand and braced himself suspecting that Hagrid was going to grab him and so wasn't entirely surprised when Hagrid picked him up and tossed him into the air.

"Yeh can still fly a swift as a thestral! I knew it! An' play Quidditch jus' like you always did! A sight better if I do say so! McGonagall was cryin' into her firewhiskey—sayin' that you'd never fly again. But I told her, nothin' gonna keep yeh from playin' Quidditch! I told her!" Hagrid wept.

"Hagrid, it's okay! You can put me down," Harry called from where he dangled in the air, holding his broom up and hoping that he wasn't accidentally whacking Hagrid with it.

"Er, right. There yeh go," Hagrid said, setting him down as gently as he could on the ground—his huge hand settling on Harry's shoulder like a sack of flour.

"An' the rest of you—what a sight! I never thought I'd see a Jiāorén on a broom jus' as regal as an Aethonan. An' look at Godric, here, eh?—'bout as good as Harry on a broom. An' that's sayin' summat. And Petro, too—now blind as well as deaf—but blocking goals like an Erumpent who done caught the scent of his mate. An' I don't know who this little miss is, but she's got a spark, that's fer sure. An' Neville, up on a broom with no broken bones! Folks can say what they like, but yeh otta be able ter play. Charmin' the balls with bells—Crikey! Everyone can hear 'em (unless they can't hear 'em, right Petro?)—it's not givin' yeh an unfair advantage. Shoot! Jus' let you lot play, eh? That's all I am gonna say." The last bit was muffled as Hagrid blew his nose ferociously into his handkerchief.

Harry patted Hagrid on his back—his grin nearly stretching from ear to ear. Harry could hear Neville muttering as he tried to remember signs in his attempt to fill Gemma in and through her, Peter in, on what Hagrid was saying. Ivan was trying to help him—clearly more versed in BSL than Neville.

Godric was speaking to Hagrid in a low voice and it sounded like they were walking away from the group. Harry did catch a piece of what Godric was asking... "What do you mean 'an unfair advantage?' Who has been claiming that making Quidditch accessible..."

"Seriously? How on earth did you manage that?" Tahmina exclaimed. "You're not really blind, are you?"

Mei made a disparaging noise and Harry heard Tony speaking in even tones quietly to them. He thought of the water bracelets on Mei's arms that were perhaps at that moment preventing an outburst of unintended magic.

Harry stilled and turned his face in the direction of Tahmina's voice. He felt some of his elation ebb.

"Tahmina. Seriously. That's not cool," Arig's voice was sharp.

"But Arig... blimey—that was some of the best flying I've seen in a long time and I've been to a lot of tryouts. How can he do that? How does he not crash? How can he catch a snitch that he can't see?"

"I know. I was trying to tell you," Arig said.

"I'm right here!" Harry said as evenly as he could, though he couldn't help but stomp his foot. "If you want, I can show you. And I'll even do it blindfolded."

Harry popped his staff from his broom, summoned his Gryffindor tie out of it,and slipped his glasses into the storage opening. He tied the blindfold over his eyes—a little clumsily as he was still holding the snitch and had his broom in the crook of his elbow— and—feeling a little melodramatic—he hopped on his broom and rose into the air nearly vertically from where he was standing.

It felt good to fly away from the doubt and disbelief. He was feeling rankled by the thought that someone might be petitioning against the residents of the Center... putting up barriers when they had been working so hard to get over the ones that had been thrown in their path already. He gritted his teeth as he rose into the air, the ends of the tie flapping behind him like little banners.