Chapter 155: Guarded

899 52 32
                                    

"Er, thanks," Harry finally managed to respond with a squeak. Visions of Aunt Petunia and Professor McGonagall facing off in the kitchen —wand and frying pan drawn—were circulating through his head.

Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing...

"Are you sure you know what you're getting into?" Harry asked, leaning closer toward the Professor.

"Oh, Harry. Those muggles are no match for me," Professor McGonagall said with a snort.

"Have you ever lived with muggles before?"

"Actually. Yes. My father was a muggle."

"What?!" Harry sat back. "An actual muggle... not a muggleborn?"

"An actual muggle. He was a minister."

"Er. Well. The Dursleys... they're not really representative of most muggles..."

"Harry," she interrupted forcefully. "I am not worried about myself. I am concerned about you. About the conditions you've been forced to endure... "

Professor McGonagall sniffled, sounding as if she was close to tears and Harry had to resist the sudden urge to summon his broom from his staff and fly away. His fingertips tingled with the desire to fetch his broom.

"Er. It's not that bad," Harry tried to assert. "It was actually a bit better since..." he waved a hand toward his eyes.

Professor McGonagall blew her nose forcefully, making Harry jump.

"Well, later we can talk about the particulars. At this moment, I must make sure that there is no way that the blaggard can penetrate the wards. By Circe's girdle, if it isn't one thing, it's another." She stood up and walked away briskly, leaving Harry alone in the dining hall.

He couldn't help but grin to himself. She had just berated him for wandering around the Center without a companion and now she had left him alone. He wasn't about to bring it to her attention.

Nio stirred at his belly button and whispered something unintelligible in Parseltongue. Harry poked at his food a little more, but wasn't able to eat much. He sent his tray back to the kitchen and fished his staff out of his pocket. It felt so good to have it again.

He shook it out and opened the storage compartment, summoning his broom for just a second to make sure it was okay, and then put the muggle cane and his invisibility cloak in the staff.

He made his way out into the corridor, not really sure where he was headed, but when he found himself inhaling the heady aroma of shaved wood and the sulfuric remnants of silver casting, he realized why he was there.

"Figora?" he asked at the entrance.

"Harry! I'm so glad you're okay," the normally gruff voice was transformed by delight as Figora approached him and clasped his elbow in greeting that also served to guide him to a spot at a nearby table where she filled a cup with a fragrant tea that made Harry think of mangos and pushed it against his knuckles. "It sounds like you had a harrowing time in those tunnels. And success as well! What an amazing feat... to find the source of that nulling magic and return it to its proper place... what with bumbling Aurors, murderous villains, and scores of serpents everywhere... Septima filled me in."

"The snakes helped us..." Harry said, feeling defensive as he took a sip of the tea. "Is this a mango tea?"

"Well spotted! Most wixen can't identify the key ingredient over the black tea!"

"Oh, well, Lieutenant James Holman shared a mango with me when we were on the HMS Eden. It was heavenly."

"Oh and I know what you mean about the snakes. Septima! She does have a snake phobia. I think the adventure has given her a new perspective on serpents. You look like you need something? What can I do for you?"

Basilisk EyesWhere stories live. Discover now