xvii. theo in skis

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chapter seventeen

theo in skis

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Wizards did not frequently use airplanes. In fact, many of them didn't even know that Muggles had them. Ginny, for example, knew of airplanes as a concept but generally thought of them as Orville and Wilbur Wright style wood-and-paper gliders.

Theo was about at that level of understanding so, when we told him we were taking a plane to Zurich, he looked terrified.

"Is it safe?" he asked me later in a whisper, as if not wanting to embarrass himself in front of my parents.

"Oh yeah," I said. "They strap you really tight to the wings and give you a helmet, aviation goggles, and a parachute, just in case. But, don't worry, the parachutes are really easy to use, you just have this ripcord—"

He'd looked horrified for a few seconds before he realized I was messing with him. Then, Theo shoved me hard enough I fell off of the couch. I sat on the ground, laughing.

We left early in the morning a day after Christmas. The sunlight was pale and weak, and my eyes were itchy after having been woken up too early.

When we were nearly at the airport, I saw that Theo was resting his head against the window and staring at the sky, hoping to catch sight of a real commercial airplane. I'd told him that you sat inside and, yes, it really was very safe, but I don't think he had a lot of confidence.

As we passed a 'Welcome to Heathrow' sign, the sound of jet engines roared over our heads and Theo desperately craned his neck to see. I reached over to roll down the window for him, and he stuck his head out in time to see the Boeing 737 flying overhead, coming in for a landing.

"Holy fuck," he said, and then, catching himself, he seemed freaked out. "Merlin! Sorry, Mr. Fossen and Mrs. MacAlpine."

I could see that Mum had her hand clamped over her mouth, trying not to laugh, so Dad looked over his shoulder, amusement on his face.

"It's no problem, Theodore," he said, chuckling slightly.

We parked our car and took a shuttle to the airport. Theo had looked vaguely terrified all morning, but he seemed mostly excited now. Mum had picked out an outfit from the clothes he'd brought that looked acceptably Muggle (black dress trousers, as he didn't own jeans, and a simple grey long-sleeve shirt) but the way he looked around at everything like an over-sugared child may as well have given him away.

After we checked our luggage and got our tickets, we went to get breakfast at a brightly lit, though tired-looking cafe in our terminal.

"So, how do planes work?" Theo asked, enjoying his cheese and ham bagel and taking cautious sips of the latte we ordered for him.

"Magic," I said, cryptically, wiggling my fingers at him as he rolled his eyes.

"It's called lift," said Mum. "Airplanes are designed so air moves faster over the top of the wings than the bottom, which makes the air pressure lower on the top. That difference in pressure creates a force and lifts the plane into the air."

The explanation seemed to make Theo even more nervous. "And, that's safe? And reliable?"

Mum nodded and gave Theo a reassuring smile. "Much safer than driving."

Theo and I were sitting in the row directly behind Mum and Dad. Even though the window seat was my favorite, I let Theo have it because it was his first time flying.

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