Basilisk Eyes

Chapter 43: Mont Blanc

As Harry and Gemma were walking through the dining hall and then down the corridor toward the owlery, Harry was thinking about how dramatically things had changed for him in a month. He could have never anticipated being where he was now. Ever. He was thinking about Mei, her anger and how she had been hurting herself. He understood it in a way he couldn't have understood it before.

They were at the door of the owlery—the odor bowled him over as they pushed open the door and crossed the threshold. Gemma stood still for a moment when they first walked in and he heard her take a sharp intake of breath.

"What is it?" he asked.

She took his hand and wrote on his palm, "V-I-E-W" space "B-R-E-A-T-H-T-A-K-I-N-G-!"

She walked over to a window. He followed her arm down to the windowsill she was leaning against, feeling the peeling paint under his fingertips. The warm summer air blowing in through the window lifted London's unique aroma up—a mixture of petrol, bakeries, rubbish, and curry. Down below, horns honked, trains rattled, voices rose and fell. The afternoon sun felt good on his face and took in deep breaths and loosed some tension from his shoulders.

"Yeah, it is pretty spectacular, isn't it," he agreed.

She took up his palm and wrote, "S-U-N" space "G-L-I-M-M-E-R-S" space "O-F-F" space "B-U-I-L-D-I-N-G-S" space "D-A-Z-Z-L-I-N-G".

"I can hear the cars honking their horns, the rattling of the train as it moves on the tracks, people's voices, and some buskers' songs along with the owls hooting and grumbling behind us," he told her, the paper rattling next to his lips as he spoke. He heard her grabbing the paper and then stuff it into her pocket.

"Doesn't the paper disappear?" he asked.

"C-A-T-C-H" space "I-T" space "S-T-A-Y" she explained.

"Nice."

She went on to write, "I" space"F-E-E-L" space "P-U-L-S-I-N-G" space "C-I-T-Y" space "T-H-R-O-U-G-H" space "S-I-L-L."

"I can feel it, too."

"W-H-Y" space "Y-O-U" space "C-L-O-S-E" space "E-Y-E-S?"

"The sun is too bright. It hurts my eyes."

She shook his hand gently, as if she were excited, "Y-O-U" space "S-E-E?"

"Just bright light, nothing else."

Her hand stroked the back of his as if she were petting a cat, soothingly.

He shrugged. He realized he was getting used to not seeing.

"Can you hear anything?" He felt it was fair to ask.

She tapped his palm once and then again, twice. He pointed his nose at her and pulled his eyebrows together.

She took his palm and wrote, "V-E-R-Y" space "L-O-U-D," and then slammed her hand on the sill, making Harry jump at the sudden sound.

She tapped once, "No," and he understood that she couldn't hear even that loud noise. He nodded in understanding.

Harry heard the flutter of wings behind him and claws scratching on a wood post and Hedwig's cooing call behind him. He was amazed that he could pick out her voice from all the other owls. He turned, wanting to walk over to her, but not sure what was between them in the room. They had walked straight to the window from the doorway without going around anything, but Hedwig was in an area of the room he hadn't been in before.