Basilisk Eyes

Chapter 87: Bacio

"Harry, can I ask you something? Um, how do you get dressed? Does someone come and help you in the morning?" Ron asked.

"What? No, that would be awful! I just get dressed. I don't know. It's not that hard," Harry snorted. "Just one leg at a time, you know. I mean, I guess I feel for tags and seams to make sure I'm not putting something on inside out or backward. Seriously, Ron, you've gotten dressed in the dark before, haven't you?"

"Uh, I guess so. I hadn't really thought about it," Ron said.

"Yeah, well. You don't really think about it until you have to, I guess," Harry said.

"Yeah, I guess. But how do you tell what color shirt you're putting on?" Ron asked.

"I never really thought about what colors my shirts were, did I? I mean they are all grungy worn out things from Dudley. It doesn't really matter what they look like. And I guess I know what color they are by the feel of them," Harry said.

"You can tell color by the way things feel?" Ron said, mystified.

"No, I mean I remember my shirts and trousers from before when I could see and I can tell them apart by the way they feel. Like my grey trousers feel different from my tan ones," Harry said, running his fingers over the fabric on his knee. "And my staff will tell me what color things are if I cast the Indica color charm."

Harry took his collapsed staff out of his pocket and reached out for Ron, guessing where his shoulder was. He found his sleeve and touched the staff to the fabric and said, "Indica color."

The aftí in his ear said, "cornflower blue."

"See, your shirt is cornflower blue," Harry said.

"It is not!" Ron said indignantly. "It's just a light blue. Matches my eyes, doesn't it."

"Hey, I'll be able to use my staff to tell what color my potions are! I didn't think about that!" Harry said.

"Yeah, like Snape's going to let you do that," Ron muttered.

"Right... 'What do you think you're doing, Potter? You and your inflated ego! Always looking for a way to stand out! Using your staff to determine potion colors gives you an unfair advantage! You think that this nonsense of being blind means you deserve special accommodations! Insufferable attention-seeking boy! You're just like your father!" Harry mimicked Snape's distaining sneer and put his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. "Potions is going to be a nightmare."

"Yeah, but at least you won't have to look at the git's greasy hair anymore," Ron said.

"True," Harry said, "... but I bet I'll be able to smell it."

"Ew!" said Ron and they dissolved into laughter.

"There you two are! Everyone's looking for you," Hermione burst into the courtyard from the library entrance.

"Hey, Mione!" Ron gasped, his laughter making him fall against Harry.

"Your dad was wondering if you wanted to go out to Charing Cross Road and get a muggle ice cream cone. Apparently, he's always wanted to try one." Hermione's smile was evident in her voice. "He said that Healer Jordan said it was okay for you to go, Harry but that we need to remember to finite the Scribunt loqui charms before we're around muggles."

"What makes muggle ice cream different than wixen ice cream?" Harry asked.

"Um, nothing. I think Mr. Weasley just wants to mingle with the muggles," Hermione said.

"That's my dad!" Ron groaned. "He's got a bit of a thing for muggles."

"Aren't we going to stand out?" Harry asked, wondering what the Weasleys were wearing.