Basilisk Eyes

Chapter 118: Amends

Hermione, Neville, and Harry stood in stunned silence for a bit on the shore after Tony stormed off. Harry was shaking—he wasn't sure if it was from the damp and chill air or from the anger and fear that had bubbled up inside him when Tony had used that word. He couldn't believe that he had pounded on Tony's chest with his finger—Tony who is a good head and shoulders taller than him and twice as wide.

But all he could hear in his head was Malfoy hurling the word at Hermione like a dagger and Riddle's sick voice taunting him as he and Ginny were dying in the Chamber of Secrets... near the body of the serpent who had been ordered to rid the school of the likes of Hermione and his mum. People who used that word wanted to cast out and kill wixen who happened to be born to muggles... it was really hard for him to wrap his head around it.

How could the wixen world tolerate it? Why wasn't someone doing something?

Harry heard footsteps squelching through the mud on the shore and then Hermione was hugging him again. She was also trembling. She lifted her hand from his shoulder and then Neville put his arms around the two of them. Hermione had beckoned Neville.

"You really stood up to him," Neville said, stepping back.

"Yeah—I'm just sick of it," Harry sighed.

"Come on, we've got to get dry or we're all going to catch our death," Hermione said, starting to walk toward the Egress, her broom dragging behind her, the bell's tinkling lightly.

"Here, let me put the brooms away," Harry said, holding out his hand. Neville pressed the broom handle into Harry's palm, the cowbell ringing once, and Harry ended the bell charm. He did the same with Hermione's and his broom, then shook out his staff and followed the sound of Hermione's steps as she walked toward the Egress.

Harry taught Hermione and Neville the drying charm he'd learned. Harry loved the way it heated up his clothes—it was way better than putting on warm clothes fresh out of the dryer on a cold day.

They were quiet as they walked through the corridor, back to the reception area. Harry half expected Tony to accost them and kept casting the revealing charm nonverbally, but it was really only the three of them roaming the halls that evening.

In the reception area, after letting Healer Huw know that Hermione and Neville were returning home, Hermione turned to Harry.

"I do want to research in the library... but my dad's going to be here soon. Do you think I could spend the day here tomorrow? My parents are going to be in London running errands for the trip and I'll just be in their way... I could use the library while you're in lessons, but we could still eat lunch together or something..."

"That would be good. Today didn't go the way I thought it would," Harry said, both happy that Hermione would be around and relieved that he didn't have to be in the library the whole time.

"The flying was brilliant, Harry... You really are a good teacher. I've never felt comfortable on a broom before today. You made it seem easy. I can actually fly now! Won't Ron be surprised? You can't tell him, though!" Hermione laughed.

Harry thought it was odd that Neville didn't chime in—yesterday he'd been so thrilled about flying. Harry kept cocking his head, listening for cues for why Neville was being so quiet. He thought that Neville would head back to St. Mungo's as soon as they reached the reception area, but he just stood there, shuffling his feet.

The way Hermione would pause in the middle of saying things made him wonder if she had also noticed that something was up with Neville.

Charing Cross Road noises burst into the room, though, and Hermione and her dad were gone with the promise to return the next morning—the sounds and smells cut off by the closing Egress just as quickly as they had invaded the quiet moments before.