Basilisk Eyes

Chapter 82: Ringing Hermione

Harry felt raw when he left Besel's office. It was as if he had been cracked open and his innards poked with a sharp stick. It was really hard work and all he was doing was sitting around and talking about his feelings.

I'm knackered!

They did work in an herb garden for a bit and he really enjoyed the fragrant little plants and sinking his hands into the dirt. It made him wistful for Little Friend, though. He told Besel more about the little snake. He asked if they could do more of that next time and Besel seemed glad that he requested it.

As he was leaving Besel's office, he remembered that he was supposed to meet with Professor McGonagall and Healer Jordan. He was really tempted to slip on his invisibility cloak and just walk away. Really tempted.

"Harry, how are you?" Healer Jordan greeted him. "Professor McGonagall is here. Do you feel up to talking with us for a little bit?"

"Er, sure," Harry said reluctantly. He walked over to Healer Jordan, his silver tip tinged on a chair leg as he walked by.

"Hello, Harry," Professor McGonagall said.

"Hello, Professor," Harry said.

"Harry, there's a chair on your right about two feet," Healer Jordan told him. He found it and sat down and collapsed his staff.

"Would you like some tea and biscuits?" Healer Jordan asked.

"Yes, please," he said as his stomach rumbled.

There was a bit of awkward silence as his tea and biscuits were sorted out. He nibbled on a chocolate digestive and waited. He could feel a strange tension in the air and he was straining to figure it out.

"So, Harry," Professor McGonagall began. "I've been looking into the matter of your... the Dursleys. It seems we were greatly misled in terms of their ability to care for you... as you should have been cared for. And I... I'm very sorry for my part in all of this."

Harry sat still, his hand holding the teacup began to tremble a bit, rattling the china. It didn't seem like Professor McGonagall was done yet.

"I want you to know that we're working on a solution," she finished. Harry felt like there was a lot she wasn't telling him.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "What kind of solution?"

"Well, we don't know yet. It is more complicated than simply removing you from their care," she said.

"What? Do you mean I might not... " He was afraid to say; afraid to jinx it.

"What would help us, Harry," Healer Jordan stepped into the conversation, "would be if you could share some memories with us about your time with the Dursleys."

"Like tell you about them?" Harry asked, confused.

"No, it is a process that allows others to experience your memories as if they were there. Remember, we were talking about this as part of your Mind Healing experience?" she explained.

"Oh, yeah," Harry said. "What memories do you want?"

"We'd want several memories to give us an idea of what it was like for you to live with them—your worst and best and examples of a typical day," Healer Jordan said.

"I dunno," Harry grumbled. "There's not much to share, is there? It's just the Dursleys... sitting in my cupboard, doing chores, getting in trouble, right?"

"What do you mean 'sitting in your cupboard?" Professor McGonagall said sharply.

"You know, where my Hogwarts letter was addressed to... Mr. H. Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs," he quoted.