“Where in the world are we going, Blaise?” Harry asked irritably. “Is there a reason you’re dragging us into Muggle London right now? We just barely got out of Gringott’s.”
Blaise flashed a grin over his shoulder as he hurried through the crowds. “Just hurry up or we’ll be late,” he called.
“Late for what?” Harry hollered, but didn’t get an answer.
Harry looked to Snape for an answer, but Snape just sneered at him and Harry didn’t bother even asking. So, Harry looked down at Draco, who was doing his best to keep up. Harry swung him up into his arms, sitting Draco on his hip.
“Do you know where we’re going, angel?” Harry whinged, not really expecting an answer from him either. Draco giggled, though, even as he shook his head, making it worth asking the question.
Harry resigned himself to following blindly and began pointing things out to Draco as they hurried through Diagon Alley, into the Leaky Cauldron and out the other side into Muggle London.
Harry didn’t know where Blaise was rushing them, but he was enjoying Draco’s reactions to everything.
“Wow!” Draco breathed. “What are those things?” he asked. “I bet they could go as fast as brooms.”
Harry grinned. “They’re called cars, Draco. It’s how Muggles tend to get around faster. And you’re right, they can go even faster than brooms sometimes,” he whispered conspiratorially.
He got the reaction he wanted when Draco’s eyes grew even rounder, watching in fascination the cars travelling the streets.
“We’re here!” Blaise exclaimed triumphantly several blocks later.
Harry looked up at the sign, before staring at Blaise incredulously. “You hurried us along to go to an optometrist’s office?”
“Yep,” Blaise said in satisfaction. “You are going to finally get rid of those glasses and get those context thingies.”
“Contacts,” Harry corrected automatically. “But I don’t have an appointment,” he said, bewildered by this turn of events. “And I’m supposed to be taking Draco shopping, not doing something for myself.”
“You do have an appointment in about . . . two minutes from now,” Blaise said smugly.
“How? How did you know where to go or that I’d need an appointment?” Harry asked, brow furrowed.
“Granger,” Blaise admitted with a sheepish grin. “She seemed to know what to do and got the appointment set up for you.”
Harry had been staring at him in amazement until now, and suddenly he burst out laughing. “You’re just too much, Blaise!”
“This is long overdue,” he declared haughtily, until he grinned, spoiling the false attitude. “Now come on!” he exclaimed, dragging Harry into the building.
It was an interesting couple of hours and Harry knew very well that the optometrist and his fellow workers thought they were an extremely strange group.
Harry soon found out at least partly why Snape hadn’t argued with this appointment, even though it was for Harry. Harry was positive his eye exam took twice as long as it normally did with all the questions Snape posed the man. If he wasn’t questioning the man’s skills, knowledge, or equipment, then he was watching each step of the exam with an eagle eye.
Harry thought it was mostly curiosity on Snape’s part regarding the Muggle technology, but there were a few questions that caused Harry to wonder if Snape was actually concerned about him.
Blaise and Draco had also gone into the exam room with Harry because, of course, Snape wasn’t going to let them stay out in the waiting room by themselves, and Draco wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of letting Harry out of his sight anyway. So, both boys sat off to the side watching the proceedings with fascination.
“Merlin, Harry! How could you see anything before?” Blaise exclaimed when the optometrist demonstrated what Harry’s vision was really like.
“I’m just used to compensating for it, I guess,” Harry said defensively.
“He really should have been in here for an exam many years ago,” the optometrist patiently explained. The man had been frustrated with the group at first, but had soon resigned himself and, if truth had been known, had actually become quite fond of the odd group that had invaded his office.
He went on to explain further. “The eyes can be quite tricky and oftentimes vision changes as a child grows. In Harry’s case here, his vision has deteriorated some since these glasses were made for him and his prescription has changed quite a bit.”
“Prescription?” Snape asked, arms crossed imposingly.
“Yes, prescription,” the optometrist explained, not intimidated by Snape, considering the man’s obvious concern for the three boys in his care. He went on to explain what he meant by prescription, putting it in plain words for them all to understand. He demonstrated by adjusting his equipment and actually showing them what Harry’s vision was like with his old glasses, then adjusting again to show what it would be like with his new prescription.
Blaise snorted. “I told you this was long overdue.”
“Yeah, and you knew why I never got here before,” Harry snapped in irritation, more upset with the Dursleys than Blaise. “Besides, it’s not like it was that bad. It’s not like I couldn’t see anything.”
Blaise looked at him sadly and the optometrist looked at them both curiously before responding. “Your vision with the old glasses was not outrageously bad, but you will find that things will be much sharper and more in focus than they were before.”
They finally moved on and Snape stood back, observing impassively as Blaise and Draco had a blast helping Harry select some new frames for a backup pair of glasses and giving Harry a hard time as he learned to put his new contacts in and take them out.
After demonstrating, the assistant had left Harry to practice and once Harry got it, he looked in the mirror before grinning at the others proudly. “So, how do I look?”
“I think you look fabulous without those old glasses,” Blaise declared with a winning smile.
“Me, too,” Draco piped up, grinning widely.
They were in a quiet room by themselves while Harry was learning to deal with his contacts and Snape sneered at them. “More importantly, I think these contacts will be better in a battle situation.”
Harry’s face fell in resigned acceptance that Snape was right. He quietly turned back and began packing everything up. No wonder Snape had allowed this visit today.
“Sev’rus, why’d you have to say that?” Draco’s little voice demanded. “He was happy and you just made him sad again.”
Harry answered before Snape could respond. “No, Draco,” Harry said quietly. “Your godfather is right. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He didn’t notice the glares that both Draco and Blaise were shooting at Snape for bringing Harry down again. Even if he’d noticed, Harry wouldn’t have been sure what to make of Snape’s expression.
As Harry paid his bill, he had the receptionist call a taxi for them and not long after, they were at the clothing store that Blaise said Draco had frequented in Muggle London.
Harry understood better when Blaise finally let on that a couple of witches ran the Muggle establishment. Harry stood back, waiting with Draco while Blaise went to talk to them.
Soon enough, Harry and Draco both found themselves in a back room being measured and trying on tons of clothes.
Harry was quickly overwhelmed and his wide eyes showed it. It didn’t take him long to give up on any ideas of embarrassment, though, and just let it all happen—because it was happening whether he said anything or not. Blaise bustled about as much as the two assistants that had been assigned to help them, ordering Harry to try this or try on that, but not those two together and so on and so on.
Draco, on the other hand, was going through the same thing, but he seemed entirely in his element—no big surprise there. Harry managed to get through to the assistants that he wanted Draco to have some actual little boy play clothes. Blaise didn’t look like he quite understood, but the ladies did, and they went bustling back out to gather more clothing.
“What do you mean, ‘play clothes’?” Blaise asked in puzzlement. “He can play in these clothes,” he said, pointing to the pile of what Harry considered to be almost formal wear.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Draco needs some jeans and rough n’ tumble clothes,” he tried to explain. “Clothes that it’s not going to matter what the hell happens to them. Creased trousers and silk shirts are not what I consider to be play clothes. Comfortable overalls and non-wrinklable shirts would be play clothes.”
“Non-wrinklable?” Blaise asked, eyebrows raised. “That’s not even a word, let alone a type of clothing, Harry.” However, he was grinning at Harry, obviously understanding now.
“Well, it’s a word in my vocabulary, even it it’s not in Draco’s realm,” Harry retorted, grinning back at Blaise.
Harry and Draco ended up with some dressy wear like creased trousers and silk shirts, but they also ended up with plenty of jeans, a variety of colorful t-shirts and jumpers and hooded sweatshirts.
