A week had passed since that day, but for Victor, it had flown by unnoticed, like one long, meditative moment. All his efforts were focused on bringing his own mind into order. Oh, how difficult it was to get used to this new silence after three years of continuous internal dialogue! It was as if, after an eternal ringing in his ears, a complete, unaccustomed stillness had suddenly descended. At first, it was frightening, causing phantom sensations of Victor Number 2's presence, but then it transformed into a comforting, even reassuring emptiness. He discovered that his consciousness had become astonishingly clear and collected, as if the merger had eliminated all distracting noises and internal conflicts. He no longer heard the familiar retorts, nor felt the duality that had defined him for so many years. It was strangely unfamiliar, yet at the same time, it offered an unprecedented sense of wholeness. However, the habit formed over years of isolation made itself known. Sometimes he caught himself waiting for a familiar barb or witty comment from his inner voice, or he would involuntarily begin to argue with it mentally before realizing that he was now alone. This caused a slight but persistent feeling of melancholy. He missed that perpetually dissatisfied, yet so familiar voice, the caustic remarks that made his life less dull.
To drown out this longing and adapt to his new state, Victor actively explored London. His days were filled with a kaleidoscope of new impressions. He spent hours in majestic museums, where amidst artifacts and paintings, he felt like a part of a larger history. The noisy zoo fascinated him with its exotic animals, and the agility of the acrobats at the circus took his breath away, though internally he ironically compared their tricks to the true magic he now possessed himself. One day he was eager to visit the cinema, but without an adult, he was, of course, not allowed in. However, he wasn't too upset. The films of 1990 seemed ridiculously naive and boring after the 21st-century blockbusters he desperately missed. "The Avengers," "Deadpool," "Avatar"—these names echoed in his memory, reminding him of the vivid special effects and thrilling plots that were so lacking in old British films.
One hot day, when the sun was particularly merciless, he decided to visit the pool. In the morning, anticipating relaxation, he went shopping, bought himself brightly colored swim trunks, a funny panama hat, and stylish sunglasses, and then headed to one of the city's most popular pools. At first, he wanted to show off in his trunks, displaying his toned body, but changed his mind in the changing room. He didn't want to show his scars. In the mirror, they looked the same as always: long, white lines on his arms, chest, back—silent testaments to the cruelty of his adoptive parents. They were old, faded, but still too noticeable. In the end, he changed into shorts and a bright Hawaiian shirt, pulled on his panama hat and glasses, and went to look for a free sun lounger.
It was a weekday, so there weren't too many people, which was good. Spotting a free spot, Victor headed towards it. Nearby, under a large beach umbrella, sat a family: a man, a woman, and a girl. Instead of splashing in the water or sunbathing, the girl was intently reading a large, painfully familiar book. Lowering his glasses and looking closely, Victor felt his heart leap and nearly pound out of his chest. It was Hermione Granger! She was lying on a sun lounger in a one-piece swimsuit and, most surprisingly, reading... a magic textbook. Victor, trying to remain unfazed, approached the empty spot and, smiling politely, asked Hermione's parents:
"Excuse me, could you tell me if this spot is free?"
Mrs. Granger, a smiling woman with kind eyes, immediately replied, "Yes, of course, make yourself comfortable!"
Hermione, hearing an unfamiliar voice, looked up. Her gaze swept over Victor. He was very handsome, despite that silly panama hat that slightly covered his hair. Through his unbuttoned shirt, she noticed his toned body. He wasn't a bulky bodybuilder but looked like a natural athlete—flexible and strong. Mrs. Granger, noticing how her daughter froze, staring at the boy who had begun to lay out his things on the sun lounger next to them, quietly nudged her husband with her elbow and pointed at Hermione, chuckling. Hermione, hearing her mother's laughter, quickly turned her head and, seeing that both her father and mother were looking at her with smiles, immediately blushed deeply, burying her nose in her book.
Victor, completely oblivious to this family drama, was laying out his things, still unable to believe such an incredible encounter. He was literally a meter away from Hermione Granger! His favorite character from "Harry Potter" was sitting right here, reading a magic textbook, and he was nearby! But, deciding that he had come here to swim, not to marvel, he quickly stripped down to his swim trunks and, taking off his glasses, headed to the pool. Hermione, furtively watching him, was surprised by the number of scars visible on his body as he walked to the water.
"Dear, did you see how many scars he has?" Mrs. Granger quietly asked her husband.
Hermione's father, Wendell, nodded. He had also noticed those strange marks. "Looks like he was abused before. Those scars are very old." As a dentist, he was, of course, not a surgeon, but he had enough knowledge of the human body to immediately understand: these scars had healed long ago.
Victor, after swimming a few laps in the cool water and basking in the sun enough, got out of the pool. He dried himself with a fluffy towel, put on his shirt, and, relaxed, stretched out on the sun lounger. Looking at Hermione, who was still reading, he asked, tilting his head slightly:
"Are you just going to read a book? We're at the pool."
But Hermione pretended not to hear and continued to turn pages. Her mother answered for her, chuckling: "Oh, don't mind her, young man. She's just very shy."
Hermione immediately gave her mother a reproachful look: "Mum!" Then she turned her gaze to Victor, her voice full of indignation: "It's none of your business what I do, and it's not polite to meddle in other people's affairs!"
Victor merely shrugged, put on his glasses, and relaxed again. A minute later, he turned his head and, with a slight smile, continued: "No, really, you came to the pool on such a hot day and you're just going to read a book? Don't you want to take a dip?"
Hermione just shot him an angry glance, saying nothing, and pointedly buried herself in her book. Her mother continued to chuckle at her.
Victor, undeterred, decided to try a different approach. "What are you reading that's so interesting?" he asked, reaching for the book. "I also love to read, but I've never seen a cover like that before."
Hermione continued to ignore him, but Victor could already feel her nervousness. He smiled: "Do you know that people don't notice that they constantly see their own nose?"
Hermione ignored him again, but her behavior changed. She could no longer focus on reading because her eyes kept darting to her nose. Her irritation grew with each passing second. Finally, she abruptly closed the book, set it aside, sat up straight on the sun lounger, and angrily looked at Victor: "Why did you say that?!"
Her mother burst into loud, ringing laughter, and her father merely smiled contentedly. Victor shrugged, spreading his hands innocently: "I just decided to share an interesting fact. It's true, we don't notice it, even though it's always in front of our eyes." Then he began to hum a cheerful tune softly to himself.
Hermione's mother, after she finished laughing, asked: "Young man, may I know your name?"
Victor took off his glasses, his smile widening. "Oh, forgive my rudeness, I'm Victor Moss. And you?"
And then Hermione's mother, Jane, introduced everyone with a warm smile: "I'm Jane Granger, and this is my husband, Wendell Granger, and, of course, our daughter, Hermione."
Victor smiled sincerely. "It's a great pleasure to meet you, Jane, Wendell, and Hermione."
At that moment, a waitress approached them: "Excuse me, do you need a menu? Will you be ordering anything?"
Victor took the menu, quickly flipped through it, and, without much thought, ordered a large orange juice with ice and four huge glasses of ice cream. Taking out his wallet, he paid on the spot. Then he easily transitioned into conversation with Jane and Wendell, discussing a wide range of topics—from the weather to the news, while Hermione seemed to have fallen asleep again, pretending to completely ignore what was happening. When the waitress brought the ice cream, Victor smiled broadly and said, "Please, help yourselves!" Soon, a tray with three glasses of ice cream was on the Grangers' table.
Jane shyly objected: "Oh, Victor, you shouldn't have, that must be very expensive." But Victor merely waved her off: "Not at all, not at all, I've already bought it, and I can't eat it all myself." And the Granger family, gratefully, took a large cup of ice cream each, sincerely thanking him. They continued to chat until evening, enjoying the pleasant company. Victor swam several more times during this period, sometimes even with Jane and Wendell, while Hermione, stubbornly glued to her book, continued to read. As the sun began to set, Victor started to get ready to go home.
The sun slowly dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in incredible shades of orange, pink, and purple. Victor gathered his belongings, feeling a pleasant weariness from a day filled with unaccustomed lightness and warmth. The conversation with the Grangers, their friendliness and surprising simplicity, felt like a breath of fresh air after long years of loneliness and hospital walls.
"Goodbye, Victor! It was very nice to meet you, I hope we'll see each other again!" Jane said with a sincere smile.
"Yes, Victor, do drop by sometime if you're in our neck of the woods," Wendell added, nodding amiably.
Hermione, who had remained enigmatic and silent until this moment, finally looked up from her book. "Goodbye," she mumbled, barely audible, but Victor still caught it.
Victor smiled back. "Absolutely! All the best to you too." He pulled on his panama hat, picked up his things, and was about to head for the exit when Wendell called out to him:
"Victor, wait! It's getting late, and you probably have a long walk. We're just about to head home, we can give you a lift if it's on your way?"
Victor hesitated for a moment. On one hand, he didn't want to be a bother; on the other, the offer seemed so sincere. And besides, it was another chance to prolong his interaction with this amazing family.
"Oh, that would be wonderful, thank you!" Victor replied. "I live on Oldborough Road, twenty-seven."
The smile faded from Wendell's face when he heard the address. Jane's eyebrows rose in surprise. Hermione, who had tried to appear uninterested until now, was looking at Victor with genuine astonishment.
"Oldborough Road, twenty-seven?" Wendell slowly repeated, his eyes widening. "But... that's the house next to ours! We live at twenty-five."
There was an awkward pause, and then Jane gasped. "You're our new neighbor?! We heard the house was bought recently, but we never could have imagined!" Her face lit up with a wide smile. "Well, I'll be! What a pleasant surprise!"
Victor was initially flustered, then a smile appeared on his face too. He knew, of course, that the Grangers lived in an ordinary, Muggle neighborhood, but he had never thought about the specific address. What an incredible coincidence!
"It seems so, yes, I'm your new neighbor," Victor laughed. "It's a small world, isn't it?"
Hermione's parents laughed. "Well, then, let's go, neighbor!" Wendell said, clapping Victor on the shoulder.
They left the pool and headed to Wendell's car. The drive took only a few minutes. Victor sat in the back seat next to Hermione. The car had a pleasant, light atmosphere, filled with Jane and Wendell's quiet laughter. Although Hermione continued to pretend to be engrossed in the scenery outside the window, Victor felt her secretly glancing at him. He, in turn, admired her profile, noting how small she still was, but already so intelligent and determined.
The car stopped at the familiar two-story house. On the other side of the street stood another, very similar house—the Grangers'—with a neat front garden and a bright red front door.
"Well, here we are home!" Jane exclaimed.
"Thank you so much for the ride!" Victor said sincerely.
"Oh, come on, neighbor!" Wendell laughed. "Come over for tea sometime when you're free!"
"Absolutely!" Victor replied. He said goodbye to everyone and got out of the car. Hermione, to his surprise, waved goodbye to him, something she clearly hadn't expected from herself. Victor waved back, smiling widely.
Finally, home, Victor went into the bedroom. The room was dark, but he didn't need a light. His vision, sharpened and accustomed to the dimness of hospital rooms, was as keen as a predator's. Leaving his backpack by the door, he headed to the bookshelf, as if drawn by an invisible force. His fingers slid across the spines, stopping on the very Transfiguration textbook Hermione had been reading at the pool. He felt a slight tingling sensation as he ran his palm over the old, worn cover. It seemed even the paper was imbued with magic.
He sat on the windowsill, looking out at the dark garden, and began to read the book.