In some ways Harry was grateful that they fell into a peaceful silence, but in others he was disappointed that he was not getting to hear more about the pretty cab driver.
He kept a running list of every new thing about her: she's a cab driver (duh), she must be either the nicest person in the world or desperate for money if she accepted this trip, she's incredibly patient but also knowledgeable, and finally that her dad died and mum left.
Harry was finding himself to be desperate to learn more, racking his brain for any conversation starters that wouldn't be too awkward breaks of the silence.
"Hermione I feel really sick." Ron whispered in the back.
"Like throw up sick?" Hermione asked concerned.
"Yes." Ron nodded.
Isabel pointed at the glove compartment and asked Harry forcefully, "Can you get a bag out?"
"Yeah sure." Harry said pulling one out and reaching back to hand it to Ron.
"Ron if you're going to throw up, tell me to pull over and try to throw up outside, but if not puke in the bag." Every word was urgent and demanding, she turned back to Harry and spoke in the same stressed way, "There's also some dramamine in the glove compartment but it doesn't always work after you're already sick. You also might have to switch seats with Ron, sometimes being in the front seat helps."
No. Harry through to himself. I will not move to the back. I won't have Ron's pureblood wizard antics scare you off.
Harry grabbed the dramamine and handed it back to Hermione, before handing it to her he mouthed, "Pepperup?"
Hermione nodded and reached into her purse to look. She finally pulled it out when Ron gagged once.
Isabel immediately pulled over and Ron opened the door just time to throw up outside.
Harry looked over at Isabel to see her put the car in park and place with her head in her knees and her hands over her ears.
While terrified to cross the invisible wall between them, Harry reached out and placed his hand reassuringly on her shoulder. "You okay?"
"I have emetophobia." Isabel mumbled not looking up.
"What's emetophobia?" Harry asked confused.
"An extreme fear of throwing up." Hermione answered while rubbing Ron's back and trying to hand him the potion. Eventually Ron took it and immediately his health improved.
"I'm feeling much better!" Ron said cheerfully.
"Sometimes vomiting does that. If you don't move up front, at least move to the middle seat. Looking out the side windows is often what makes people sick." Isabel reached into her side door, "Here's a pack of Pringles, empty stomach is also a reason for carsickness. And finally" Isabel handed Ron the Pringles, mouthwash, and perfume without turning around and looking at him. "Close the door, spit this out the window and then spray this perfume throughout the back seat. I cannot take the smell."
"How do you know all this stuff?" Harry asked as Ron began obeyed every one of her commands.
Isabel merged back onto the road before answering, "I drive around a lot of people. A third of them get carsick, I needed to be as prepared as possible because I hate people getting sick. Usually the adults are fine, it's the kids I have to worry about."
"And we've established Ron is like a kid." Harry said recalling their previous conversation.
"Yes we have." Isabel looked over at him with a smile, "It's just that kids don't always know that they do get carsick or know how to prevent it. Adults figure it out after awhile."
"You'll see when we get to our destination that Ron doesn't live in a city, he's not in a car very often." Harry quickly stretched the truth. He could hardly say that the only car Ron has been in was a flying car.
"I couldn't stand not having a car." Isabel said softly, "I love driving."
"I miss it sometimes when I'm staying with Ron. But there are better things than just driving."
"Like what?" Isabel asked curiously.
Fuck. I can't really say flying on a magic broom now can I? "Running." Harry answered confused by his own response.
Isabel laughed, and Harry felt so accomplished that he was able to do that. He could make her laugh.
"I suppose running would be better for you. But in my neighborhood, if you start running, everyone else will start running with you."
"Strong community?" Harry asked confused.
"Strong crime presence." Isabel explained awkwardly. "Speaking of which, do you all mind if I make a quick phone call. I should tell my Tía that I'll be home late."
"Yeah no problem." Harry nodded, but internally he was very concerned. She already lived in a bad neighborhood, but she'd also be getting home extra late with 4,500 pounds in her pocket.
Isabel pulled out her phone and typed in the number, "Hola Tía, I'm going to be late- no no no- no en español. Tía I don't want- hace que los pasajeros se sientan incómodos. English. Please. I am going to be home late. Don't stay up..... I'm taking a group out of town.... No they are not going to murder me.... Sí ellos son blancos, eso no debería calmar tus nervios.... I'm done with this conversation, Deja de odiar el tuyo. I love you..."
Isabel put her phone away and glanced at Harry, "Sorry about that."
"No no, you're fine. Don't get along with your aunt then?"
"Not particularly," Isabel sighed, "Her views on a lot of things are very... outdated."
"How so?" Harry asked curiously, still wanting to know every detail. And also having experienced his own mental aunt.
"Just things like the fact that knowing there was a white passenger reassured her." Isabel's eyes flicked to the back and saw Hermione and Ron asleep, "Sorry for that one Hermione."
"I was raised by my aunt and uncle and they were also quite," Harry debated the words that weren't 'terrified of magic,' "Stuck up in a sense. They cared about status and your blood. Not necessarily race, but kind of race."
Isabel laughed once more as he stumbled through his explanation, "It's hard to bad mouth family, isn't it? As terrible as they are you still love them at the end of the day."
"Yeah, I mean, they're one of the only connections I have to my mum. However, they also made me sleep in a broom closet for eleven years so-,"
"You slept in a broom closet?" Isabel turn to look him in the eyes, hers all filled with worry and concern.
"Yeah but then I got sent to boarding school so I got to be away from them for a while. Only had to deal with them during summers. At boarding school I met Ron and Hermione and Ron's family practically took me in until my godparents got out of jail."
"Why were your godparents in jail if you don't mind me asking?"
Shit what is the best way to say this, "They were wrongfully accused of murdering my parents and twelve other mug-bystanders." NOT THE BEST WAY NOT THE BEST WAY.
Isabel's eyes went wide as she looked back to the road, "That's.... that ya know.... it happens sometimes."
This time it was Harry's turn to laugh at her awkwardness, "Yeah super casual. All my friends had it happen."
"Did they catch, like, who actually killed them?"
"Yeah, it was one of my parent's other best friend. He faked his own death. However they both got out before anyone caught him. My godfather escaped and my godmother got out via a mistrial claim."
"Shit. That is... a lot."
"Yeah, but we look back on it and laugh. Addy, my godmother, loves to bring up her time spent in jail during arguments with her husband- he was also friends with my parents and believed she was guilty."
"Oh?" Isabel said and Harry felt his heart drop. It felt like every girl in the Wizarding World wanted him for all the greatness he accomplished, but now here he is scaring away a muggle girl with all the baggage he comes with. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of that. It sounds really really really really really shitty."
"Yeah... I don't exactly have the best luck in the world."
"I half feel like you're lying about everything just for a bit of fun." Isabel teased him then looked up at his scar, out of pure habit Harry covered it with his hair, "You don't have to hide it. It's just a scar."
But everyone sees the scar and starts trying to treat me like royalty and I hate it... but I guess a muggle isn't going to do that, "Force of habit I suppose."
"How'd you get it? It's really cool."
"It's cool?" Harry asked confused.
"You know what I mean." Isabel said as her ears turned slightly pink.
"I assure you I do not."
"You know it's badass. Looks like a goddamn lighting. You probably got it from falling off the playground or some shit, but it's still cool looking."
"Would you believe it if I told you someone tried to kill me when I was one years old?" Harry asked.
"I absolutely would not. There's no way you could've had that bad of luck."
"My parents murderer was only an accomplice. The real guy tried to kill me."
"Okay you're definitely pulling my leg now. Are you one of those pathological liars?"
"Nope. Just had a messed up childhood. I'm doing good now though."
"Are you?" Isabel asked with a small laugh, "Because you were desperately looking for a cabbie in a random gas station."
"That's because Ron's mum left us on accident. Well maybe on purpose. We were at his brother's wedding and things just got... overwhelming." Actually the paparazzi for Witch Weekly just got inside the venue and caused us all to run away and we don't have our apparation licenses.
"It was his own brother's wedding and he was forgotten. That's cold."
"He's one of seven. But he had us at the very least."
"The only child in me can't fathom six siblings, but I have a lot of cousins I suppose."
"I have one cousin. He sucks nearly as bad as my aunt and uncle. But Addy has been trying to get me to be nicer to him so I guess I take that back."
"Yeah, I mean, family is important. At least that's how I was raised."
"I was not raised that way." Harry said with a wry laugh, "My aunt and uncle hated my parents, only took me in because they were legally required."
"They aren't legally required to take you in." Isabel said shaking her head.
"Well they were influenced a bit too. But they only ever talked bad about my parents. Called my dad an unemployed deadbeat. Didn't even let me know that he was actually rich and I had a huge vault waiting for me."
"A vault?" Isabel asked amused.
"Trust fund." Harry corrected.
"So that's how you got all that money to pay for a three hour cabbie fair. And here I was thinking you were a drug dealer."
"I mean I could be both." Harry joked in response.
"I'm still not convinced you aren't in a gang."
Shit that would've been such a better lie, "In a way I guess I am."
"That sounds like a fucking inspirational speech. Like 'In a way we are all in a gang- the gang of life'."
"I hated that." Harry said shaking his head and laughing.
"You're the one who started it with your weird ass wording."
"Well pardon me for being introspective."
"Tell that to your therapist."
"Jokes on you I don't have one."
Isabel looked at him in shock and worry, "You don't have a therapist?"
"No." Harry suddenly felt like he was under a microscope.
"You really should get one with your fucked up childhood. There's a lot there that needs unpacking."
"Nahhhh." Harry said casually.
"Yes." Isabel said forcefully, "Unless of course I was right and you're just a pathological liar."
"I wish I could say I made up all that shit. I'll bring you the obituaries next time I see you to prove it."
"You're planning on seeing me again?" Isabel asked with one of her eyebrows raised.
Harry's face went red as he turned and looked out the window, "Nah you know what I meant."
"I assure you I do not." Isabel said using his own words against him.
"I'm sure I'll need a cabbie again sometime."
"What am I? Your chauffeur?"
"I mean, I could afford one." Harry said a bit cocky.
Isabel laughed at his arrogance, knowing that it didn't fit him, "Right. Just add me to your payroll."
"Oh I will." Harry said with a small laugh, "But I mean. It would be nice to see you again."
"Mhm." Harry watched her fight a smile from appearing on her face, "You know it's dangerous to give out my information to customers."
"And why is that?"
"I'm a young, pretty girl. Stalkers man. And I'm still not convinced you aren't a liar."
"What can I do to prove your doubts wrong?" Harry asked surprised at his own boldness.
"Well for starters I don't know your last name."
"Potter." He answered immediately.
"Next I think I will have to see my newspaper evidence because of all those things seem like they'd be in the papers."
"My godfather was Sirius Black- I'm sure you've heard the name."
Isabel looked at him in shock once more, "I'm familiar yes. My Tío used to tell me that if I misbehaved that he'd come and attack me while I was sleeping."
"Shit that's intense." Harry said, "But there's proof right there. He was accused of killing his two best friends, James and Lily Potter."
"Yes and I do recall there being an article about his innocence. Your lies are working so far."
"And you are more than able to meet my godmother, but that might be more of a third date kind of thing."
"Third date?" Isabel questioned, "You've yet to ask me on one."
"All in due time. I have to win you over before I can make those kinds of moves." Harry said with a wink- once again shocking himself.
Isabel's face went red once more as she continued driving, "I don't give out my information to passengers, but I will give out my work phone. I have business cards in the glove compartment."
"So next time I want to see you I have to make up someplace to go? And subsequently pay you?"
"You can afford it can't you." Isabel said with a wink of her own.
"Okay," Harry nodded then spotted a notebook in the open glove compartment, he grabbed it.
"Don't look through that." Isabel demanded worried.
"I won't, don't worry, I wasn't planning to." Harry said opening the last page. He quickly scribbled down an address, "If you ever decide to want to contact me, send me a letter to that address."
Harry closed the notebook and put it back in the glove compartment, fighting his curiosity that wanted to look through it.
"A letter? A bit outdated isn't it?"
"I can't save a text message in a drawer not can I?"
"You plan on saving my letters?"
"You plan on sending letters for me to save?" Harry countered with a smirk.
Isabel have a small laugh while blushing, "Put on some music. We need to let those two sleep."
"Alright." Harry said still smiling and pulling out an old Queen CD.
//an
~reminder that this is technically a sequel- the addy mentioned is an oc from the first book (and remus is alive woo)
and this is going to be a shorter book- not as slowburny as my others :)
title description: harry is kind of just giving a short version of his very long story :)
also the conversation between isabel and her aunt in english was :
"Hi Auntie, I'm going to be late- no no no- not in Spanish. Auntie I don't want- it makes the passengers uncomfortable. English. Please. I am going to be home late. Don't stay up..... I'm taking a group out of town.... No they are not going to murder me.... Yes they are white, that shouldn't calm your nerves.... I'm done with this conversation, stop hating your own people. I love you..."
bye now love you <3