Blink. Blink.

With lethargic movements, Harry opened his eyes and stared at the blurry shadows on the ceiling. Somehow, he couldn't remember where he was or what had happened last night. Tracing the shadows on the ceiling, he became dazed. Last night felt like a hole in the back of his brain. It was as if he hadn't existed at that point in time.

As he rubbed his eyes, he felt a familiar sickening cold. He reached for his glasses and scrambled off the bed. Backing away, he looked around with wild eyes hoping no one had seen him. As his trembling hand enclosed around the cool door handle, Harry heard a voice to his left.

"What?"

"Not what, Mr. Potter, but yes ma'am?"

"Sorry ma'am. What were you saying?"

"Get in this bed this instant! I was up too long last night for my patient, who was in horrible shape, mind you, to be gallivanting around Hogwarts!"

"Sorry."

Seeing the effect that her tone had on Harry, she softened her glare and said in a calmer voice, "Now, where were you planning on going looking like that?"

Harry looked down and realized that he didn't have a shirt on and there were bandages around his feet. With his eyes wide with fear and his face burning with embarrassment, he climbed back into the infirmary bed. He trembled and looked regretfully at the door. He couldn't let anyone know of his freaky "problem" but he didn't want to upset Madam Pomfrey. She had apparently looked after him and he wasn't used to that. It felt nice to know that someone cared for him even though he felt that he didn't deserve it.

"Now that we are settled, just take these potions and Professor Dumbledore should be here in a moment to have dinner with you."

"What?"

"We have been over this Harry. Now let us try this again…"

"Sorry, Madam Pomfrey. Why is Professor Dumbledore coming to have dinner with me?"

"He would like to speak with you about what had happened last night."

"But…"

"And! I hope that you are respectful and use your manners. Now, relax and take those potions."

With trepidation, Harry reached over, grabbed the vials and choked back the foul tasting liquid.

He couldn't breath. He didn't even remember what had happened last night, so how was he supposed to answer the headmaster's questions? Not only that but he was supposed to eat a whole meal in front of him. Just the thought of food made him queasy. Panic clouded his mind and he shot up out of bed. With a crash as the empty potion vials hit the floor, he started to run to the door again. He just couldn't face the piercing blue eyes of the headmaster!

"Mr. Potter! Good lord, boy! Calm down!"

"No."

As Madam Pomfrey sputtered with rage, Professor Dumbledore walked in with a tray of food. "I suggest, my boy, that you do as she says."

Freezing, Harry stared into the twinkling blue eyes of the headmaster.

"Now, Harry."

Without looking away from Professor Dumbledore, Harry climbed back under the sheets and turned his head away. His pale hand found the crease of sheets and he nervously played with it. Professor Dumbledore spoke quietly to Madam Pomfrey for a few moments and then turned back to Harry. He smiled and his eyes twinkled with pity as he looked at the pale, confused boy. He knew this was going to be hard for him.

"How about some dinner, Mr. Potter?" Professor Dumbledore laid one tray of food on Harry's lap and placed another on a table in front of him.

Harry stared hard at the edge of the plate. Somehow, he was going to have to figure out a way to eat this and keep it down. He watched as the brown gravy ran down the side of the chicken. He wanted to puke right then.

".."

"Please, sir, call me Harry."

"Well, Harry, would you explain to me what happened last night?"

He took in a deep breath to settle his churning stomach and looked up into the smiling and patient face of the headmaster.

"I…"

Harry averted his eyes to avoid those eyes. He always felt uncomfortable looking at Professor Dumbledore. Something never seemed right about him even though he seemed to genuinely care for Harry. It's not as if he felt like Professor Dumbledore was a bad person but he just knew that he couldn't trust him.

Harry was rarely wrong.

Putting on his best brave face, he whispered, "I don't know what happened last night, sir."

Sneaking a look at the headmaster's face, he saw that he was deep in thought while he sipped from his goblet.

"Ah. I need to know the truth, Harry."

Dammit, thought Harry. Chewing on his lower lip, he pushed around the food on his plate. What was he supposed to say? He didn't want to lie. He sighed. Uncle Vernon was right. He would always be the freak no matter how much he tried to escape it.

After all, you can't escape what you truly are.

"I guess it looks like I am the…again," he whispered to himself.

"Excuse me?"

"I can't tell you what happened last night because I don't remember. Its as if I wasn't there at all."

"Are you sure?"

Looking Professor Dumbledore straight in the eye, he said in a firm voice, "Yes, sir."

Professor Dumbledore never in his life felt this uncomfortable. There was something about this child that he had never seen before. Every time this boy looked at him, he felt as if his soul was being put on display for the world to see. He now understood what Severus was talking about

Those eyes….Oh they change the meaning of heaven.

He watched as Harry pushed the chicken around his plate. He became worried. The boy was not eating like he should be. The only thing he attempted to eat was the broccoli. Looking into his face, he saw the deep, black circles and the creased brow. He had a haunted look about him and a demeanor of someone much wiser then their years.

"Harry."

Harry looked up with tired eyes and waited for the headmaster to continue. He didn't know that this would change the course of his future.

"Harry, I think that it would be wise for you to be taught Occlumency."

"Sir, what is Occlumency?"

"You shall know when the time comes for your first lesson. However," with a twinkle in his eye, Professor Dumbledore leaned back and spoke the next sentence with caution, "I think that you should be taught by someone you are comfortable with."

"Who will be teaching me?"

"Professor Snape, Harry."

There wasn't any use in keeping his dinner down then.