For the first time in ten years, Severus was anxious to the point of near panic.

He sat in one of the rickety booths in The Leaky Cauldron, sandwiched between Albus (dressed today in particularly jarring robes of pale orange, embroidered with a multitude of little pastel blue stars) and the grimy wall.

Across from them sat a very nervous Rubeus Hagrid, looking, for all the world, as if he'd been crying since they had seen him last, the morning before.

"Thank ye f­fer comin', Professors," the hulking half­giant sniffled. The massive man took a moment to fish out a filthy red­checked handkerchief the size of a tablecloth from his many pocketed trench coat, "I got the boy, but, er… well," a heavy sniffle shuddered through the man and, subsequently, the table, "There's two thin's I think ye ough' ter know, about 'im."

Albus shifted beside Severus, moving his withered old hand from his steaming tea cup to rest on one of Hagrid's large forearms.

"It is quite alright, my boy, quite alright. Calm down and let us know what is going on," Albus' voice remained as serene and genial as ever, but Severus could tell in the way the old man held his offensively bright robes in a white knuckled grip under the booth table, that he was just as apprehensive as Severus found himself in the face of Hagrid's uncommon grief.

Hagrid sniffed loudly and mopped at the entirety of his face with his handkerchief in an attempt to calm himself again. Severus scowled and resisted the urge to tap his long stained fingers against the surface of the table in impatience.

"Righ'. First thin's first," Hagrid huffed out, sitting up straighter, "The boy's blind."

"Blind… ?" Albus' voice shook almost imperceptibly, and Severus couldn't help but look over at the Headmaster. The older man held an ancient hand over his beard, pressing into his chest in tentative shock, "How… how blind?"

"Mostly, Professor Dumbledore, sir," Hagrid's eyes crinkled as his face took on a pained grimace underneath his thick black beard, "Though he says he can sorta see thin's or
people that got magic about 'em. Ye'll hafta ask 'im how it works, though. Can't say I understand what all 'e's meanin' when 'e talks about it."

Albus let out a rather forceful breath and nodded absently, visibly pulling himself back together.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, processing the information before the old man forged forward with the conversation.

"We'll have to bring him to Poppy as soon as possible to see what we're working with in regards to his education at Hogwarts, then," Albus frowned, running a hand through his long beard, "He wasn't blind the last time I received an update on his status at the beginning of the month… Did he tell you what happened to cause his condition?"

Hagrid shook his shaggy head in the negative.

"Jus' said it were an accident, that's all."

"Hm… Curious. And the second thing, my boy?"

The half­giant leaned forward, shoving his handkerchief into one of his pockets and sending the fiercest look Severus had ever seen on the normally docile man's face in Severus' direction instead of looking at Albus for the first time since they'd floo'd down at his urgent request.

"That boy… 'e's Lily's son alright," Hagrid's voice lowered threateningly, giving a fair impression of a swarm of killer bees, "Lily's boy through an' through… but that boy innit a Potter. Not a drop o' Potter blood in 'im, mark my words."

"What­" Severus shook himself and cleared his throat to banish the traitorous shocked whisper it started at, "What are you trying to imply, Hagrid?"

Entirely too suddenly the half­giant stood, pushing the table across the floor as he shoved his girth out from behind it in order to leave.

"I think ye both ough' ter come meet the boy yerself, jus' ter… well. It'll be easier than tryin' ter explain."

Harry sat on the bed in the room that Hagrid had bought for them to stay in after he spirited Harry away from the Dursley's the morning before. A smile flittered across his lips as he ran calloused fingers over the smooth wood of his new wand. He hadn't been able to part with the object since he'd obtained it an hour before they returned to the inn.

His hand, a swirling golden appendage in the sea of endless blackness he saw otherwise, seemed almost attached to the rod of wood. The wand glowed and ebbed with the same gold he saw as his own body, warm with magic as if it were a live creature rather than an instrument of his own power.

The feeling, he mused, was an awful lot like how he imagined the tides of the ocean might pull and push against one's body if pulled under.

A contented sigh left the boy, and he shoved the wand into his waistband. Harry stood from the bed, causing the floorboards underneath his feet to creak loudly. He smiled and shuffled his bare feet diagonally against the rough wooden surface until his hands met the nearest wall. Upon touching the crinkled old wall paper his smile spread to an elated grin.

It was absolutely wonderful that everything in this new world seemed so blessedly imperfect. Anything that wasn't shrouded in the colorful glow of magic made enough noise that it became incredibly easy for Harry to figure out where he was and what was going on around him. Life here could be considerably less complicated to navigate in the magical world than he was used to at his Aunt's disturbingly pristine home where the only magic to see was his own.

Harry took two side steps to his right, cautiously feeling with the side of his foot until it brushed the sharp edge of the desk leg Hagrid had sat him at the last night to explain things. He fumbled a bit as he shifted his hands from the wall to the desk, but managed to find his way into the chair in front of it with no real issues.

Moments later a hesitant, but resonant knock came from the direction Harry remembered the entrance to be.

""Arry, are ye decent?" Hagrid's low, gravely voice asked, "I 'ave some people fer ye ter meet."

"I'm ready, Hagrid," Harry smiled. The door creaked open, and the gigantic, blurry, saffron colored form Harry had come to recognize as Hagrid lumbered across the groaning floorboards and into the room.

"Should I stand?" a frown curled around Harry's mouth.

"Er, nah, tha's alrigh'. Don't worry 'bout that," Hagrid shifted around and faced the door over his shoulder, "You lot can come in."

The sound of footsteps proceeded two more color covered figures as they entered behind Hagrid. The brightest of the them arrested Harry's attention immediately. He was a smiling old man, seemingly fashioned out of pure rose gold. All of his edges were sharp and his form was immaculately detailed. Even the man's long beard dripped with the swelling color of overwhelmingly powerful magic. Harry was fairly sure that the man must be what Merlin looked like in later years.

Harry swallowed nervously, choosing to stand regardless of Hagrid's reassurance. His hand trembled a little as he held it out to the old man.

"You must be the Headmaster," Harry breathed, voice a little saturated with awe, "Hagrid said you were a great and powerful man, but I never imagined­... Oh, forgive me.I'm Harry. Pleased to meet you, sir."

One warm, rose gold hand enveloped Harry's smaller yellow gold, and the old man chuckled from low in his chest.

"Pleased to meet you again, my boy," Professor Dumbledore replied. His voice was soft, and filled with something that sounded like an ember bed felt. He had a very comforting, bell-­like kind of voice.

Harry smiled and let his gaze shift from the Headmaster to the person behind him. The third man was a towering pillar of a person, encased in very solid silver and a
smattering of indigo. He was no dimmer or crisply clear than the Headmaster, but more subdued and cool. This certainly was not a man to be dealt with lightly, either.

He took in the features of the tall, magic saturated man with growing curiosity. There was something about him that seemed irritatingly familiar, but Harry couldn't quite remember what or why.

"Good afternoon, sir," Harry smiled awkwardly, attempting to have his gaze meet the other man's with only a vague knowledge of where his eyes were in general, "Forgive me, but, do I know you, sir…?"

Severus stood rigidly in the threshold of the dingy little room Hagrid led them to. It felt as though all the air in his lungs had vacated itself at the same instant he set his eyes on the scrawny boy waiting within.
It was easy to tell that Harry's eyes had once been the same brilliant emerald green his mother's were. Now those eyes, Lily's eyes, were covered in a milky white film like sclera had been pulled across the colorful iris and pupil. Severus felt his heart twist in his chest at the sight.

After that moment of shock, Severus took in the rest of the boy's appearance and solidly slipped back into the same state of bewilderment and awe. Those muddled verdant eyes were set in a much softer looking version of Severus' own face at eleven, and all Severus could manage to say in his complete and utter surprise was a breathy and mumbled, "Oh, thank Merlin, you have your mother's nose".

Albus chuckled, periwinkle eyes twinkling in delight. Hagrid frowned and grumbled something (very likely uncomplimentary) under his breath in that voice that reminded Severus of a sleepy hive of bees.

The boy gently pressed his fingers (Merlin, those were Severus' hands!) to his nose, with a little smile, "My mother's nose…?"

"And her eyes, I dare say," Albus nodded in agreement.

"You knew my mother…?" The boy let his hand fall from his face and cocked his head to the side in curiosity. His voice was positively filled with hopeful wonder.

"I…" Severus breathed deeply, "Albus, I have no idea what I'm doing here."

"I think, my dearest Severus, that you are here to collect your son," The twinkle in the old man's eyes had reached critical levels. The boy scowled thoughtfully, and Severus was almost disturbed to realize the level of similarity between the two of them in that expression.

"There must be a mistake, sir. My parents are dead."

"I believe that the mistake has been entirely in the opposite direction," Albus smiled, "Be assured, however, that this is just as much a surprise for us as it is for you, dear boy... Am I correct in that assumption, Severus?"

"You are correct…" Severus replied softly, "I had no idea what so ever that anything had come of…" Severus cleared his throat awkwardly, "I had no idea."

Albus nodded cheerfully and chuckled again, "Lovely, just lovely. It appears we must make arrangements, and change some plans, hm?"

Severus' eyes narrowed at his mentor, frustrated shock translating to a more familiar and easier to manage emotion for the dark wizard. Thinly veiled irritation.

"Indeed, Headmaster," He drawled, opting to look at the old man rather than the confused and frustrated blind eleven year old that was scrutinizing Severus with eyes that seemed much more focused than they should be, "Though maybe that could wait in lieu of getting the boy to Madam Pomfrey. That seems considerably more pressing, in my
opinion..."

"Right you are, my boy," Albus frowned, twinkle dimming to a less dangerous point upon the observation of the boy in question, "Hagrid, if you could gather up Harry's things
and meet us at Hogwarts, please. We'll take him on ahead to our exceptional Medi­Witch."

"O' course, Professor Dumbledore, sir."