When Harry woke up, he heard the sounds of a familiar room. It had a slight antiseptic smell mixed with a magical floral scent. There was no mistaking it, he was in the hospital wing. But it was pitch black. Why couldn’t he see anything?

“he’s blind.” The voice echoed in his head. Yes, he was blind. Harry felt a surprising sense of peace begin to fill him. He couldn’t be expected to kill Voldemort if he were blind. There’s no way he’d be able to do it. A huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. But the peace didn’t last and the weight came thudding back. He knew his duty and he knew the prophecy and he knew that he wouldn’t back away from his responsibility. Snape had been there; hadn’t he said that he could still do something? Snape? Snape was hurt.

“Snape?” Harry said out loud.

“Oh, Potter, you’re awake,” Harry heard Madam Pomfrey say. He could tell that she must have been close to his bed, but he hasn’t heard her before.

“Is Professor Snape going to be alright?” Harry asked.

“Professor Snape is in his rooms. If he doesn’t exert himself and stays away from trouble, he should be fine in less than a month.”

“He’s okay?” Harry asked feeling strangely hopefully.

“No, he most certainly is NOT okay. He should remain in the hospital wing for at least a week so that I can make sure the healing potions don’t have any adverse affects, but he refused.”

‘Oh,’ Harry thought. He wished that he could just refuse to stay in the hospital wing, but he knew that wouldn’t work for him. “What’s going to happen to me?” Harry asked.

“What do you mean dear boy,” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Is there anything you can do?” Harry asked.

After a silence that was just a beat too long for Harry’s liking, Madam Pomfrey replied, “Nothing that we have tried so far has worked. It’s possible that something new will be created that will be able to heal you.”

Harry shook his head. Couldn’t magic cure everything? It could cure Professor Snape and he’d been hurt pretty bad. Harry knew that he wasn’t hurt as bad as that, so why couldn’t they cure him? Maybe they didn’t want to cure him, Harry thought. Maybe there was someone at the school who know how powerful he was becoming and they were getting scared.

That person would have to be Dumbledore; he was the only one with enough influence. He began to wonder why Dumbledore hadn’t been down to the hospital wing to talk to him yet. Was he feeling guilty? No, that’s stupid, Harry thought. Dumbledore was the one who’d been helping him prepare to fight Voldemort. Dumbledore was the on who had put all these expectations on his shoulders. Dumbledore wouldn’t want him to be weak.

“I know it’s hard to take in,” Madam Pomfrey continued. “Is there anything that I can do to make you feel more comfortable?”

Harry shook his head. He didn’t need any special favors or people sitting around feeling sorry for him. He was feeling sorry enough for himself. “But what’s going to happen to me?” Harry repeated. “I mean, I can’t see. I can’t go to Hogwarts; how in the world would I be able to keep up in class, and I can’t do magic,” Harry replied. “Am I going to be sent away?” …to St. Mungo’s Hospital, Harry thought but didn’t even want to say out loud.

“Why in the world would you think that? Magic doesn’t require vision. Mind you it won’t be easy, but I’m sure you’re up for a challenge.”

“I can’t even walk to the loo without falling down,” Harry protested. He didn’t like that though of trying to stumble his way down to the Great Hall or to classes with everyone staring at him and the Slytherins laughing at him.

“It will take time, of course, Mr. Potter. You can’t expect to just jump back into doing things the way you’re used to. I would never set you free in the casltle without first helping you learn to use your disability.”

“Use?” Harry asked.

“Your other senses will make up for your lost sight. You will just need to learn how to use them,” she replied.

Harry had a smart remark on the tip of his tongue, but he held back when he remembered that he did in fact recognize his location because of its smell.

“Professor Dumbledore and I have already set up living accommodations for you for the rest of the summer. If everything goes well, you should be able to start coursework again with your classmates in the fall.”

“Living accommodations? You mean I’m not staying here?” Harry asked. St. Mungo’s wasn’t far from his mind. Maybe he could share afternoon tea with Professor Lockheart.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d want to be cooped up in the hospital wing all summer. Professor Snape has agreed to keep you in his rooms for the summer.”

“What? Snape agreed. Not bloody likely!”

“Watch your language, Mr. Potter. Your other option is to go to a specialty hospital. Professor Snape has agreed to help you if you don’t want to leave Hogwarts. The choice is yours.”

Harry knew that he had little option.