Damnit! Harry Potter thought angrily, his glasses had fallen off his bloodied, beat up face reducing him to only being able to see simple blurs and shapes. Despite his sudden blindness, he still viciously fought on. He knew it would be his death sentence if he were to bend over and try to find his fallen glasses. Or, more like a added death sentence, seeing as what he was doing at the moment was enough to make up a dozen death sentences.

"Avada Kedavra!" The death eater shouted, aiming for Harry's heart. Harry on instinct from hearing those syllables knew to duck, and thats just what he did. Collapsing face first to the bloody earth, he could feel and hear the green curse fly over head and hit the death eater Harry was sparring. The man fell to the ground dead and the death eater who casted the curse paused, having not expected that to happen.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" The feminine voice of Hermione Granger screamed urgently, just in time. The cutting curse made it's way to the death eater who casted the killing curse and the cutting curse launched itself straight towards the death eater. Within the split second that it took, the death eater laid on the ground with a wide gaping mouth and the familiar haunting dead eyes staring off at nothing. The red blood poured freely from the wound on his neck and chest, the scent hung on the humid, stuffy air sickeningly. Harry's grateful green eyes met Hermione's. There was no need for any word to be spoken between the two, that quick glance said everything that needed to be said. Hermione knelt beside the death eater's body and picked up a pair of simple, yet broken glasses. Muttering a repairing spell directed towards the broken lenses, she handed them to Harry. Quickly, as if they had not just witnessed -and caused- the death of a man, they returned to fighting stances, their wits about them.

"Over here!" A man's voice shouted out, his voice hardly carried over the eery, high-pitched screams. Harry started running, Hermione right behind him. The scene before them was disturbing to say the least, but they had seen much worse. Neville was stiff as a board on the ground, no doubt from a body bind curse, watching with distraught eyes as Luna Lovegood was suspended in air, writhing and screaming. Her blonde hair billowing out around her head crazily, blood was raining down on the ground and slowly, they could see the life begin to drain out of her eyes.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" Harry yelled, pointing towards the cloaked figure. His spell had hit it's mark, a warm spray of blood splattered out of the death eater, and he fell to the ground, barely alive. As a result of this, Luna feel to the ground breathing heavy and twitching violently as a after affect of being crucio'd for so long. His motive was to run towards the girl, the girl who had such a imagination and hope beyond anyone he has ever met. She was so innocent, so pure. But before he could reach her, Hermione's and Neville's combined yell stopped him.

"HARRY!"

Harry spun around and watched with wide eyes as a unknown curse was coming right at him. He could barely hear Hermione shout protego, he could barely hear Neville's hopeless yells. All he was aware of was the oddly black colored curse inches away from him, shimmering dark, deadly colors. Harry couldn't help but think of how strangely beautiful it was. The next thing he was aware of was blinding, mind numbing pain. It seemed to erupt in his core and it spread through his body, hitting every nerve, making sure he was feeling every bit of it.

"Dumbledore!" a voice shouted, it was from a redheaded female, tall, lean built, and who had the most beautiful green eyes. The voice was near frantic, as were most voices when a person was facing a unknown problem. People tend to fear the unknown.

"Lily?" Albus Dumbledore responded, he stood up from the chair he was sitting in and curiously peering over his glasses towards the woman. She was running towards him, breathless, chest heaving, taking in large gulps of air.

"Someone," she panted, "broke in," she panted again, "the castle!" She finished finally. The curiosity left Dumbledore's eyes and he became dead serious.

"Death eater?" He asked. Lilly shook her head, "I'm, I'm not sure!" She felt like banging her head against a wall. How could I be so stupid? "I didn't even check for the mark, I-" Dumbledore cut her off with a knowing glance. She seemed to visibly relax, knowing that he wasn't upset with her for making such a trivial mistake.

"You have to come see for yourself, looks badly injured, I don't recognize him." She rushed down the stair's leading out of Dumbledore's office, Albus following close behind her. Before long, they were in the great hall. Thankfully, it was the beginning of summer break, meaning that no students would be here, all students safe at home.

In the middle of the great hall was Poppy, she was leaning over a small figure. From the looks of it, the person was unconscious. The closer Albus and Lily approached the boy -or man- the details of his injuries were visible. He was bloody, scarred, and bruised. He looked as if he had just come back from a gruesome battle. His face was swollen, making it nearly impossible to see who he might be.

"I've been using some diagnostic spells on him, and he's got a lot of blood loss. Nothing broken, don't know how he's managed that." Poppy said, she looked up at the headmaster.

"Well, lets move him into the infirmary, then we can decide how he got here." Dumbledore looked over at Lily, "Alert the order, we got a strange intruder at Hogwarts, doesn't look like a threat, but if he was able to break in here, then I believe his looks are deceiving." Lily Potter felt a chill go down her spine and slowly, annoyingly, spread out to her finger tips. If Dumbledore was indirectly saying someone could be a threat, then that person was a threat.

Pain.

The aching, stinging, annoying kind of pain.

Harry groaned. His head was throbbing horribly. He felt like hell.

"Come quick! I think he is waking up," Poppy called softly, not wanting to startle the unknown boy -er man- honestly, he had the looks of a boy, but he seemed to be so much more than that. All the scars, it just seemed to much for a boy. It made her feel better if she thought of him as a man.

Was that Poppy? Harry thought, the words, although he was sure they were spoken softly, sounded like loud explosions going off in his head.

"Give him some space," Poppy snapped, Harry almost felt like laughing and if it wasn't for the pain resonating in his head and the rest of his body, he probably would have laughed. It was so like her, her caring nature, her ability to know just what her patient needs. He released a groan. He knew he should open his eyes, he knew it. But thinking of that simple, small action, made him think of how much work it would be to actually do. Come on Potter, don't be lazy. He said firmly to himself. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Lily Potter who hadn't left his bedside ever since he had come the infirmary gasped, a hand come up to her mouth quickly. The young man had been in the hospital wing for several days now, without even showing a sign of waking up. Now here he was, suddenly just waking up as if he had been awake the whole time. She felt relieved, happy that he was alive, satisfied that he didn't seem to be angry, he didn't look evil. It wasn't until she stared into his eyes when she noticed the first odd, scary thing about this patient. It was as if she was looking into a mirror. His green eyes matched Lily's own green eyes perfectly. She wasn't the only one who noticed it. Dumbledore was trying his best to contain his curiosity towards the patient, but he was failing miserably. This boy had Lily's eyes. There was no doubt about that.

Harry blinked several times. There was several figures in the room. He knew from hearing one of their voices, that one person in the room was Poppy. Just knowing that tidbit of information reassured him. At least he wasn't in one of Voldemort's dungeons. His eyes flickered over towards the other two figures. One tall, intimidating with what looked to be large, long grey blurs on their face. Aberforth? Harry thought, he assumed the grey blurs was a abnormally long beard and a head full of long hair. With that description he would of thought the name was Dumbledore, but of course, the man was dead. Next to Aberforth was a smaller figure, the person had red hair. He couldn't really make out their features, but due to the color of the hair, Harry was thinking the person was a Weasley. But, the only Weasley's Harry knew of with long hair was Bill, Ginny, and Molly. They are all dead. Who is this person?

Despite Harry's horrible vision, he could tell that all three of the people in the room were staring at him expectantly. He knew he should say something, anything. But at the moment, his mind was to frazzled, he was confused, he was in pain, and honestly, he had nothing he wanted to say. Perhaps his sudden tongue tied behavior would ease up if he could just get his glasses. He absolutely hated to be left in the dark. Literally. Not being able to see was one of Harry's worst fears. He was vulnerable when his glasses came off, he couldn't see, and you can't protect yourself from things you can't see. Thats why he usually kept a sticking spell on his glasses at all times, but of course, he couldn't keep up the spell when he was unconscious.

"Sir?" Dumbledore began, trying to word himself carefully, he didn't want the unexpected guest to feel uncomfortable or threatened.

That one simple word, that voice, it sparked something inside of Harry. Dumbledore? He thought getting more confused by the second. That voice had to be Dumbledores. Dumbledore is dead! Harry growled at himself, no one can be brought back from the dead. Not even Dumbledore. This had to be Aberforth. It just had to be, who else could look so much and sound so much like Albus Dumbledore?

"Aberforth?" Harry's voice croaked, it took much more effort than Harry thought it would to speak. His throat was so dry, so sore, he needed water. As if reading her patient's mind, Poppy summoned a glass of water and gave it the the young man. As Harry drank thankfully from the glass, Albus frowned. Lily looked over at Albus confused, how did this person know Aberforth? She knew that Dumbledore was thinking the same thing. Automatically, Albus was a bit weary of the young man laying before him. Albus wasn't sure if he was friend or foe.

"No," Dumbledore began tentatively, "I'm Albus, Albus Dumbledore." The look on the young man's face was one of confusion, sadness, irritation, with a bit of denial.

"No," Harry moaned, "You're Aberforth Dumbledore." He said defiantly, his heart set on the idea and Lily had a feeling that he wouldn't be swayed so easily in his belief of the headmaster's identity. Poppy gave Albus a questioning glance, she two didn't know what to think of the scene unfolding before her. Before Albus could respond, the black haired boy spoke up again.

"Glasses," he seemed to force out of his mouth. "I," he paused and took a gulp of water. "Can't see," he finished and blinked a couple more times, looking around the room again, and that was when Dumbledore noticed how the green eyes seemed to have a hard time focusing on the various points of the room.

"Oh! Of course!" Poppy started, jumping up quickly, startling the green-eyed, black haired man with her sudden movement. "I forgot about his glasses!" She left the room quickly, scurrying to wherever she placed the glasses. Harry finished the water in his glass, then held it out to whoever and tried to ask for more, but his throat wouldn't allow it. It was to raw.

"I'm going to get him a healing potion for his throat," Lily said, walking over to the shelves in the infirmary and searching among the various healing potions for just the right one. Harry visibly stiffened. He vaguely recognized that voice. It sounded like-, no... It couldn't possibly be. He shook his head roughly, as if he was trying to shake the mad thought out of his brain. "Ahh, here it is. I was starting to worry that we had run out," Lily Potter gripped the small vile in her hand securely, and poured some into the same glass he had been drinking from. She poured a small amount into it, then held it out for the boy with the striking green eyes to drink. She took Harry's hesitancy to drink the glass she gave him with the potion inside of it as a sign that he didn't trust her enough to drink it. But really, he wasn't focusing on the pain in his throat, or his head, or the stupid healing potion in the glass. He was completely listening to Lily's voice. It was soothing, calming, but it also stirred a haunting fear within him. This is not Lily Potter, this is not my mother. I'm just imagining things, this woman is a Weasley, this is not my mum.

"It's alright, you can trust me. It's just a healing potion for your throat, go ahead, drink it. It may taste bad though, just to warn you." Lily nodded encouragingly at the young, handsome man. He took the glass and drunk it's contents in one swallow. He coughed a bit, a affect from the terrible after taste of the potion. Lily wasn't really paying attention to that though. She was to busy studying his face. The swelling had gone done considerably. She just couldn't believe how young, yet how mature he looked. He looked as if he had seen everything, she was close enough that she could feel power coming off of him. He was handsome, despite the various scars on his face. One of them was in a odd lightening bolt shape, it rested on his forehead. Her eyes moved over and she stared into his green eyes, those beautiful, deep emerald green eyes. It was at that moment when she suddenly was struck with how much this black haired man looked like her husband. He had the same facial features, the same untamable short, black hair. Only major difference was his eyes. Lilly's eyes. This scared Lily. Who is this man?

"I almost forgot where I left these!" Poppy exclaimed, in her left hand was a simple pair of black rimmed glasses. The circular lenses were worn, barely being held into place, it was obvious that the only way the glasses could still be holding together was because of extensive magic.

"I'm honestly surprised they haven't crumbled yet," Albus commented jokingly.

Harry took the glasses gratefully from Poppy. Placing them over his eyes, the world around him seemed to open up. All the dark blurs and weird blobs came to life.

"No," Harry whispered, his eyes widening, his heart beating a mile a minute. "No, this can't be happening." He sat up quickly, to quickly. He swayed a bit, as light headedness hit him full force.

"Lay back down! Don't over exert yourself!" Poppy scolded, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and gently push him back down. Harry shuddered at the contact. He leaned away from Poppy's caring hand and gave her a look that was close to a glare. Poppy, surprised, took a step back. Dumbledore's eyes narrowed and as quick as lightning, he had his wand out, pointed toward the unknown person. Lily was more hesitant at grabbing her wand.

"This can't be, no, no no!" Harry said in disbelief, he is eyes darting back and forth between Lily Potter and Albus Dumbledore.

"Young man, you're going to have to calm down and put your wand away," Albus articulated each word sharply, speaking slowly. His blue eyes never wavered off of the green-eyed man in front of him. Harry hadn't even noticed that he had his wand out, it was instinct for him now, to grab his wand whenever he was unsure, scared.

"Who are you!?" Harry tried his best to not let panic seep into his voice, but he failed miserably.

"I believe I should be asking you the same," Dumbledore said calmly. Harry glared at the old man.

"I said, who are you!?" He growled, his wand hand shaking slightly. Dumbledore, probably thinking that it would be for the best if he just answered the young man's questions.

"I am Albus Dumbledore, as I have informed you earlier." Dumbledore did not lower his wand, it was still held high and pointing at the black haired man's chest.

"Liar," Harry whispered, his eyes glanced again back over toward Lily.

"I can most assure you that I am he," Albus began, "Ask me anything. Let me prove that I am who I say I am." The young man paused and thought about that for a minute. Lily glanced over at the headmaster, but Albus never returned the glance. He kept his eyes trained on Harry, trying to figure out the boy.

"What is your favorite Jelly flavor?" Harry asked, his mind slowly going haywire. Lily rose a eyebrow at the odd question. Dumbledore gave no sign that he thought the question was odd.

"Raspberry," He said confidently. Harry's wand quivered.

"Candy?" Harry asked.

"Lemon drop."

"The species and name of your animal," Harry hoped that he would stump the faker on this one. Now Dumbledore looked slightly surprised. How did this young man know about his animal?

"A Phoenix named Fawkes." Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes did not blink while he talked. Yet, Harry still seemed unconvinced.

"What is death to the well-organized mind?" Harry asked with finality. This was his last question, if this man answered correctly, then he would have to be Dumbledore. But that doesn't mean Harry won't stay suspicious.

"To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." Dumbledore quoted himself, saying it word for word. Harry blinked. He dropped his wand slightly and stepped back. Dumbledore noticed this, and he two slightly lowered his wand.

"And you?" Harry's voice cracked, he tried his best to not break down and cry as he stared at his mother.

"I am Lily Potter," Her beautiful, calming voice resonated within Harry's mind. He slumped agains the wall and fell to the ground in a pitiful heap. His body shook with silent sobs. Lily's green eyes looked over at Albus questioningly, and he seemed to shrug. Deeming the boy to not be a threat at the moment, Dumbledore put his wand back into his robes. Lily, hesitantly, walked over to the young, hysterical boy. She placed a comforting hand on the back of his should and he seemed to melt into her touch. In that one simple moment, Lily's heart broke. Her maternal instincts took over and she couldn't help but feel sorrowful for the boy, protective of him.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, it's okay," She whispered softly, taking the boy into her arms and hugging him tightly. Harry had never felt safer in his life. He felt his fears drain away. He forgot about his tormentors, he forgot about his emotional scars, and for the first time, he felt like a normal boy. Dumbledore watched the two, the boy was obviously troubled. He looked vulnerable and weak.

It took several minutes for Harry to calm down, to get over that fact that he was in his mother's arms, even though she did not know it. When he finally did come back to his senses, he felt like a idiot. Like a fool. How could he let himself break down like that? And Harry vowed to never loose control over his emotions again after that. He pulled away from Lilly's warm embrace and stood up slowly, on shaky legs, taking on a sense of bravado, hoping he could fool Dumbledore.

"Now, I would like to know who you are," Dumbledore said softly, yet with a 'no nonsense' tone.

The words came out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them, before he could think about the implications.

"James," Harry paused, the lie came out of his mouth easily, it rolled off his tongue as if he had always been called that. "James Black."