Hey all. Disclaimers apply from the first chapter. And here, we have the appearance of the inevitable letter from Lily. Have fun!

**

Harry woke a few moments later when Professor Snape stumbled after apparating. He opened his eye and looked in horror at the man carrying him.

Could it possibly be. Professor Snape??

Snape looked down at Harry, and, noting that he had woken him up, muttered, "Sorry, Potter."

The three wizards stormed into the front door of Hogwarts, finding the other professors already assembled there. Madame Pomfrey ran to Snape.

"Oh my- that isn't.."

"Yes, Poppy, it's Potter."

The other professors swarmed around the boy until Snape gave them his signature death glare. They scattered, and Poppy hurriedly directed him away.

"Come on, Severus. I'll get to work on him immediately," said Poppy hastily.

The potions professor with the once-again unconscious Boy-Who-Lived followed the medi-witch to the hospital wing.

Severus set the broken teenager down on one of the beds and helped Poppy take off the boy's shirt. Albus Dumbledore, who had been standing behind Severus, winced as he saw the extent of Harry's injuries.

"Go!" demanded Madame Pomfrey. "Leave! Get out of here!" Severus and Dumbledore backed out of the room, leaving the witch to her work.

**

Harry woke up two days later with barely a little sting on his back, some considerable pain in his knee, and his eye still swollen shut. No longer was he in his own cupboard, but in a white bed in a very large room. His bed was surrounded by white curtains.

'Am I dreaming?' he thought to himself.

Suddenly one of the white curtains was pulled back to reveal a very familiar medi-witch.

"Madame Pomfrey?" Harry asked, bewildered. OF course, all that came out was "Mmmm..." due to the fact that Harry's lip was about three times the size it should have been.

"Don't try to speak, Harry, dear. You're at Hogwarts now. You're safe. Rest, Harry. It's going to take a while for you to heal." She shoved a potion down Harry's throat and left him to his slumber.

**

Across town, from a dusty storage center, a tattered gray owl slowly slipped into the night. On its foot, it carried a heavy package that had been lying in safekeeping for fourteen years. Its contents would change everything. Everything. And while the Boy-Who-Lived slept, the final words of his dead mother were slowly, silently, carried to the air on the wings of a bird.

**

Twenty-four hours later, Harry Potter awoke to the sound of a soft cooing drifting through the air. An owl stood on his bed, looking at him curiously. It offered the parcel on its leg to the boy in greeting. Harry took the letter, and after a few more cooing noises, the old gray owl took off into the morning air.

Harry sat up stiffly, reaching for his glasses on the table next to him. Much to his surprise, the glasses were nowhere to be found.

"Madame.." he managed weakly. Fortunately, as there was no one else in the room, the witch heard him and pulled back a curtain.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," she said, smiling.

"My.." Harry pointed to his face.

"Oh, your glasses. They weren't with you when you came in. I'll call the headmaster; perhaps he can conjure some up for you." She paused, seeing the rather large letter sitting unopened on Harry's bed. "What's that, Harry?"

He motioned toward the open window.

"Oh. Well, I'll go get Dumbledore. I'll be back, Potter." She left, giving Harry a few moment of precious consciousness to be spent wondering how he got there. What did he remember? Being accused of cursing Dudley, which was nonsense, of course. He remembered getting beaten- good grief, how could he ever forget something like that? And then he vaguely remembered waking up and seeing.. Snape?

"Harry, Harry, good to see you awake!" blundered Dumbledore, obviously happy to see him.

"'Lo," Harry murmured. The Headmaster smiled.

"Well, Harry, we don't have your glasses. I can conjure some up for you or I can just fix your eyes. It's your choice," he said.

For the first time, Harry realized that he could clearly see the Headmaster. In fact, he could clearly see everything. "Erm.."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Harry?"

"I don't need them," he attempted to say, but it came out as incoherent muttering. Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore looked at him strangely. "I can see," he tried again. This time, Dumbledore seemed to understand.

"You can see, Harry?" Harry tried to nod his head, but, upon feeling pain shooting from the back of his head, decided against pursuing the action.

Dumbledore frowned. "Alright then, Harry. If you need anything, tell Madame Pomfrey. She'll help you. I'll be back to check on you later." With that, Dumbledore strode from the room.

Harry looked at Madame Pomfrey, who was still eyeing him strangely. He smirked at her with a scarily close impression of Snape and she snapped out of her daze. "Well, Potter, it seems that your uncle has beaten your eyesight back into you! There's a silver lining to everything, ey, Harry?"

Harry looked at her numbly and she realized her mistake. Bringing up the boy's uncle, what was her problem? Obviously, Harry had been through severe trauma. It would have been slightly intelligent to keep her mouth shut. Poppy felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Sorry, Potter. I.. I didn't mean to.." resisting the urge to smack her forehead, the medi-witch said no more and hastily left the room.

Harry watched Madame Pomfrey tear out of there, though he still felt rather numb. He was completely taken aback by the feeling of resentment that was growing within him. Well, she did kind of deserve her embarrassment. Let her live with her guilt. He didn't care.

Harry shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and got a shock of pain in reply. Where had such thoughts come from? That was terrible. Obviously, his mind must still be reeling from Uncle Vernon's punches.

~~~~~ * * ~~~~

Hey..i still need to know how to do bolds and italics! Thanks to my reviewers! (