Chapter 3: Settling In

Harry Potter woke up in a bed for the first time in his whole life. The situation from a mere day ago was so drastically different. Hiding burgeoning psychic powers, biding his time while surviving his home situation. Versus now. Hiding from the most powerful wizard, politically and magically, in the whole world. But hey, there was a bed. Progress. Oh, and having magic was obviously better.

The room was a fairly standard size with a twin bed and a few old pieces of furniture. Harry had put his trunk at the foot of his bed. The oddest thing about magical society was the lack of electricity. When he could magic light into existence, maybe then he'd be able to adapt. He could figure it out how to do it without a wand, but he had work to do.

Harry was still somewhat in survival mode. Last night he had read and memorized half of his schoolbooks. Today, he would try to accomplish a few things. The first was to find a better method of disguise. According to Rockgrit, James Potter was well known enough among some people that even hiding the scar might not be enough, and he looked like his father in too many ways. The second was to see what magic could do for his eyes.

He went down to the pub and got some breakfast. It was mostly empty this early. The pub going crowd thinned out, and those heading into the Alley weren't in full swing.

"Hey Tom," called Harry from under his cloak, "know where I can get my eyes fixed? And any disguise method you would recommend?"

"There's no disguise method you'd be able to use properly. And what's to fix? Can you not see?"

"I can't see without my glasses," Harry stated the obvious, a bit confused, and trying not to get annoyed.

"So wear them?"

"But I'd prefer not to wear them."

"Then you couldn't see," replied Tom, equally as perplexed as Harry.

"But I'd prefer NOT to need them. They get in the way, they break, and they can fall off," Harry facepalmed.

"So get glasses that don't get in the way, break, or fall off?" Tom supplied happily.

"But… are you telling me wizards have never bothered to find a way to fix eyesight?"

Tom explained slowly, "They're not broken. It's just your eyesight isn't very good. Would you fix your ability to run? Wizards have ways to improve eyesight just like they have hasting spells and all kinds of ways to run faster. Glasses are the best way."

Harry nodded and didn't bother to keep it going. Change of plans for the day then. Go get new glasses, see what the options are. Maybe fixing eyesight permanently was too expensive or complicated.

After finishing breakfast Harry felt extremely odd. He never had a day of rest, summer always meant more work, not less. He hated when there was no choice but to work, and had come to enjoy the work he made himself do. Idle time was being trapped in a cupboard.

Before he left, Tom wrapped his forehead in bandages. Harry almost slapped himself for not thinking of such a thing. Now he could get his eyes examined without worry. Still, as a precaution, hood up, his face could be recognized. With all of his preparation, Harry made his way back into Diagon Alley.

# # #

Argus's Optical Emporium was less an emporium and was instead one of the smallest storefronts on Diagon. Still, Harry made his way into the narrow entrance and was wholly unimpressed by what he saw. On either side were rows of glasses on display, going for about three meters back. At the back of the store was the counter, and that was it. Nothing led Harry to believe there was anything magical about the store. Major disappointment.

"Welcome to the glasses emporium, how can I help you?" A man in his thirties droned with no enthusiasm. His head was resting on his arms as if he had been sleeping.

"Well, I'm new to the Wizarding World, so I don't know what options I have for fixing my eyesight. I know in the muggle world there are alternatives to glasses, even corrective surgery. Is there anything like that here?" Harry asked preparing for the worst.

The man perked up, "Muggle-born, eh? I don't know what surjree is, but we have alternatives. There are daily potions you can take, though they can get expensive and you have to go off for a month every year. Best for sporting events really."

"I was looking for something more permanent," Harry explained, "Surgery is where they make cuts or alterations to something. They make it so you can't feel it, make cuts to your eye, and then heal them. Couldn't you just heal with magic?"

The man shuddered and began to rant, "We don't have such quackery! Wouldn't work either, your homeostasis is having poor eyesight. Most healing magic works to get things back to normal. If you cut your eye and then healed it, your eyesight would remain the same. You'd have to purposefully leave a scar to leave an impact, which would only happen with a cursed or highly magical injury. Imagine! Cursing your own eyes to heal them, muggles are deranged!"

Harry ignored the man's rant. "Are there any permanent solutions? Or something less intrusive than glasses on my face?" he complained. Glasses made him more recognizable, his broken lenses were the symbol of the Dursley's lack of care for him. They were a vulnerability.

The man twisted his mouth. "You're not the first muggle-born to have a little meltdown over this. Even Albus Bloody Dumbledore wears spectacles, okay? You said you've got money to burn? It's better spent on a really good pair of glasses. I'll even add some features."

# # #

Harry Potter left the Emporium with glasses that were the very opposite of his original pair. Frameless, gold, and rectangular. He felt as if he could sleep with them on his face, not that he would… Accepting he may always wear glasses gave Harry an odd calm, it was a part of who he was. His scar was also who he was, and it looked like he would have to accept the existence of both of them for a long time. There were temporary solutions if and when they became inconvenient, maybe that was enough. Maybe a world of almost limitless possibilities and magic was enough.

Harry chuckled at his previous arrogance and overconcern. If the specter over his whole life and most powerful wizard alive also wore glasses, who was he to think he could fix it? Fame was not a problem; it was who he was! He was Harry Potter, warts and all! He stopped short of pulling off his hood and bandages, but walked a little lighter.

He remembered the list for new students and thought about getting the rest of the requirements except for a wand. If he got a wand, the temptation might be too great. Most of what remained was for Potions. Could he get ahead with potions?

Harry quickly went into the general supply store and cauldron shop, and got everything ready for Hogwarts. Vault 711 was very useful for not being recognized as Harry Potter. Then he traveled back to The Leaky Cauldron and went to his room to study.

"The general supply store was too cool…" Harry grumbled as he eyed his further purchases spread on the bed. The most important being a magical light to read with. He threw everything else into his trunk except for his books.

He cracked the next book.

# # #

Harry finished all his schoolbooks and felt his stomach grumble. Looking at the clock on the nightstand, it was dinner time and he had skipped lunch. Not unusual for him, but now that his focus returned to the world of the living, he really should get some food.

He opened the door to his room and walked down the stairs to see what the special was for the night. It turned out to be a pretty spicy okra stew. He had the stew and some brown bread with heaps of butter. Tom even gave him an extra-large bowl.

When dinner died down, Tom went over to Harry to see how he was.

"Enjoying your little vacation at the cost of the wizarding world and my health?"

Harry mopped up some stew with a bit of bread and smiled cheekily from under his hood. "I don't care for your politics if you have to sacrifice a child for them."

Tom stepped backward, as if stung.

"Sorry, I was just joking Tom."

Tom sighed. "It's okay. Maybe I don't either. But you've never been at war kid."

Harry didn't have a response. His ignorance of the world was killing him. It might actually. A world recovering from a civil war, ended by the death of one man through a baby. Nothing about it screamed stable or safe. Where was the dark lord's faction now? Where did the boy who lived fit? He had to find out for himself, and quickly. While he was more sympathetic to Dumbledore's side, it didn't mean he had to join it.

# # #

Late into July Harry had settled into something of a routine. He'd read most of the day, but always make a trip out to the Alley for a short stint and ask for advice on books and skills to develop. The old woman at the secondhand bookshop, Adeline, was especially helpful. It turned out, from her book on nontraditional magic, some of what he'd been doing with his 'psychic powers' was considered the beginnings of occlumency and legilimency. He couldn't advance too far without a legilimens or a willing occlumens, but the emotional control was one of his most useful skills.

Beyond Adeline, he had also gone to Obscurus Books to check out their selection and various recommendations, as well as back to Flourish and Blotts. It became clear over time what their various biases were. Obscurus was more international, Flourish and Blotts took the ministry line on everything, and Adeline had a love for more heterodox views relative to magical Britain.

Harry had also to make sure to avoid the teachers when they came through. He often timed his trips out right after breakfast, to avoid Professor McGonagall bringing along a muggle-born student. There was one morning where Harry was told to stay upstairs, Professor Snape was due to pick up supplies in the Alley, Dumbledore's left hand if McGonagall was his right. Snape was sharp, a legillimens, and a contemporary of his father in Hogwarts. According to Tom, his personality was such that he would make a lone child his business. Dumbledore had thankfully never come through in this time.

It was Sunday night well after dinner, this was when the Leaky Cauldron was the emptiest. Harry chose to hang out at the bar for once and keep Tom company while he swept. Suddenly, there was a flare, the floo! Harry couldn't see directly into it from where he was seated at the bar, but Tom jumped ten feet.

"Dumbledore! What are you up to?" Tom almost squeaked.

"Ah, yes. Tom, good to see you. Do you have the time?"

"You know my schedule Albus, what do you need?"

"I've been so busy until now, the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is finally filled. But there are a couple of important things this year that have until now been neglected."

Harry almost audibly gulped, he didn't know what the other things were, but he knew he was possibly very important, and most certainly neglected.

"Always talking in circles Albus," Tom chided as he rolled his eyes.

Dumbledore began to speak quickly, getting more agitated as he went on, "Yes, right. Straight to it then, as best I can with this convolution. Harry Potter is coming to Hogwarts. I was initially in a rush to send out more letters a few days ago. The artifact is almost at the Ps. But well… My informant on Mr. Potter's health has not seen him outside his home for some time. So naturally, I went to check the ward device in my office. It was operational, but Harry was not within 50 feet of the house. Altogether not a worry, he could be at a friend's. I've now checked thrice, and at no point was Harry ever at home. I asked Mrs. Figg to try and find out the situation earlier tonight, but she was comically rebuffed. I don't know how timely we'll be able to get access to Mr. Potter."

"Have you never checked in on the boy yourself Albus?" Tom asked as he glanced over to Harry's robed form.

"No," a guilty sounding Dumbledore admitted, "I thought it best not to interfere with his muggle life. My impression of his Aunt and Uncle was that they do not take well to magic. And I am so often busy, better to let him warm up to me when I can have more consistent contact. I must also admit I wanted to avoid him having an inflated head, you knew how James was as a boy. Fame is always such an unexpected cross to bear."

"What do you want Albus?" Tom tapped his feet impatiently.

"Right, right. With the kerfuffle surrounding the boy, I'm short-handed as is. I was going to send Hagrid to fetch Harry, it would mean the world to him. And then I was going to have him take an item from Gringotts when he goes with Harry. Could you possibly get the object yourself? It's in Vault 713. Use the pretense of telling Hagrid of the change in plan to observe the boy."

"You need someone a bit more observant than Hagrid to assess the state of the child and you don't want Hagrid distracted by a mission," said Tom.

"Precisely."

"Sounds a bit convoluted Headmaster Dumbledore. For all the time you take plotting behind the scenes, you could just as easily go yourself," Harry spoke up, unable to take it anymore.

Tom scrunched his eyebrows and grimaced.

There was total silence from Dumbledore's end, and then the floo flared once again, to have an old man with purple starry robes, silver hair with a long beard, and half-moon spectacles come through. The vision of what a wizard was supposed to be, if not a little frazzled. That old man, Dumbledore, turned towards the robed Harry and then Tom with a stern expression, and then a worried one.

"Harry?"

Harry took off the hood and bandages and walked over to Dumbledore. Tom sat down on a stool opposite the fireplace, and poured himself a drink.

"Looks as if we've both been attempting to learn about each other from afar," Harry challenged.

Dumbledore looked an odd combination of surprised and worried, completely at a loss for words, until he found them.

"I haven't been put on the back foot like this for many years. Your prankster father is no doubt looking down upon this with glee. As for how and why you are here, I suspect I am in for a story? Yes?" Dumbledore sat down next to Tom and looked down his spectacles at him.

Harry laughed. "What you are implying there, headmaster, is that you are more deserving of an explanation than I am." Before the headmaster could get a word in Harry continued, "And maybe my father would laugh at your situation headmaster, but I am certain he would not laugh at mine."

"You have been preparing for a long time to tell me off, haven't you…?" Dumbledore's eyes became misty, and he slumped, looking very old indeed. Harry felt some guilt, he truly didn't know the whole story. This was him blowing off steam, which was so very unlike how he behaved at his Aunt and Uncle's.

"I can move past it if I get a proper explanation," Harry shrugged.

And so, Dumbledore explained. From the terror of Lord Voldemort, to the attack on Harry's parents, to dealing with the political aftermath of the boy who lived. What was missing was how and why. Sirius Black, his parents going under Fidelius, and Lord Voldemort specifically going after his parents. Dumbledore clearly loved him as a grandson, and yet he was not to be trusted.

"Is something wrong Harry? I know it's a lot to take in," said Dumbledore.

"Sirius Black," said Harry, as Dumbledore paled.

"You are already aware of your parent's traitor then," Dumbledore whispered.

"A strange traitor who leaves his godson all his gold. I'm skeptical, did you ever actually talk with him? Or just have someone else observe him for you?"

"The facts of the case-"

"Are suspect."

"I'm not used to being interrupted, Harry. Please don't make a habit of it," Dumbledore warned, "You are a child, and shouldn't be concerning yourself with things of that nature."

Harry held his tongue, he still had to live under the man for seven years. And at the moment, Harry appeared very much the child with a chip on his shoulder. Better to let it lie so the man considers what he was saying. If Sirius Black was innocent, some powerful people could be in a great deal of trouble.

Dumbledore let his glasses fall slightly as he looked down upon Harry. "You're much too precocious for your own good, aren't you? And I would like my own explanation now."

Harry told the story of the Dursley's abuse and his coping strategy. Dumbledore didn't react as he went through how Dudley was encouraged to bully Harry, and how school and home life were a battle for survival. He only hinted at Vernon's more violent tendencies where magic was concerned, and completely left out his practices and what he had been up to more recently. He also only mentioned overhearing strangers, not a snake. He knew what Parseltongue was now, and the potential implications of his being a speaker. Thank… Merlin? Yes, Merlin. Thank Merlin he had gone to the secondhand book shop.

"After everything, she apologized and gave you the information you needed…" Dumbledore mumbled.

Did Dumbledore think his Aunt had a change of heart? He couldn't tell Dumbledore about his threatening behavior, as his story would start to unwind.

"I have made some grave mistakes in my life, and you Harry, are at least in the top five. I'm truly sorry for what happened to you. I hope you don't hate muggles for the behavior of your Aunt and Uncle."

It was a probe. This guy was relentless. "A sincere apology with a probe as to my politics makes for an insincere apology, Headmaster."

Dumbledore massaged his forehead, Tom put up his hands in resignation when the old man glanced at him. "We're both tired, I think. I understand I am the object of your ire, and I will take some well-deserved licks, but don't forget I'm on your side, Harry. Now how are we going to resolve your living situation? While you may have avoided detection Harry, I put you at your Aunt's for a reason. There are protections there. Your Aunt did invite you back at any time Harry-"

"I am inclined to tell you it is none of your business. But I will compromise and say I am willing to discuss it, during the school year," Harry remarked.

Albus Dumbledore considered for a moment. "Very well. I know a losing battle when I see it. I will bid you gentlemen goodnight. Expect post tomorrow Harry. Do you still want a guide, or is it unnecessary?" Dumbledore asked as he gathered floo powder in his hands.

"Yes. I want the whole experience." Harry smiled. "I am still a child."

"So long as you know," Dumbledore deadpanned before disappearing into the fire.

Tom was silent as Harry stared into the flames where Dumbledore had disappeared.