Overview: Set in end of HPGOF. What if, at Voldemort's rebirth, he'd given Harry more than bad memories? What if his Death Eaters took more than Cedric's life?
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. He belongs to J. K. Rowling's :)
Chapter Three:
When Harry woke he felt agony rip through the upper part of his face as he forgot about his eyes and tried to open them. He let out a shout of pain and Madam Pomfrey was promptly by his side to scold him. 'Potter! You must stop trying to open your eyes. I've managed to close the wound but it won't heal if you keep trying to open it!' Harry could only nod. 'You have some visitors. I'm going to let them in but if I feel they are working you up, they are gone.' He heard her receding footsteps then her voice, more distant than before. 'And they can only stay for twenty minutes.'
Harry heard a squeak and the next thing he knew he was being tackled by a very bushy-haired person. 'Hermione, you're hurting me,' he croaked. She squeaked again then pulled back.
'Oh, Harry,' she sobbed.
'Blimey, mate, what happened?' Ron apparently was here too.
'One of the Death Eaters got me with a curse. It was Dark magic, there's n-nothing we can do; I'm blind…' he choked a little at the end of that sentence.
Hermione let out a wail and flung herself on him again and Ron muttered 'Blimey'. He felt another person hugging him, sobbing slightly.
'I'm okay, I'm okay,' he muttered going red at all the attention.
'H-Harry, is it true? What Dumbledore's saying, that V-Vol-Voldemort is back?' Hermione asked, stuttering of the Dark wizard's name. He nodded his assent and spent the rest of their visit retelling the story. He figured out that his other visitors were Bill and Mrs Weasley. When he had finished his tale, Madam Pomfrey appeared and shooed Bill and Mrs Wealsey out; apparently they'd had more than their allocated twenty minutes.
'Miss Granger, Mr Wealsey, if you'd be kind enough to step into my office. I need to discuss some things with you,' she said, slightly cryptically.
Harry felt slightly annoyed. 'If it involves me, I'd prefer if you'd talk with me present,' he snapped.
She sniffed then said, 'Fine. Take a seat, you two.' Harry heard the sound of them sitting down. 'Now as Mr Potter as no doubt informed you; he has been blinded. Due to the Dark magic inflicted on his eyes, there is nothing we can do. There is no way that Mr Potter can regain his sight. When this became apparent, Professor Dumbledore asked me to ask if you would be able to accompany Mr Potter as guides and assistants for the remainder of the Hogwarts year.'
Harry felt a mixture of shame and pride as his friends both immediately gave their consent. 'Professor Dumbledore has told me that Mr Potter's relatives will not respond well to his new condition and has requested that you continue this position during his stay there until a permanent assistant is found.'
Her words were again met with consent and Hermione even offered to be his permanent assistant. 'That's very kind Miss Granger but Mr Potter's assistant will need to be on hand at all times and due to your education you will not be able to do this,' she explained gently, seemingly moved by his friends' attitudes.
'I don't want a permanent assistant; I'll manage by myself thank you very much,' he growled, annoyed she was assuming that he needed or wanted one.
'Mmm,' Madam Pomfrey didn't answer. 'About your roles; Mr Potter will need help navigating the castle and grounds, showering - though probably only once or twice,' she added hastily when she saw Harry's face, 'You will need to be within ear-range at all times. It takes a while for a person to become accustomed to the lack of sight and Mr Potter can easily become lost. Don't be too eager to help though as no doubt Mr Potter will want to maintain as much independence as possible; so wait to be asked, don't presume you're needed. Mr Potter, don't try and do too much on your own. You must remember that it is difficult to become accustomed to blindness and your friends are here to help, not to judge. There is only a week left of lessons and Mr Potter will not be leaving the hospital wing before the end of them. Arrangements will be made for next year, but for now that won't be necessary. I think that is all, any questions?' All three declined. 'Good, now this boy needs rest, go on.' And with that Hermione and Ron were shooed out of the Hospital wing.
The next week passed quickly and uneventfully. All visitors except staff, Hermione and Ron were barred from the Hospital wing. It was hard to keep track of time as he couldn't see anything. He couldn't look at the time and he couldn't tell if the sun was up or down. Madam Pomfrey soon tired of him constantly asking what the time was and started ignoring him. She was allowing him to get out of bed for small bursts, so as to become familiar with walking with a guide. On his last day he waited anxiously for Hermione and Ron to arrive so that they could take him to the Gryffindor Tower.
'Mr Potter?' Madam Pomfrey was talking to him.
'Yeah?' he asked.
'I said I'm going to be taking your bandages off now. We procured a pair of sunglasses that should be able to hide the scarring if you wish,' she told him. Harry hesitated; was the scarring that bad? That he wouldn't want anyone to see him anymore? He decided to go on the side of caution and nodded. She approached and while halfway through un-wrapping his bandages, Hermione and Ron arrived.
She stopped but Harry interrupted quickly. 'Let them see. I want them to know what I look like,' he pleaded.
'Okay,' she agreed stiffly. Then swiftly let them in and told them what was happening and what to expect. She then continued removing the bandages. When they were fully removed, Hermione gasped and Harry's heart sunk; it must be pretty bad… 'Here you go, Mr Potter. Miss Granger, Mr Weasley? Would you please accompany Mr Potter to his dormitory?' He took the glasses gratefully and covered his disfigured face with them. He climbed out of bed and held out an arm.
It took a moment but Ron grabbed his hand and guided him to the exit. Harry stopped and Ron gave him a minute. He turned his head. 'Thank-you Madam Pomfrey,' he said softly and he really meant it. 'Hey guys? Could you just take me to our common room? Don't get angry at people staring…I mean I would if I was them,' he asked softly and his friends promised.
It took a while. Ron wasn't used to guiding him yet and he wasn't used to being guided yet either. It didn't help that Ron seemed uncomfortable to be so close to another guy, whether that was because he was getting stares that Harry couldn't see or he just didn't like it, Harry didn't know. Either way, it was kind of awkward. Ron slowed down every time they got close to a staircase until Harry asked him whether or not he could walk and talk about a staircase at the same time. That eased a bit of the tension but not a lot. Finally they reached the Fat Lady. Harry didn't realise at first and was about to snap at Ron for slowing down at a staircase again when he heard the familiar voice. 'Password?'
Ron gave the password and the portrait swung forward. There was a second of noise coming from the hole before quiet. Ron carefully helped Harry through the hole and they stood rather awkwardly in the entrance. Nobody said a thing. Harry could almost feel the stares and he murmured to Ron, 'Could we go upstairs.' His friend nodded and guided him up the stairs and towards his bed. Harry sighed appreciatively as he sat down but jumped back up almost instantly; he'd sat on something quite hard. 'Ow!' he exclaimed, and then groped around his bed until he found what he had just sat on. It was a bag and a note. He picked up the note. 'Ron, could you read this for me?' he asked
'Sure thing, mate.' He took the note from Harry's hand and read out loud. ''Dear Mr Potter, here are your winnings for the Triwizard Tournament. Normally a ceremony would take place, however, due to current circumstances it was deemed un-appropriate. Enjoy. Sincerely, Cornelius Fudge.' Your winnings?'
'Yeah, the winner of the Triwizard Tournament gets a thousand galleons,' he muttered, embarrassed. He groped around again until he found his trunk and dumped the gold inside.
The farewell feast was that night and Harry, with Ron's help, spent the rest of the time up until then packing his trunk. He didn't want to go the feast. It would mean having to slowly make his way down to the Great Hall, listen to Dumbledore's speech and, worst of all, put up with the whispers of the rest of the students. He sighed. 'Ron? I'm not going to the feast,' he said.
'What? Wh – oh right, okay. I guess I'll see you later then.' Harry listened to him leave. He really wanted to speak to Sirius. He was really starting to worry as his godfather had promised to see him when he woke up. So far, he was yet to show.
A hoot told him that Hedwig was nearby checking on her master. He smiled. 'Hello, Hedwig.' He heard something drop. Obviously someone else was there.
'You say something, Harry?' asked Seamus.
'Yeah,' he said, an idea forming in his head, 'Could you do me a favour?'
'Yeah sure, what d'you need?' he asked with a hint of nervousness.
'In my trunk, near the top there's a scrap bit of parchment. Could you take that out? Good, now tap it with your wand and say 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.'' He heard Seamus exclaim softly. 'Can you tell me where Dumbledore is?'
'H-He's in his office Harry,' the Irish boy replied.
'Good, thank-you. Now tap it again and say 'Mischief managed'. Could you write me a quick letter please? It's to Dumbledore. 'What's happened to my godfather? Harry.'' He waited for the scratching of the quill to stop. 'Thanks Seamus.' He turned and gave it to Hedwig, who soared out of the apparently open window.
'D'you need anything else, Harry?' Seamus asked, awkwardness apparent in his voice.
Harry smiled. 'No that's it Seamus. Thanks,' he answered and he heard Seamus exit the room quickly, obviously hoping to get out before Harry changed his mind.
Harry lay back on his bed and waited. After a few minutes he heard Hedwig return and he held out his hand. She nipped his finger affectionately and his fingers went to her leg. There was a letter there and he suddenly realised he should have asked Seamus to stay a little longer. He opened the letter, annoyed that he couldn't read it, but the letter started talking. Not in the way a Howler did, but as if Dumbledore was next to him.
'He is in the Ministry for questioning. As chief of the Wizengamot, I have arranged for a decision to be made by today so that he may met you off the train. The trial is going very well in our favour, but I am not allowed to say much more. I will let you know of the result,' the letter-Dumbledore said, 'I suggest that you attend the farewell feast.'
Harry frowned; he was happy that Sirius seemed like he was going to be pardoned, but Dumbledore's request for him to attend the farewell feast seemed impossible now.
'Mr Potter?' a voice called from downstairs.
Confused Harry called back, 'Up here.'
Harry recognised Professor McGonagall's voice as she ascended the stairs. 'The headmaster has asked that I accompany you to the Great Hall. May I ask where Mr Weasley and Miss Granger are?'
'I didn't want to go so I told them to go ahead,' he replied getting off the bed and using the corner of his four-poster to walk into the centre of the room and extend his arm. McGonagall quickly took his arm and led him to the staircase. She was careful but not hesitant like Ron, she used her voice to warn him that certain obstacles were approaching rather than slowing down and Harry was grateful. Still, they made slow progress and when they neared the entrance of the Great Hall, he could hear the sound of the students. He paused.