A/N I am almost to the point of not being sick anymore so yay! I'm a bit disappointed that Chapter 5 (Healer Peverell) only got 5 reviews but there's nothing I can do. Thank you to those who did review, I'm glad that everyone liked Healer Peverell. To those who had concerns that she may work for Voldemort, she does not. I'm not sure how the trail against Petunia will go; I'm winging it to be honest. However, unlike some stories, she will have fair representation. I don't think its right that in some stories the person on trail has no lawyer and is assumed guilty. Also, a very intuitive question is "Will Harry get a pair of magical eyes like Moody?"

I don't think he will. That is a very interesting possibility but I think it would only distract Harry. I want him to learn to use his "disability" to his advantage. Giving him magical eyes would give him a crutch, something to lean on, and I want him to become stronger on his own.

Important notice: I was asked about Harry's age and realized I had not addressed this before. This story takes place during the summer after Harry's sixth year making him 16 going on 17. However, Harry has a lot on his shoulders and has been forced to grow up rather fast. Keep that in mind.

Moving on…goddamn writer's block. As always, silly rabbits this story is not for kids!

Last time:

He would never be the same person he was before. He would never be as brave or as sure of himself, but he would heal. If there was one thing Harry had shown it was resilience.

'He'll get better' she thought, 'I'll to everything in my power to make sure'.

Her eyes glowed furiously as she schemed. That was the only thing it could be called as she used all of her Slytherin intellect to plan ways for Harry to avoid pain, old rivals, and new villains.

Now:

It had been a slow year for Dallas Kilian. Since his last case, Churchill vs. Millary, has lost his client five million galleons…needless to say it had been a slow year.

It was not his fault that the evidence was stacked against Silas Churchill. It most certainly was not his fault that Churchill had decided to confess that he had "had relations" with his wife's sisters.

Sigh. If only he could have one great case, a case that was not about money or divorce. Even in he wizarding world divorce seemed to be popular and, as with the muggle world, full of gold diggers.

It was then that he heard a tapping on his chamber door. The tap was obviously from an owl but who would contact him, failure that he was?

The letter was…light blue. A matter of grave importance.

Healer Pevelrell's assistant didn't really know what to do. First, she had to inform The Daily Prophet that Mr. Potter (insert dreamy sigh here) would be pressing charges. She was supposed to contact papers, lawyers, friends, and family.

Where to start, where to start?

Her first thought, was of famous lawyer Henry Armstrong. In the past two years, he had risen from a nobody to the most prominent law wizard in the magical world. He had won his last five cases, all of them earning millions of galleons in compensation.

Her second thought, however, was of her cousin Dallas Kilian. His story was the opposite of Henry Armstrong's. He had lost his last case and was now unable to rise to his former glory. One case was all it took to drag his reputation through the dirt and now…now could be his big chance.

Katie Bell set about contacting the two law wizards. She also contacted several mediocre lawyers, but in her heart, she knew. She knew that it would come down to the wizard on top and… the wizard who had fallen from grace.

In a manor, off the coast of Greece, on the small "uninhabited" island of Atokos

"It has been long since we last met…Peter Pettigrew," hissed Voldemort.

This…this…worm…lay at his feet, kissing the hem of his robes. Disgusting. Did the slimy bastard actually thing he was fit to bow at the feet of such a great dark wizard?!

He had been the one to destroy his adversary, Grindlewald, during this century's first war. He had been the one to form an entire army of wizards to do his bidding. He had been the one…who was destroyed by a baby who could not speak, let alone cast magic.

Clearly, the world was against him.

Or rather…Dumbledore's world was against him.

Dumbledore, that barmy old jackass who put on the façade of caring old "grandfather" when really all the people in the world were his to use. It was as if Dumbledore was an old woman at the loom and the entire world his string.

Dumbledore took the credit for Tom's defeat of Grindlewald. Dumbledore forced him to grow up in an orphanage, become a weapon, and kill, just so that Dumbledore could be seen as "the savior".

No more. Harry Potter was this decades Tom Riddle. Potter was being molded, with or without his knowledge, into Dumbledores new weapon. He would be used, and then…he would be discarded. Tom Riddle, Voldemort, whatever his name was, would not allow this injustice to continue. He was not a callous murderer, he was not Dumbledore.

The question, how to get the weapon out of the storeroom. The answer…Saint Mungo's.

Room 143: St. Mungo's

"I can do it myself, Mrs. Peverell," Harry sighed exasperatedly, "I really don't feel comfortable needing help every time I want to change out of these ridiculous arse-less gowns."

It wasn't her fault really, she had only been trying to help.

'The thing is,' Harry thought, 'every time she helps me I feel more helpless. I'm blind, not invalid.'

Harry had been in the hospital for a grand total of ten days. The first four days (all of which he had been unconscious for) had not been all that bad. Two more days had passed with relative ease, the pain potions he was on causing him to sleep more than usual. After those days, however, he had begun to loose patience.

The last four days had been misery. Every healer, every nurse, ever bloody candy striper asked him how he was feeling.

If there was one thing no one wants to be asked while laid up in bed, thereby leaving it impossible to escape, it's "How do you feel?"

'Bollocks, how the hell do they think I feel. I'm tired, I'm in near constant pain, this room reeks of sanitation, I can hardly move, and everyone's talking about me. Oh, and did I forget to mention that my aunt abused me and made me blind? How silly of me!'

Back on topic, Healer Peverell made him feel…helpless. She had been an enormous help in the beginning of course. She made him feel secure and safe, but this…this…smothering was really beginning to grate on his very last, practically non-existent, nerve.

It was time to make a break for it.

The question was how to get out of his cage? Like an animal whose had been locked up, he could feel the anger in him building. He wanted away from the people who had manipulated him all of his life. Dumbledore, being chief of the manipulators, was obviously going to be the hardest to get past.

After several days of living in darkness, being unable to even attempt to open his eyes due to scar tissue, he had begun to see things. It was definitely hard to explain but somehow he had learned to sense certain things around him. He supposed what he was sensing was magic, the colors representing the intentions behind the spells.

A little known fact was that no magic could be done unless there was an emotion behind it. Even in school, the determination to not fail drove their spells into existence. In Neville's case, his emotions were so easily influenced that his spell were influenced by more than one emotion. This caused the spell to not have a specific "job", thus weakening it and making it seem as though Neville was weak.

On the contrary, if Neville could learn control he would become one of the most powerful wizards alive.

Being blind gives a person a lot of time to think.

The point is he could see the colors in the room around him. Healer Peverell's robes had a soft red enveloping them. The robes had a mediocre heating charm on them. The emotion behind the charm was protection.

The potion cabinet in the corner had a dull gray tint. This meant there was a locking charm on them; again, the emotion behind the charm was protection.

Lastly, the doorframe was eerily blood red with black veins circulating through. That meant a combination of spells, in this case three. Normally, a spell would envelope an object. However, when two spells were cast this causes a mix of colors, symbolizing the mixture of spells. When three spells were combined, the mixture becomes diluted; one color becoming dominant and the others become thin and stem-like.

The spells on the door were a dangerous mix. One was an entering ward. The ward allowed only a select few to enter and leave. Harry could tell he was not among those who were set to leave.

One was a monitoring charm. The charm acted a bit like muggle security cameras, recording everything that went on the room. This was generally considered an invasion of privacy unless the person being monitored had a psychiatric problem. Seeing as he was being treated for an injury and had shown no signs of madness or depression…

The last charm, and dominant color, was a memory charm. It's reason was not apparent. There were too many types of memory charm for it to be identified or it's purpose guessed.

The emotion behind the spells was hate. The person who had cast the spells was Albus Dumbledore.

Clearly, it was time to leave.

"Healer Peverell, I actually could use your help with something. It's rather important and I wouldn't ask except I fear something dreadful may happen to me if I remain here much longer.

First, I need to know something. Just whose side are you on?" he turned, awaiting her answer with open eyes.

These past few day of darkness had led him to realize that Dumbledore's path was not one of lightness. If she said light, he would ask for a portion of Sleeping Draught. If she answered dark, his answer would be much the same. But if she chose a different path, if she choose the path that was finally becoming clear to him, then he would ask for her help with something much more important.

He would ask for her allegiance.

A/N The long awaited chapter! Cliffhanger! I know, I am a bitch. To me, this cliffhanger does not seem very suspenseful, the answer is pretty obvious. I hope you guys liked it and I am truly sorry it took so long to get here. I abandoned it for a while and put it off when I didn't get much feedback from the last chapter but it' finally done! I hope to hear some positive things but I would not be surprised to get some flames.

p.s. if you have not read "The Marriage Stone", I highly recommend it. I was amazed and enthralled.

Josephine Darcy, the author, is pretty much who you have to thank for me finally finishing this chapter.