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Hands and Face Behind the Voice	By : CalecusX Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 8178 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: Harry Potter & its characters all belong to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from it.

Chapter List
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Hogwarts Great Hall - July 18, 1990

"Good morning, Filius" his fellow professor, Pomona, greeted cheerfully.

He smiled and took his seat next to her. "And one to you too, Pomona," the charms professor returned good-naturedly as he reached for the pumpkin juice.

It was indeed a splendid morning since he had just finished the final layers of enchantments on the books that were meant for Mr. Potter. The books would actually read out loud whatever passage was indicated by a simple touch to the page's corner. These books were to help Mr. Potter learn about the wizarding world, and the staff agreed that those were crucial for him to know first.

When he told the child of this development, the boy was ecstatic and thrumming with the energy to read it. It was heartening to see that Mr. Potter had certainly inherited his mother's enthusiasm to learn, and Filius was determined to assist the boy in any way possible.

He glanced around the table as a pile of eggs gathered onto his plates. As it was the summer holidays, only the staff table was set out in the Great Hall for those who remained. Minerva was speaking to Albus with that stern frown of hers that Filius knew commanded obedience from her students while the Headmaster continued to smile absently. To his far left, Hagrid stuffed large heapings of bacon into his mouth as the half-giant conversed with Kettleburn, and Filius could see the tiny pieces of meat masquerading in Kettleburn's hair. The charms professor felt relief in the fact that Hagrid wasn't sitting next to him today and roamed his eyes over the rest.

Some were involved in their own quiet conversations while others were too tired to talk at all in the morning. The only professor that was missing was Severus, whom he was looking for.

'It seems that Severus is eating in his quarters again with Mr. Potter,' he thought with interest.

Filius always knew that there was more to Severus than what the man showed. It was unexpected when Severus willing became Mr. Potter's guardian, yet expected at the same time if one considered the potions master's relationship with the boy's mother. He remembered them as best friends, constantly by one another's side, and sharing in their amazement of Hogwarts' magic. Those were innocent times before the war's hungry grasp had consumed any of them.

The sound of flapping wings stalled any further mutterings as the morning mail arrived. A small brown owl dropped the newspaper near his plate before flying off again, and Filius unrolled the paper to see the flashing headline of the Daily Prophet.

Boy-Who-Lived Now Blind!

By Nate Nektar

Dear Readers, it is of the greatest regret that I shall be the one to inform you that our beloved hero, the Boy-Who-Lived, is now blind. In mid-June, Mr. Potter and his relatives were in a kar crash that killed Mr. Potter's relatives. Mr. Potter was severely injured enough that his eyes were pronounced too damaged to be healed.

No known treatment has been found to help Mr. Potter regain his ability to see. It remains uncertain if this shall be our hero's permanent fate, but the immediate future does not look so well. However, do not despair my fellow wizards and witches, for at this moment, our hero is coping with the lost of eye sight bravely and is persistent in over coming this obstacle.

Furthermore, with Mr. Potter's relatives dead, the Boy-Who-Lived has been given a new guardian by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry under the charter...

The Great Hall was devoid of any noise as its inhabitants directed their attention to reading the Daily Prophet with such a focus the newspaper hadn't received in years. The stillness lasted until a small sneeze from Babbling blew their silence away, and that seemed to be the signal to ignite the discussion among them.

"Oh, goodness," Pomona exhaled with shock. "I thought the news of Mr. Potter's condition was inevitable, but the description of Severus as the guardian is..." she trailed off, struggling to find the right word.

"Well, this portrayal of our potions master is slightly different," Sinistra provided lightly.

A few of the professors nodded their head in acquiesce to the statement. Filius believed the section written on the guardianship intriguing since the Daily Prophet was infamous for its outlandish exaggeration yet it rarely spew forth such positive exaggeration. Not a lot of people would describe Severus in such a way, and he had a feeling that there was more underneath than what was revealed.

"What I wouldn't give to see that man's expression at this moment," Minerva muttered with a hint of mirth.

"What they wrote about Severus is quite curious," he mentioned. "However, it is also bewildering how the news wasn't printed out earlier than expected knowing the wizarding's world penchant for gossip."

"Yes, I have been wondering exactly the same thing," Vector remarked as she set the paper down.

A chuckle broke away from Albus as the wizard adjusted his hat. "Perhaps Severus has his own guardian watching over him," Albus hinted with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

Hagrid scratched his scruffy beard at that comment, wearing a dumbfounded look. The entire staff turned their heads in befuddlement towards the Headmaster.

"I know sphinxes that makes more sense," grumbled Kettleburn irritably.

Despite the long years since he has known Albus, Filius still found the Headmaster's quirks quite bizarre. It was highly speculated among the staff that Albus derived a sadistic enjoyment from their combined confusion and constant headaches.

It was also rumoured that the twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes was from a magical accident in his younger days. Filius knew that it irritated Minerva to no end whenever she saw it. Yet the sparkle that eerily resembled the glitter of gold, strangely fascinated the goblin in him like an itch that wouldn't go away.

o-O-o

Snape's Quarters - July 22, 1990

Steam from the coffee rolled off his mug as Severus carefully tasted the bitter liquid. Potter sat across from him as the younger wizard finished the last of the porridge for breakfast.

His eyes bypassed the newspaper resting on the table, choosing to ignore it once again.

The Daily Prophet had been printing nothing else but the same thing for the past couple of days. If that wasn't vexing enough, it seemed that the whole populace were sending Potter and him 'fan-mail' on a daily basis ever since that article came out. Mountains of letters were delivered with such fervor and speed that the house elves had resorted to compacting the whole mess in a single room to be dealt with later.

Severus shuddered in disgust as he remembered reading some of the letters that he received. Words of encouragement and support was not something one should have to suffer through in the early morning. He quickly burnt most of them with an incendio when they first appeared, especially the perfume scented letters.

Just the other day, he was mobbed by a group of well-wishers in Diagon Alley when he was out on an errand. Being surrounded by middle aged witches as they praised his good will and philanthropic action was - he would admit - one of his worst experiences. And this included his first meeting with James Potter and Sirius Black.

"Professor Snape?"

Potter's soft question disturbed him from his musings, and he glanced at the brat. He was glad to see that Potter was looking healthier now compared to before. The boy's complexion wasn't as pale, and though he was still skinny, it wasn't unhealthily so. Three full meals a day along with a nutrient potion had definitely improved his condition.

"What is it, Potter?" he asked.

"Will it be alright for me to visit Hagrid today? He says that his crup is having puppies," Potter shyly requested with a tinge of excitement.

Severus knew he would regret introducing Potter to Hagrid one day. He reminded himself to have a talk with Hagrid to be selective of the animals on whether they were truly 'harmless' or not. The last thing he wanted was for Potter to be maimed by one of Hagrid's pets. However, Potter interacting with the crup wouldn't be a bad thing, as long as it stayed away from him. The potions master didn't need a mutt or some other creature in his quarters because the boy took a fancy to one.

"Perhaps a short visit will be fine, but that is dependent on when you finish your meal first," Severus answered conditionally as he drank the rest of his coffee.

"Thank you, sir!" Potter said joyfully. The brat immediately shoved a spoonful of porridge into his mouth, chewing hastily as if each bite would determine the outcome.

Severus discovered early on that it wasn't toys - not that he would purchase such things - that would make the child happy; it was actually the simplest of things. One particular incident was the first time he said 'good night' to the boy, which resulted in Potter freezing up with a wide eyed look, very much like a deer. Severus thought he had said something wrong until a moment later Potter was blushing furiously and eventually returned his partings with a bashful smile. To react in such a way, he wondered if that was the first time anyone had said 'good night' to Potter.

The sudden sound of smashing glass immediately drew his focus to the floor where the shattered remains of a cup laid. He surmised that it must have been unintentionally knocked over the table by Potter. Severus swiftly looked over to check his charge and was surprised to see Potter's face paled a few shades lighter as his breathing quickened.

"I'm sorry!" Potter cried out in panic. "I didn't mean to, it was an accident, sir."

"Calm yourself, Potter," he tried to tell the boy, "I can perceive that it was just an accident."

The young wizard shook his head, not listening. "I'm so sorry," whispered Potter, clutching on to the table with white knuckles.

His words didn't seem to reassure Potter at all as the child continued to apologise profusely. Severus searched his mind for a way to break Potter out of this hysterical state. His eyes soon shifted to the empty mug in his hands as an idea began to surface. He raised the mug a few feet above the ground and unclasped his fingers around it. The potions master watched its progress as it fell from his hand.

"I will clean it up," Potter proposed, "I'll just-"

The crash of broken glass interrupted the young wizard's words. Potter sat motionless in his seat, completely baffled by the sound of a second shatter.

"How careless of me," he said lightly, "I seem to have drop my mug." It wasn't the most elegant method, but it was effective.

The boy's brows bent in confusion. "Professor?" At least the young wizard was calming down.

"Mistakes are bound to happen, Potter. It's all right as long as you don't let it get the best of you," Severus explained. "Now, it also doesn't hurt that with a simple reparo, this can be fixed." As he spoke the spell, the fragments from the cups flew together and reformed back to normal. 'An unbreakable charm should be placed on it next time,' he mentally noted.

Potter nodded his head slowly in understanding. The young wizard was no longer hyperventilating and seemed to be relieved that everything was fine. Did the boy think that he would be upset over the whole thing?

"Since breakfast is over, I believe there is still the visit with Hagrid to go to," Severus reminded. This should take Potter's mind off of the incident.

"Yes, sir," Potter replied, though the boy remained in his seat. Instead of getting up, Potter shifted his body towards him, appearing nervous and quietly mumbled out, "Um, Professor, do you- do you think I will ever see again?"

The question was not unexpected, but he was hesitant on giving an answer. Severus refused to lie to the boy and create false hopes. Yet at the same time, he didn't want Potter to give up.

"Mr. Potter," he said, "presently, there is no viable treatment to cure your blindness, but that can not be said for the future. The field of magic is always changing and developing."

Potter swept the fringe from his eyes as he asked, "You mean that someday there might be a treatment?"

"Indeed," Severus agreed. "We have already begun looking for alternative ways to heal your eyes, and we will continue looking until one is found."

No matter how long it took, he would find one.

o-O-o

Snape's Office - July 25, 1990

Green flames blazed in wild swirls, depositing him from the fireplace. Lucius automatically directed his gaze to the worn-out desk near the corner of the office. Surrounded by precariously balanced books, stacked upon another as it leaned in a parody of stone towers was Severus with his eyes pasted to a large tome. It seemed that his friend hadn't changed much since their Hogwarts days.

"Lucius, would it inconvenience you at all to warn me when you decide to visit?" Severus complained, raising his head to glance in his direction with narrowed eyes.

'Hm, someone is a tad grumpy today,' Lucius thought dryly. The Malfoy lord seated himself in a chair on the other side of the desk as he responded, "Why bother when I know you aren't doing anything important."

Severus arched a brow that he swore was mimicked from him. "And how would you know that?" the potions master drawled out.

"Like how I knew that you would be in your office now instead of your quarters - instincts," Lucius said. He didn't tell Severus that he had actually checked the quarters first, but his friend didn't need to know that.

Lucius had finished his business early at the Ministry, giving him an opportunity to see what the potions master was doing. Really, Severus was the only person who provided any entertainment for him these days. Well, there was also Weasley whenever he would bump into the man and mock his poor state, but those meetings often got boring very quickly.

"Well, your instincts must be failing since I am occupied with research of the utmost importance," Severus divulged, closing the book in his hands with a snap.

"Oh? What are you researching then?" asked Lucius while he grabbed a random tome from a tall stack. Moste Potente Potions was the title on the cover. 'Now, what would his friend be doing with this little beauty?' he wondered curiously. This book contained all of the dangerously known potions that could maim a person's body irreparably and distort their minds in gruesome ways. It was truly one of his favorite books.

A small exhale from Severus told him how tired his friend was. "I'm trying to find a potion that can possibly regenerate eye-sight by adjusting its ingredients or procedure in different steps," Severus explained, pinching the bridge of his nose, "and if one doesn't exist, then I shall have to attempt in creating it somehow."

'Ah, then it is the Potter boy that has Severus all worked up for,' he realised. Lucius place the book back and gave the potions master a contemplative look. When Severus devoted his mind and heart to something, Lucius knew that his friend would extend himself until the end. It was like this with Lily Evans, so why should it be any different with her son?

"I assume this is for Potter then," he remarked. "Well, have you looked in other areas beside potions?"

"Perhaps," Severus replied vaguely. "Do you have any suggestions for this?"

A suggestion he had more than a few, but Lucius knew of only one method that would work with certainty. "Rituals," the Malfoy lord stated. "There might be a dark ritual able to help him. We just need to search for it in... questionable avenues."

"Absolutely not. No dark rituals, Lucius," Severus objected quite vehemently. "You know that there is always a price to pay - sometimes too high - in exchange for something in the rituals."

That was true. Most rituals required either a personal sacrifice or the life of a person possessing a specific quality. It was a misconception that virgins were the preferred victims. As if the 'pureness' of a virgin would contribute anything to the integrity of a ritual. Unfortunately, such rituals were made illegal since the 18th century when a wizard sacrificed his whole family for immense magical power.

But he digressed, Lucius still had a friend to convince. It was a valid method and with the right ritual, there wouldn't be any need for killing (which was a shame in his opinion).

"What if there is no other way?" he protested. "What happens after you have exhausted all your efforts and searched without results, and this was the only way that could bring his sight back?" Lucius leaned forward to meet his gaze. "Would you rob him of that chance to see again?"

"Don't..." Severus bit out before his eyes slid closed, taking a deep breath of control. When his friend opened them again, they were a storm of deadly calm. "Don't you dare question what I would do for that boy."

"I apologise," Lucius said sincerely, since he truly crossed the line on that one. "But will you at least consider this option? I shall look into various dark rituals that could restore the body in any way without sacrificing too much in return," he carefully persuaded. "You will have the final call whether to go through with it or not, of course."

The potions master relaxed his features slightly as he agreed. "As long as the final decision lays with me, and I will look through the ritual myself if you find one."

"Certainly," Lucius complied easily. He knew Severus would have an opened mind about this. Well, as opened as it got when it involved lethal rituals and his charge.

Severus eventually stood up and asked, "May I offer you a drink since you'll be staying for a while?"

"Thank you, a drink won't be amiss right now, and Balthazar's Burgundy if you have it," he requested.

"I believe there is still some left from the one you gave me last year," Severus informed as he searched the cabinet. Once the wine was acquired, his friend poured for two glasses. "Lucius, I've been meaning to ask you this," Severus said mildly. "Did you happen to have any involvement with that article in the Daily Prophet?"

'So Severus has figured it out after all,' he thought to himself. Lucius tasted the fine wine, drawing out the moment as his friend waited for an answer.

"Well?" Severus impatiently asked.

"Are you speaking of the article depicting the Boy-Who-Lived as a tragic hero that has been graciously taken in by you?" Lucius asked innocently. "The same article that went on to sing praises of your warm, compassionate heart and paint you in a noble light where we all should follow in your example?"

Lucius thought the article was genius on his part, but the flowery words could have toned down a notch. Maybe he should have gone with a different writer, but the only other writer available was that Skeeter woman... no, Nektar was the better choice.

"Yes, that one," Severus replied tersely with an annoyed look, inducing a subtle smile from him. It was always fun to rile up his friend.

"Of course, I did," he admitted. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, but money does get you everything, Severus." A few galleons here and there had them writing what he wanted. A person's will was weakest when faced with their inner demons - a demon called greed.

With a smug smirk, Lucius also added, "Well, that and I had blackmail material on the editor." It was pathetically easy how he obtained the material. The editor was practically fornicating in broad daylight for anyone to stumble upon in the alley.

"I should have known," murmured Severus, followed by an exasperated sigh.

"I also told them to delay the printing of the story," he revealed. "I thought you would appreciate the extra time."

"Yes, appreciation describes the exact emotion to what I was feeling," Severus said in a deadpan tone. But then the potions master slowly gave him a vindictive smirk in return. He never liked that expression when it was directed towards him. "Now, enough of that. In the mean time, why won't you assist me with some research?" Severus inquired with delight.

Lucius trailed his eyes over the voluminous stacks of books. Damn. Perhaps he shouldn't have come today.

o-O-o

Twenty minutes of silence past since Severus and his friend had spent reading through the tomes before the Malfoy lord huffed out in frustration.

"I can't take another second of this," said Lucius in a snit as he slammed the book down.

'He cracked sooner than I thought,' Severus told himself with amusement, placing his own book upon the desk.

Lucius got up and crossed his arms with agitation, resembling his son in that instance. "Only you can look at herbs and fungi all day without being bludgeon to death by boredom," Lucius declared.

Another smirk wound its way to his face. "You never did well in herbology, did you?" he asked the other wizard.

Severus remembered Narcissa telling him once when Lucius almost failed a lesson because the Malfoy lord refused to get 'filthy'. He found that story highly conceivable knowing his friend's sensibilities to dirt.

"I abstain from answering that," denied Lucius. The wizard then finished the last of the wine before speaking again, "I believe it's time I should leave now. Narcissa is expecting me back soon."

"What a shame," he commented wryly. What would he do with his time now that Lucius was leaving? He had plenty of ideas.

Lucius grabbed a handful of floo powder near the fireplace but paused in throwing it. "Wait, I just remember something," Lucius said, turning back towards him. "What have you decided to do for the birthday?"

Severus blinked questioningly at the random topic. "What birthday?"

"The birthday of the boy whom you happen to be the guardian of," Lucius drawled as he returned to sit in the chair.

His eyes widened marginally at that revelation. "Shit," he cursed out. Out of all the things to be forgetful of! Severus had been so absorbed in the research that he completely overlooked Potter's up coming birthday.

"You forgot, didn't you?" the Malfoy lord asked unnecessarily.

He glared at Lucius. Severus had also forgotten how annoying his friend could be on occasions.

o-O-o

Draco's Bedroom - July 31, 1990

Posters of quidditch teams decorated the spacious room where a Comet 260 was proudly displayed on the wall. Discarded wrappers from sweets, and empty chocolate frog boxes were amassed on the floor in an array of colours. In the center laid an immense bed with disheveled blue sheets.

Draco tossed the wizarding cards on his bed where it landed in a pile with the others. He flopped on his back, rolling to his side with a bored sigh. He had been stuck in here after breakfast when his father had sent him to his room. He was told to wait until everything was ready for the birthday party.

It wasn't much of a party in his opinion compared to his own since it would only be his family and another group attending. Father wouldn't tell him whose birthday it was, even when he asked in a very adult manner (it was not whining no matter what they said). The only thing his mother would reveal was that it was for a boy his age. But he knew it was for someone important or else his parents wouldn't have bothered setting it up.

Draco felt like it had been hours as he let out another sigh. In reality, it had probably only been an hour or two, but it felt much longer when there wasn't anything to do. He got up and started pacing around his room, completely restless now. Draco glanced at his door with narrowed eyes, demanding it to entertain him.

With no patience left, he finally decided to take a quick look around the manor. A little peek wouldn't hurt, and he would return to his room immediately before anyone noticed. Draco softly opened his door, poking his head out to insure he was alone. Once confirmed, he stealthily walked down the hallway filled with antiques and portraits of his forefathers.

Draco passed his father's study to see that it was locked, a sure sign that his father was busy with a guest in there. His mother was likely in the library, so he chose to investigate the guest sitting room first.

A few turns in the hallway lead him to the entrance of the sitting room. Draco furtively glanced around the wall, trying to detect anyone there. Apparently there was because sitting on the sofa was a boy in light robes. From what he could tell, the boy had dark, messy locks with a classic pureblood visage. He walked towards the sofa, inquisitive about this new person.

"What are you doing here?" he asked bluntly.

The boy didn't seem startled with his presence, and Draco assumed that his footsteps were probably heard by the boy.

"I'm here with Professor Snape," the boy answered, turning a little in his direction. "He said it was for a necessary event."

Professor Snape? Oh, he remembered now; the boy must be the professor's new charge. His parents kept mentioning it, but he never really paid attention beyond that. Still, why would the professor bring him here?

"Hm, you must be here for the birthday party," Draco said in realisation as he sat down next to the strange boy.

"Birthday party?" the boy asked with a tilt of the head.

"Yeah, it's for someone important," he informed. "I think it's for the son of some foreign diplomat." Well, that's the only person he could think of.

Draco soon spotted the stick next to the boy's leg that he almost overlooked. It was made of a light brown wood that had runes carved along the length of it. This was the first time he ever saw anything like it.

"What are you doing with that long stick?" Draco blurted out in curiosity.

"It's to help me walk around because I can't see," explained the boy, grabbing hold of the walking stick.

Draco scrunched his nose in confusion. "You can't see? What, are you blind or something?"

"Uh, yeah... I am," the boy said slowly.

Draco wore a dumbfounded look as he blinked twice at the honest answer. "Oh, sorry," the Malfoy heir said awkwardly. 'Way to go, Draco,' he mentally berated himself. No wonder his mother always told him to think before he speak.

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "It's okay. I'm getting use to it," the other said in acceptance.

Now that he knew, Draco took this chance to examine the boy's eyes. He noticed that they were an emerald colour with a white, cloudy appearance over it. They were really a sight to see at first glance, resembling a snow covered green field.

It was then that he became aware of something. "Wait, we haven't introduced ourselves yet," he belatedly mentioned. Summoning his father's confidence and poise when meeting someone, he said with pride, "Anyway, my name is Draco Malfoy."

The other boy gave a slight smile. "My name is Harry," the boy said, "Harry Potter."

Draco froze at the famous name, and his eyes instantly searched the boy's forehead. There, peeking behind the long fringe was the outline of the lightning bolt scar. He dropped his jaw in disbelief at the boy's real identity.

'I've been talking to the Boy-Who-Lived!' Draco realised wildly. Now that he thought about it, he should have figured it out sooner that this was Harry Potter. Didn't Blaise say something about Potter being blind? But still, his father really should have warned him about this.

Harry Potter's head turned in puzzlement at his sudden silence. "Is something wrong?"

'Say something, anything Draco!' he screamed inside his head, but the only sound that came out was, "Um..."

Never before had Draco been so glad that his father wasn't here to witness him dragging the Malfoy name down. He could just imagine his forefathers shaking their heads in disapproval at this display from the grave. But he could still salvage this situation, all he needed to do was just say something smooth and -

"Draco, it seems that you have already met Mr. Potter," his father's voice spoke from behind them, "even though I have instructed you to stay in your room."

'Bloody hell, I'm dead now,' Draco thought frantically. His heart thundered in his chest as he slowly turned around to face the two adults. "Father, Professor Snape," he inclined his head to each of them. Okay, his father didn't look angry, just irritated, and the professor actually appeared amuse, which was an expression Draco rarely saw on the man's face.

The older wizards walked around the sofa to stand in front of them. "Potter, since you are already acquainted with Draco, I would like you to meet his father, Lucius Malfoy," said Professor Snape.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Potter," his father said elegantly. The Malfoy lord gave Potter a scrutinizing look, as if searching for something. His father must have found it because the man eventually relaxed his gaze.

"Nice to meet you too, Mr. Malfoy," Potter said politely, "and thank you for inviting me here. I hope it wasn't too much trouble."

"No trouble at all," his father remarked. "Besides, what would a birthday party be without the birthday boy?"

Potter looked bewildered at that before the meaning sunk in. "You mean, the birthday party is for me?" Potter asked in wonder.

Draco glanced questioningly at the Boy-Who-Lived. The way Potter had said it was as if the other boy had never been given a birthday party before. Then again, maybe it was just him, and he was looking too much into it.

However, there was one thing he knew without a doubt - he should have stayed in his room.

o-O-o

Harry's mind was having difficulty processing how the day's events so far was real. Listening to Mrs. Malfoy play the piano for his birthday was an embarrassingly strange moment, but he still enjoyed it. Not to mention the chocolate cake was the best birthday cake he ever had. Well, the only one he ever had, but it was still the best. Afterwards, he received a small music box from the Malfoys while the professor gave him a charmed watch that could tell the time and place out loud. He was grateful for everything, but it seemed the day wasn't over for him yet.

"Potter, whatever happens, do not let go," Professor Snape ordered, "and I cannot emphasize enough on the 'do not'."

Currently, they were all outside near the stables except for Mrs. Malfoy who has remained back at the manor. Mr. Malfoy explained how the stables contained a variety of horses, and one type of horse was called an aethonan. He said the aethonan was a breed of winged horses his family has owned for centuries, and they were allowed to ride them for the occasion.

Harry was actually excited to ride the winged aethonan with Professor Snape. The professor would be sitting behind him whilst Draco would be with his father. For now, the professor was instructing him to hold onto the saddle as the man steered with the reigns.

"Do you understand?" asked Professor Snape.

"Yes, sir," Harry said as he tightened his grip. He didn't really want to let go either.

"Don't worry, Severus," Mr. Malfoy assured. "They are quite tame and are personally trained by me."

"That's what has me worried," the professor candidly replied.

Mr. Malfoy ignored that comment as he said, "Just give the reigns a slight shake and we'll be flying in no time."

Professor Snape issued out a quiet sigh and asked once more, "Are you ready, Potter?"

Harry nodded his head in reply, and he then heard the whip of the reigns before the flapping of wings signaled their lift from the ground. He felt the momentary pressure as they pushed into the air before it eased out into a smooth glide. The wind ran through his hair, ruffling it teasingly as he leaned forward, his body naturally adjusting to increase the acceleration. Harry never thought it was possible, but he loved the feeling of weightlessness and the speed as he soared in the sky. It was truly exhilarating, and the closest he ever felt to freedom.

Through out the flight, the professor held onto him tightly with one hand, and Harry had a feeling the man didn't enjoy it as much as him.

Before he knew it, Harry gradually felt them dipping to land back on the ground. Their aethonan trotted around a little bit before stilling, and Professor Snape soon dismounted.

"That's the last time I'll ever listen to Lucius," the professor murmured under his breath. "Here, Potter. Let me give you a hand."

As Harry was about to dismount, he grabbed a hold of the reigns, pulling on it slightly. That pull was apparently enough of a sign for the winged horse, and Harry suddenly felt a jolt from the aethonan as it propelled back into the air. He heard people yelling in surprise as the aethonan continued to carry him higher into the sky. Harry didn't need his sight to know that he was in trouble right then.

Harry couldn't figure how far up he was or what to do, but he had to try something. Harry pulled hard on the reigns in order to stop the winged horse, but it made the aethonan turn sharply causing his body to thrust to the side where he lost his grip on the reigns. With that one move his body twisted away, and he fell off the aethonan.

"HARRY!"

o-O-o

Severus cried the child's name out in alarm as Potter descended through the air in a speeding course similar to that of a released arrow. He felt his heart plummeting to the ground with the younger wizard in that fatal second.

His wand instantly shot to his hand while the Aresto Momentum spell was on the tip of his lips. Before Severus even had a chance to utter a syllable, a soft, green aura seemed to gradually envelop Potter, slowing down his deadly descent. Potter was still falling, but it was as if he was now just a feather drifting in the air. The aura around Potter then grew brighter as it pulsated with a power that could be felt from below, and it left a taste of intoxication that almost suffocated them.

He stood there in a shock stupor with Lucius and Draco beside him, watching in amazement at the miraculous feat of accidental magic. It was a common occurrence for a child's magic to rise up in times of need but not to this magnitude. This was on a scale beyond the ability of a mere boy. However, that was not of the highest concern for him at the moment.

The green aura dispersed in a mist of smoke as soon as Potter's feet touched the ground, and Severus ran towards the younger wizard in an anxious dash. His mind was already running through healing spells and potions required if Potter was injured in any way. He wouldn't let anything happen to the child - Potter had to be safe. Severus wouldn't forgive himself otherwise.

o-O-o

A rush of wind pressed against his face as his body tumbled through the air. At that moment, his mind could think of nothing else but the thumping of his heart as it pounded in a symphony of urgent beats. The rhythm dominated his senses, seeming to isolate every other sound out until that was the only thing that he could hear. Harry then felt a slight tingle slowly spreading across his chest and soothing him like water spilling forth in a dry riverbed. It felt so warm as it coiled itself around him in a protective grasp.

Harry felt himself getting lighter, beginning to weigh less and less, as if gravity no longer had a rule over him. Time must have moved forward faster than he realised because Harry soon felt the rough ground beneath his feet. He collapsed to his knees and hands, attempting to catch his bearings as the warmness receded. The disappearance of the weird tingle left him feeling breathless and disoriented. Before the shock could register, Harry felt hands on his arms, gripping him in support.

"Are you all right, Potter?" Professor Snape intently questioned, followed by approaching footsteps.

"Yes, sir. I'm fine, really," Harry supplied wearily, trying to stand up.

"Are you sure?" the professor asked again while the man helped him to stand on unsteady legs. The older wizard's hands remained firm on his shoulders as Harry regained his balance.

"Yes, Professor. It was just... wow." There really was no other way for him to describe what he had felt.

" 'Wow' is not the word that I would use to convey the experience," Professor Snape spoke with an edge of sarcastic exhaustion.

"Perhaps not the most suitable word, but it was indeed extraordinary," Mr. Malfoy suggested somewhere to his right.

"Yeah, that was amazing!" Draco loudly exclaimed near his other side.

"Your inside voice, Draco," Mr. Malfoy reminded with a small sigh. "None the less, we're all glad that you are unharmed, Mr. Potter."

"Unharmed, but Potter is utterly spent from the magic," stated Professor Snape. The professor's hold relinquished once he was stable enough to not topple over, but the man still stood close beside him.

"Then it will be best that I send for a mediwizard to properly check him," Mr. Malfoy offered.

"Floo call Madam Pomfrey," the professor recommended. "She should be available right now."

"Of course," said Mr. Malfoy. "Come now, Draco. Severus shall remain here with Mr. Potter as we returned to the manor."

"Yes, father," Draco replied before following the Malfoy lord.

As the footsteps hurried away, Harry tried to remember what happened as he fell. Now that he wasn't falling to his death and had time to think about it, the thing that was surrounding him felt very familiar. It was as if he knew it his whole life.

"What just happened, Professor?" Harry asked while he leaned slightly against the professor. "When I was falling, it felt like something was wrapping around me and slowing my fall."

"That was your accidental magic," Professor Snape provided. "In times of extreme distress, your magic will answer to your subconscious desire to protect you."

"My magic," Harry repeated quietly. Was that really his magic? It just felt so strong to him and so... alive. He had a hard time believing it, but at the same time, he knew it was true. As Harry pondered about it, another thought entered his mind. "Professor, I don't suppose we can do that again?" he asked. Despite the fall, riding the aethonan was still the most fun he ever had.

For some reason, Harry had the feeling that the professor was glaring at him. Maybe he should have reconsidered that question.

"Potter, you better change your priorities regarding your safety, or I'll throw you off the aethonan myself next time," Professor Snape heatedly declared.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, knowing that it was a silly question. However, he couldn't help but also asked, "Is that a 'no'?"

o-O-o

4 Privet Drive - July 31, 1989

Sweat drifted off his forehead as he scrubbed the tiles of the kitchen floor. Harry had been working most of the afternoon cleaning up the house for his aunt while she relaxed on the sofa, reading her magazines. She had some friends coming over later on, and demanded the house to beam in perfection when they arrived.

Of course when they do appear, Harry would be long gone from sight. Aunt Petunia wanted him out of the house by then, so she has allowed him to wander to the park a few blocks away. That was the only good thing from this whole messy day as he endured through the grueling labour. The park was a sanctuary from his family, and he yearned to hide in its comfort right now - especially today.

Wiping the sweat away with the back of his hand, Harry approached his aunt once the kitchen was cleaned. "I've finished all my chores, Aunt Petunia," he announced as she looked up from the magazine.

"Not quite yet," Aunt Petunia disagreed. "You still have to set the plates out on the table, or have you forgotten already, you lazy boy?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry answered obediently and turned to get the plates. He reminded himself that his aunt sometimes had the tendency to tell him things at the last minute whenever he did the cleaning or cooking.

"And don't forget to put the flowers in the vase!" she hollered from the sofa.

Correction. His aunt always told him things at the last moment.

Harry gave her a reply as he retrieved the plates from the dish rack. While his concentration was on carrying the heavy plates, Harry didn't get the chance to detect the small spot of water on the tiled floor. As he neared the table, his foot slid on the wet patch, unbalancing him for just a second. But that second was all that was needed for the plates to slip out of his hands and land on the floor with a loud crash.

He stared at the shattered pieces in horror, the white shards mocking him in its ruined state. Harry felt a rush of panic while his breathing rapidly picked up. The only thought circulating in his mind was of his uncle's red, raging face if the man ever found out. Gradually, his senses resurfaced in slow trickles, and his awareness returned to the sound of his aunt's screeching voice.

"What have you done!" Aunt Petunia angrily screamed. "My plates are all in pieces because of you!"

She was standing before him, waving her arms erratically to express her fury. Harry remembered seeing his aunt this way only once when Uncle Vernon came home after work drunk, and it was not a pretty sight. Compared to that, Aunt Petunia must be really pissed off with him now.

Harry swallowed down his nervousness and managed out an apology. "I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia, it was an accident-"

"Just get out of here!" Aunt Petunia interrupted with rancor. "You're nothing but trouble!"

Before she could say another word, Harry was already retreating to the front door as if Ripper was behind him in pursuit. Gratefully, the door closed with a noticeable click, blocking the impending rant on the other side. Harry exhaled a tired breath and decided to begin his trek through the neighborhood before his aunt could change her mind.

Harry walked past parked cars and trimmed bushes, his mind in a turmoil of castigation. He couldn't believe that he was so clumsy. How could he have dropped the plates? If only he was more careful, then everything would have been okay. Hopefully, his aunt's temper would simmer down by the time he get back. Harry momentarily closed his eyes as the wind blew over his face with comfort.

The sound of rustling leaves grabbed his attention, and all thoughts of broken dishes and his family immediately vanished as soon as he spotted the collection of trees in the park. A smile of relief climbed to his face as Harry navigated through the plant life to find his secret place. Well, his secret place was really just a small, grassy area surrounded by trees and shrubs, but it covered him enough that no one would see him.

Once there, he laid on the grass, content with watching the clouds as they floated across the sky. Harry enjoyed the serene solitude while his body uncoiled from the tension. Suddenly, a bird launched itself into the air, and it flew in fluid spirals, playfully twisting along the branches. He wondered what it would feel like to fly, so high up that nothing could ever reach him. With a shake of his head to clear such silly thoughts, Harry reluctantly got up from his position to start with a yearly tradition he created for this day.

Harry gathered a couple of rocks near the shrubs and managed to collect nine small twigs under a holly tree. He arranged the small rocks on the ground in the shape of a cake and placed the twigs as candles. Harry inspected the crudely built birthday cake with satisfaction as he knelt there in the hidden alcove of trees.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," he whispered to himself and closed his eyes to blow on the pretend candles. Harry kept his eyes closed as he wished, so he never noticed the slight green glow emitting from the tip of the twigs before dimming to normal.

TBC
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Hands and Face Behind the Voice