Chapter 2

Having barely eaten since he left Hogwarts over a week ago, he knew he was hungry but couldn't eat more than a few bites before losing his appetite. The nurse didn't seem to care though, and she made it quite clear that he had to eat the entire plate. After a good bit of arguing, Harry finally thought he won when she left the room with the food. Unfortunately, he learned better a minute later when she came back with a large bubbling green potion and a stern look on her face.

Harry felt the glass being placed on his lips and mentally winced as the taste burned in his mouth. He gulped it as quickly as he could, trying to force the lumpy liquid down his throat. Foul. That was the only word he could think of to describe the potion. With all the power of magic, why couldn't they make a single potion that didn't make you want to vomit?

The nurse took the vial away and released the spell that held his head in place, offering Harry a mug of water. He scowled at the nurse for a moment but accepted the mug and quickly downed the water, hoping to get rid of the aftertaste.

"I've raised two children, and I've been a nurse for nearly thirty years Mr. Potter,” she said, offering him a smile. “While I understand and empathize with being cranky when you feel sick, I will not allow it to interfere with your healing. Your body needs food to get better. If you won't eat from the plate, I'll be forced to feed you with potions."

Harry nodded grudgingly to the nurse. Part of him felt guilty for being so rude to someone who was just trying to help. Another part was impressed that she actually bound him just to make him drink the potion.

"Good, now try and get some rest. The healers will be in to see you in the morning."

Harry woke the next morning to two voices talking. One he thought might be the Healer he met last night, but he recognized the other voice immediately.

"Madam Pomfrey! Err, what are you doing here?"

"Years of your reckless behavior has led you to quite a few stays under my care, Mr. Potter. I was asked here by Healer Pestia as a consultant."

"While you slept last night, we conducted a more thorough magical examination, and we were concerned with a few of the results,” Healer Pestia said, gesturing to an open folder in his hand. “Because Poppy has treated you several times in the past, I asked for her opinion. She's assured us that the results were completely normal for you and saw no reason for complications in repairing your eyesight."

"We were just discussing if it would be more beneficial to wait a few days for you to become healthier before repairing your sight, when you woke."

"Oh," Harry said quietly. While strict, the woman always took great care while patching him up at school, and he was quite glad that she was here. "Well, would it be better?" he asked after a moment.

"After reviewing the results of my colleague's examinations,, I do not believe it would affect the procedure either way, Madam Pomfrey answered. However, knowing your impatience as I do, I recommended they make arrangements for the procedure today.”

Harry smiled sheepishly at her as she and Healer Pestia began speaking with each other again. He looked around the room and found that Hedwig had somehow known he was in London and had arrived during the night. Motioning for her to come over, he started petting her softly, enjoying the company of his friend and companion.

A hand touching his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. Harry looked up to see that Madam Pomfrey had left, and Healer Pestia was next to the bed.

"I did not mean to startle you, Mr. Potter, but I need to speak to you for a few minutes.”

“I have made the arrangements for the operation to occur this evening. We do, however, require your guardian's permission before the operation can occur. I am most distressed to mention this, but we must also discuss payment for our services. I have spoken to my superiors, and they agreed to offer you a considerable discount. However, the procedure to repair your vision will not be cheap even with such a discount."

Harry hadn't even considered the cost! The happiness that he'd had since finding out that he could get rid of his glasses and that his future memories were real evaporated. He knew the Dursleys would rather see him die than pay for his eyes to be fixed. If it wasn't for the nurse at his primary school asking questions about his care, he knew they'd never have taken him to get glasses.

Sighing to himself, Harry was just about to thank the Healer for his help and tell him not to bother when he remembered his vault. "I have a key!" Harry blurted out.

At the Healer's questioning look, Harry continued, "The Dursleys won't pay for anything like this for me, especially not if it's expensive. And they'd never go some place magical to help me, even if it was free. My parents left me a vault in Gringotts though. I've never used it for anything but my school supplies - well, and some candy on the Hogwarts Express, but never anything else. I'm not sure exactly how much I have, but I'm pretty sure it should be enough."

The Healer's frown deepened as Harry continued talking, not liking where his thoughts were leading about Mr. Potter's relatives. "I will have our staff check with Gringotts about your account. Unfortunately, we will still require your legal guardian's permission before we can perform the operation."

Harry thought for a minute and then grinned as he looked at his owl. "Could Hedwig deliver the paper work to them? That way, they wouldn't have to come here."

"It is not normally done in such a way. However, I believe an exception can be made in this case. It will require the director's approval though."

Less than an hour later, a nurse came by with a couple pieces of parchment for Hedwig to deliver to his relatives. Since Harry couldn't read without his glasses, he asked if the nurse could mark where the Dursleys should sign, since they were Muggles and wouldn't understand about magic. The nurse was much younger than the one he had last night and spent a moment staring at his scar before, thankfully, agreeing and marking where they'd need to sign.

He had no intention of actually having Hedwig deliver them and asked for a quill, ink, and parchment. It took a good bit of discipline not to roll his eyes as he explained that he needed to write his relatives a note letting them know he was all right and what was happening here. The nurse was more than happy to help 'The Harry Potter' and was back within moments with them. The moment the nurse left again he began forging his uncle's signature, making a mental reminder to thank Dean for thinking of forging his signature last year when he didn't sign his Hogsmeade forms.

Harry completed signing the documents and gave them to Hedwig with instructions to fly around for a few hours before returning. He knew the signature would never pass for Uncle Vernon's, but he doubted anyone at St. Mungo's would know. Even if someone did eventually check, it'd be too late. The operation was scheduled for later today, and after that it wouldn't matter.--------------

Harry felt sore, tired, and disoriented as he woke up the next morning. Looking around he sighed, white. Always white. Why did hospitals have to be so white?

It was a moment later when he reached over towards the end table for his glasses that the realization hit him. He could see everything perfectly clearly, and he didn't have his glasses on!

He was forced to stay in bed while the healers tested his eyes several times. Once they finished, he ate a late breakfast, and they let him go. He flooed to Diagon Alley and went to Gringotts in order to transfer the 300 galleons ($2,200, £1,500) to St. Mungo's. Afterwards, Harry went down to his vault and was surprised to see that he still had a good amount of money left.

While the 300 Galleons took a large chunk out, Harry figured he still had a little less than three quarters of what he started with. As long as he didn't spend that much at one time, he'd be fine until he graduated. Now that he knew the memories were real, he'd have to become a lot better wizard than he currently was. He decided to take some money out to shop in Diagon Alley.

The first place Harry needed to go was Ollivander's. The old man was strange, there was little doubt about that, but he had hinted that Harry would be great one day. Could Ollivander somehow see the future?

Harry didn't know, but the man seemed fixated on greatness when Harry talked with him years ago, and he had even pointed out how Voldemort did great things. Yes, maybe Ollivander could help him become a great wizard.

Harry suppressed a shudder as he thought of the Sorting Hat's words. It, too, predicted that he could be great. Should Harry have let the hat put him in Slytherin?

No! There was no way Harry could accept that being in Slytherin and being buddies with Malfoy could ever be a good thing. He didn't want to be great. The hat had tried to tempt him, but Harry hadn't wanted it then, and he still didn't now. He needed to become great to save his friends-the friends he made because he was in Gryffindor.

Harry was so engrossed in his internal debate he hadn't even noticed that he had already arrived at Ollivander's. When he finally did notice his surroundings, Ollivander was standing less than a foot away, gazing at him.

"Harry Potter."

The way Ollivander said his named gave Harry a chill. It was not a simple question or a statement. By speaking just his name, Ollivander seemed to put dozens of meanings into the words.

"Your wand is fine, is it not?"

"Err. Yes, my wand is quite fine," Harry answered nervously.

"A powerful wand, yes. You do not have it with you. No, no, that is not wise. Always carry your wand. It chose you for a reason, Mr. Potter. Respect that, and it will not fail you," Ollivander said, still staring right at him.

Harry wasn't sure how Mr. Ollivander knew he didn't have his wand. He hadn't even realized that he'd left it in his school trunk until just now.

"It's sort of why I'm here. My wand. Well, why my wand selected me." Harry stopped a moment to get himself under control and tried again. "When I was first here, you said I'd be great. The sorting hat tried to tempt me with greatness, and I chose against it. But now I need to become a great wizard."

"Greatness is meant for you, Mr. Potter. It will find you no matter what choices you make. You have changed since I saw you last. That was to be expected, a little early perhaps, but expected, yes. Much you still have left to change, though. What is it you want of me?"

Harry wasn't sure. He really didn't have a plan and hadn't thought things would go like this; offhand there was only one thing he could think of. "Is there a way I can use my wand without getting in trouble?"

"Yes, but no. No, I will not do this for you. It would permanently hurt your wand, and I will not take part in such a thing."

Harry wasn't sure what exactly happened but Ollivander's stare seemed to change somehow, as if he was staring right through Harry and into his very soul. "What is it you want Mr. Potter?"

"Memories." It was out of Harry's mouth before he could stop himself.

Apparently this answer startled Mr. Ollivander because his stare faltered.

"Memories of my classes,” Harry said quickly as he tried to correct his mistake. “Is there a way I can relive all my classes so I can learn more? I didn't try very hard before, but this year I learned the Patrons Charm from Professor Lupin, and I managed it. I know I can do better in all my other classes if I try."

"Lupin, you say. Remus Lupin. Yes, I remember him well. Ten inches exact. Willow and Dragon's Heartstring-quite pliable. An unusual combination, but it makes for a good all around wand. Few strengths, but no weaknesses," Ollivander said, fixing Harry with his stare again. "He taught you the Patronus Charm, you say?"

"Err, yes. They came onto the field during Quidditch, and I… I'm affected by them and fell. Professor Dumbledore barely managed to stop me in time. I needed to make sure it wouldn't happen again, and Professor Lupin agreed to teach me."

"Interesting, very interesting. You succeeded?"

"Yes, it's a stag."

Ollivander's eyes widened. "You formed a corporeal Patronus, Mr. Potter?"

"Corporeal?"

"Your Patronus has a distinctive shape and remains in that shape the whole time?"

"Yes sir."

"Most impressive, Mr. Potter. Things are happening while you are young, too young. But perhaps..." Ollivander's smile turned into a grin, "Yes, perhaps."

"Perhaps what?"

Ollivander's stare returned, and if anything Harry felt it was even more powerful than before. He felt as if the stare was holding him in place, like he couldn't move even if he tried. "You will be great, Mr. Potter. It is sooner than was meant, but yes, I will assist you."

"There are many ways to assist you with your memories. For you, I would suggest a Pensieve. It is a runic tool that allows you to watch memories, but this is not the reason I suggest the Pensieve. In a Pensieve, it is possible to enter the memory completely, leaving the physical world behind. Do you see, Mr. Potter?"

Ollivander understood Harry's blank look and continued explaining. "No, I see you do not. That is understandable. When you are inside a memory, you are physically brought into the memory. As such, you are not susceptible to the means in which the Ministry uses to detect magic."

Now Harry understood. Not only could he use this thing to help him watch new memories, but he'd be able to practice magic as well!

"Yes, yes. Now you understand. But for now, you must leave. I do not have a Pensieve here.”

“Come back early this evening at five. Yes, five would be perfect. I must close. I now have much to do! Much to do indeed!"

The old man seemed to come to life as he was talking. His eyes lit up, his face split into a smile, and his movements became more active. It almost seemed like the old man became a child before his very eyes.

Harry left the dusty shop smiling. He'd found something that would let him watch his memories, hopefully helping him figure out what they mean and a way to use magic as well!

The next stop for Harry was Flourish and Blotts. If there was any student in Hogwarts he was actually scared of, he knew who it would be. Hermione. Even now, after finishing his third year, he doubted he knew as many spells as she did at the end of her first. He knew he'd never become like her. She loved to read books in the same way he loved to fly. It was their passion.

But Harry also knew he could do better if he wanted to. Perhaps it was because he never had friends before, but having fun with Ron always seemed more important than grades.

'But it's not about grades anymore,' he thought to himself. 'It's about Ron and Hermione. About Sirius, Professor Lupin, and Professor Dumbledore, and all the others he saw die in his memories. Even more than that, it's about Voldemort and about me.'

Once in Flourish and Blotts, Harry didn't know which books he should buy. He found some interesting spells as he skimmed through a few of the books, but he didn't have any real idea if they would be helpful or not. He'd have to ask Ollivander about them later. For now ,he just walked around the store and picked out a few books that caught his interest. All the salespeople were quite busy, and it took him nearly thirty minutes to pay for his sales. Harry still didn't understand why so many foreigners were in Diagon Alley, or why The Leaky Cauldron and The Three Broomsticks were both full.

He went to Quality Quidditch Supplies next, needing to waste time until he was supposed to meet Mr. Ollivander, and ran into Angelina Johnson and Lee Jordan. Surprisingly, Lee noticed nearly immediately that he wasn't wearing glasses anymore, and Harry gave them a short version of how it happened while they browsed through the store. During their chat, Harry found out why so many visitors at Diagon Alley: The Quidditch World Cup. The World Cup was so popular that some people were arriving two months early and making a full vacation of the event.

After saying goodbye to Angelina and Lee, Harry walked around Diagon Alley for a while, making sure to thank Madam Malkin and Tom for their help. By that time, he was starting to feel tired again, and Tom let him use the back room to rest. When he woke up again he realized it was already six. He had missed his appointment with Mr. Ollivander!

Harry got up quickly to head the wand maker's shop, but Tom stopped him on his way out. Ollivander had come by while he was sleeping and left a box for him.

He didn't want to return to the Dursleys, but he knew he had to. The Leaky Cauldron didn't have any open rooms, and Harry felt bad for the inconvenience he already caused Tom.