Steps echoed over the bustling of the crowd, somehow traversing over the noise of the afternoon rush. It was as if the person walking was an existence above even that of sound itself.

"Master," A voice, a mere whisper that shouldn't have even been heard amongst the crowded area, breathed against the ears of a raven-haired boy, "Take my hand."

The boy, shorter than most his age, looked up from the ground, his blank emerald eyes landing on the tall silhouette of the man who whispered. "How many years has it been? Since you've visited this place." The child asked, his voice much different than the man's. While the man had a deeper, more baritone voice, the child's was much softer and sweeter. Like resin and honey.

"Well over a millennium," The man took the child's hand, guiding him through the bodies to pass through the barrier, "I believe that last time... you had gone into seclusion after seeing them."

The boy nodded; he remembered that time. He had convinced himself that he was ready to go back, back to the very start of it all and face the scars of his past, but... he rushed himself. He didn't give himself the proper time needed to heal and exposed some of the open wounds he had mistaken for closed scars. Well, that was the future him. Or was it still considered him if he hadn't technically done that yet?

"Come along children, we've got to hurry if we don't want to miss the train!" A bustling woman sped past them, barely sparing the two males a glance, as she led a group of five children to a pillar, "Dearie me, every year it's just filled with muggles,"

Molly Weasley, the spirits whispered; and the child frowned as he thought of the last time he had seen her, she had cried on her deathbed as she realized what curse had been bestowed upon the child she had come to see as one of her own. His face still as young as the day he ended the childhood torment that chased after him almost every year. Or maybe that hasn't happened yet. It was hard to tell what were his memories and what weren't.

"Master," The man gentled tugged on his hand, pulling him through the barrier and onto a dreadfully familiar platform, "We must get you seated before you miss your train."

The boy went willingly, his steps continuing to echo amidst the noise, not that anyone bothered to notice. They went mostly unnoticed, aside from the clumsy bump of a shoulder or two, and quickly found themselves an empty compartment.

"I'm just a call away if you need me, master." Death, for that's what the being called himself, reassured him as he faded from view, "I have to take care of business now, please make sure to take care of yourself."

Ever since the being appeared after the boy had a nightmare of flying lights and red eyes, he had been beside himself with worry. The child found it strange, an adult worried about him? There had to be some type of catch, and there was. Just not the type that the boy thought there would be.

Death was waiting for his master, his true master, to come with him. Apparently, the future self of the boy was supposed to come into the past, to go on a journey of self-discovery and healing. What Death didn't expect, but probably should have, was that his master decided to change things up in the plan.

It was a shock to see images and colors for the first time. The child had been blind for as long as he could remember; so, to suddenly have memories of what people looked like, how clear water was when everyone said it was blue, and even how green the grass was in the morning dew... well, he may have ended up crying in front of Death when he first appeared.

It truly wasn't his fault though; the world was beautiful in the eyes of his future self. How future him somehow regained his eyesight, he didn't know, but he was glad he got to see glimpses of colors either way.

The boy jumped as he heard the door slide open, he was sure that it wasn't Death, the being would be more likely to just pop into existence than to open a door.

"Hello," another boy's voice greeted his ears, it sounded low, like the hum of a cicada of a summer afternoon, "All the other compartments are full, can I sit here?"

The child only nodded, not trusting his voice after meeting another child so soon after Death left. He had clung to the being like a lifeline, but even at the tender age of eleven, he knew that he had to branch out and connect with others if he wanted to survive in this new world.

"I'm Ron, Ron Weasley," The other child introduced himself.

There was a beat of silence before the boy realized that 'Ron' was speaking to him, "Oh, I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

The boy, Harry, blinked as he glanced out the window. Well, he assumed there was a window there and not just a plane of glass that the maker of the train decided to stick onto a wall. That would be weird. Then again, adults are usually weird....

"This is a window, right?" Harry pointed at the smooth glass.

"Uh... Yes?"

Harry nodded, satisfied with the answer. He had been lied to enough by adults, but rarely did another kid lie to him, outside of the usual teasing anyways.

"Do... uh," The boy, Ron, hummed and stuttered as he tried to find his words, "I mean... are you...."

The door slid open once again, causing Harry to jump... once again. Do people just have a problem with knocking? Was it him that was being weird? Was it just impolite to knock now?

"Have either of you seen a toad?" A girl's voice floated into the room, fluttering like the pages of a book, "A boy named Neville lost his, I'm afraid."

Harry heard rustling, most likely the other boy shaking his head. Then it was just quiet. He could feel their stares as the two of them looked at him, waiting for his answer.

He raised his brow, he didn't... oh. It was almost comedic how quickly he had forgotten that no one knew he was blind. "I'm blind."

The silence filled the room, awkward tension settling among the three children.

"I'll definitely tell you if I feel one, though. I don't think I'll miss that." Harry attempted to joke, just to relieve the heavy stares of the other two.

Ron snorted and the girl let out a nervous chuckle.

...

Why was it quiet again?

Harry cleared his throat, tugging at one his strands of hair as he tried to chase away the atmosphere, "Right, well, I'm Harry Potter."

Nice.

He hated it here already.

"Oh, how rude of me!" The girl almost shouted into his ear as she sat herself down next to Harry, "I'm Hermione Granger, and I've read all about y- er... Well, I thought I read all about you, but none of the books I've read mentioned anything about you being blind."

Harry blinked, turning his head toward the snickering boy, "People have written about me?" Flashes of people waving around cameras and notepads seared through his mind, the future him frowning in the memory as he waved away the reporters, "I didn't know that they wrote about new students, isn't that sort of... weird?" He winced as his head ached from the annoyance that tumbled with the recent memory.

"No, that's not..." Hermione shook her head, her curly locks brushing against Harry as she tried to find the words to explain the situation.

"You're famous!" Ron exclaimed, "Not only were your parents known for their bravery against You-Know-Who, but you are the one who killed him! The only one to survive the killing curse and defeat the most vicious dark lord to exist."

"Not only is he famous for that," Another voice joined them as the door was opened again. Seriously, what happened to knocking? "But his father was from the most ancient and noble house of Potter, richer than most old houses and known for their honorable deeds across the wizarding world."

"...Is knocking considered rude among magical people?" Harry finally worked up the nerve to ask after everyone finished their explanations, "This is the third time someone entered without knocking. I mean, it's completely fine! I'm not blaming anyone or anything like that."

"...No, it's not rude. Pardon my manners," The child cleared his throat, his voice softer than Ron's but deeper than Hermione's, a soft wind caressing the rustling leaves, "I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Harry simply sighed as everyone started to introduce themselves, or they would have if Ron hadn't laughed at Draco's name and a whole argument started. He was already starting to wish he had simply run away from the Dursley's instead of trying his luck with being a wizard. It seemed like far too much trouble to deal with... and chaotic.

"How about," Harry interrupted the heated words of the other children, "We all simply apologize and let this incident by? I'd rather not have enemies on my first day..."

Harry was ignored as the three of them started to get louder.

Death... could he just disappear now and pretend he never got on this train?

***

Harry gripped... someone's sleeve, he wasn't entirely sure who's if he was honest with himself. The other three children spread out after each of them had angered the other. Draco being mad with Ron for laughing at his name, Ron being mad at Hermione for adding on to Draco's words by pointing out a smudge of dirt on his nose, Hermione being mad at Draco for spurning muggleborns, and then it started a cycle of everyone being mad at each other. Honestly, he just wanted to fade from existence after the first hour of their arguments.

"Little firstie, if you're going to cling on to me, then you have to keep walking as well." The owner of the sleeve tugged him forward before grabbing onto his hand, his voice reminding Harry of the sound of a trombone, "We'll have to do this instead. I can lead you to Hagrid and explain, but after that I'm afraid we'll have to leave you for a while, little one."

"I know Hagrid!" Harry smiled before covering his mouth once he realized that he shouted, "Sorry, I meant, that Hagrid knows my situation. He was the one who took me to get my supplies."

It was as much of a surprise to the half-giant as it was to Harry when he showed up. The young boy was listening to Death hum a song as he made Harry something to eat, his relatives in town since Dudley wanted something or another, when Hagrid had knocked at the door.

Harry could still remember the concerned shout that the half-giant released when he realized that Harry couldn't see. It was a little funny.

"Oh, that makes things a little easier, isn't that right Forge?" The student that Harry clung to called out to another boy, "Hagrid will get you sorted out, hopefully we see you at our table."

"We'll have to kidnap him away from the clawing hands of the other houses, just look how cute he is." Forge, Harry assumed, on the other hand reminded him more of a trumpet than a trombone, but his voice was just as deep as the other's, "Fear not, Gred, I'm sure we'll be able to sneak him away somehow if he doesn't end up in Gryffindor."

"Is tha' Harry?" Hagrid's heavy accented voice called for him, Gred softly pulling him closer to the half-giant, "I was looking fer yeh, hoping ter catch yeh before we set sail. I'll have yeh sit with me, make it easier on us."

"Alright." Harry immediately agreed, grateful that he didn't have to find a spot by himself, "Thank you Gred, Forge."

"We'll make sure to say hello once in a while," Forge pat his head, "Don't be afraid to ask us for anything," Gred pulled the other away, his voice growing faint in the distance.

Weasleys, they always had a soft spot for Potters.

Harry shook his head at the thought, the voice? It wasn't something he thought of, or at least, he didn't think it was. His mind was weird after the first memory of his future came. It was like something else was there with it.

"Ev'ryone settled in?" Hagrid called, "Set forth ter Hogwarts!"

The boat swayed as a hazy memory of a castle surfaced. A place of home and misery.

What a weird thought.