Blindness

Chapter 29: The Cinnamon Cat

Walking through Diagon was never easy anymore. Disguises had to be made, in practical clothing or with magic, often both supplementing each other, to prevent outright public detection of his presence.

The incident with the diamond flowers and the children, which seemed far too long ago by Harry's reckoning, had become something of an Alley legend. As such, hopeful children and their equally hopeful parents, along with hoards of witch and wizards, took it upon themselves to keep an eye out for a green-eyed wizard carrying a staff, who might bestow on their lucky souls the same wealth at the asking.

He shouldn't have made them out of diamond. Why had he done that? Next time he would pick satin. A nice verdant shade of green…

Hermione grasped his hand tightly, her voice an excited whisper.

"I knew this would work! Not a one has recognized us!"

Harry, feeling slightly ridiculous under the unfamiliar wig, returned her excitement with a faux woman's voice. It was beyond creepy to speak like normal and hear a different voice come out.

"Oh, my dear sister, you always have the best ideas!"

Her husky laugh made his smile genuine. It had been a pretty good idea, if it prickled his male pride. Dudley would never let him hear the end of it if he found out his cousin had dressed up as a rather unattractive red-headed witch.

But no one would see the Blind Sorcerer when they looked at him in this get-up, that was for certain. He hadn't even brought his staff, though the lack made him feel naked. Hermione had replaced it with a short brown cane, its top carved like a lions roaring head.

Apparently, Kreacher had dug it out of the Black storage.

Harry absently touched his face with one hand to scratch at where a wisp of dead fiber had brushed him. Dead hair, even if it was an animals, felt kind of like wearing a corpse. On his head.

"Stop that! You'll mess up the make-up." She tugged his hand down, then giggled. "You'll mess up your make up!"

"Glad someone is enjoying herself." He grumbled. "This woman would rather not wear whatever the hell that black stuff is you slopped on my face. It's sticky."

"It's not black, it gives you a more… tannish look. Like you've actually gotten some sun."

"You don't put that crap on your face!" Harry demanded. "So why did I?"

He couldn't pick up the shadowy black liquid makeup with his sight if it was spread thinly enough, nor could he see various lotions for the same reason. The natural light of a body would shine through it. But he still would have noticed if she wore it. It smelled like chemicals.

"I do sometimes." She said firmly. "And you've never noticed. Plus, I don't need it for my disguise. I can just use a glamour without it making me blind."

He gaped at her. "I would too notice!"

"Oh look Harriet, we're here." She pulled them to a stop and her light practically beamed out of her with excitement.

The Menagerie. Harry took a stabilizing breath of the Alley air. Then he let his very excited girlfriend drag him through the doors.