Eyes of Purest Emerald Green, Eyes From One Who Lived to Die

TWO

A million thanks to Corralle, my first reviewer! Also, a big thank you to HopeA_A, and huhutime, my second and third reviewers, respectively. Also, a newcomer, pixelgalaxy6448, my fourth reviewer, and BorkiDorp, my fifth and final reviewer.

Harry carefully turned the envelope over in his hands, flipping it silently. Emerald green words on thick yellow parchment. Who even used parchment nowadays, anyway? The magical world was so far behind the muggle one that it was laughable. Quills instead of pens or pencils. Parchment instead of paper. He didn't even know how that worked out, what with the price of parchment and the time and work required to make it, but, oh well. No technology. No phones or elevators. No GPS. No internet or WiFi. No restaurants or cities. No computers or televisions. The closest thing they had to technology was a radio, and that was honestly dumbfounding.

The magical world depended on magic for literally everything and it drove Harry bonkers. There were charms to clean and cook, spells to talk and walk, potions to heal and protect, spells to fight, wards and runes to protect, potions to tell the truth, Pensieves to remember. There was literally something for everything, and it was driving Harry bonkers. Couldn't magical people walk and talk and eat and think and remember and protect and heal and clean and cook and fight and get others to tell the truth without needing help for every bloody thing? He was going to go stark raving mad at this point. Muggles did so much better. Yes, they had their appliances, but they also lived full lives. They kept all of their memories within their brains, not in buckets. They did the vast majority of things themselves.

Sighing, Harry opened his Hogwarts letter, skimming over the contents. He carefully folded up the first sheet and tucked it back in the envelope. The first sheet was just for show and introducing the muggleborn and muggle-raised children to Hogwarts. There was nothing of importance in it.

The second sheet was what held his attention. A bittersweet smile crept over his face as he scanned it. He would have to go to Diagon Alley to get all of the supplies, seeing as he had basically nothing from the magical world.

Harry reached into his ear and hit the pause button on his earphones. The crushing silence pressed down on him, but Harry was used to it by now. It had been years, after all.

For the first time since he'd got them, Harry disconnected the earphones from the radio and pulled it out of his ear. He was graduating tomorrow, which meant that he would be giving his earphones to a first year at the end of the day.

They had arrived yesterday, scared, silent, and bruised, crushed and pressed. They were confused and hurt, wondering why the silence was so heavy, wanting to break it but afraid of what might happen. Some of them had tried to talk but their throats had seized up. Some were angry, some were sad. All of them were terrified.

Harry stood up, walking towards the door. Might as well get to his first class of the day, even if the teacher, Miss Minka, would use a ruler on him for being too early. If she was beating on him then she couldn't hurt the other fifth-graders.

Harry was the protector of the students there. He'd take any punishment he could to keep the others safe. He tried to be kind and honest, even in a place as silent as Castigo. Silence was no excuse for indifference or cruelty. It was an excuse and Harry refused to accept excuses. They were nothing.

Harry walked down the halls, his feet carrying him surely down the paths he'd been walking down as long as he could remember. He could barely remember his family, Padfoot and Moony and the Lovegoods and the people he lived with. He couldn't remember what kind of dog Padfoot's animagus form was, the colour of Moony's eyes, his sibling's middle names. He couldn't remember his father except as a looming, threatening presence that promised pain.