A Change in Vision

(Seras POV)

The next few months passed without a hitch, outside of the extreme pain I was enduring to become the greatest wizard I could be. I had a new goal, one even farther from the norm in this world than my physical goals: to see magic. I tested a few ideas I had come up with. The first was to try and change the way the photoreceptors in my eyes worked. The idea was simple: bathe them in magical energy and try to get them to perceive magic. If it led to injury, I would repair them, just like I had done with the various muscles and organs in my body. Of course, I planned to be a lot more careful with this than with other parts of my body. Outside of the brain, which seemed to become increasingly powerful with the amount of mana within the body, my eyes were the conduit for learning more, and injuring them beyond repair was not something I wanted to deal with.

The process was painful, as every other one I set up for myself was. I'm starting to believe that I enjoy pain, which is a very slippery slope. The procedure was successful, but not in the way I had hoped. My eyesight improved by a quantifiable amount; the eagle-like eyes that my mother said I had were not as far-fetched as they once seemed. I would continue this process in the future, but only after enhancing the parts of my brain that take in my senses, store them, and draw conclusions from them. Without doing this first, I risked taking in too much information, which would lead to my mind being unable to filter and focus on specific details.

My second idea was to give myself a form of magical synesthesia. I thought about finding a way to change the magical senses that I and other wizards are born with and make them appear in my vision. However, after further consideration, I realized that I would have to completely rewire my sensory system, which was a great way to ruin my ability to perform proper magic. I was at a dead end, which led me back to the tried and true method: smash magic into it until it worked. This, of course, would be the most painful approach. I aimed to boost the processing capabilities of my occipital lobe, the part of the brain responsible for vision, through constant magical exposure, hoping it would adapt to process magic itself.

I waited a week or so before attempting it. There happened to be a marriage among Durmstrang faculty, and all the greatest ex-Death Eaters would be in attendance. If this wasn't common for parties of the sort, I would have thought it to be a trap. My father and mother were to be gone for seven days, leaving me, Dobby, and Draco. After informing Dobby of my plan, which would probably knock me out and put me in intense pain, I proceeded to lay down on my small bed in the nursery. My own room couldn't come soon enough, as Draco was currently trying to process being alone without the two attention-givers. At least he had Dobby, but that was a small consolation to the crying infant.

I started the process like I did with most things, setting up a fail-safe and slowly increasing the pain. This continued for 24 straight hours. It felt like a nail was being driven into my forehead, but with a constant supply of fluids and nutrients, combined with a mindset engrossed in the sunk cost fallacy, I progressed onwards. My eyes began to burn, and the magic in my body started to move in ways I could barely control until I passed out.

I came to two days later in a cold sweat. The first thing I did was open my eyes. I looked at Dobby and Draco and saw what appeared to be mana flowing through them. Interestingly, Dobby's mana was a completely different color. I could see the faint glow from artifacts and what I guessed to be wards and barriers far above my head. I could even make out the amount of mana in different parts of my body. Then, I threw up all over myself due to the overwhelming variety of information I was processing. I needed to strengthen other parts of my brain quickly before I ended up near death. Thankfully, I still had four days before my parents returned.

When I woke up from the fourth coma, I was finally able to process the boost I had given myself. I could see magic—something that, as far as I knew, no one else could do. Many of the most powerful players in the world could sense magic and feel its interconnectedness, but no one could perceive it as I could. The upgrades to my brain were the only reason I could still function. I had attempted to "evolve" three brain regions with varying success.

The most successful was the midbrain, which controls eye movement and visual information. I could look around without throwing up and process what I was seeing—an upgrade in every sense of the word. The next was the hippocampus. My memory felt clearer than ever, and the storage capacity had increased wildly. I had near-eidetic memory before, but now I was certain of it. I also believed I was processing information better, so my learning speed might have increased as well. The least affected was the pons. Its management of motor control seemed the same, with only marginal improvement in sensory analysis. I was done experimenting with my brain for a few years. The recent scare and pain might have finally stopped me from pushing forward recklessly.

Blaming magic for why my eyes turned from the well-known Malfoy gray to a grayish green didn't get me off the hook. In fact, it got me a one-way ticket to see Doctor Snape. While preparing the Floo Network, my mother mentioned that in the past, people's eyes had changed due to showing family abilities. This was the first time I had heard of this and would need to look into it later. I could now see the magic pools of those around me, so a power ranking began to form in my mind. Of the wizards I met, Snape was the most powerful, followed closely by my father and then my mother. There was a large gap between me and her, and an even larger gap between me and Draco.

Snape asked me questions about what happened when my eyes changed. My father reminded him that I wasn't even a year old yet and that they weren't sure what caused it. Snape stared at my father before looking back at me and asking again, "What happened?" In the closest thing to an infantile voice I could manage, I said, "Pain, and now I see magic." This shocked everyone except Draco, who was too busy staring at the vials of odd things on Snape's walls, which he called interior decoration.

Snape walked to a nearby desk, pulled out thirty-odd quills, and placed them in front of me. He asked which were magical and which were not. I simply moved the magical ones to one side and the non-magical ones to the other. With that, Snape was convinced. He asked my father what they should do. My father decided to wait to share this ability with the magical world until I was old enough to defend myself. The staunch opportunist, who would sell out any ally for a boost for himself, chose to prioritize the safety of his child over bragging rights. Lucius might be a cruel and callous man, but he truly has a soft spot for his family.

(Snape POV)

One hour after the Malfoys left, Dumbledore appeared at my door. The great white wizard, always a step ahead, had come seeking information about the wedding at Durmstrang. His quest for peace was relentless, and a mass gathering of Death Eaters was hardly conducive to his vision. As usual, Dumbledore helped himself to the candy I kept around for his visits, his eyes twinkling with that maddeningly knowing look.

He asked me how I had been doing recently, inquiring if I was ready to start the next school year as the head of Potions and Slytherin House. We exchanged pleasantries about the upcoming term and the students I would soon meet. The usual chatter, nothing unexpected.

Then, with his trademark kindness, he asked if there was anything I needed his guidance on. As much as I wanted to dismiss the question with a curt "no," I found myself taking a deep breath. "What should I do about my goddaughter, Seras?" I asked. "She is incredibly intelligent, perhaps more gifted than any wizard I've encountered. When I examined her today, it was evident that she is growing stronger at an exponential rate. In Lucius's hands, she could become another Voldemort, or worse."

Dumbledore met my gaze, his expression serious. "Ask your old friend to take his daughter as an apprentice on her birthday, she can floo powder in when you aren't teaching, this way we can keep an eye on what she is being taught. I believe with your guidance she won't go down the wrong path."

With that, he departed, already preparing for the school year ahead.

I stood there, the weight of his words sinking in. I will not let my goddaughter go down such a path. Not while there is breath in my body.