The Above

He was small, perhaps even a first year, with shoulder length dark hair pulled into a tie at the nape of his neck, and he was dressed in formal wizarding robes. He turned to face her, and Minerva gazed into glowing green eyes she couldn't pretend not to recognise. On his forehead was a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt, as if she'd had any doubts. "Harry Potter," she breathed.