Chapter 1

Spring; the season of new beginnings, of new life, of vast changes. In its grasp the atmosphere of Scotland not to mention everywhere else seemed to morph from dreary and bitter to vibrant and sweet nearly overnight. The fields filled with the sound of infant baas of newborn lambs. The cool streams teemed with millions upon millions of fry just beginning their own dangerous journey to adulthood. Even the air seemed to hold some sort of invigorating charm that uplifted many a down on their luck spirit.

But on this particular night it was an altogether different matter.

Lightning crackled across the nocturnal sky illuminating the earth in flashes followed by heart vibrating rumbles of thunder. Heavy drops of rain came down in sheets bombarding anything and everything in its path, drenching yet nurturing the earth simultaneously.

In the midst of the chaos, an enormous Scottish manor stood proudly atop a rolling grassy hill overlooking a vast lush open field taking mother nature's wrath with ease. It appeared peaceful even under the current volatile conditions but inside just as out there was a storm raging.

This one more powerful and far more deadly.

"How can you just abandon your baby like that!? As though she were a mere piece of rubbish!" Minerva McGonagall demanded as she followed the intruder toward the door.

The younger witch whipped around, facing her pursuer and snarled. "She's nae mah baby, that thing over there isnae fit tae suckle at mah teat much less live." She spat venomously. Her rain-damp long auburn mane like spilled ink flowing down her back and alabaster skin aglow in the candlelight. "Should've bash her heid against a rock as soon as she slipped out o' mah womb instead o' takin her tae ye." She sneered over at the couch where the baby lie bundled within soft tartan blanket then began to move her wand hand in that direction only to be stopped by a bright yellow light flashing brightly slamming into the wall centimeters away from her head.

"Leave or I daresay I won't miss a second time!" The elder witch warned, her eyes flashing with anger as they bored deeply into defiant ones so much like her own. In the background a newborn awoken by the noise wailed her displeasure.

The younger witch heard the crying and snorted. "Fine you can keep th' defective lass, mibbie ye'll have better luck wi' raising a cripple than ye did me." She spat and turned back to the exit sharply causing the drenched fabric of her robes to snap with the movement and just like that she was gone. Into the night and off to Circe only knows where, leaving a seething Minerva in her wake.

After a couple of moments standing there staring at the door with her wand ready, Minerva finally lowered it then exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm her Scottish ire and frazzled nerves-which was not an easy feat to accomplish especially when there were cries piercing one's eardrums. She just a scared baby who's just been abandoned by her mother. She could not help it. Minerva scolded herself mentally. She walked over to the child, scooped her up, and held her close. "There, there, little one, 'twill be all right." Minerva tried to sooth as she swayed the distraught baby girl back and forth within her arms.

After a few moments when that didn't work she began to softly hum a wordless lullaby her mother used to when she was but a wee lass.

Hearing the soothing tune and sensing the tension in the room was all but gone the newborn's cries slowly began to wind down until finally they were nothing more than mere hiccups.

Smiling in relief, Minerva looked down and began to drank in the infant's features. A tiny sweet face flushed from crying was round and soft in that usual baby way that made people coo. Atop the head thin dark wisps of hair peaked out from beneath the blanket. She was too young and the hair to little to tell what color it was going to turn out to be. Perhaps it would be auburn like her mother's or as Minerva secretly hoped black like her own.

She moved her gaze down from the hair along the forehead and couldn't help but pause a bit when she came upon a set of murky dark orbs. They drifted to the right corners of their eye sockets not seeing but being moved nevertheless. She felt her heart melt instantly and a large lump form within her throat. In all her inner turmoil, she'd nearly forgotten about that. It was the reason why the child was abandoned in the first place.

Minerva watched as the marble-like eyes aimlessly drifted around the room. She thought about her own daughter and the monster she'd become over the years. How could someone be so heartless as to cast away their own child simply because they were not 'perfect'.

Especially one as beautiful as this little one.

"Hello, little one." Minerva greeted in a low clear voice just to mainly test what the child would do.

In the next second, she wasn't disappointed when the infant suddenly moved her head as well as her eyes towards the sound. Though the unseeing orbs did not entirely land on Minerva rather stared upward close to the woman's head she still counted it as a small victory.

"There you are, my sweet lass." She smiled reached up and gently caressed a soft round cheek. The baby, her grandchild, was nothing short of perfect in her eyes and she will always be told as such.

"Your mother is a daft fool. There's nothing wrong with you is there, little one." Minerva cooed, pulling the newborn closer to her chest. Her inner animagus purring in satisfaction when it recognized the scent of the little one as its own lineage. This cub despite the minor impairment was hers and hers alone that she believed firmly but the question was; how on earth was she going to rear a blind child? Sure she'd read upon the subject a time or two in muggle books but their methods seemed a bit well..troublesome.

Using sticks and dogs to get around may be very well fine in their world but in the Wizarding World where people were lucky to make it pass the age of twenty five it was a bit concerning. She instinctively tightened her arms protectively around the child. There had to be a way. A way to keep the child safe from it all.

Minerva was pulled out of her thoughts by a nuzzling at her chest.

Curiously, she looked down and couldn't help but to chuckle when see saw the baby rooting against her bosom. "I'm afraid you won't find anything of use there, little one." Minerva said though the infant paid her no mind and began to whimper when she couldn't find nothing to latch onto.

The elder witch let out another laugh then smiled a rare bright smile. Yes, all that can wait for now though she had bigger problems to worry about such as where the bloody hell she was going to find a wet nurse or a can of formula this time of the night?

AN: This bloody story idea has been keeping me up for weeks now I got it ironically from my mother's best girlfriend who lives in Scotland. Well it was actually her granddaughter I got it from. She was born blind and I noticed in all the videos and pictures of her how her eyes drifted and it fascinated me. On another funny note, has any of y'all ever held a breast fed baby before? They'll root around on you like little pigs. Nothing there for you little one just padding ha. So shall I continue?