An Assault on the Senses

Ron sat in the common room and considered his options. Apparently Harry and Hermione hadn't appreciated being able to hear each other all day. Ungrateful bastards. How was he supposed to know the spell would make the keyed voice sound as if it was screaming in your ear? Admittedly, screaming was not the best way to hear your beloved's voice, but the fact that they heard each other constantly should have told them something, right?

Crookshanks looked at Ron with a familiar expression of distaste. "Oh, shut up," Ron grumbled. "I'm trying to make your mistress happy. That should make you happy. Besides, Merlin knows you've always liked Harry more than me."

Crookshanks, of course, agreed with this statement, but far be it from him to actually show it to the likes of Ron. He merely blinked his eyes in that lazy, insolent way that only cats (or is it Kneazles?) possess and turned around to look for a comfortable place to nap.

Ron sighed. Well, time for a second spell, he supposed. Fortunately, the group was ready for this possibility. If the dulcet tones of each other's voices didn't convince them, perhaps seeing each other a little differently would.

Because they were in love, dammit. And Ron was going to make sure they knew it.

Yes, a spell to affect the sight (also, incidentally, borrowed from a wartime spell and adjusted for their purposes) was exactly what was in order. The more a person cared about someone, the more they trusted them and were trusted in return, the stronger the positive effect to their eyesight. Those that could be considered enemies, such as, oh, that slimy weasel Malfoy, would produce a strong negative effect.

Harry and Hermione would see the other with stars in their eyes. Literally.

Ron decided he was pretty damn near genius.

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Harry was going blind. Hermione was sure she had some sort of affliction of the eye. Why else would sparkles appear around certain people while others glowed an infernal red?

It had started in the morning, just as the problem with their ears had. Harry had blearily looked at Ron, who seemed to glow in the soft morning light. He had shrugged, thinking it was a result of a combination of not having his glasses on and the Quidditch victory party last night. However, when he put on his glasses, Harry saw that Ron was not encased in a warm glow, but that sparks seemed to be flying off him. Naturally, Harry was concerned over this turn of events. First, he attempted to smother Ron in a blanket, thinking him on fire. At Ron's rather violent reaction to this, Harry tried a few Finite Incantatum spells to end whatever magic Ron was undergoing. Strangely enough, Ron just rolled his eyes, muttered something that didn't sound at all complimentary, and pushed Harry toward the showers.

Hermione hardly had a better time of it, first thinking that dear old Crookshanks was on fire, and after having received a few scratches for her trouble, tried the same tack as Harry and uttered Finite Incantatum a few times. For the first time in his life, Crookshanks looked at Hermione with something like disdain and scorn in his yellow eyes. I can't believe you can't figure this out, he seemed to say to her. "Well, I'm sorry," she snapped, "I don't often see you with sparks coming from you. And I can't believe I'm holding a conversation with a bloody cat!" Crookshanks, of course, couldn't bear this insult and walked out of the room in snit, leaving Hermione alone and miserable, seeing tiny flashes emanate from Lavender and Parvati.

The real problem began when Harry and Hermione came downstairs in the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione was already there, eating a light breakfast when Harry walked in with Ron. When they caught sight of one another, they both shrieked in pain (Harry's was a very manly shriek, of course) and jerked their eyes from each other. Dean and Seamus looked over with no small amount of concern on their face. Ron was surprised. Draco merely smirked and made a comment so inane, this author does not see fit to record it.

"What? What's wrong?" Dean asked, scooting over to Hermione, who was bent over in pain. He glanced over at Harry who was in the same position.

Harry looked up at him, blinking rapidly, with tears streaming down his face. "I just looked at Hermione," he began in a faint voice, "and there was this light all around her. It was so--"

"Bright," Hermione finished, standing up and looking anywhere but at Harry. "I couldn't look at him. He was just encased in light." A worried frown appeared on her face. "Harry, could someone be trying to curse you? Do you think Volde--er, You-Know-Who--?"

"By making me see sparks around certain people? And making you so bright that I can't look at you? What kind of curse is that, Hermione?"

Hermione frowned again and noticed that Ron was starting to look distinctly nervous. She needed more information. "Describe what you see, Harry."

"What? Oh, alright. Well, I can't look at you because it's too bright. Ron has a ton of sparks coming from him, Dean and Seamus have a few, uh, Ginny's got some sparks, Crabbe and Goyle are, well, this is odd, red and Draco's glowing red with a few sparks."

At this last pronouncement, Ron had choked and started to cough violently. The problem of Harry and Hermione's sight was put on hold as each friend, still careful not to look at each other, tried to make sure Ron didn't die of asphyxiation. Both missed the looks of concern shared by everyone else at the Gryffindor table.

Ron managed to recover, but was so winded, Hermione suggested he go see Madame Pomfrey to see if she had anything to help revive him. Harry quickly volunteered to go with him, as he wasn't completely blinded whenever he looked at Ron. Hermione, looking to Lavender and Parvati at least, unhappy to see Harry go, agreed, but not before getting a promise from Harry to talk to her later about their mutual affliction. The boys went off to the hospital wing, leaving Hermione with a frown on her face and a mystery running about in her head.

Madame Pomfrey gave Ron a Pepper-Up Potion, which, given that he wasn't really ill, meant that he was manic for the rest of the day. Needless to say, manic plus Weasley does not a good combination make. Ron had to be restrained from knocking Draco's head off no less than six times that day; a record, even for him. The less said about his behavior in Transfiguration, the better. On the plus side, Ron actually managed to make his potion correctly that day in class, surprising Professor Snape so much that he gave Ron a detention as he was sure the boy had cheated. Ron didn't care and was currently looking in to laying in a supply of Pepper-Up Potion.

Madame Pomfrey had no suggestions for Harry, and indeed, seemed quite puzzled over his symptoms. The sparks and red glow seemed so familiar; she knew she had heard of the spell before. But the connection never came, and her attempts at Finite Incantatum met with no more success than the previous ones. There was nothing to be done, she said. If the condition continued, Harry was to see her tomorrow.

This, however, did nothing for Harry or Hermione now. They went to classes and tried to concentrate as best they could, but could hardly focus at all. Seeing flashes of light or a red glow (most of the Slytherians, oddly enough) emanating from people was not a recipe for a happy day. Harry couldn't find the Snitch among all the flashes coming from his teammates. Hermione, who couldn't do her reading without being distracted, was practically near tears. Strangely enough, to Harry and Hermione at least, so was Ron. Not being able to see one of your best friends was bad enough, the constant eye strain was merely the icing on the cake. Naturally, Harry lost it.

"THAT'S IT!" he shouted suddenly when he happened to glance at Hermione in the common room and was blinded for his trouble. "Whoever did this is a dead man. Or woman. Or living creature! Whatever, whomever did this better run when I find out who they are," he threatened.

Ron began to look nervous again. Lavender and Parvati were trying to make themselves as small as possible. A raging Harry was never a good thing. Dark Lords tended to die when that happened. That was good, of course, but as they lacked a Dark Lord at this moment, Harry might just try to take down the whole common room. Or the school.

Hermione tried to soothe Harry. "Harry, don't worry. I'm doing some research, and I think I'm on to something. We should be able to try a counterspell tomorrow."

"But I want to look at you today!"

Lavender and Parvati let out a small twitter of delight. Ron looked crossly at them before a small smile quirked on his face.

"Harry, we'll be okay. Let's just go to bed--" and here Dean and Seamus could hardly control their snickers. They were, of course, boys. As it was, it looked as if their eyes were going to pop out of their heads, "and go to sleep. We'll figure it out, I promise," Hermione said.

Harry looked quite cross, and truth be told, quite amusing as he was having this entire conversation with his eyes closed, but eventually relented and nodded. "Fine. Ron, I'm going to bed," he said, wincing slightly as he opened his eyes and looked at Ron.

Ron smiled encouragingly at him. "Right, mate. I'll be up in just a few minutes." He waved Harry on. "I just need to ask Lav something."

Harry nodded and turned toward the dorms. He and Hermione trudged up the stairs, Hermione's head on Harry's shoulder. She was still murmuring soft, comforting words to him.

Lavender and Parvati could hardly contain their squeals of delight.