Everlasting Night

Harry opened his eyes.

He opened them and looked around the room, trying to take in his surroundings. He saw nothing. He yelped. "What the--" Suddenly he remembered. "My glasses! Where are my glasses?"

The doctor sighed. "I'll get you your glasses, and I'll untie you. We had you braced because you were having all these awful fits. Shaking and screaming and--oh wait. I wasn't supposed to say anything. Hold on." Harry felt his arms being unbound, and then the man got up and left the room. "I'll be back in a minute."

Harry held his hand up in front of his face and saw nothing. It was merely the same inky blackness he had woken up with. He turned his hand over, stretched it out, made a fist, felt his fingers with his other hand, and still, nothing. He felt frustration and confusion welling up inside of him, and he slammed in hand down. Not knowing what was around him, his fist shot into one of the rails on his bed, and his whole arm began to throb.

There was the sound of rushing footsteps. "I heard a crash. What happened?" It was the old doctor again. Harry didn't even know his name.

"I..I.." Harry faltered, not wanting to look foolish. His face grew hot, and he knew he was flushed with embarrassment.

"No matter." The doctor let out a sigh again. "It's probably not important, I won't worry about it. Here are you glasses." He dropped them into Harry's hand. Harry was glad for their familiar shape and feel. He held them out in front of him, opened them slowly, with trembling fingers, and slid them on his face, eyes squinted shut, waiting for the sudden surprise of perfect vision.

It never happened.

"What's wrong with my glasses?" Harry wailed. He didn't mean to cause such a scene, but this was insane.

The doctor took in a sharp breath and let it out slowly, through his teeth. "There's nothing wrong. Your glasses are perfectly fine."

"Do you mean to tell me..."

"I'm sorry Harry Potter, but you are blind, and there is nothing that can be done to remedy that."

It was silent for a few moments as Harry took it all in. Then he began to feel faint. "Y-you mean to tell me..it's not..temporary?" He managed to squeak before he sunk back onto the pillows behind him. He felt hot tears pricking the backs of his eyes. His useless eyes.

The doctor took Harry's hand and patted it awkwardly. The doctor's hand was like old paper, crisp wrinkly and thin. But it was strong and warm. If Harry had ever had a grandfather, his hand probably would have felt the same way. It was comforting, for some reason, having his hand held by the stranger, because it told him he wasn't completely alone in the blackness. "Yes. If my..erm.." He cleared his throat, "If my theory is correct, then I'm afraid you will experience permanent loss of vision ."

"Theory?" Harry's interest was piqued. He was still miserable of course, but, maybe if he listened to this theory, he might find a loophole in it somewhere.

"Well." The doctor began shuffling papers, "I went over you and your family's medical records, both magical and muggle, and I discovered something. You wear glasses."

Harry, in the state he was in, wasn't really in the mood to hear someone state the obvious. Trying to remain calm, he said through clenched teeth. "Yes. I know. I wore glasses, and my father wore glasses. So what?"
"Do you know why your father wore glasses?"

"He was probably near-sighted, like I am. It's probably some family thing."

"Well, you're right on one of those points. He was near-sighted, but it's not 'some family thing'. Your father was hit by a bludger when he was playing Quidditch. Vision problems in your family are not hereditary. And also..because of the..ehrm..frugality of your uncle, vision tests were not something you had often. But I noticed that you had the same vision from ages one to ten. Then, once you began going to Hogwarts, you vision became worse and worse every summer. All except for your third year, of course."

Harry shook his head slowly. "What do you mean?"

"It means that the only times your vision was altered was after you defeated Voldemort."

Harry's mouth made a perfect "o". "So..you're saying..I killed him, so, I lost all my sight?"

"You're bound to him, remember?" The doctor lifted Harry's hand and placed it on his forehead.

At that exact moment, there was a commotion in the hallway outside Harry's room.

"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO CONTACT ME THE MOMENT HE WOKE UP! THE MOMENT! NOT A FEW SECONDS AFTER THE MOMENT, BUT, THE MOMENT!"

The voice was unmistakable. With a rustle of fabrics, an exasperated "hmph" and an air of authority, Molly Weasley entered the room.