Harry awoke with a start, covered in cold sweat, panic rising in him.

He wasn't sure why, but he knew Ron and he were no longer alone in their room.

And he was right. As he opened his eyes the first and the last thing he saw was an eerily glowing wand being pointed at his face by a dark shadowy figure.

Harry tried to scream - but before he could even open his mouth the hastily whispered spell *"Somnus!"* forced him back into deep dreamless sleep.

"Harry! What are you doing still up there? You'll be late for breakfast!"

And yet again, Harry woke with a start. Breathing hard, he looked around in confusion, then recognized Ron's voice.

"Oh, ah, I'll be down soon. I'll join you then," he finally shouted back downstairs at Ron who agreed and took off for the Great Hall.

While Harry was quickly getting dressed he went through the incident the night before.

Had everything been a dream? The wand, the dark shadow - and he'd heard the spell that had sent him back to sleep! It had seemed so real!

But if it had been real, wouldn't Harry be dead by now? What else could a person want late at night in his dorm pointing a wand at his head?

Harry shuddered as the words *adava kedavra* sneaked up on him. He didn't really want to think about this. The whole thing had been a dream. Must have been.

Harry hastened down the stairs, climbed through the portrait hole, ran along the corridors and finally slumped down between Hermione and Ron at the breakfast table.

"Morning," he greeted them shortly and hurried to fill his bowl with cornflakes and milk - the others were nearly finished. As he pushed the first spoonful in his mouth he caught Hermione staring at him.

Harry chewed and swallowed. "What's the matter, Herm?"

That got Ron's attention and he looked up from his sandwich, too.

"I thought you could hardly see anything without your glasses," Ron remarked.

"That's right. And?"

Hermione caught herself. "Well, then why are you not wearing them?"

Harry looked from one to the other. "Very funny. Haha. You've made better jokes. What do you think are these?..."

He tried to remove the item in question but there were no glasses. He clamped a hand over his eyes, just to be sure. No lenses indeed. They had to be still on his nightstand.

Ron and Herminone watched in wonder as their friend blinked and looked around in amazement.

And then suddenly Harry jumped up. "I...I don't believe it!" he shouted so loud that Neville at the other end of the table jerked and dropped his spoon to the floor.

The Great Hall quieted down and all eyes came to rest on Harry who wasn't even aware of it.

"I can see!" he shouted and laughed. The Slytherins, and even some of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, started to snigger while the Gryffindors were shifting umcomfortably on their seats, wondering what to think of Harry's outburst.

"Well, you could before, couldn't you. Sit down," Ron hissed and exchanged glances with Hermione - Harry was behaving quite strangely. Harry, on the other hand, had no idea why his friends were sitting there just staring. They should be happy with him. They didn't understand. He focused on Ron. "No, really, I can see! Clearly! Without my glasses! Isn't that fantastic?"

Ron and Hermione finally realized what was happening. Mouths hanging open they both leaned in to have a look at Harry's eyes which still were green and seemed to be no different at all.

Just then Harry started to notice the stares he got from every pair of eyes in the room. He blushed. "Um, well, fantastic, isn't it?" he said weakly to no one special and sat down slowly, face beet-red, his eyes resting on the table.

One by one the former conversations were continued and the Great Hall came back to its usual buzzing. Occasionally a glance was stolen at Harry who was quietly eating his breakfast flanked by Ron and Hermione. The two looked like they were torn between feeling joy for Harry and being worried about him. And both certainly itched to question him thoroughly and yet didn't dare to do so in the middle of hundreds of other students.

At the teachers' table Professor McGhonaghall whispered something to the headmaster who frowned but nodded in agreement.

Harry's mind was racing. How had it come to this?

Was this connected to his very real 'dream'? Was there magic involved? Of course there was, what else?

Ron and Hermione would certainly have their very own theories if he discussed it with them. And one of those would probably be true.

Harry shoved his cornflakes away and broke the silence that had spread at the now nearly empty table. He knew his two friends were practically dying to know. Actually, if he thought about it, he was, too.

"We've got some time before potions. Let's go outside, I'll tell you everything then," he suggested quietly.

"Okay," Ron and Hermione said in unison and rose.

Just then Professor McGonaghall appeared behind Harry. "Mister Potter," she said in her usual icy tone, and he faced her. "You will accompany me," the Professor stated and eyed him closely. Then she turned on her heel and strode down the hall.

Harry swallowed nervously and watched her retreating back for a moment. Was there any rule against having healthy eyes he didn't know about?

"Now, Mister Potter!" his teacher reminded him without turning round.

He glanced at Hermione and Ron, shrugged and followed Professor McGonaghall.

"Oh damn," Hermione sighed as soon as the Professor was out of hearing range. She sank back on the bench. "What do you think his punishment will be?"

Puzzled, Ron sat down beside her. "Punishment? Because of his eyes?"

"Ron, you idiot! How do you think his eyes could've gotten better all of the sudden? Hm?"

"Uh... Magic! Must've been magic. But..." Ron frowned.

"Exactly. Harry's only sixteen. And therefor he's not allowed to decide about any magical treatment on his eyes," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. "I can't believe he really did that! It's not allowed!"

Ron shot her a look. "Teeth, Herm? You remember when Madam Pomfrey let yours grow again? And straighter than before. You didn't have any objections to a little treatment then."

She turned red. "This is completely different! I had a magical accident then! I..."

"Calm down, Herm." Ron laid his hand on her arm soothingly and flashed her a smile. "I didn't mean to accuse you. I'm kind of glad you've been able to forget your stubbornness for a little while. I like your teeth the way they are now."

She managed to turn even redder - but from totally different reasons. "Thanks, Ron," she said and smiled back.

Ron realized his hand was still on her arm and he quickly withdrew it. He coughed nervously. "Anyway, I don't think Harry has planned this. He was completely surprised himself."

"And he wouldn't have put on this show before everyone's eyes. He would have kept it quiet." Hermione rubbed the bridge of her nose in thought. "Harry has grown up in muggle society. He wouldn't even know where to look for a witch or wizard who wouldn't decline illegal treatment. I know that *I'd* have no idea who to go to."

"Which leads us to another question," Ron added, "Do you know any wizard who'd be able to perform such high class magic?"

"Oh, you're right! Eyes are especially tricky! I nearly forgot that."

Ron smirked. "I'll remember this day for the rest of my life. Hermione Granger actually nearly forgot something!"

She glared at him, but continued. "There's only a fistful of wizards who can make spells on a patient's eyes work as they're supposed to. The patient could easily loose his eyesight if anything went wrong. I think I've read an article in 'The Healer' some time ago."

"Herm, is there anything you haven't read?" Ron sighed theatralically.

"There are plenty of things I haven't read about - yet," she added solemnly, and he had no doubt she was serious about this.

"Will Harry be punished now or not?"

Hermione shook her head. "I really can't guess. He'll be having a hard time explaining it. And whatever story he tells - it all depends on wether they believe him."

"Oh, fantastic..." Ron summarized and let his head bang down on the table.

"You can hurt yourself later, Ron." Hermione pulled him up. "We have to go. Potions, remember?"

"Oh no. It just keeps getting better and better," he complained but rose nontheless. "I just hope Harry has a good story to tell - if he ever joins us again."

"I'd bet on it."

"Found who?" Harry asked confused. He was sitting on a bed in the hospital wing where Madame Pomfrey was examining his eyes.

"I asked you where you've found a wizard to correct your eyesight," she repeated slightly unnerved as she blinded him with a greenish light.

Professor McGonaghall leaned in over the healer's shoulder. "So his eyes have been magically altered?"

"You see the faint red glow on the iris? It's a foolproof sign," Madame Pomfrey explained.

"But," Harry interrupted, "I didn't do a thing!"

The two women simply stared at him.

"So, you didn't do a thing?" Madame Pomfrey said. "Then let me congratulate you. Whatever you didn't do resulted in one of the finest jobs of wizardry one could ever hope to perform." She folded her arms before her chest. "I doubt I could have done this," the school's healer admitted.

The Professor straightened in surprise. "That good?"

Madame Pomfrey nodded. "Otherwise, our Harry Potter would most certainly be blind by now."

"What?" Harry shouted. "Blind?"

"You didn't know that when you hired your wizard, did you."

"How often do I have to tell you?" Harry fumed. "I didn't hire anyone! I don't know how this could happen!" he shouted and immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. He'd shouted at the two strictest persons in Hogwarts - and now the women were frowning deeply at him.

"Well, um, sorry," he weakly tried to apologize. "But you _don't_seem_to_listen_ to me!" he emphasized.

"So you are going to keep on pretending you have nothing to do with any of this?" Professor McGonagall said with a piercing stare.

Harry just nodded. He felt that anything he might have had to say would have ended up in shouting again.

"Does he need to stay here?" the Professor asked Madame Pomfrey.

"What for?" the healer remarked sarcastically. "His health is better than after any treatment I've ever given him."

The Professor staightened. "Then we will give this problem to the headmaster's capable hands. Mister Potter."

She motioned for him to follow. Harry sighed and rose. Maybe Professor Dumbledore would listen to him.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed as Harry stepped into the Gryffindors' dark and nearly empty common room. She and Ron were the only persons still awake - the others had gone to bed hours ago.

They worriedly rushed to Harry's side.

"When you didn't come back all day, we thought maybe they expelled you or something!" Ron said.

"No, I'm still with you," Harry assured them wearily and slumped down in an armchair. Hermione took a seat on the sofa opposite to him.

"So, you told them what happened?" she asked.

"No," Harry said flatly. "Because I don't know myself."

Ron frowned. "And they believed you that?"

Harry sighed. "Dumbledore did. Hardly so. I'm lucky I'm still here."

It had been one of the hardest days of his life, seeing the doubt in the headmaster's eyes while being questionend and poked and prodded by Madame Pomfrey again for hours and hours. He had told them about his 'dream', that somebody had sneaked into his dorm and done this against his will.

Dumbledore's only question had been: Why? Why should anybody cast such a healing spell on him? If the secret someone had tried to kill Harry, the boy who lived - now *that* would have been more believable.

Ron sat down beside Hermione, and Harry told them the whole story, beginning with the strange visitor late at night and ending with the neverending questioning.

"They're all really upset," Harry explained, "not only because it's a forbidden act but also because the healing magic involved is so very more progressive and precise than anything Madame Pomfrey could do."

"And they're dying to know who this super-wizard who did it is," Hermione concluded. "Because no stranger can enter Hogwarts without Dumbledore knowing, it has to be someone from here!"

"Exactly."

"But then it's proven that you haven't hired anyone! Nobody could have gotten in here. What is Dumbledore still doubting?"

Harry sighed. "Ron, he thinks that I could have asked someone to help me." And with a sideward glance to Hermione he added: "And I'm pretty sure he suspects that you are that someone, Herm."

"What?" Ron and Hermione shouted in unison.

"She would never... And Dumbledore should know that!" Ron hissed. He jumped up and paced in front of the fireplace. "How dare he?"

Hermione turned white as a sheet. "I...I don't believe it," she stuttered. "Dumbledore... He thinks that I..."

"Calm down, you two," Harry tried to soothe them. It didn't work. Harry rolled his eyes. Oh, the Weasley-temper.

"Ron, just sit down," Harry ordered finally. "And be quiet. You don't want to wake the others."

Ron did as he was told but fumed on in silence. He watched as Harry turned to Hermione and laid a hand on her arm.

"Herm, Dumbledore knows you're abiding the rules. But he also knows that we three would do anything for each other."

She looked Harry in the eyes and couldn't help but smile. "We would, wouldn't we."

"So if I was selfish enough to ask you, to beg you... you'd maybe even act against the rules. And you' ve always been really good at magic. And with a little practice in healing... That's the only sensible explanation Dumbledore can come up with."

After a thoughtful moment Hermione looked content with the that, and Ron was happy enough she seemed to feel better.

"But what is it with you?" he asked, remembering the real problem. "Will there be consequences for you, detention or something?"

Harry shook his head. "No. They have to believe me. It's my word against, well, against the circumstances. As long as they can't prove I planned this I am - as strange as it may sound - a victim... Why are you grinning, Herm?"

Her grin even broadened and her eyes glittered. "It's so unusual to see you like this, without your glasses. You look older, and even better. It suits you."

"She's right," Ron agreed and squinted his eyes as he measured Harry's face with playful seriousness. "You will have to beat the girls off with a stick. Oh, I forgot, you already have to," he said grinning. Harry just glared at him, which only led to Ron nearly falling off the sofa from laughing.

Hermione frowned at him. "Ron, stop. It's not *that* funny."

"Oh, thanks, Herm," Harry said sarcastically. "Your help really is appreciated."

"You have to admit Ron has a point," she defended herself.

Harry didn't answer to that. He knew they both were right.

A not quite comfortable silence descended on the three as they sat in the fainting glow of the fire that slowly burnt to its end.

Finally, Ron broke the silence. "No matter what *you* think, Harry, *I* am sure whoever casted this spell on you gave you a special gift, one of the kind you're unlikely to ever receive again."

Hermione, quite surprised of Ron's truly *romantic* attitude, nodded approvingly. "Just my opinion. You don't know where or who it came from? Forget about it, it's not important. Just accept the it and be happy with it."

That took a few moments to work through Harry's mind and the idea seemed quite appealing to him. "You're right," he said. "It doesn't matter." Sinking deeper into the armchair, Harry tried to believe that he'd actually be able to do so, to accept it and quit worrying.

But he still had a nagging feeling in his stomach. A feeling that it wasn't going to be this easy, that the whole thing would come back and bite his ass, when he wasn't expecting. That there was more to it than met the eye.

Whoever the wizard had been to give Harry back his eyesight, sooner or later he would come visit to collect the debt, Harry was sure of that. Every gift had its price. If the Dursleys had ever taught him something, this was it...

Harry shook himself out of those depressing thoughts. He didn't want to think anymore. Not for today. He was just bone tired. All he wanted to do was sleep. Everything else, he would sort out later.

His two friends had silently watched him think everything through and jerked as Harry suddenly stood. "Thank you, Ron, Herm. Maybe someday I'll find out what this was all about but until then I'll try and take your advice."

Ron just couldn't resist. "Personally, I'm dying to know who your secret admirer is, so if you ever find out... Ouch!" he got silenced by a poke in the ribs.

"Why is it you're seeing love affairs everywhere?" Hermione complained. "It's really getting old."

Harry smirked. "Maybe it's because he's in lack of one," he teased and caused both of his friends to blush deeply. If only they knew how obvious they both were!

Ron shot him an 'I'll get you for that!'-look and did his best to avoid Hermione's eyes who herself did her best to avoid his. Harry almost laughed out loud.

"Let's go to bed. It's late," Harry said.

The other two stood in relief, thankful for the change of topic. "Yes, let's go," they agreed in unison, looked at each other, only to immediately turn their head in the opposite direction.

Harry sighed. "Sometimes you two are really annoying me," he stated and lead the way.

Though he should probably - no, make that surely - be sleeping Harry could get no rest. One question still occupied his mind.

Who?

Who would do him such a favour? And most of all, who would be able to?

He gazed out of the window and watched the moonlight play with the few fluffy clouds that hunted each other on the night sky. And he could see them, their shadows, the stars twinkling between them. Funny thing, he thought, the closer you looked and the clearer you could see, stars always seemed to grow smaller and smaller.

Harry smiled to himself and at the man in the moon. Because he could see him. In detail. Clearly.

He reached for his glasses, his former second pair of eyes, picked them up and placed them carefully in the drawer. He wouldn't be needing them anymore.

Finally, after two hours of thinking and gazing, when the moon had long vanished behind a thick layer of clouds, Harry came to a conclusion that had been there all along but was really hard to accept. His question would stay unanswered. Maybe one day, maybe accidentally, maybe on purpose, the nightly visitor would reveal himself.

Harry would thank him then. And pay.

What gave him the peace to actually rest his mind and drift off to sleep was the fact that he could do absolutely nothing about it.