Glasses for the Bad-Eyed
Harry's eyesight is bad - always has been, in fact. Before he started school the Dursley's never took him to any doctors. Only when his teachers repeatedly voiced their concerns about Harry being able to see clearly did they take him to get his eyes checked. The trip resulted in him being prescribed glasses which the Dursley's grudgingly bought, selecting the cheapest model in the store. After that Harry's classwork improved drastically, much to the chagrin of his aunt Petunia, who couldn't fathom the fact that he was better in school than her sweet little son. When Petunia told Vernon, the punishments that followed soon made sure Harry never let himself out-do Dudley at school again. But still, Harry learned new things and studied, even if he made sure to dumb himself down for all of his exams.
Unfortunately, it didn't take long for Dudley to break his glasses. The Dursleys, of course, didn't see a need to fix or replace them, so Harry taped the broken frame back together and after a few weeks even the slit from the broken glass did no longer distract him. When Harry received his Hogwarts acceptance letter, he was very glad to finally escape his horrible relatives. During his first transfiguration lesson Professor McGonagall frowned upon the state of his glasses. She discreetly fixed them for him and Harry saw clearly for the first time in years, no break in the glass hindering his view. But he was glad for another reason too: even if he still had his scar, at least his glasses didn't make him stand out any more than necessary.
Unfortunately glasses alone, that hadn't been adjusted in years, weren't enough. Since he had originally gotten his glasses the Dursleys haven't been to any check-up's with him, as a result Harry's eyesight slowly continued to deteriorate again after some time. In Hogwarts Harry had problems to read his school-books and follow any written instructions on blackboards. In his second year it got to a point where Harry was able to see more clearly without his glasses on than with them: so he stopped wearing them. Sure, he still had very bad eyes, but the glasses only added to his misery.
Of course people did what they always did with Harry: they stared. People started talking as to why stopped wearing them. And of course, Professor McGonagall, as his Head of House, noticed too. After their next lesson she asked him to stay after class. When all of the other students had left Harry approached her.
"You wanted to talk to me, Professor?"
"Indeed, Mr. Potter. I have noticed that you have stopped wearing your glasses and just wanted to inquire why that is?"
"Ehm... well, they just don't help anymore. I can see better without them now."
"Has your eyesight improved since you came here?"
"No, in fact I actually think it worsened, but the glasses make it even worse."
"When have your guardians last been with you to a healer to get them adjusted, Mr. Potter?"
"They never have, Professor", Harry said while looking down, his cheeks flushing in slight embarrassment, "after I got them my eyes haven't been checked again."
Minerva McGonagall was stunned.
"When did you get your glasses?"
"When I was 7 , Professor."
Silence followed Harry's statement and he suddenly wished he was anywhere but in front of his teacher, whose eyes went wide with shock as she looked at him. "So... not only did your guardians leave you with broken glasses, but also with ones that did not even help? Did they not know that wearing a wrong prescription for a prolonged amount of time can even damage one's eyes?!", McGonagall asked, looking at Harry through her own glasses.
"Well...", Harry awkwardly began, "...I guess they just didn't care. They don't like me very much and think I am a burden... And a freak. But at least I got a real bedroom this summer. That was very nice."
"But... wait a minute. What did you mean when you said 'you got your own bedroom'?! Where in Merlin's name did you sleep before then?"
"In the cupboard under the stairs, Professor", Harry said calmly while McGonagall's face lost all its color. Harry was confused.
"Excuse me, Professor, but why do you seem so confused? I thought you knew where I lived? My Hogwarts letter was a dressed to the cupboard under the stairs, so you must have known, didn't you?" Minerva was at a loss of words and had to actually sit down at the end of his sentence. Just how badly had she failed her former students' son? Her current student? It was blatantly obvious the boy in front of her was being abused. It also made sense now that he seemed to have lost weight over the summer. How could she not have noticed sooner? The signs were all there, she'd just been to blind to see them. The longer McGonagall sat in her seat with an ashen face, not saying anything, the more worried Harry became.
"Professor, are you okay?", Harry asked hesitantly, "did I do or say anything wrong?"
Finally, after what looked like it took a great effort, she spoke again:.. Mr. Potter... I owe you an apology. I should have noticed much sooner that your home-situation was as... bad... as it is. I am very sorry I failed you so. I know I cannot turn back time, but please allow me to help you now, Mr. Potter."
Harry was stunned; this was not at all what he had expected.
"It's alright, Professor," he tried to reassure her, failing terribly, "it really isn't that bad. I am used to it, really."
"And that, Mr. Potter, is exactly why this is bad. You shouldn't be used to neglect and abuse. And Mr. Potter...", she paused, her eyes glistening, "I ask you to believe me when I swear to you that I never had any knowledge of your living situation. I would have never allowed it. I am very sorry I haven't done anything sooner, but believe me when I tell you that you will never have to return to those horrible people again. I will personally make sure of it."
"Do... do you really mean that?," Harry asked, not quite believing it. No adult had ever helped him before, why would one now?
"Do... do you really mean that? That I will never have to go back?", Harry asked, not quite allowing himself to sound hopeful yet.
"Yes, Harry", Minerva said, using his first name for the first time, "I promise you will never return to them again, I will not let it happen."
"Th-Thank you, Professor!", he exclaimed, looking just as delighted as he felt. Minerva cleared her throat; Now, Mr. Potter, please go attend your next lesson. I will let Professor Flitwick know I held you up. I have many important things to do now", she said, fully intending to confront Albus about this delicate matter, the glasses-problem temporarily forgotten.
Professor McGonagall sent Harry a letter two days later, informing him that she would accompany him to an eye-healer the next morning and that all of the teachers were informed of his planned absence. She was true to her word and when everyone else was in class, Harry got his eyes checked. It didn't take long for the healer to write down the prescription for his new glasses. Most of the trip was filled with silence between the teacher and student. Nonetheless, it was a quite exciting event for Harry, who got to travel via portkey for the first time in his life. McGonagall surprised him by taking him to pick out new frames for his new glasses to find one he liked, immediately after their appointment with the healer. Harry had just assumed that he'd get a cheap model again with no input by him. He tried on various models until he found one with a rectangular shape that had rounded edges. It fit his face nicely. Again Harry was surprised for two different reasons: Firstly, when Harry wanted to pay for his new glasses, McGonagall informed him that she would pay for it, as it was her oversight that he had gone without proper glasses for so long. Secondly: Wizards and witches, it seemed, were much faster with things like producing lenses, and as such Harry
received his new glasses only 20 minutes later. On their way back to Hogwarts, as they waited for their second portkey to activate again, they had time to talk, which Professor McGonagall used to inform him of the news regarding his living arrangements.
"Mr. Potter, I have talked to the headmaster, who was responsible for overseeing your home-life, about the change of your living situation."
She did not tell him that Dumbledore had persisted that Harry needed to stay with the Dursleys at all costs because, just this once, she stood her ground and did not let him and his words convince her otherwise. The clearly stated threat of her informing the ministry of the situation finally managed to convince him.
"He and I both agree that your current situation is completely unacceptable, however Professor Dumbledore voiced concerns regarding your safety, should you be placed anywhere else."
Minerva paused, and Harry's face fell.
"And that is why I have decided that, only if you agree, of course, I will personally house you when you are not at Hogwarts. I may be old, but my house is and will be properly warded and I am more than capable of defending my house and home, should any danger arise. Of course, you would still be able to spend time at Mr. Weasley's house, as I have been informed that you did so this summer for some time. So, Mr. Potter,... do you want to follow this course of action? I do not want you to feel pressured into saying yes, it is merely an offer... What do you think?"
Harry stared at her in silent shock for a full minute. Even though he was finally able to see his Professor's face clearly for the first time ever, thanks to his new glasses, he couldn't see any trace of deception in her face, nor hear any in her tone. Could it be really true? Could she really be willing to go so far for him? He had to know, otherwise he couldn't form a decision: "Do you really mean that? This isn't a joke or misunderstanding? You're really asking me if I want to come and live with you?", Harry asked with tears in his eyes.
"Yes, Harry", Minerva replied", I really offer you to come live with me. This isn't a joke or misundersta-". McGonagall was abruptly cut off mid-sentence by Harry who had thrown himself on her, hugging her tightly and heavily sobbing into her robes, years of silent suffering being released through tears that shook her to her core. It took him a few minutes to finally calm down enough to feel embarrassed about how he'd just acted in front of his teacher. She didn't mind in the slightest.
Trying to compose himself Harry finally managed to utter: "Yes, please. I would very much like that, Professor."
Minerva had anticipated some reaction, but this situation surprised even her. Having to reign her emotions, too. she said: "Well then, now that that's decided I will take the necessary actions to make this official, and to prepare a room for you in my house."
"Please don't waste too much time or effort on that, Professor. I don't need much. A place to sleep and maybe a table will do."
"No, that will not do, Harry. You will get a room like any child should have, and no less."
"Ok, Professor", Harry replied quietly, secretly thrilled by the prospect of having a nicely furnished room just for him. Looking at her pocket watch McGonagall told Harry to grab the blue sock that served as their portkey. They still had a minute left, so she filled the ensuing silence with a question that had bugged her for days now:.. But one thing you'll still have to explain to me, Mr. Potter. How were you able to play Quidditch with eyes as bad as yours and without proper glasses?"
Harry laughed awkwardly, pushing his brand new glasses further up his nose. "Well, Professor, I'm far-sighted, so when the Snitch was far enough away I could see it okay I guess, and once I spotted it the glinting metal gave its position away while I chased it."
"Well," McGonagall said, laughing, "I am curious how you will perform now that you can actually see what you are doing clearly."
Harry, too, started to laugh, and they were still laughing together when the portkey brought them back to Hogwarts.
Two unlikely people have found each other, and would start an even more unlikely family. But nothing in Harry Potter's life had ever been normal since that fateful day so many years ago, why would his family be? Anyway, he wouldn't want to change a single thing about it.
The End