Author's note: 1001 Braille Books is a Harry Potter fanfiction, set after Book 7. Please read and review, and there are more chapters on the way!
Chapter One
Harry sat at the window, listening to the pounding of raindrops outside. He was grateful for the warmth of the Burrow, but couldn't help but feel a sudden coldness remembering the terrible ordeal that had taken place only a few months before. Lives had been taken, families ripped apart, best friends disabled.
Harry knew that things could have turned out much worse. He had been lucky.
Except for the fact that you died, said a quiet voice in the back of his mind.
But did I really die? Harry asked the voice in reply. This question had been nagging at him for weeks, whenever he was lying in bed, and whenever things were quiet. It didn't make sense. Dumbledore had told him he hadn't, but then again, Dumbledore was dead when he had told him this. Clarification would not come easily in response to this question.
Harry continued to ponder the answer through the silence, until it was broken by the unmistakable sound of a book being shut.
"Another one?" Ron asked.
Harry spun around in his chair. Ron was staring at Hermione in awe. Hermione turned her head to face him, her sightless eyes looking blankly ahead. Ever since Hermione had been blinded in the Battle of Hogwarts, she was no different than before, still confident, smart, and the occasional know-it-all. Quickly learning to read Braille after the battle, Hermione had been storming through all the Muggle Braille books she could get her hands on. To her great dismay, no books from the wizarding world had been published in Braille, preventing Hermione from reading anything about magic. He and Ron would occasionally read Daily Prophet articles aloud to her, but that was about it. Even though she didn't show it, Harry knew Hermione missed all of her favorite magical books, especially Hogwarts, a History.
"Yes," Hermione replied, raising an eyebrow.
"But that's the fourth book this week!"
"So?" Hermione asked.
"No one can read that fast," Ron told her.
"Ron," Hermione reasoned, a smile playing across her lips. "You know perfectly well that I'm capable of reading quickly. And besides, the American Revolution is quite interesting."
Ron rolled his eyes jokingly, "Whatever,"
"Well," said Hermione, lifting herself off the chair. "I'll go see if Mrs. Weasley needs any help with dinner,"
Hermione picked up her book and made her way to the kitchen. She knew the Burrow well enough to make her way around with no assistance, but in other, more unfamiliar places, she carried around a walking stick, and sometimes had Crookshanks help her get around.
Once Hermione was in the kitchen and out of earshot, Ron leaned to Harry and said, "I feel bad for her,"
"Yeah, I do, too." Harry replied. "I bet she's really miserable, not being able to read any magic books,"
"There has to be something we can do for her," said Ron. "Her birthday's in only a few weeks, you know,"
"But we can't just storm into Flourish and Blotts and demand all the books there to be translated to Braille,"
"Or maybe we can," said Ron, his eyes lighting up.
"What do you mean?" asked Harry.
"You know what I mean!" Ron said excitedly.
"No, Ron, I really don't." Harry concluded.
"Harry, you defeated Voldemort twice!" Exclaimed Ron, standing up. "People would do almost anything for you! Flourish and Blotts would be more than happy to get the books translated for you,"
"You really think they would do that?" asked Harry. "Just for me?"
"Of course!" Ron told him, "Just ask!"
Then his voice got exceptionally lower. "Then we can give Hermione the best birthday present ever!"
"I don't know, Ron," thought Harry unsurely.
"Oh, come on! The worst they could do is say no,"
"But,"
"Please?"
"Fine, I'll do it!" said Harry, exasperated. "I'll head down to Diagon Alley tomorrow."
"Great!" said Ron, finally starting to calm down. "Ask Ginny to come with you. I bet she would be thrilled to get in on this…"
"Boys, dinner's ready!" Mrs. Weasley was standing at the kitchen doorway, motioning her and Ron to her.
"Coming, mum," Ron said.
Harry stood up, taking one last look at the foggy window, wondering what he had just gotten himself into.
