Hey people! This is my second story! Yayn for me!
Any way, this is about a question I have for the genius that is J. K. Rowling.
"Hermione, I just don't understand!" exclaimed Harry for the twentieth time that morning.
"I've told you at least a million times Harry! It is—" But the young witch was interrupted, yet again.
"Technically, I've only asked you 310780 times, and I know what you are going to say, but it still doesn't make any sense! I mean, someone must have thought of something! What about those Quidditch players affected by this? Wouldn't they have thought of something! How come we have self-soaping dishcloths, but no magic spell for this?"
She let out a sigh. For the past fortnight, Harry had been asking the same question to everyone he met, including Draco Malfoy. They all either ignored him or told him that they didn't know. Hermione was his last resort, and even she wasn't sure of a response and her patience was wearing thin.
Sure, she loved her best friend like a brother, but like a real sibling, he knew how to push her buttons and how to get her to do something for him.
When he had first asked her, she was indeed curious, not as much as Harry was per say, but still genuinely curious. The wizarding world still managed to shock her, despite the fact that she had been living in it for 4 years. She found the simplest of spells fascinating, as any muggleborn would.
So obviously she too had wondered why wizards still wore glasses. She knew that there were spells for curling nose hair, and charms that could make a man talk in limericks for the rest of their life, but not one to fix one's vision. Muggles had made up solutions for such problems like eye surgery or contact lenses, so why didn't wizards have a spell for this type of thing?
When Harry had first asked her, she had been spending more time in the library than usual. Ron just thought she was working on S.P.E.W. as did all of those around her. Only Harry knew what she was truly searching for.
Finally, she had found the one book in the entire library that mentioned eye sight. It was one line in an old book that was so ancient that the title had faded away and was as far as she could tell was in a language that had died long ago. The only reason she knew it was about vision was a crudely drawn eye next to it.
In defeat, she went to Harry with the bad news. Ever since, he had been bothering her where ever she went.
"Look Harry, maybe there is a spell for this in another library that is bigger than ours, or maybe in a hospital. If you are that desperate for an answer, go ask Madam Pomfery, although, she might not let you leave if you enter the hospital wing," at this Harry frowned, but then he suddenly grinned.
Worried, Hermione asked, "Um, Harry. What exactly are you thinking of doing?"
If possible, Harry's grin grew wider, "I'll send you down! Pomfery doesn't want to tie you down to a hospital bed to check if you are in perfect health, does she? Or maybe I could go down in disguise. Or maybe I could sneak in on my firebolt, or maybe ..." Harry droned on as his companion groaned and pulled out a notepad to write down the ideas as they slowly got more and more ridiculous.
It was going to be a long month.
So that was my first Harry Potter story... Reviews and criticism are very much welcome!
Question: What is significant about the number of times Harry asked Hermione? Think of an important day in Harry's life.
Thanks for reading!
