Chapter 2
"I simply refuse to believe that Voldemort did not once have the urge to wear a skirt. He obviously knows that the female race has great power; look at the gendre of his snake. No, Voldemort had to have once tried on a fluffy pink tutu." It was early morning and Harry was spending his first free hour with Hermione. She had exclaimed that some of the greatest and most powerful people (men generally) had urges to dress in frilly skirts. Personally, Harry thought that the potion Pomfrey had given 'Mione was a bit too strong for her small frame.
"You can't compare Hoover, a muggle, to Voldemort Hermione. Also, Voldemort wouldn't lower himself to a pink tutu; he'd never settle for anything less than a royal purple robe with disco sequence." Ron was spending the morning hiding from Lavender, the Hospital Wing was the first place Lavender had checked before going off to the common room for a second time. The blond had refused to believe that 'Won Won' did not want another go at a deep meaningful relationship.
"Well really Harry, you're not one to judge on anything having to do with fashion. If it was up to you, everyone would be dressed in only Quidditch robes and nothing else." Though she could still not see, the nausea had lessened significantly. Professor Flitwick had been kind enough to charm all of Hermione's books into brail form. Within a week Hermione had been able to recognize many of the letters. While she could still not read by touch alone, she was well on her way.
"Not everyone, I really don't think I want to see Snape in those tight Quidditch pants. I reckon Ron and I would be scarred for life. You at least wouldn't have to see it…" Suddenly Harry would have done anything stick his foot in his own mouth. He was trying not to mention Hermione's blindness, thinking it would make her miss her sight even more.
"Harry Potter, wipe that stricken look off your face. I can very well handle someone mentioning my loss of sight without breaking up into tears. I've learn to accept the fact that I won't be able to see for a while, but I have full faith in the doctors at St. Mungo's. They're very brilliant you know?"
The bell signaling the end of the day's first class rang from the topmost tower. Both turned toward the sound and Harry could have sworn he saw a flash of disappointment on Hermione's face. He felt a bit giddy thinking that Hermione wanted him here with her. But he was reminded of the fact that it was lonely in the Hospital Wing and she would probably have been happy with Malfoy in a pink tutu as company. Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey had told Hermione and her parents that by the end of the week, Hermione would be able to be released from the Hospital Wing.
Harry and Ron would be helping Hermione to her classes, but during the classes where the boys too lazy to ever be in, Dobby had volunteered to help 'Harry Potter's friend'. This only left Kreacher to watch over Draco, who had been released from the Hospital Wing a week ago.
"Off you go Harry; I don't want you to be late because of me." Hermione tried to give Harry a stern look, but he could still see the disappointment in her face. He would have skipped Transfigurations to stay with her. But then she would have hexed him into Kreacher's man-whore if he even suggested it out loud. While Hermione's sight was impaired, her magical ability was still as strong as ever.
"Alright then, I'll be back after Transfigurations with Ron. Lavender has Divinations so Ron can rest easy. If you get bored while I'm in class, you can start my DADA essay for me." Suddenly feeling courageous, Harry took hold of Hermione's small hand and gave it a squeeze. Leaning down, he brushed a small kiss over her forehead and was completely glad that Hermione could not see the deep blush on his face. Although, he was pleased to see that Hermione had quite a pretty blush on her cheeks as well.
"You wish I would write your essay Harry. Although, I should be asking you to write my report, you are the one who received an O in Defense Against the Dark Arts last year." Harry smiled as he got out of his chair, giving her hand another squeeze before he made his way toward the large doors leading to the hall. Unable to resist one last jab at his best friend, Harry turned around when he was finally at the doors.
"That was only because I copied off your homework when you weren't looking Hermione. But then I realized most of your work was wrong and I was forced to correct it myself. Oh how the mighty have fallen." Ducking out of the door before Hermione's surprisingly well aimed pillow hit him, Harry could not help but chuckle as he heard her scream from down the hall.
"Why you insufferable git! I'll bloody show you who's mighty when you return!"
Hoover was the head of the American FBI for decades. While he publicly condemned homosexuals and transvestites, he himself was found to have a male lover and a fetish for women's clothing.