DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Blind 3
Accio, Hermione decided that morning, was the most wonderful spell in the world.
Last night, after that git Malfoy had led her to the bathroom and she had locked the door with an extremely powerful warding charm, she had allowed herself a good cry for the humiliation of relying on her nemesis to 'take care' of her. Then she had spend a good ten minutes literally in the dark of her bathroom, figuring out the layout and struggling with the taken-for-granted event known as bathing.
She got going though, when she remembered that she could Accio almost anything – from soap, to shampoo, to towel, to toothbrush and toothpaste, to her hairbrush and sleepwear. Once cleaned up and feeling refreshed, she felt slightly guilty for leaving the House Elves to clean up after her; but it was a short lived feeling, quickly replaced with a feeling of gratefulness that this was yet another instance where being a blind magical witch was an advantage over being a blind muggle. Certainly, a House Elf would be able to put her bathroom to rights much quicker and with less effort using magic than a muggle housemaid, she reasoned, in an attempt to alleviate her feelings of guilt.
When she'd step out of the bathroom, Malfoy was waiting for her to lead her to her four-poster bed. Hermione had drawn the line at Malfoy literally tucking her in. She had dismissed him when she felt her leg bump the bed, and he had then left her without even a goodnight – not that Hermione cared about his lack of civility in the least.
This morning, she had woken up to the loud rapping on her bedroom door – Malfoy's version of a charming wake-up call. A spell to open the warded door later, Malfoy had escorted her once more to the bathroom. With the ferret holding her by her elbow, Hermione knew from the fresh scent of his cedar-scented shampoo that he had already readied himself to face the new day. After visiting the loo, brushing her teeth, changing into her uniform and attempting to do something to manage her hair, Hermione left the bathroom, and once more was escorted by her guide to the dining table in the common room. They would breakfast together before going for their first class since the accident: Double Transfiguration.
With little conversation, Malfoy had taken her elbow and her bookbag – despite her protests that she was blind, not invalid – and had led Hermione through the treacherous corridors and shifting staircases in the bewildering maze otherwise known as Hogwarts. Secretly, Hermione was glad that Malfoy helped her with the shifting staircases to get to the Transfiguration classroom. In her opinion, the moving staircases were the most worrying obstacle in navigating her way around the school.
Transfiguration was confusing for the blind girl. Hermione did not know what to expect. She was the only Gryffindor in a Slytherin-Ravenclaw class, and the dynamics of the lesson felt very different from her Gryffindor-Hufflepuff class. She had expected the usual camaraderie and happy distracting noises in Transfiguration class because the good-natured Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors got along very well, and mistakes in transfiguration were usually met with loud whoops of laughter and Professor McGonagall's eye rolls and tsk-tsk-ings of displeasure.
Not so for a Slytherin-Ravenclaw class.
One clear difference was that the Ravenclaws took the lesson entirely too seriously – they were more interested in the theoretical aspects of transfiguration and asked so many questions that the time for the practical was reduced to a mere forty minutes, whereas the practical portion in her Gryffindor-Hufflepuff class was usually more than an hour. Surprisingly, the Slytherins Hermione sat with were not only able to contribute to the discussions, they were working alongside the Ravenclaws relatively well – relative being the operative word – since the Slytherins were not exactly liked even amongst the studious Ravenclaws. Still, instead of happy classroom noises, Hermione could only hear a quiet hum of voices practising transfiguring the fresh flowers into glass.
After easily turning her own specimen into glass, Hermione sat down morosely. It was usually then in her own class that Ron or Neville or Susan or Ernie would ask her over to help them out with their assignments. Instinctively, Hermione knew that for the rest of the time until she regained her sight, no one would be asking her for help in Transfiguration. The Ravenclaws would never ask academic help from Hermione; House pride, after all, dictated that the Ravenclaws would strive to reclaim Hogwarts' academic accolades, which rightfully belonged to them from that usurper Gryffindor.
And the Slytherins would rather be hexed with the Cruciatus than ask a Gryffindor for help.
Thus, Hermione, for the first time in her life, felt utterly useless and bored in her class.
Thankfully, Professor McGonagall, after she had had mini-conferences with each student regarding their transfiguration during the practical, finally turned her attention to the Head Girl. Leading Hermione to the teacher's desk in order to speak to her privately, the older lady asked, "And how are you really, Hermione?"
Hermione bit her lips. She wasn't sure what to say. She was doing the best she could under the circumstance, and only time will tell if she was able to cope with her blindness. At the moment though, "Things are… fine, so far."
"Were you able to follow the lesson?"
Hermione nodded immediately in McGonagall's direction, and added, "Yes, but I've already read up to chapter 12 of the text, and we're only doing chapter 9 now... and I was able to take some notes using the dicto-quill – which reminds me, Professor, is there a spell which can enable written words to be read aloud?"
Professor McGonagall was silent for a while, and Hermione began to feel uneasy.
"Hmm… I will have to ask around and check with Professor Flitwick and the Headmaster. There isn't such a spell to my knowledge," the Professor finally replied, albeit apologetically.
Hermione sagged a little. If Professor McGonagall didn't know of such a spell, it seemed unlikely that such a spell existed. She'll just have to think of another way to get around this problem. Giving her professor an assuring smile, Hermione said cheerfully, "I'm sure I'll find another way to deal with this."
-OO-
Transfiguration was over, and Draco heaved a sigh of relief.
He didn't know what McGonagall wanted with Granger, but he noticed that after their conference, Granger seemed to droop a little. As if she hadn't been wilting all through class, he sneered.
Draco was surprised though, when Granger was able to transfigure that flower perfectly on the first try. Even he had to attempt the spell twice before ensuring that the flower's inner petals were transfigured into glass, and he was one of the better students in the highly competitive class. It was just as well, he figured, that Granger was blind; the looks the Ravenclaws threw her way would make Avada Kedavara seem mild in comparison when they saw how easily she changed the molecular structure of the flower.
Thereafter though, Granger seemed lost. What did Granger do in class when magic came so easily to her? Draco frowned. After attempting the transfiguration a few more times to perfect the technique, Draco turned to his Housemates to see if they needed help. He had to correct Vincent on his pronunciation, and he felt that Vincent was doing rather well by the time class was over.
The next lesson was Charms, and once more, Draco had to escort the Head Girl to class.
"Ready, Granger?" he drawled, "Flitwick awaits."
Granger had Accio-ed her precious bookbag to her, in order to prevent Draco from carrying it for her. Draco shrugged. So she wanted to carry her own things – Draco was not going to fight with her for her additional burdens.
They entered the Charms classroom early, and thankfully, Professor Flitwick was free. After leading Granger to their seats to deposit their bags, Draco led her to the teacher's desk to speak with the diminutive professor.
"Ah, my dear Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy, how may I help you?" the tiny professor squeaked.
Granger explained her need for a spell that could read texts aloud and Professor Flitwick was silent for a long while.
"Miss Granger, I'm sorry to say that to my knowledge, such a spell does not exist," he began, crushing hopes in Hermione's heart, "nor is it likely to exist. You must have studied magical theory, and I'm sure you must know that the spoken word is just as much part of magic as the conduit of your wand to yourself. As such, we cannot charm words to read itself – the nuances, the tones, the accents, the very essence of the semantics would be lost."
Granger's face fell, and Draco, not for the first time, felt a twinge of pity for the blind girl. "What about recording words and sounds?"
"Ah," the Professor brightened, "That we can do! Pensives, Rememberalls, Memory balls – even magical paintings! Why, there's a musical picture of a ballet somewhere on the seventh floor, if memory serves… we can certainly capture sounds onto inanimate objects, and we can certainly allow what was inanimate to be audible and given a semblance of life, but the magical basis requires us to create it… to… to put it there in the first place." The professor ended his lecture with a firm nod of his white head.
Draco saw the grim look on Granger's face, and he knew that she had accepted that there were no spells that can enable texts to be read aloud. Her next question surprised him.
"Professor, are there any books in the library charmed to read itself?" Granger's vacant eyes widened in anticipation; Draco was impressed by her quick leap of logic.
"Books charmed to read itself? Hmm… I'm sure there are a few, I'm sure. The printer and authors might have done so to entice readers to read. Certainly the children's primer readers would have charmed texts… yes, yes. Hmm… yes, yes. I think Irma Pince could help you out there, yes."
Granger's face lit up in a glow, and unbeknownst to Draco, his own lips were slightly curled up at the good fortune as well.
"But I must warn you, Ms Granger," the Professor continued, "that such books are juvenile at best, not the type of books you favour, I'm afraid. These books are usually for the very young to learn to read, although there might be a few such books for more mature readers."
Draco knew intuitively that they were headed for the library after Charms was over.
-OO-
Charms lesson came and went much like Transfiguration; only this time, it was with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Being the only Slytherin and Gryffindor in the class because of timetabling difficulty, the other students viewed Hermione and Malfoy with some misgivings.
Hermione had never experienced the hostility between the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws until that particular lesson. If the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry was bad, the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw rivalry was worse. The tension in the class was thick, and it was very obvious to even Hermione that the subtle snipes the Ravenclaws shot the Badgers were rude and demeaning, whilst the equally bristling remarks returned by the usually laid-back Hufflepuffs were just as offensive.
Caught in the crossfire, both Hermione and Malfoy remained quietly in the sidelines, making sure that they did not draw attention to themselves. Unfortunately, it was very difficult – the Hufflepuffs loathed the lone Slytherin for all his years bullying them, as much as the Ravenclaw hated the lone Gryffindor for her academic prowess. Still, the odd pair tried their best to ignore the whispered snarks, focussing on casting the complex Kitrarina charm instead.
Hermione couldn't wait until class was over before heading to the library.
-OO-
The soft murmuring calm of the library invaded Hermione's mind; the musty scent of the ancient books, the cool atmosphere surrounding her, all contributed to an aura of peace invading her senses. This was her home at Hogwarts; this was the comfort-blanket that warmed her even in her lonely first year, during the time before she cemented her friendship Harry and Ron after the Troll Incident. This was the room that gave her a buffer when her peers failed to understand her motivations, choosing to call her "Know-It-All" in snide tones. This was the place where Viktor Krum, that sweet Bulgarian Seeker, had asked her out to the Yule Ball in her fourth year, her first date. This was the place she spent her fifth year swotting for her OWLs, apart from her training in Dumbledore's Army.
The Hogwarts Library was Hermione's Sanctuary, and the library's environs were akin to a religious place of worship for the witch, who cherished wizarding knowledge like a supplicant.
Hermione's followed Malfoy's lead to where she supposed Madam Pince was.
"Madam Pince, we were wondering if you could help us," Draco spoke softly and politely into the silence.
"Mr Malfoy… Miss Granger," Madam Pince responded, looking up from some paperwork at the counter. "Miss Granger!"
Apparently, Madam Pince had not expected a visit from her most avid reader since the Potion accident.
Madam Pince moved out from her counter and fussed over the pair, making sure that the Head Girl was comfortably seated at a table before turning her eyes to the Head Boy to ask, "Now, how may I help you?"
Granger explained her need for books charmed to read themselves, but all Madam Pince could do was to shake her head with furrowed brows.
"Oh dear. Oh my. Tsk! I'm afraid… well, that is to say," Madam Pince turned to look at the mirroring frown on the Head Boy's face, "Um, I think I'll bring all those books here, and you can see for yourselves… er—" she blushed at her gaff, "—um, you know what I mean; that is, um… well, yes."
Madam Pince left the couple at the table and hurried to retrieve the books Granger requested, Malfoy staring after the uncomfortable witch. He knew that the staff at Hogwarts have been informed about Hermione's blindness, but the two of them have yet to meet with all the staff. Madam Pince's discomfort with Granger's presence left him feeling awkward, and he could sense that Granger was not only feeling confused, but disturbed by their encounter with Madam Pince. Thinking that it was wiser to leave things be for the time being, Draco rummaged through his bookbag for his Transfiguration and Charms notes to review whilst waiting for the librarian to return with the books they needed.
"What are you doing?" Granger asked quietly.
"Just going through my morning's notes," Draco replied absently.
Hermione bit her lips on Malfoy's reply.
She would have done likewise if she were in his place. Nonetheless, she was a tad angry at Malfoy's disregard of her… of my what, Hermione? My blindness?
He had no need to spare her sensibilities after all. Not that he was likely to – the git was probably upset that the potion didn't send her into a coma or something similar, which would make it so much easier for him in 'taking care' of her.
Hermione huffed and stared quietly out into space.
"Will you stop that drumming?"
Turning towards the boy's irritated voice, she just rolled her eyes and continued drumming her fingers on the table – this time taking pleasure in consciously doing it.
After what seemed to Hermione like hours, Madam Pince returned.
"Miss Granger, these are the few audible books I found in our library. They're not much, but I hope they will be useful to you." Not even waiting for Hermione's response, the librarian practically fled from the pupils' table, to Malfoy's wry observation.
"I suppose I should be thankful that there are audible books in the first place," Hermione sighed. "Well, Malfoy, what kind of books are these?"
Draco flipped through the very thin pile of readers. 'This is all they've got?' he thought, as he shook his head, frowning.
"The Tale of Two Wizards by K. Jolling. A Collection of Morality Tales by R. J. Ekhart. Seven Simple Charms for Beginning Charmers by Q. A. Lisbon." A sigh, and Draco added, "Shall I continue? There are about six of these books in all, and they are like what Flitwick says – simple readers and primers."
"There… there aren't…" Hermione hesitated, "There aren't any textbooks in there, are there?"
Looking down into Hermione's closed, defeated posture, Draco sighed quietly. "No, Granger," he said softly.
It was too much for Hermione. It was one thing for her hope in finding a means of reading to be dashed, but to find herself the object of pity from her enemy? It was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.
"I'd like to return to my room now," she whispered.
Without a word, Draco packed his belongings and hefted both his and Hermione's bag onto his shoulders. This time, the Gryffindor made no protest, not even when the Slytherin placed his hand on her elbow to lead her out of the library.
TBC.
A/N:
A few comments I received regarding the story so far, pointed out that this story isn't politically correct enough. While I understand that the topic of blindness might cause offence to readers if I had allowed certain prejudices to come to the fore, let me reiterate that I meant no offence to the blind in this story.
The terms used in this story might be harsh at places, but they are how Hermione sees her situation. Hermione has yet to come to terms with the loss of her sight, and as such, sees the loss as a handicap and something that she has to mourn and grief the loss of. It will not be a simple thing for her to overcome, not if I want to keep the story as plausible as possible. Hermione's loss of sight is devastating to her on an even larger scale, because of I believe she sees her identity as tied to her 'books and cleverness', the result of her extensive, avid reading and working hard on her school assignments. I suspect that Hermione is the sort of girl to lose herself in study to cope with difficulties, and in this obstacle she faces, the obstacle in itself is her inability to access her books.
I can promise that once Hermione learns to cope with her blindness, her strength and independence will shine through again. Do remember, at this point, her blindness is still new to her, and where she is is still a frightening place for her.