Boredom Sets In ...
I'm bored right now. Requests or suggestions, anyone? I'm caught up on Naruto manga and don't have the willpower to make it through anime fillers at the moment. I sort of feel like writing, but I don't want to go work with the bunnies that I have in progress
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Draco smirked to himself. He didn’t see anything so special in shoddy eyesight. He had originally stolen the spectacles in hopes that they held some mystical, lifesaving, and luck-enhancing abilities of their own. Surely no one would wear these hideous and disrepaired things without such benefits. He had been fully prepared to gloat about his victory in discovering the key to Harry Potter. He had, apparently, seriously overestimated his opponent. There were no redeeming qualities in the cloudy lenses or thick, black frames.
“You look awful in those wretched specs. Do take them off, dear!” He chose to ignore the mirror. His eyes were starting to sting from the strain of focusing on his wavering image. He leaned further over the sink to stare closer at his reflection, hoping that it would bring focus...
“Fuck!” He yelled, clutching his throbbing nose and reeling backward from the offending mirror. The spectacles clattered and tinkled down to the drain.
He glanced down at them and swore again. Impossible. All it took was one knock against a mirror and a short fall to wreck the invincible eyewear? He’d seen them survive numerous curses, shoves, and punches tossed in fighting before. First hand, in the most literal of meanings. How could they break from just a little tap and tumble?
He heard a polite I’m-Sticking-My-Nose-In-Your-Business cough from behind his back and glanced upward in the mirror to see an amused pair of twinkling eyes staring back at him. His insides quickly froze and he couldn’t help but gape back at the man he had intended to kill. The man who was now safely behind a portrait frame (multiple frames, as tonight’s adventure proved) and tapping his own half-moon spectacles.
Two days later, after nearly falling down a disappearing stairway, flying into a pole during Quidditch practice, and mistaking Pansy Parkinson for Hermione (he would never hear the end of that particular mistake), Harry received a peculiar eagle owl. It delivered a small box and attached note, the writing of which he made a (still disgruntled) Hermione read to him since the small script was difficult to make out. Perhaps even more difficult to make out since Hermione had refused to tell Harry a temporary correction spell for his vision, and Ron was too afraid to step between them to be of any real help.
The note was terse and cryptic: Potter. These passed the headmistress’ inspection and will survive a mirror.
The headmistress gave a short nod after catching the eyes of the trio. They turned back to each other.
“Survive a mirror?” Hermione repeated, frowning to herself. “Is that some sort of riddle? Harry, tell me you haven’t been hiding things from us again.”
Harry blinked and turned to Ron for help. Ron just shrugged and reached for the small box, giving it a bit of a shake.
“Don’t suppose they gave you any chocolate or sweets in there?” Ron asked hopefully.
Harry grabbed the box back and opened it, revealing a pair of thin, silver-rimmed spectacles. He picked them up and placed the spectacles on his face. The world came into clearer focus.
If Harry had turned to look at the faces around him, he would’ve been taken aback to see so many interested gazes appreciating this new, sophisticated look. He didn’t turn to look at the faces around him. Harry, ever-oblivious, looked over to the Slytherin table and let out a bark of laughter.
He yelled, “Oi, it looks like someone busted Malfoy’s nose!”
Draco rubbed at his nose and muttered something that would have sounded vicious, had it not been muffled by his hand. The phrases "speccy git", "paint thinner", and "revenge" featured prominently.
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