Author – Chibi / Warlordess
Disclaimer – I don't own Harry Potter of the two worlds he exists in. I'm just an active pawn in JKR's plans for creative world domination. Also, I'm sorry that there was no humor whatsoever in that disclaimer; unfortunately, I'm not a very funny person for those over the age of six.
Notes – First off, I just wanna let everyone know that this fic takes place during Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. As JKR's HBP book has come out, I can tell you now that this is sort of. . . my interpretation of events for this year. Not the full year, obviously, but a bit of it "Harmony-style" nonetheless. Also, I'm sorry about Katie Bell's absence. I thought that she was in the same year as Alicia and Angelina and, therefore, hadn't thought to consider differently, so she won't be featured in this fic as I've already planned this out too far to change it now.
Also, sorry about the lateness of the chapter, but my computer broke down (again) and there was nothing I could do to fix it.
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Harry Potter – Blind
Chapter Five
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It was a strange feeling Harry had, letting go of Hermione's hand after holding it for so long during and following the Weasley argument they'd been caught in the middle of. It wasn't necessarily bad, but it did happen uncomfortably fast (or so it seemed to him). It was like Hermione had noticed the comforting warmth connected between the two of them (for he was positive that he had) and had swiftly and surely removed his grip from her arm as though it had shocked her to find it there in the first place.
Whether because Harry didn't want to make her anymore nervous – (Since when had they been nervous around each other?) – or because he didn't understand the bitter stretch of emptiness that had come to be within him the split second after she let him go, he didn't know. Yet he chose to ignore this the best that he could, even though it was obviously a difficult gesture.
Hermione, sensing his new discomfort, decided that it was the perfect time to bring up a new subject and, after thinking about to herself for something suitable, landed upon his full capability of performing the Apparition Charm they'd been studying the night before.
"Well, Harry, it's amazing that you pulled it off so well; not to mention that, if you hadn't been able to, I'd probably be getting lessons from Nearly Headless Nick about how to pull off wearing a ruff without my head sliding off of my shoulders," she laughed as though actually finding this humorous but Harry couldn't help imagining such a ghastly spectacle after all he'd seen and stared at her with slightly wide eyes.
"'Mione, that's not funny at all."
"Oh, calm down, Harry; I was only trying to thank you. And besides, things like that certainly seem funny after comparing them to our adventures at the Ministry last year." After realizing that this statement probably left her friend in a difficult to determine state of mind, she apologized and continued, "Anyway, could you show me that stunt again? Er. . ." She corrected herself, ". . .Try it again and give me a sort of play-by-play of how exactly you do it?"
Harry turned slightly red in the face, his brain momentarily addled. At the time he'd used the charm to help Hermione out of her situation, he hadn't thought of anything except getting her out of harms way. These non-thoughts included the wonder of how he could so accurately perform the spell without any mistakes, confusion, or prior practice.
"Er, a-actually Hermione. . . I don't know if I could, really; it's all so hard to remember it now. . ."
"Oh, c'mon; honestly. All we have to do is have me hold a book and you can try and transfer it over to one of the tables. And just sort of help me along in your wake."
Harry didn't know if he was being flattered by her or not, but he replied nevertheless, "I don't think that you're incapable of doing it, 'Mione. I think that you were just a bit, er, distracted last time. You don't really need me to--" He stopped speaking immediately at the look on her face.
Where just hours before she was looking both desperate and tear-borne, now she was pursing her lips and staring beadily at him as though daring him to reject her.
"I – I mean. . . Oh alright; fine," and he sighed in annoyance and got up from his seat, retrieving an anonymous schoolbook from his bag (as he didn't care so much what happened to his, but knew that, though Hermione had thought up the lesson, she'd deal him a serious blow if he started thinking of the common room fireplace alight with flames at the wrong moment and something just happened to go awry straight after), "Now remember; you asked me this. I didn't boast about it, so if something happens or - or doesn't happen, depending how you look at it, I don't wanna hear any complaints; okay?" After Hermione nodded deafly at him and stood up holding the book in her grasp, Harry stood back across the room and drew his wand, breathing deeply in preparation.
And with the according wand movement, Harry stated, "'Imotrani Lite!'" And waited to hear the 'thunk' of the book transfer from Hermione's hands and land onto the table. . . Only, it never did, "Er, sorry; but I did warn you that that might happen."
"Oh, now, c'mon; try it again, Harry. Are you sure that you were concentrating hard enough on the book and the desk over there?" Hermione pointed in the direction of the staircase leading to the boys' dormitories, under the assumption that there was the place in which the surface sat, waiting to be crippled by their object of transfer.
"Of course I was concentrating. . . !" Said Harry, insulted for some reason that she would choose to think otherwise, "Let's just give it another go," he plowed on as she opened her mouth to respond, and he continued to try the Apparition Charm again, and again, a thousand more times (the exaggeration), before finally giving up almost three hours later, "That's it; I'm done. . ." He sighed, catching his breath and taking the book from Hermione's arms to stow it inside of his bag, "Besides, it's almost dinner and I still have to decide on which three of the try-outs to accept onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team as our new chasers." He figured that Hermione wouldn't care for this information and he was right, but found that she wanted to enter her two Galleons in any case.
"Well, what makes it such a hard choice to come to?" She quipped in that businesslike tone she always used when she strained herself to be emotionally detached from a certain subject, "From what Ginny told me, that boy Allen wasn't exactly top-notch, at least in comparison to Ashley and Garret."
"Well, yea, but the only reason Ashley was so well-off on her broom was because she and Ginny have been friends for awhile now and have probably talked it over about being teammates in the games more often than not. And since Allen is Ashley's brother. . ."
". . .Now I understand. You feel that Garret, though obviously a strong asset to the team, probably wouldn't feel that associating outside of the practice sessions was a necessity. But Allen, related to Ashley. . . Well, they must already get along quite well, mustn't they? Meaning that he would get along with Ginny, adding to the simplicity of their potentially great teamwork on the pitch." It was one of her matter-of-fact assumptions that Harry always waited for.
"Er. . . Exactly."
"Well Harry, I'd honestly love to help you here, but we all know that Quidditch isn't my strong point. My advice to you, however, is that you should follow whatever your instincts are telling you. They always seem to lead you right in the end." She shrugged, knowing that her statement was immature and childish and that Harry probably already considered that to be the most creative way for him to make a decision.
"I never knew that instincts meant so much to you, 'Mione; especially over logic," he replied.
She gave him one of the softer scowls that she usually reserved for Ron and spoke again as though she hadn't heard him.
"I suppose that we should head down to the Great Hall; I'm sure that Ron's probably torn through half of the table by now, after spying on Ginny and Neville in the corridors and on the grounds all afternoon."
"Right," and he held out his hand for her and steered her out of the portrait hole and along the winding halls, towards the marble staircase leading to the entrance hall. They entered the Great Hall to a vast level of muttering (as always happened when Harry Potter walked through the doors with something interesting in his wake), and Harry said, "I don't know why we haven't learned by now to come early so that we can avoid this type of thing."
Hermione nodded, aware of what he meant, and the two wound their way past the Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff tables to their own. Harry prodded Ron in the shoulder to make him move over and give room for both him and Hermione and the redhead did so, though grudgingly, allowing the two-thirds of the trio to sit beside him.
"Ron; isn't it, er, unhealthy to gawk at your sisters relationships so much?"
"Harry, she's my little sister. If I don't watch over her, who knows what could happen? She's not exactly unpopular among the guys, you know," he admitted regretfully, "I suppose it must have something to do with the fact that she plays Quidditch. Not many attractive girls are that into sports."
Hermione seemed to twitch and she snapped her head in the direction of Ron's voice with a contemptuous expression on her face, clearly irritated.
"Oh, so according to you, any girl whose worth dating must be both visually pleasing and a sports expert. Never mind if they have a knowledgeable head on their shoulders or compassion; it's all about if their faces are clear and their noses are on-center!" She sniffed in disapproval before continuing, "You're a disgrace to people everywhere."
Ron frowned and opened his mouth to respond, but Harry gave him a look that plainly said he'd better refrain from upsetting her further. It was something to prove how lax his own hormones were that he fully agreed with her in any case that Ron was a bit close-minded about his views on girls.
"Really," Ron questioned her anyway, ignoring Harry's obvious attempts to quell the comings on of the next Ron and Hermione feud, "Well, what girl do you think I should set my sights on? You?" He scoffed in remembrance of the past three years he'd been doing that very thing.
"Of course not," she scorned him and Harry could feel the heated tension not only grow much stronger, but move about, circulating between his two best mates, "All you have to do is set your sights on someone attainable, and preferably someone who knows you and is fond of you already."
Ron blinked and sputtered, muttering something that sounded a lot like, "Impossible. . ." Then, in a clearer tone, "The only girl who knows me is you, and as we've already agreed, it's not going to happen." Even while being occupied with his supper and monitoring the row going on beside him, Harry found time to watch and listen for Hermione's verification that it was true.
"Definitely not going to happen. We'd end up hexing each other to pieces by the end of our first week together," and Harry exhaled a deep breath he hadn't even noticed he'd been holding, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, "However, and perhaps you've overlooked her, there is Luna."
Harry turned, humorously eager to see Ron's reaction at being paired up with the eccentric Ravenclaw girl. It was exactly as he'd expected it to be, to say the least. Ron's eyes went so wide that his eyebrows rose and disappeared under his hair and his jaw fell slack, making his face look as though it had expanded in horror.
Hermione, having understood this to be his expression as his silence somehow spoke volumes to her, said, "Well, she's fancied you for as long as she's known you, and it's not like she's just some rabid fan whose never spoken more than a stuttering word to you."
"You must be joking, or mad, and sure surely can't be serious. Loony Lovegood? And Me? Hermione, she's – she's. . . Not. . ."
"What? A national monument of beauty? A star Quidditch player? Only I thought that I was talking to someone trying to convince me that he wasn't as much of a sexist prat as he seemed," she took a swig of pumpkin juice to avoid his inevitable snip.
"Sexist prat!" Harry knew that Hermione had gone too far and immediately took hold of Ron's arms as he stood up in his place, glaring furiously down at her bushy head. Harry didn't know what he expected Ron to do, but there was no way he was going to let him go through with something that he'd obviously regret later on, "No, Harry, really; I wasn't going to touch her. . . If she really thinks so little of me, then it's not worth it, is it?" And Ron ripped his robes from Harry's grip and stalked off towards the doors leading into the entrance hall. Obviously thinking that Harry and Hermione would be heading back up to the Gryffindor common room after dinner, he headed towards the front doors leading to the main grounds beyond.
"You know, that was. . . More than a bit much," there was no point in fudging the truth after all. Hermione could take it.
It wasn't very surprising that her eyes were full of irate tears at her argument with Ron and how far it'd went. Her appetite gone, she waited patiently for Harry to stuff a quick plate of food down his throat and then requested that they head back to their house, but Harry couldn't help wanting to make positive that Ron was okay. And so he asked Hermione to hold on for a moment and went to ask Ginny to help hoist her upstairs while he left to check up on the other Weasley. She accepted the assignment and he managed his way outside without feeling too guilty that he'd left Hermione behind without telling her why, or where he was going, or who he was leaving her for.
The grounds were rather chilly as it was nearing November and, wishing he'd bothered to get his cloak before coming out here, he ran down the lawn towards the icy lake, silently taking a spot besides his rather sore friend. Ron continued to gaze ruefully at the body of water before him and didn't bother to acknowledge Harry's presence.
"So. . ."
"Are you going to play counselor for Hermione and me?" There was a cold grin flitting across Ron's face as he said this, "Or are you here to tell me that you thought she was right?" His tone was a dare to do so and Harry plowed onward.
"Ron, you have to admit that she had a point when she, er, told you how she saw things. . ."
". . .And considering she can't see anything at all at this point makes that remarkable, doesn't it?" Ron replied bitingly.
"You know that's a bit harsh. Hermione may gave said what she meant to say in the wrong way, but the point is that she. . . well. . . the things she said were true, weren't they?"
"How can you agree with her after what she called me? Or do you agree with her on that, too?"
"Again, none of us agrees with the way it came out, but we can't deny the truth. . . Besides Hermione, what girl have you fancied that hasn't been attractive and/or good on the Quidditch field? I mean, girls like Luna are funny, and smart (she's in Ravenclaw, isn't she?), and she already likes you; even I've noticed it. And I never knew about you and Hermione--"
"--Would you stop trying to match me up with Luna Lovegood? What is with you today? You wake up all cozy with Hermione in the common room, train the Gryffindor Quidditch Team for the first time and save her from getting her head blown off by that bludger, you don't defend me or my reasoning after Ginny and Neville come back from their snogging, and then you try to get me to flirt with Loony!" Ron's breathing was ragged after saying all this and so he didn't continue.
Harry couldn't think of anything to say at this point and so he merely sat there and stared at the depths' of the lake before him, ignoring Ron's suddenly self-conscious fidgeting although, for the life of him, wishing that he knew why Ron was acting the way he was.
"So. . . You know, now, do you?" Harry looked up to find that Ron was avoiding his gaze, "About - about how I. . . you know. . . about Hermione?" It didn't seem like he was merely asking the question so that Harry could answer, but that he felt it would relieve him of some leaden tomb that'd been sitting upon him for quite awhile.
"Er, yea. After I met up with Hermione in the common room and before you came back, we started talking and it came to joking about Neville and Ginny and the likelihood that he was trying to woo her and I didn't really get it. . . And Hermione kind of detailed about how Neville had fancied Ginny for awhile, how it was so obvious last year. It reminded me of that time in third year, Defense Against the Dark Arts, when Snape was substituting for Lupin. . ."
Ron was bright red in the face now at the thought of the memory Harry had brought back to him. Not knowing how to reply, he waited in silence for Harry to continue, which he did.
"That means," something seemed to dawn on him in that moment, "that you were jealous of me and Hermione this morning, weren't you? And that talk in the changing rooms? That thing we were talking about, how you said that you might not be able to help it? You meant. . ."
"Yea, sorry mate. I never knew why I liked her; she's always been a bit. . . mad. And it's like she said; we'd end up killing each other in no time flat. Nah, she's much better off fancying you."
Some part of Harry, a part of him that he often felt was irrational and therefore worthy of ignorance, firstly felt bristled at the turn their discussion had gone in and then somehow leapt up as though relieved.
"Er, what do you meant by that?" Harry asked rather loudly, attempting to suppress that strange uplifting emotion and the quickened beating of his heart. Ron lifted an eyebrow at him, confused by his tone, "Sorry. . ." Harry finished sheepishly.
"Right; I meant that. . . Well, you know how Hermione is with logic, and you know how she feels about a relationship with me. Thinking about it, even if she hasn't yet, she'd be most comfortable, safe, and happy if she were in love with you."
". . .Oh," was the only thing Harry could reply with, "It is just me, or have things gotten a lot more. . . affectionate. . . around here lately?" And the bespectacled boy looked around as though expecting to see pairs of students walking around the grounds holding hands or else hidden behind bushes and trees, snogging ruthlessly in the shadows that the sunsetting horizon was producing over the lawn, "Well, anyway, you don't have to worry. It's not like there's really anything going on between us, so there's nothing for you to be jealous of." Somehow that thought didn't make either boy eager to keep talking about the subject, and so Ron took the matter into his own hands.
"I suppose that we should head back inside before it gets dark, otherwise Filch will be on us as soon as we take our first step inside." The redhead stated, his tone laced with simplicity and politeness, and he reached his feet to pat himself down. Harry followed suit, hoping that, now he'd talked over his aggressiveness with someone, Ron wouldn't have to resort to biting his head off at Hermione upon entering Gryffindor Tower.
After managing their way inside the castle, up the marble stairs, along the corridors, through concealed doors, and up other anonymous staircases leading them to Gryffindor, they gave the password to the Fat Lady ("Mandrake") and entered the common room which, for such an early time, seemed to be rather empty. Considering the amount of students in the house, only about a couple dozen resided in the armchairs and around the fire, talking animatedly amongst themselves about the weekends' events.
Harry and Ron neared the table at which Ginny, Neville, and Hermione sat around. The Weasley and Longbottom couple were dodgingly plowing through a game of Exploding Snap and Hermione was petting Crookshanks with a worried expression on her face.
"ER, hello, you lot," Harry sighed, taking a seat. Ron chose to stand awkwardly beside him, not sure where he and Hermione stood with each other and not willing to apologize he was completely silent as though hoping Hermione, in her state of mind, wouldn't realize he was there, but there was no luck in it.
"Ron? Please, don't act like you're not there. . . It's not fair to think that you can take advantage of my lack of sight. . ." She was on the verge of tears again and Ron, feeling guilty, responded.
"Okay; fine, Hermione, I'm here."
"I just. . . I wanted to say that I'm sorry. Although I still think that you should open your eyes just a bit more, I know that a couple of things I said earlier at dinner were uncalled for, so I apologize."
Harry could tell that Hermione was really trying to put herself out and douse Ron's anger at her, but he didn't understand why. On almost every other account, the two of them would either stay angry and resentful at each other for a week or two, or they'd end up spending the day apart or getting a good nights' sleep, waking up the next morning, and acting as if it'd never happened. But neither had ever chosen to take the time to apologize, for neither had ever felt that they'd done a single thing wrong.
Ron, who seemed to be battling with something from within him, sputtered for a moment and then looked away as though she'd been staring scrutinizingly at him.
"Yea; I guess that I'm sorry, too."
And the two of them left it at that.
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Almost three hours later, Harry would be found in the Owlery, hoping to find Hedwig before she left on her nightly feeding stroll. A quickly scrawled note was clutched in the boys hand and he sighed as he tied it to his owls' leg, resigned to the pointed truth. With a quick affectionate nip, Hedwig soared out of the window, her course of flight curved against the stone of the castle.
Harry stared blankly after her, his thoughts on the events that had taken place earlier, after Ron and Hermione's apologies to one another.
Ron had had to leave for Prefect duties ("Now that you're incapacitated, I've got to patrol two floors!"), Ginny and Neville had decided to move a bit closer to the fire as the air grew chilly around them, and Hermione had been left to ask (or demand) that Harry help her with Ancient Runes. And so he'd pulled out her book from the aforementioned class and opened up to the page she'd already bookmarked ahead of time.
It took twenty mispronunciations, ten questions on Hermione's part, and ninety minutes wasted time before Ginny came over and told them both that she was turning in early since the next day was Monday, meaning that they all had to be up rather early for their classes.
Hermione, sniffing slightly at the thought of getting absolutely no studying done that day, accepted her schoolbag from him after he'd replaced her book and bid him goodnight before allowing Ginny to help her slowly upstairs. It took two seconds for him to find a spare piece of parchment and decidedly begin to write a short letter explaining his hopelessness in assisting Hermione in her studies and then, because he knew what disarray she'd probably be in up in her dormitory at that very moment, he'd headed immediately to the Owlery, being careful to avoid Slytherin Prefects, Filch, and Mrs. Norris.
And now he stood staring out of the window his friend had just flown from, feeling slightly dim as to his own behavior. He could see the black jet smoke being emitted from Hagrid's cabin and allowed his thoughts to wander to those of how Hagrid was doing with Grawp, and Madam Maxime.
Blinking and feeling suddenly exhausted, Harry yawned widely and stepped across the room to the doorway and down the stairs with slight caution, aware of any sounds around him. The evening was actually very calm for once, which he supposed had something to do with the fact that he wasn't feeling guilty or uncomfortable after just having snooped around the corridors after dark, searching for something about someone to wonder about.
But then, his thoughts mulling over even now so relentlessly, how could he still have been feeling so confused these past few days. And though he was bewildered, he could only conclude that not all mysteries he would spend his life being involved in would be products of strangers.
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Breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning would have been very uneventful had it not been for a couple of surprises that nearly blew Harry's mind.
First, there was Hermione, who'd become almost resigned to her condition so well that she didn't notice anything was different until Harry, who'd reached out to pour some porridge into her bowl, had started in realization that she'd begun doing it herself.
"Hermione!" His shout of surprise almost sent the bowl and ladle she was holding flying into the air, "Did you - you know that you just poured that on your own, right?"
"Oh, my; you're right, Harry!" Her tone was utterly delighted at the thought of the sights she was finally enabled again and she took no time in ducking under the table and retrieving an anonymous book from her bag. Her face disappeared for a few moments as her eyes scanned rapidly over the pages before her, but when she pulled back and revealed herself in full form, it was with an expression of distraught written so firmly that no one would be able to mistake it for anything else.
"Er, something wrong?" Harry and Ron asked her in unison.
"This is terrible! Everything is so fuzzy! In fact, the only things I can use to differentiate between one object and another are the outlines of those objects! It's like I'm constantly squinting!" She growled in fury, ". . .And I still can't read anything!" This seemed to be the proclamation that she'd been working her way up to.
". . .Sorry about that," Harry told her distractedly, for Hedwig had just landed in front of him with a piece of parchment tied to her leg, which he hurriedly removed, untied, and read, "On the other hand, you shouldn't have to worry about falling any farther behind in your studying four months ahead of every subject." There was something satisfying in the way he said this and Ron immediately leant in to read the note he'd just gotten over his shoulder.
"And what do you mean by that?" Her brow was furrowed in that McGonnagall-like way that the two boys had grown so accustomed to over the past few years.
"Well, I've set you up with a. . . How do I put this? A. . . 'special needs tutor'. She'll be meeting you in the library tomorrow evening, six o'clock, to discuss and study the class lessons that I'm not good at helping you with. Potions, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes for a few."
By the simplicity of her expression, Hermione seemed to be torn between pride in Harry's wit at doing such a thing for her, and agitation and pain at being dumped so easily into someone else's lap.
Harry felt almost instantly guilty at how he'd broached the subject but felt that, alongside that thought that there wasn't much he could do to prevent the study sessions from happening, the fruits produced would be so obviously worth the labor.
"Well, c'mon now; who is it?" Hermione asked in a brisk tone, turning back to her bowl though not exactly feeling very ravenous, and taking a bite of her breakfast before glancing back at Harry, "You can't want to keep it a secret from me; you might as well tell me now."
Someone cleared their throat from behind the trio, as though to introduce herself, and they swiveled partly in their seats, craning their necks to see whoever stood behind them, but Harry already knew who it was.
"Er, Hermione Granger, meet Cho Chang," he said stiffly to help that uncomfortably silence along, "Cho, Hermione; but I believe that you already know each other?"
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Notes - WooT! Sorry for the extended wait on this chapter! A million things have happened since my last update, such as my mom coming home from the hospital, seeing my younger brother for the first time in almost two months, the 6th Harry Potter book coming out, which I was so disappointed in. . . I really was, and also that interview JKR did afterwards. Well, whatever. My opinion hasn't changed, as is evident in this chapter. I still feel that Harry and Hermione are not only the best for each other, but they just make the most sense, don't they?
Okay, moving on. Reviews would be happily received, my friends. Please click that annoying lil' button at the bottom of the page and tell me what you thought of the chapter!
Special Note to Readers - Okay, alongside all of the issues stated above, I'm going to add that my mom is to go back to the hospital for a huge surgical procedure, and that I might be getting my first job, so I have no idea when the next chapter's going to come out. Please stay tuned, though, in any case.
