Blinded By Love

by d-dreamer

During a freak accident in Potion's Class, Hermione becomes blind, leaving Ron to tend to her. But being blind is tough, and not knowing how to express your feelings is even tougher. Very dramayangsty Please RR!

2. Part 2

PART TWO:

"Ron," Hermione leaned her head on Ron's shoulder.

"Yeah."

"I'm ready."

"For what?" He asked, hardly daring to believe his ears.

Hermione whispered something in Ron's ear that made him turn pink.

"Hermione, are you serious?"

She nodded. Ron took hold of Hermione's hand and dragged her out of the common room and through several corridors. "Ron, where are you taking me."

"You'll see."

"Ron, you dolt, I'm blind."

"Oh, I forgot. Sorry." They turned on last corner. "We're here."

"Where are we?"

"Well, we need to walk back and fourth three times before we find out, won't we."

"The Room of Requirements?"

"Yeah."

The portrait swung open to reveal... Nothing. It was simply a room of darkness.

"What's in here?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"Nothing, I wished I could be blind, too."

"Oh Ron, I love you."

"Where the hell have you two been?" Harry asked, smirking.

"He's smirking, isn't he?" Hermione asked Ron.

"Yeah, he is."

"Very funny. Now where have you been?"

"That is none of your business, is it." Hermione said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Ron, I'm going to go to bed, okay?"

"Yeah, do you want me to lead you to the stairs?"

"No, I think it'll be okay." Harry and Ron watched her disappear up the stairs.

"So..." Harry said, smiling.

"We didn't do anything, if that's what you're thinking."

"Sure you didn't."

"We didn't." He said stubbornly.

The next day...

"Ron, I don't feel that good."

"Of course you don't, your blind Hermione."

"I'm not an idiot, Ron. I just don't feel right..."

"Maybe you should go see Madame Pomphry." Ron suggested. "I'll take you there."

"I think that would be a good idea."

Hermione found Ron's arm and grabbed it. Ron lead her out through the portrait hall, down some stairs and through some halls.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasly, which one of you needs my assistance?" Madame Pomphry asked.

"I do." Hermione said. "I'm not feeling right."

"Well then, I can do a check-up if Mr. Weasly would care to leave. I'll take Ms. Granger back up to the common room when she's done." Ron nodded and left

An hour later:

"Ron, I'm pregnant." Hermione glared at Ron. (A/N: Don't you love unexpected twistes?)

"WHAT!" Ron stood up quickly.

"I knew it!" Harry shouted in an I-knew-it tone. "You liar."

They were sitting in the common room on their favorite chairs by the fireplace. Ron was reading more Shakespear, before this shocking news. Now, the book lay forgotten on the floor. Harry was doing homework, he had more then any other student in the school. But all that had changed. Harry thought it was bound to happen, but never said anything. He never realized what it would mean in real life; an even grumpier Hermione. Ron on the other hand was stunned.

"Hermione... Hermione... Are you sure?" Ron asked.

"Of course I'm sure," Hermione snapped. "Wizards have easy ways to check these things."

"Oh." Ron was still in shock. "Um... This is awkward."

"I wish I new were you were so I could hurt you." Hermione said.

Harry stood up, grabbed Hermione's hand and placed it on Ron's arm. "There you go, Ron's right their."

"Thanks Harry." But instead of hurting Ron, she hugged him and started crying into his chest. Just had she had done upon hearing that she was blind. "Ron, I don't want to be pregnant. I want things to go back to the way they were. My parents are going to kill me."

"It's all right. We'll work through this together, and in no time, it will be over."

"You mean for eighteen years?"

"Well, you never know, it might be nice." Ron said, trying very hard to cheer her up. In reality, he was freaking out. He didn't want a kid.

"It's not going to be nice! It's going to be horrible. Ron, we're sixteen, I'm blind, and we're going to have a baby to look after. I don't even know if I can look after it, seeing as I can't see." She continued to cry a steady curtain of tears. Many people looked over to see what was going on. Harry had to shoo them off. "I'll never be able to look at my baby, and tell it how grown up it looks. Never, never."

"Maybe they'll find a cure." Ron said, trying desperately to raise her spirits. "Maybe--"

But he was interrupted by Professor McGonagall entering the room. "Ms. Granger. My office, Weasley, we have no assistance for you, I can lead her there myself." For Ron had made to hold Hermione's hand.

McGonagall lead Hermione to her office in silence. When they were safe inside her office, and after offering Hermione a biscuit, the Professor said in a deadly whisper. "Hermione Jane Granger, what the hell do you think you were doing?" Hermione seemed a bit taken aback for McGonagall had strongly reminded her of her mother.

"I love him." Hermione said simply.

"And how do you know he loves you? Has it ever occurred to you that he could of been taking advantage of you?"

"Ron would never take advantage of me." She said angrily. "He stopped me from killing myself, Professor. I asked him if he wanted to, because I loved him that much."

"I see." McGonagall pulled out a piece of parchment out of her desk. "I shall be writing to both your parent's, of course."

"Yeah, I know."

"Of course, once the baby is born, someone's going to have to take care of it."

"Yeah, I know."

"I think Mrs. Weasley would be delighted, after she kills Ron." Hermione smiled at this.

"Is that all, Professor?"

"Yes, I think so." She lead Hermione back to the common room.

The next morning dawned. Hermione had spent the last night curled up in Ron's arms, crying. Ron had comforted her by reading her Hogwarts, A History, saying that their kid would be a prefect and definitely Head Boy or Girl. Telling her all the things that they would go through, that he or she would share with them. Though, in his mind, voices were screaming. Himself as a parent. Now that's a scary thought. And even scarier. If it was a girl, a minerature Hermione with Weasley hair. A boy; a frizzy haired, mini-Ron.

Anyway, it was morning when it happened. A red envelope arrived carried by a tired looking Pigeon, fell on the table in front of Ron.

"Bloody birds a menace." Ron said taking the envelope from him.

"What is it this time, Ron?" Hermione asked, her eyes still red from the tears.

"Mom sent a howler. Why did Professor McGonagall have to write to Mum?" He said, resigning to open the letter.

"YOU DISGRACED THE FAMILY! DON'T YOU KNOW ABOUT PROTECTION? DAD'S GOING HALF CRAZY, AND THE TWINS THINK THIS IS ONE BIG LAUGH. I HOPE YOU GET DETENTION, TO DO SUCH A THING TO A SWEET, WELL MANNERED GIRL. HONESTLY RON! YOU ARE SO GROUNDED ALL SUMMER. AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN USE PROTECTION..." The letter shriveled up.

Everyone turned to stare at the couple. They all knew that Hermione was pregnant.

"Granger, I hope you can still knit a baby-blanket, your babies daddy can't afford a new one." Draco Malfoy had walked up to Hermione and started massaging her shoulders. "But if you were with me..."

Ron turned around and punched Draco square in his face, but not before saying; "Leave my girlfriend alone, you bastard"

Professors McGonagall and Snape came trampling over to the unconscience Draco and the extremely mad Ron.

"I will not have this, Weasley. What on earth did he do this time?"

"He insulted my family and hit on Hermione."

Snape pulled Draco to his feet, and poured some water over his face in an attempt to wake him up. It worked. "What happened?" Snape asked Draco.

"I told Hermione how nice her knitting was, congratulated her on the new baby, and told her that she was looking quite fit today. And then Weasley punched me out, Sir." Malfoy said in a near nice voice.

"Liar!" Ron yelled. The whole Great Hall was staring at the scene.

"He hit on me." Hermione said quietly. "Ron was just trying to protect me." There was a mix collective intake of breath, and several 'awwwwws,' from the surrounding students. Tears were running down Hermione's face now(A/N: When are they never not?) "Please don't punish him, Professor."

"Fifty points from Slytherin and Griffindor." Said Professor McGonagall. "And Weasley, detention for a week."

Ron didn't complain. "Okay." He said.

The week went on. Hermione found herself day dreaming more and more about a little baby that she would be able to hold in her arms. A tiny princess that she could teach to be the best witch ever to pass

through Hogwarts, other than herself, of course. Ron was disgruntled with his detentions, and the prospect of being a father. Everyday it seemed they had received letters. The first one was from Fred and George;

Dear Ickle-Ronniekins,

We heard from are dear mother that you pulled your first Weasley. Yes, it's in our blood; we can't help being so... attractive. Of course, we're confused because Hermione can't see you. Then again, perhaps that's better.

We just wanted to owl you to express our joy and if you need any help, don't ask us because we're busy with new joke food... You wouldn't want your baby to turn into something strange. I mean... stranger than it already is.

Love

Fred&George

Another was from Mrs. Grangers.

Dear Hermione,

I'm so ashamed of you. Just because your blind doesn't mean you can let people take advantage of you. We are so disappointed. Well, at least I am. Your dad hopes it's a boy, but I don't care. You're lucky your father is so nice. Just wait till you get home. I'll kill you.

Mrs. Granger.

Hermione was in tears when Ron read her this. But that wasn't the worst that happened. Oh no, it was far from being the worst. On the final night of Ron's detentions, Hermione found herself walking to the library(she knew the way very well by now), to find some books that taught brail. When somebody grabbed her hair.

"Come with me, Granger." A cruel menacing voice whispered in her ear. He dragged her through a corridor into a broom closet. "Come 'ere Granger," He tried to unzip her pants. Tried, being the key word. As soon as he got near enough, Hermione punched Draco (which is had been happening a lot lately (A/N: I LIKE WHEN DRACO GETS PUNCHED!) and ran. She stumbled down the stairs, crying, bleeding from every avalible spot, bruising herself miserably, then banging her head on the last stair. The noise summoned people who looked scared and confused. Eventually, Madame Pomphrey came and magicked Hermione onto a stretcher.

Ron rushed to Hermione's side as soon as he heard what had happened. "Hermione, are you alright?" He asked.

"Ronald," her head had been magicked together, but you could still see the blood that had dyed her hair red. "I'm fine now that you're here." Ron lay a kiss on her lips, even though they were bleeding.

"How's the baby?" He asked concerned.

"Madame Pomphrey said that it'd be fine, our love is making it stronger." She smiled weekly. "Listen, Ron, Draco tried to..." Hermione whispered.

"He did what? Do you mean Malfoy?" She nodded. "I'm going to kill him."

"No, don't. I already punched him. I won't get detentions, but you will." Hermione sobbed. Ron held her tight, tighter then he ever had before.

"I love you." He said.

"I love you too."

At that point Harry and Ginny entered the hospital wing, looking as though they had ran a mile.

"What is it?" Harry asked. "I was getting tutored, and McGonagall felt that something was wrong, so she said that I was excused. Then Ginny found me and told me that you were in the hospital wing."

"I was going to get some brail books when I fell down the stairs." She lied.

"Oh," Harry said. "Can I help you at all?"

"Yes, kill Lord Voldemort, so my nightmare won't be complete."

"I'll do anything." Harry said kissing Hermione friendly on the cheek. Ron glared at this none the less. Harry, getting the signal, left, Ginny following.

A new excitement passed over the teenagers in the castle. The first Hogsmeade visit of the year was set for Halloween, as usual. Giggling girls were nervously going up to various boys, trying to find a date. The trio were sitting around at there favorite chairs by the crackling fire place.

"You go without me." Hermione said. She had returned from the hospital room, but a few days ago. "I'm not going."

"And leave you to kill yourself or crack open your skull? Not going to happen, 'Mione." Ron set down his book and gave her a hard look. "Why don't you just come with Harry and I?"

"I don't want to."

"Hermione." Ron pressed on. "It'll be fun, and your so depressed all the time, just come with us..."

"No." Hermione said stubbornly.

"'Mione," Harry said. "You barely do anything with us anymore. Well, with me anyways."

"I know, but I don't want to go. Why can't we just hang around here?"

"Because," Harry's temper was rising. "I haven't been out of this castle forever. I'm beginning to go mad."

"Alright, I'll come." Ron beamed at his stubborn girlfriend. "But only because I don't want you to get mad at me." Ron's face fell slightly, it was almost like Hermione liked Harry. But that wasn't it, Ron told himself. Hermione loved him. Was it because he had made her pregnant? That would be totally unfair, it wasn't his fault... Entirely... Was she resenting him?

"I'm going to bed," Ron said, he needed to think.

"Alright Ron, I'm sure Harry will show me to the staircase." Hermione settled herself more comfortably in her arm chair. She loved Ron, and loved the way he loved her. It would be refreshing to get out of the castle, maybe go to Madame Puddyfoot's with Ron. She smiled at herself, thinking of Ron's face at the idea of Madame Puddyfoot's.

The clouds were as gray the next morning, making the snow on the ground look miserable. Hermione was all bundled up in a scarf and mittens. Ron had a hard time putting all of her gear on. Well, who wouldn't, it was cold, and Hermione was pregnant. The three of them set off to the carriages, then later, down the streets of Hogsmeade. They decided to go to the Three Broomsticks. Ron was busy getting the drinks when it happened.

"Hermione," Harry said, running his hand down Hermione's front. She shivered.

"Harry," Hermione said. "I'm not interested..."

"Yes you are." Harry grabbed Hermione close, and pressed his lips to hers. She tried to push away.

"Harry, stop, please," Hermione cried. Harry could feel the tears falling down her cheeks. Ron returned just in time.

"What the hell--" Ron dropped the glasses of Butterbeer, and ran out of the Broomsticks. His face was redder than it had ever been in his whole life, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered, his best friend and his girlfriend. Never would he had believed it.

"Harry, what was that for?" Hermione asked, when Harry unglued his lips.

"Hermione, I love you, I always have, and always will."

"Harry, I can't be you friend anymore." Hermione left stumbling out of the pub, "Ron...Ron. Where are you! Ron it wasn't me. Believe me." She screeched as she fell down. The people around her were looking at her as though she had gone mad. Some stopped to help her up.

Harry dashed out of the pub after Hermione. "Hermione, please, it wasn't me, I swear, he wasn't me. Believe me."

"Harry get away. I hate you, I'll never forgive you." Hermione was leaning against the outside of the pub, curled up in a ball. When Harry tried to help her, she refused. "Just go way." She'd scream. Finally, after a long time, Hermione agreed to let Harry take her back to the carriage. It took McGonagall to convince her though...

"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked, entering the common room. Everyone turned towards Ron, Ron made a slicing motion across his neck. He was sitting in the arm chair a the window, lost in thought. She had kissed him. How could he have been so stupid? All the signs were right in front of him. He wondered where that Scarhead was. He wasn't with Hermione, not that he cared. He didn't care anymore, he was never going to talk to Hermione or Harry, ever again.

Harry lay on his bed in his dormitory. He didn't do anything. Anything at all. Draco, rather Crabbed and Goyle had snatched him on his way to the Three Broomsticks. They then had knocked him out cold. The next thing he noticed, he saw himself, kissing Hermione. He had run over to help her, but she refused, he could understand that. His new goal in life; kill Malfoy for making his life a living hell.

The feast that night didn't hold as much joy as it normally did. For starters, neither Ron, nor Hermione were there. Ron was curled up under his blankets, his tears falling on his feather pillow. Nothing mattered that much anymore. His world was crumbling under his feet. Hermione was in her arm chair, talking to the quick quotes quill. Tears were running down her face, dripping on her parchment. She was blind and no one would help her. She'd have to see Professor McGonagall and tell her. She'd just hurt herself more. Harry was sitting, all alone, in the Great Hall, throughly not enjoying his evening.

Monday was as ugly as Sunday, if not uglier. Hermione arose early that day, not having eyes to help her. She hastened dressing in her robes, and slowly walked down to the common room, making sure of her footing each step. Hermione managed walking across the whole common room with out hurting herself. However, she did bang into a few things on the way. Once outside the common room her life was hellful. First, she tripped and screwed up her ankle. Then, banged into something and scraped her elbow.

"Ms. Granger," Professor McGonagall said, helping her up. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Meaning of what, Professor?" Hermione asked.

"Where's Mr. Weasley?" She asked in her sharpest tone.

"We got into a fight."

"About what?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Yes you will, Ms. Granger." With that, Professor McGonagall grabbed her arm, and dragged Hermione to her office. "Sit," She said. Hermione did as she was told. Professor McGonagall took her seat in a comfortable arm chair on the opposite side of her desk. "What happened?"

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it." Hermione said.

"I see you become more stubborn." She said bemused.

Hermione smiled a little, the first time she had smiled for a long time. "Ron dumped me."

"Pray tell why he dumped you?"

"Because he saw Harry kissing me."

"Why were you kissing Harry?"

"Ron was getting the butterbeer, and Harry told me that he loved me, and started kissing me, even though I told him not to, but he wouldn't listen. And so now I hate Harry, and Ron won't walk to me."

"Harry was kissing you?"

"Yes he was kissing me."

"Very well, I shall send for the boys so we can sort this out."

"Please no, Professor, don't get them." Hermione begged. But it was useless, for Hermione could hear the clanking of the Professors' shoes and the closing of the door.

A quarter of an hour later, Professor McGonagall returned with Ron and Harry. "Alright boys, take your seats by Ms. Granger." Harry hastened to sit down, but Ron stood, stubbornly. "Sit Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said in a snappish voice. Ron sat, but refused to look at Hermione's face. "Weasley, Ms. Granger told me that Potter came on to her. Do you forgive Hermione?"

"I guess so," Ron said.

"Now, Potter, what's your story?"

"As soon as I left the carriage, Crabbe and Goyle conked me out. When I woke up, I went strait to the Three Broomsticks. Then I saw myself, kissing Hermione, and Ron, dropping three tankards. I saw me, and the other me left hurriedly. Next thing I knew, Hermione was crying, and Ron was running away, cursing. It wasn't my fault."

Hermione was crying now. "Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry," her hand found its way over to Ron's, yet when she tried to hold it, Ron pulled away. "I don't forgive you."

"Ron, there was nothing I could do."

"You could have pulled away from him, couldn't of you?" Ron's temper was rising. "That's it, I'm out of here." And with that, he left.

"Mr. Weasley, come back this instant." Professor McGonagall called after him. He didn't listen to her

Later that night in the common room Ron sat, reading Macbeth, all the while glaring at Hermione, even though he knew she couldn't see him. Hermione was on the balcony (when or how they got a balcony, nobody knows). She was singing softly.

And every time I try to fly I fall

Without my wings I feel so small

I guess I need you Baby

And every time I try to run away

I see your face it's haunting me

Ron's face twisted it's way into a smile. It was hard to be mad at her. He walked up to her and put his hand on her back.

"Get away from me." She said. Ron didn't listen, he wanted to test her. He swept her his finest kiss. She pulled away. "Get away from me you creep, I belong to Ron."

"That's just what I wanted to hear." Ron said.

"Ron! It's you!" She flung her arms around him. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, I heard you sing and I just couldn't stay mad at you."

"I was singing that song for you, you know."

He smiled. "Yeah, I know."

"Oh Ron," she sighed, trying to find his lips; before she could, she fainted.

"Get Madame Pomphrey, Professor McGonagall! Someone! Hermione's fainted!" Ron yelled into the common room. The occupants obeyed quickly. As much as they thought that it was ridiculous that Hermione was pregnant, they all tried there best to help her as much as possible. Neville was the first out the door. It was no surprise; there was a rumor going around that Neville had, had a crush on Hermione every since he saw her. He returned a quarter of an hour later, with both McGonagall and Pomphrey at his side.

Madame Pomphrey magicked Hermione onto a stretcher and took her down to the hospital ward, followed by McGonagall, Ron, and Harry.

"What were you doing at the time?" Professor McGonagall asked Ron.

"I was making-up with her."

"Oh, that's good. Ten points to Griffindor."

"What do you think caused her to faint?" Harry asked Madame Pomphrey.

"Dehydration, probably." She was fumbling around with something in her hands. "It happens a lot to a pregnant woman."

Woman... That word stirred around in Ron's mind. Yes... Hermione was now a woman, and a beautiful one at that. He never really thought of her as one... He still thought of her as the little girl who fought against the troll with them in there first year. And the girl he fought with over a person who wanted to bring Voldemort back to power. The girl he fought with in his fourth year, only because he loved her. The girl who kissed him good luck before his first Qudditch game. Or, the little girl who was lying, still as dead in the hospital wing. Dead, just like she was now. Just like she was when she was in St. Mungoes. Ron wiped a tear from his cheeks.

They turned a corner and arrived at the hospital wing. The thing Madame Pomphrey was fumbling with, was now laying across Hermione's chest. She said that it would help Hermione breathe, even if she was near dead. That reassured Ron, yet through him off quite a bit. Was Hermione that near death? Again? His head hurt, too much thinking... Way too much thinking.

Madame Pomphrey laid Hermione, carefully, upon the bed. Ron and Harry had pulled up two chairs at the side of her bed. Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomphrey left the wing to go talk some "adult stuff." Neither Ron nor Harry noticed. They sat in silence for a long time. Then...

"She'll be okay." Harry said.

"How can you be so sure?" He said in a deadly voice. "I'm not sure of anything anymore. Only that I love her."

"I'm not. I thought everyone was safe. I thought Cedric was safe... Grabbing the Triwizard Cup...I thought Sirius was safe in Grimauld Place... But life's filled with." Harry's face was now red, from crying. It had been the first time that Harry ever talked about Sirius's death.

"It must be hell for you." Ron said quietly, Harry nodded. "It is, but I think of the good times and things seem to right themselves... Besides, it's not as though they're gone. They're just behind the veil."

"Harry," Ron said, frowning slightly. "Are you going out with Luna?"

"So what if I am?"

"It's just that she's a little weird..."

"She's weird is she?" His temper was rising as he spoke. "You know, I don't diss you for loving Hermione."

"Leave Hermione out of this!" Ron yelled so loudly that birds flocked off the castle. Hermione woke up startled. "See what you did, you made me wake up Hermione."

Hermione groaned. "Guys, stop fighting. You fight too much." She rolled on her side.

"Hermione! You're awake?" Ron said anxiously.

"Yeah, thanks to you two," she grumbled. Harry stood up and said. "I'll go alert Madame Pomphrey." He strode over to her office, winking at Ron. Ron smiled feebly.

"How are you feeling?" Ron asked her.

"A bit woozy, but alright." She said, propping herself up on some pillows. "I'll be fine, really."

"Well I've been worried. About you." He said softly. Ron slipped him fingers into Hermione's hand, squeezing them tightly. It was hard to say who feared the bond was to break more. Ron loved her tiny hands. Hermione loved his strong grip. But it was the bond that they shared that she loved most.

"Ron," she said, in the quietest voice. "Kiss me."

"Yes, I will... for you and only you." He bent forward and swept her into a gentle kiss. He didn't want multiple children after all... "I love you," he said, pulling away for a breath.

"As do I... as do I." A tear ran down Hermione's cheek. But it didn't have a long way to travel, for Ron had wiped it up, saying, "you have nothing to cry about. I'm here for you, I will always be here for you."

She smiled weakly. "Ron, I'm afraid... I'm so afraid."

"About what?"

"Having this child, being alone. Everything."

"Why would you fear being alone?"

"Voldemort's returning." Ron flinched at the name, but not as bad as he used to.

"Don't think about that, no one wants to think about that. The only thing I want you to think about is how much fun you're going to have with are son."

"Daughter," Hermione corrected.

"Right... Daughter..." Ron amended, Hermione laughed softly. How could he be so perfect? Always saying the perfect things at the perfect time. He was the best person in the world, and she was the luckiest, being his love. Sure, it only took six years, getting blind, and becoming suicidal to get him to fess up. But that didn't matter.

"Are you thinking about our daughter?" Ron asked.

"No," but her thoughts quickly turned towards her. Hermione could see a girl, about eleven, right about to go to Hogwarts. Ron was imagining a girl, to his horror, too. A girl a little taller than the average eleven year old. She had waste length frizzy red hair, brown eyes, and a sprinkling of freckles across her cheek.

"Are you now?" He asked again.

"Yes."

END OF PART TWO