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!

3. Part 3

PART THREE:

(A/N: This chapter's song is provided by me. I wrote it! I'm so proud of myself. My first song!)

November arrived in a whirl wind of color. Griffindor's first Quidditch match was drawing nearer and nearer each day. Dean had been given the task of guiding Hermione, whilst Ron, Harry, and Ginny was away at practice. The game was against Ravenclaw, and the tension between houses was at an all time high. Ravenclaw still didn't forgive Ron for blocking that goal last year.

"I wish I could see..." Hermione complained from the stands. It was a nippy thirty five degrees outside, and Hermione was getting crabbier by the second.

"It's not that bad..." Dean said in an effort to cheer Hermione up. "Ouch... That's gotta hurt..."

"What happened?" Hermione asked anxiously. "Is Ron hurt?"

"No, Chang is though..." Good, Hermione thought. At least someone who deserved it was in pain. Not that Cho had deserved it. But it was nice to have someone else in pain for once. Besides her, Ron and Harry.

"Who has the Quaffle?" Hermione asked.

"Ravenclaw."

Ron, who was now hovering in front of the middle goal post, looked at Hermione for a second. She looked so helpless and confused, sitting there, listening to Dean talk. For a second, Ron wished he could be down there with her, helping her see. And yet another second, he grew jealous of Dean, getting to be so close to her, while he was so far away. Then he remembered that he was playing a game of Quidditch and needed to pay attention. The Quaffle was flying towards the right hoop. Ron sped forward, and managed to grab hold of the Quaffle and passed it to Ginny.

"Ron just saved a goal." Dean told Hermione.

"Good." Hermione seemed hovering on the brink of boredom.

"Ginny just scored a goal."

"No duh, Dean, I don't need your commentary, I already can hear the Creevy Brothers!" Spat Hermione, angrily. It was one thing to be pregnant and grumpy, another thing to be blind, pregnant, and grumpy.

"Oh no!" A choral of voiced ran like a shiver through the crowd.

"What is it?" Hermione asked hurriedly.

"Ron just fell off his broom." Dean said in horror.

"Ron, Ron are you okay?" Hermione flung herself onto the sleeping Ron. "He's still breathing, Madame Pomphrey, please say he's still breathing!"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione blushed at the name, pleased none the less. "Ron is still breathing, please, calm yourself, he needs his rest."

Hermione nodded. "Okay, but I'm staying right here until he's better."

"I wouldn't of suspected otherwise." Madame Pomphrey said tartly. "I'll be in my office if you need anything."

Throughout the day, visitors came and went, but it was for not, Ron still hadn't woken up. Harry (followed by Luna, of course) stayed by his side by day. At night, Hermione refused to go to bed, refused to eat. She had never dreamed that this could happen. Sure, she thought that somewhere in the future, the future being a few years from now, Ron would get hurt. But never had she dreamed that it would come so soon. She held his hand tightly. It was cold and damp. Hermione ran her finger, tracing Ron's life line. It was long and braided. She laughed softly, thinking of Ron's face when she stormed out of Divination. Her fingers entwined with his. Around two in the morning, Hermione fell into a doze.

"Mrs. Weasley," Madame Pomphrey shook her awake. "Would you like some food before your classes?"

"No, I'm not going to classes," she said sullenly.

"I insist, you have to go to classes."

"Well that's too bad, because I'm staying right here until Ron is one hundred percent better," Hermione said, temper rising like a snake from a basket. " And if you have a problem with it, well, too bad for you."

"Granger, I shall excuse you're behavior only because you are pregnant and have no idea what you're talking about. Now get to class!"

"I'm not going anywhere until Ron is better. I love him and that's more important than this dumb school!" Hermione shouted at her.

The silence in the ward seemed to echo for an eternity. All that could be heard was Hermione's angry, deep, breaths. Madame Pomphrey seemed more upset than ever; and that was a big deal. Finally, Madame Pomphrey turned heatedly back to her office, and marched away. Hermione sat down, holding Ron's hand, ever so tightly.

Harry and Luna stopped by during lunch and tried to get Hermione to eat something. But it was useless. Hermione refused to eat a bite, and refused to withdraw her gaze from Ron's closed eyes.

"Hermione, you gotta eat something." Harry said.

"No she doesn't," Luna said mystically. "You can survive off your own fat for three years."

"No, you can't," Luna looked abashed at Harry's words. "Hermione, you need your strength for the baby."

Hermione didn't speak, just stared blankly at Ron. Eventually, Harry and Luna left. Hermione was glad of this, she liked to be alone with Ron. The moments she spent with Ron, never seemed to drag on, neither speed up. It was just there. As if, time had stood still, Hermione never changed he position, never ate, never withdrew her gaze.

Ron's eyes opened, blinkingly. It was a mere two weeks since the accident.

"Where am I?" Ron asked.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, then stood up in shock.

"Who... who are you?" Ron asked Hermione. His voice was nervous, and afraid.

"What do you mean, Ron, I'm Hermione, your girlfriend."

"I have a girlfriend?" Ron asked.

"Oh no... you have amnesia." Hermione yelled over to Madame Pomphrey's office. "Madame! Madame come quick, Ron's got amnesia!"

"I could have told you that." The nurse said. "With some memory potions, he will eventually remember everything."

"How long will that take?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"About a month. He'll be out before Christmas." Hermione's eyes welled up. She was alone for another month.

"And I need to ask you to go on, living your life. Ginny Weasley agreed to escort you to lessons and such."

"Thank you," Hermione said quietly, wiping her eyes.

"I'll go get her." Hermione heard Madame Pomphrey's echoing footsteps. She felt more alone then ever. And vulnerable. What if Malfoy came in here, while she was waiting, and did something to her. Hermione wouldn't be able to stop it. She walked over, feeling her way to Ron's bed. There she sat.

"Where am I?" He asked.

"You're at school; Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts, I've never heard of such a thing."

"It's a school to learn Magic."

"I know magic." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a wand.

"Yes, I know you do."

"And you're my girlfriend, right?" He asked, uncertainly. "I don't think there's anyone in the whole world prettier than you." Hermione blushed. "If you're my girlfriend, will you kiss me?"

Hermione smiled. "I'm blind, so you have to kiss me first."

"Your... blind..."

"Yeah, Malfoy, you hate Malfoy, by the way, blinded me."

"Malfoy's an evil git."

Hermione chuckled lightly. "You've got that right. Now, how about that kiss?" Ron sat up, and found his lips reach hers. Hermione could never remember such a better kiss. Perhaps it was the absents of love over the past few weeks. It didn't matter. She never wanted to draw breath, but she knew she had to. With the breath, Ron said, "I've never been kissed by an angel." Hermione nuzzled his nose slightly before going back to his mouth.

December brought in yearly snowstorm, and the usually snowstorm of homework. Hermione finally caught up with her homework. Another Hogsmeade weekend came, Hermione joined Harry, Luna, and Ginny on there trip. Ron was not allowed out of the Hospital Wing; Madame Pomphrey was afraid that he'd be taken advantage of. Hermione bought thousands of Christmas presents for her friends. She bought Ron a special gift.

"What is it?" Ron asked, it was later that day.

"An early Christmas present." Hermione handed Ron something from behind her back. "It's a guitar."

"A what?"

"It's a instrument." She tipped it on her side, and played a few strings. "I thought it might occupy you until you're better."

"Thank you, Hermione." Ron said, taking the acoustic guitar. "Did I never played guitar before."

"No, you haven't, so I got you another gift."

"What is it?"

Hermione pulled out her wand, and pointed it to Ron. Ron pulled away. "Maestrolious," she muttered, "There, now you'll learn easier."

"Thank you." He smiled. Ron's memory was slowly returning. He, himself, could remember flashes of things, like who is family and friends were. Who was dead... and who was alive. It was highly emotional, Harry, explaining to Ron that Sirius was dead.

He remembered everything about Hermione as soon as he took his first memory potion. Perhaps it was because she was always on his mind before the accident. During the two weeks when he was knocked out, he had dreams about her. Only, he couldn't remember that she was real. And when he saw her... It was like his dreams came true. Ron was scared at first, thinking he had died and went to heaven, but eventually, Madame Pomphrey cooled him down.

Ron held his guitar tightly, and started playing, rearranging his fingers until it sounded right. He played the chord again, admiring the sound. He tried a different combination, that didn't sound right. Ron ran his fingers along the neck, finding the right spot. By the time Hermione had left for the night, Ron could play all the chords to perfection. Ron was in love with that guitar, almost as much as he loved Hermione. Madame Pomphrey, on the other hand, had to place an invisible sound wall around his bed so she didn't have to hear it.

Hermione would visit all the free time she had. Ginny was sick of being in the hospital ward. Yet, she couldn't help liking it when Harry was there, even though Luna refused to leave his side. Ginny had developed a small crush on him. Nothing major. While Hermione was talking in a gentle tone to Ron, explaining over and over again how life was, Ginny would escape to her happy place. And when Harry was there, Ginny would make pleasant conversation with him. All whilst Luna was zoning out. She trusted Harry too much. They'd talk about Quidditch, school, and yes, the weather.

Eventually, Ron remembered everything about his life. It was a grand party back in the common room the night he returned. Harry and Ginny had sneaked down to the kitchens and got pastries. Then they visited Hogsmeade, were they got enough Butterbeers for everyone to have seconds. Ron seemed happiest of all. He could remember everything, and fully enjoyed telling everyone there names. Ron had even more excited when girls were clamoring towards him, asking him to relive his accident. Hermione did not approve of this. She was jealous. But that soon evaporated, for Ron pulled out his guitar around midnight, and announced to everyone (including some fan girls of his) that he wrote a song for Hermione. Hermione blushed at this, but blushed even harder when he started singing it. His voice, itchy, yet full and deep, sang sweetly. His fingers plucked a song that seemed to have been practiced millions of times.

She's like an angel from heaven

Who was sent to shine on me

She was the one who helped me when I was gray

And I helped her in the same way

I love the way she stayed by my side

All day and all night

Hands so tiny, in my giant ones

Forever I wish I can hold them

I'm blinded, forever blinded

I'm blinded by my love for you

You are the one that I dream about

You are the one that I hold so tight

You are the one that I love

You are the one

Blinded, blinded by love

Death is not an issue

You were petrified

I was petrified by your beauty

Your lips were cold and lifeless

I kissed them for you

I stayed by you

I strayed from you

Sometimes I just don't understand

But no one understands

When your

Blinded, forever blinded

I'm blinded by my love for you

You are the one that I dream about

You are the one that I hold so tight

You are the one that I love

You are the one

Blinded, blinded by love

First year I liked you

Second year I thought you were hot stuff

Third year I loved you more with that slap you gave Malfoy

Four year I hated my idol

I know it was stupid, but I don't care

You were more important

I wanted to ask you to the dance so badly

But was afraid, so afraid

Fifth year you gave me a kiss on the cheek

I melted on the spot

Still I didn't know if you meant it

Cos I was

Blinded, forever blinded

I'm blinded by my love for you

You are the one that I dream about

You are the one that I hold so tight

You are the one that I love

You are the one

Blinded, blinded by love

Hermione didn't want the notes to end. She felt tears trickle down her face. As Ron came and sat by her, she could hear jeering from his fan girls

"What did you think?" He asked.

"It was beautiful." Hermione said, wiping away her tears. Ron leaned forward and kissed her tear. Hermione was overcome with emotion. All the things that had been going on for the passed three months seemed as if they were planned. Planned all leading up to this. Her getting blinded, her suicide attempt, their baby, their fight, Ron's accident. It was all planned so Ron could sing her this song. A song about how much he loved her, in front of the whole common room.

"It's okay," Ron said, trying to comfort her, throughly not knowing what she was crying about. "The song wasn't sad or anything."

"No," she agreed, "but it was filled with such love I've never known. My parents never loved me. At least my Mother never did. She was always ashamed of me. That's why I'm always such a teachers pet. I love my dad, but he was never home. Always away at work. I've never been loved before."

"Hermione..." Ron said, thinking back to what she had just said. "Can I talk to you alone?" He asked nervously. There was something on his mind. A very scary idea, but it couldn't be...

"Sure Ron," Hermione stood up, and offered her arm to Ron. Ron took it and guided her up to the girls dormitory. They sat on Hermione's bed, facing each other.

"Hermione... did your mom... did she... did she abuse you?" Ron asked anxiously.

Hermione seemed to hesitated. She swore to herself that she'd keep her secret to the grave, but this was Ron. Ron who had just proclaimed his love for her in that lovely song. Her head seemed to crash horribly, sending in a wicked bad headache. Slowly, she nodded her head. Tears spilled even more heavily onto her sheets. She was doubled up. Ron was sitting cross-legged by Hermione, rubbing her back. He couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe she had told. Ron hugged her tightly, somehow, this made Hermione feel slightly better.

Before long, the other girls came tramping up to there dorm. Ron drew the curtains around the bed, making the girls giggle. Ron wanted to yell at them, but decided against it. He didn't want to stir Hermione. Hermione finally agreed to go to sleep at half passed three. She leaned her head on her pillow, surprised to feel Ron's warm body, lying on top of the covers.

"Pavarti's going to talk, you know." Hermione said quietly.

"I don't care, it's going to be a hard night for you, so I'm staying with you."

"Thanks."

"Hermione, I would stay with you if it meant death." This though settled somewhere deep in Hermione's heart. There, she knew it was true. She drifted off to sleep. However, sleep wasn't a secure place. Her mother was hitting her for not coming home on time. Hermione wept sorrowfully, and her mother yelled and screamed at her. Hermione desperately tried to find her father. When she returned from her journey, her mother cracked a whip on her back. The sharp lashing pain was still frozen in her back when she received a letter from Hogwarts. Her mother had poured boiling water in a boot, and forced Hermione's foot into it. She still had the burn. Then her mother choked her.

Hermione woke up with a startle, her throat burning as though it was really being choked. Her head hurt, knowing that all those dreams were true, she still had the scars, the burns mentally and physically. "Ron," she shook him up gently.

He was awake within an instant. "What is it?"

"I had a bad dream," she said. Hermione swung her leg over the covers, showing the red hot burn. "My mum saw my letter to Hogwarts and burned me. She said that magic was the work of Satin, and in the midevil times, this is how they treated those who defied God." Ron ran his hand down Hermione's long leg. Hermione winced at the touch. It still burned. Every step she took, a sharp pain resinated up her leg. "It still hurts..." Hermione went on. "But the memory hurts worst."

Ron nodded. His face was all of the sudden, very, very white. "Hermione, have you told anybody about this?"

"No, she'd just kill me when I got home."

"It might help... If we tell Dumbledore, he can alert the police things, and she'd have to go to prison."

"It's a nice thought," Hermione said, touching his cheek. Tears were, yet again, pouring down her own. "But then I'd be paretically an orphan. Like I said, my dad's never around."

"You could stay with me." He said. "Hermione, I'm not letting you get hurt again."

"Ron, you can't protect me forever. If I go home over the summer, I'll probably kill myself. If I go to your house, my mother would kill me. And if we turned Mum in, I would be miserable all summer."

"Why would you be miserable?" Ron asked, surveying her face.

"Because I turned my mom in... Being pregnant, I know how terrible it is to, to have to carry a burden like this."

"But Hermione, it's not a burden, it's a gift." Again, saying all the perfect things at the perfect time. Hermione wondered how she got him, and what on earth she did to deserve him. Ron reached over to her tummy, which was a little more round than it was the starting of the year. "This is a gift, Hermione, a gift. Everything happens for a reason."

"What if the reason was for me to vent some of my anger at my mom, on my child?" Hermione quivered as she said those words.

Ron pressed his finger against her lips. "You are not your mom, and don't even dream that you could do such a thing. Hermione, you're a good person. You could of kill Rita Skeeter for all the bad things she did, but you didn't. You are stronger than that. You are the strongest person I know. You will never do such a thing. Sure, you do get angry, but you can push through that. I'll help you. Always remember that I'll help you. I'm here for you, and only you."

"Thanks Ron," she settled herself against Ron's chest, and cried until sleep came. Ron didn't sleep for the rest of the night. He was up thinking about his girlfriend. He ran his fingers through her hair until he reached a snag. Hermione's head shook slightly, he quickly withdrew her fingers in hair of waking her. His thoughts were scarred from Hermione's burn. It was sad, what this world was coming to. At least he had her, that was all that seemed to matter now. Nothing was certain anymore, except for his love for her. With Voldemort on the loose again, he couldn't even be certain that his family was alive at the moment. For all he knew, they had just been murdered. Ron held Hermione closer to him.

The next morning the common room was empty. The first day of the holiday season was upon them. Ron and Harry were engaged in a game of Wizard's chess. Ginny was watching them avidly, whilst Hermione was reading a brail book. It was quiet and peaceful, until the news. Hedwig brought in the weekly newsletter; The Patronus.

"Anything interesting in that?" Ron asked Harry.

Harry flipped through the paper, then gasped. "There's been a death." Harry said, shocked.

"Who?" Ginny, Ron and Hermione asked in unison. There voices were anxious.

"Patricia Evans," Harry said. Relief spread through the friends. Now, everyone was a suspect to die. There would be a death a day. "'Murdered by the Dark Lord.'..." Harry paused as he read. His eyes grew sadder, when he said, "'Believed to be related to The Boy Who Lived'..." He trailed off into silence.

"Oh Harry," Ginny reached over to hug him.

Harry's head was filled with mixed emotions. He was sent to live with the Dursley's, yet he had relatives. One's that Dumbledore never told him about. He had suffered so badly, being bullied. A heat rose rapidly like boiling water.

Harry stood up suddenly, breaking free of Ginny's grip. Harry flew out of the common room, stormed down the corridor, right to Dumbledore's office.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME ABOUT PATRICIA!" Harry yelled at the statues.

Dumbledore heard, and opened the door, "come in, Harry." He said, calmly as ever. Harry stormed in. He was the angriest that he'd ever remembered. Dumbledore sat at his desk, eyes twinkling bright as ever. "Yes, Harry, what can I help you with?" Dumbledore asked.

"Why didn't you tell me about Patricia, why did you never tell me we were related?" Harry kicked the chair on the opposite side of Dumbledore's desk. "Why didn't you tell me!" He shouted again.

"Harry, sit down." Harry didn't he just gave Dumbledore a evil look. "Or not. Just hear me out, okay?"

Harry didn't reply, only nodded. "Fifteen years ago, when your parents were murdered, I had to make a choice. It was the Evan's, your grandmother's niece, or the Dursley's, your mother's sister. One was muggle, the other was magical. One was abusive, the other, nice and caring. So why did I send you to the Dursley's? Why did I not want you to know about being magic? I never wanted you to know about the burden you would have to bare. I never wanted you to be aware of the other world. Why? Because surely, surely you would know about Lord Voldemort. And sooner or later, you would figure out, long before you were ready, about the terrible burden that you'd have to face."

Harry nodded and left, crying.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ginny asked softly.

"Nothing, I don't want to talk about it." Harry said.

Ginny put her arm around Harry's shoulder, "it will be alright, I'm here." Harry excepted her arm. Ginny hugged him, and Harry never wanted to go. Maybe it was the Weasley touch, but somehow, he felt as though he was being loved. The warm feeling spread through Harry's bones. Harry moved his face, so his lips were touching Ginny's. He had never expected to kiss someone so suddenly, but it felt so right, and warm. Harry was blinded to the fact that there were others in the common room, starring at them. Blinded by the fact that he was going out with Luna. He was wrapped in Ginny's arm and that was all that mattered. Suddenly, Ginny pulled away. "Harry," she said. "I've never stopped loving you. I've never stopped since I saw you. Harry, I love you."

"I love you too," Harry said, and went in for another kiss.

"Harry, we can't do this," Ginny said. "What about Luna?"

"What about he?"

"She's my friend, I can't do this behind her back. And you should be considerate, she's your girlfriend."

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "I've just... I've never felt this way about Luna. I've never felt this... this warmth." Ginny smiled and blushed. "I'll break up with her tomorrow, just kiss me now." Against this, she was powerless. They kissed again.

Ron and Hermione were snuggling on a nearby chair. "They sound so happy," Hermione said smiling. Ron didn't reply, he was making a fist, then spreading out his hands again. "Ron, you don't trust Harry, do you?" Hermione asked him.

"I don't trust anybody who's dating my sister."

"Don't you trust her?" Hermione asked.

"Not in an instance," Ron said. "She's a fiery red head... I don't trust her at all." Hermione laughed.

"You really need to work on your trust issues."

"I trust you," Ron said, in a cute innocent voice. Hermione responded by kissing him

The annual Christmas snowball fight took place the next morning on Christmas eve. Hermione chose to sit aside whilst Ron, Dean, Neville, Harry, Ginny, and Seamus joined in a snowball fight. Luna went home for the holidays. But soon enough, Ron had dragged Hermione in as a shield.

"Let me go!" Hermione said, laughing. Ron was holding Hermione close in front of him. "Ron, you dolt." He didn't. "Stop firing at me! Or as soon as Ron lets me go, I'll hex everyone!" Dean, heeding Hermione's warning, ran around Ron and Hermione, and hit Ron with a snowball.

"What did you do that for?" Ron asked, letting go of his girlfriend. Hermione brushed off the snow from her jacket

"Your girlfriend may be blind, but she sure as hell can hex."

Hermione blushed. Then, she scooped up some snow, and rolled a ball behind her back. "Ron?"

"What?" Hermione noted where his voice was coming from, and threw her snowball at him."What did you do that for?" Ron asked. "That hurt!" He rubbed his shoulder where the snowball had hit him.

"For fun!" Hermione said, brightly.

"You may be blind, but you are so dead." Ron said, compacting the snow so tightly that it turned into ice. He threw it, but Hermione dodged behind Seamus. Seamus cursed, and hit Hermione. The rest of the fight was in a complete blaze of white.

At half pass noon, the friends ran down the corridor, flanked by Filch, who was chasing them for the puddles that they left. Reaching the Great Hall, they joyfully sank into there seats, and enduldged themselves with the delectable food. The Great Hall was decorated, as it normally was, with its twelve Christmas trees, and singing mistletoe. The singing mistletoe was something rather new; and something rather annoying. Every time a couple would stand under it, it would sing something like, "Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Or something completely random, like, "I just can't wait to be king."

The afternoon was spent playing exploding snap on the balcony. This was particularly enjoyable, as they had no idea when the deck would blow up, when the storm clouds would come and soak the cards, and wondering if the balcony would fall off if the deck blew up. Hermione was the happier that she had been since before her blinding. For now, she was loved, and having fun. It seemed to ease the pain of her burned leg, and the thought of what her mother was going to do to her upon her return.

What was she going to do to her? Hermione's thoughts took a dark turn. What if her mother hurt there daughter? What if she killed their daughter? What if she killed her? Hermione's breath was unsteady. Ron seemed to notice this.

"Hermione," he said quietly, so that only she could hear. "Are you alright?" Hermione shook her head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes, but not here."

"We'll be right back," Ron said to the group at large. He then took Hermione's hand and led her up to her empty dormitory. "What's up?"

"Nothing." A pause. "Everything. Ron I was having such a good time, then I thought about my Mum... And about the baby."

"That's an easy solution, while we're at school, we'll have my Mum raise him."

"But what about my dad? What if mum hunts me down? What if I have to return to my house during the summer holidays? What if--"

"Kiss me," Ron said, cutting her off.

"What? Right now?"

"Trust me, it will help." Hermione shrugged and leaned in to Ron's kiss. All her fears seemed to melt away. Everything bad in the world seemed to right its self. Nothing bad would ever go wrong in Ron's arms. For once, she felt safe. Hermione pulled away from the kiss, and leaned on Ron's chest. "Ron, don't make me go back there." She whispered in his ear. "Please, don't make me go back there."

"You won't ever go back there with me here."

Ginny entered the dorm. "Hey, dinner is ready in the Great Hall if you want some."

Hermione wiped her tears aside, "c'mon Ron, let's go."

Since there were only eight people left in Gryffindor tower (Harry, Ron, Dean, Neville, Ginny, Hermione, Seamus, and some fourth year by the name of Melissa), they decided to sleep out in the common room. The night's events started with the all popular pillow fight. Hermione used the same tactics that she used for the snowball fight, hear, then aim. And when that failed, she swung her pillow randomly, knocking the occasional thing off the tables. They then sat around and told ghost stories. Of course, ghost stories in the wizarding world were nothing to be frightened of, so they hastened to tell stories of boggarts.

"And then," Ginny was telling her story at around midnight. "The spider--" Ron coward, "–wrapped its web around poor man Davis. He was slowly suffocated. All because his parents refused to believe that there was a monster under his bed. Stupid muggle parents."

"Blimey, I'm tired." Harry yawned widely. "Let's go to bed."

Seamus threw a pillow at him. "Harry, you dork, it's a party, and it's only midnight. You're lame."

"I'm not lame," Harry said. "I'm tired."

"I'm tired too," Ginny lied. It was just an excuse to sleep near Harry.

"Well, I'm not," Dean said. "Let's play another game."

"Like what?" Neville asked.

"You ever play haha?" Said the shy Melissa.

"No..." Ron said, raising his eyebrow.

"Okay, this is how you play, we all lie down in a circle, and put each others head on the person next to you's stomach."

"Huh?" Ron was throughly confuzzled.

Melissa laid her head on Hermione's stomach, "Now, Ron, Hermione puts her head on your stomach."

"Oh,"comprehension dawned on Ron's face. He took his position under Hermione's head. Slowly, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Ginny, and Harry had all worked there heads into the circle.

"So what's next?" Dean asked.

"I start by saying 'ha,'" Melissa said. "And whoever's head is on my stomach, would say, 'ha ha'. Then whoever's head his on his stomach would say, 'ha ha ha.' and so on."

They played the game until they laughed themselves to sleep. It was so peaceful in the common room. The only light sources were the moon, that cast a mysterious shadow. And the fire, that cracked merrily, and gave the room a warm sort of glow. The moon was catching the falling snows' light, making it look slightly eerie.

Neville was first to rise that morning. He, being kind, sat, waiting for someone else to rise. Melissa rose next. She smiled at Neville, especially when she saw a piece of mistletoe (the non-singing kind), hanging over his head. She tip toed over to Neville's sleeping bag, then sat cross legged on the floor next to him. Melissa pointed up, and Neville blushed. She slowly leaned in for the kill. He didn't move away. Happy Neville had just received his first kiss.

Dean was the next to awake. He, however was a little less nice when waiting for people to wake up. He grabbed Seamus's pillow (from underneath his head) and banged it in his face. Seamus woke up with a start. "What did you do that for?" Seamus asked, rubbing his neck.

"Fun, mostly."

Stirred by the racket that Seamus and Dean made, Harry woke up, and poked Ron. "Spiders! They're attacking me, Hermione! Help!" Ron said in his sleep, before the laughing woke him up. "What did you do that for?"

"Fun, mostly."

"That was mean." Ron said.

"Yes, I know." Harry smirked.

Ron leaned over to Hermione's sleeping form. He bent over to kiss her awake. Harry, Seamus, and Dean teased him about it, being like from a fairy tale, and how girly fairy tales were. "Shut up," Ron muttered, ears turning red. He kissed her, and she blinked.

"You better be Ron, or I'll have to hurt you."

"It's Ron."

Hermione's face grew bright. "Good," she said. Then she grabbed Ron's shirt, and pulled him down into another kiss.

"Shall we start opening presents?" Harry asked to the crowd at large.

There were mixed mutters of, 'yes,' and, 'duh,' and some that just dove strait into the tree, eager to find a present. Harry was among one of those people. "Neville," he called through a haze of wrapping paper. "Present, it's from... from your mother."

Neville looked confused, but took the present none the less. The common room froze, and turned towards Neville. Neville slowly unwrapped the present to find a childish picture framed. However childish the drawing was, there was distinctively a boy, holding his two parents hand. Enclosed was a letter from the healer at St. Mungoes.

Dear Neville,

I showed Alice and Frank a picture of you. I told them that you were there son. The next day I brought in some drawing paper, and your mother drew this. It's amazing, even when some people are never going to recover, they will still remember things that are that important to them. I'm guessing she misses you. I know it was important for you to stay at school this Christmas, but please do come during Easter. Your father smiles whenever he sees your picture. I just know... They will get better in time. Love can help any damage.

Love

Healer Lauretta

Neville wiped a tear from his eye. Slowly, he stood up, and walked solemnly upstairs. There he wept on his bed.

"Neville?" A quiet voice asked.

"Go away," Neville said in a deadly whisper.

"What happened to your parents?" Melissa asked.

Neville didn't respond for a while. "Read the letter."

Melissa hastily went over to Neville's bed stand. Then sat on the bed, reading it. "Oh my God," Melissa whispered. "Oh Neville, I'm so sorry." She turned around, to see him sitting in fetal position. An urge was gripping her so hard she couldn't bare it. Melissa hugged him.

"It's okay," Neville said, pulling away. "It's not important."

"Neville," Melissa whispered. "It's all the importance in the world." She cupped his cheek in her hands. All she could see was his sad, tearful face. Neville didn't dare withdraw his gaze. Her eyes were like a pool of blue.

Melissa withdrew her gaze. "Where are you going?" Neville asked. He didn't want to be alone.

Melissa didn't respond. She simply took the picture his mother drew, and traced the crayon. She took down the picture of the boys in his year, and put up his mother's drawing. "Sometimes," Melissa said quietly. "Things change for the better." She walked back to Neville's bed and sat down next to him. And the two talked.

Meanwhile back in the common room, Dean, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Seamus (A/N: It's pronounced Shay-mus... long story...) were opening presents. Hermione had just unwrapped a pair of baby socks that the house elf had knit. Dean was unwrapping a Football jersey. Ron already had his mouth stuffed with assorted candies. Harry was fiddling around with a new dark detector. It seemed to have a malfunction.

"Hermione," Ron said thickly through his Bertie Botts. "Don't forget my present." He handed her a small package. Hermione carefully unwrapped the paper. She felt something bumpy and uneven. Confused, she asked Ron, "What is it?"

Ron was ready for the question. "It's a house-elf hat." He said excitly. "I knit it by hand."

"Oh Ron," Hermione said, turning to where his voice was, and hugging him tightly. He just cared so much that he was holding her. "Ron," she said, through her tears. "I got something for you too." She reached behind her, and pulled out a base.

Ron didn't understand. "It only has four strings..."

"Yes Ron, I know that. It's a base, it only has four strings." Ron still looked confused. "It's a lot like a guitar."

Comprehension dawned on Ron's face. "Oh, okay. I loved the guitar. Thanks Hermione."

Hermione's glow, the glow that S.P.E.W. inspired, returned. It shocked many, seeing her so happy. And she was happy. Nothing in the world could have made her happier. Besides if she wasn't blind, she wasn't pregnant, and she didn't have an abusive mother that was going to kill her when she got home. Indeed, she seemed to be floating the rest of the day. All day that is, until her bubble popped. The Evening Version of the Daily Prophet had arrived with the obituaries

END OF PART THREE