# Blind

Goldy

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 17/12/2005
Last Updated: 17/12/2005
Status: Completed

Hermione is convinced that Harry’s feelings for her aren’t real. Can he convince her otherwise?

## 1. untitled

Title: Blind

Author: Goldy

Pairing: Harry/Hermione

Spoilers: Books 1-6.

Summary: Based on a request from happy_daze: Hermione is convinced that Harry’s feelings for her aren’t real. Can he convince her otherwise?

Disclaimer: If you look at the pairing, you’ll be able to tell that this is certainly not mine.

Disclaimer 2: Um, yes. I borrowed the title from another awe-inspiring Lifehouse song, which is the perfect companion to this piece.

Word Count: 1, 623

Dedication: For happy_daze. Thanks for the inspiration.

After all this time
I never thought we'd be here
Never thought we'd be here
When my love for you was blind
But I couldn't make you see it
Couldn't make you see it
That I loved you more than you'll ever know

-Blind, by Lifehouse

***

Hedwig delivered the letter at breakfast, dropping it into Harry’s lap and pecking at his fingers until he opened it. He rolled his eyes and fed her some bacon before bending down to read it. She watched his face grow pale and his body tense, his fingers gripping the parchment until they turned white. Silently, he handed it over to her.

It’s Ginny.

She’s alive.

-R

She raised her head and met his eyes. Loud breathing reverberated through the kitchen—his or hers, she didn’t know.

“She’s alive,” he whispered, the words sounding forced. He tried to smile and couldn’t. “She’s—”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “That’s… that’s really wonderful, Harry. Fantastic. You should go to her. I’m sure she’s expecting it.”

He frowned, seeming befuddled by her words. She rose to leave the kitchen, stopping only when he seized her wrist.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he said, pinning her in place with his eyes.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

His fingers clenched tighter and she winced. “Ginny being alive… it does not change anything.”

“Of course it does,” Hermione said, pulling backwards until he released her. She wiped at her eyes. “It’s what you’ve been waiting for—I know it is. I always suspected I was living off borrowed time with you.”

“What?” he said. “Borrowed time—excuse me?”

“Oh, Harry, don’t…” she moaned.

“Don’t what?” he said hotly.

She gestured to the letter and kept her voice soft. “Ginny is alive, Harry. This changes everything.”

“That’s ridiculous! I’m happy Ginny’s alive, yeah, but that doesn’t mean we’re getting back together! I love you. I need you.”

“That’s just it, though, isn’t it?” Hermione said slowly. “You’ve always needed me, you’ve always had me.”

“And so what?”

He was getting angry now. Hedwig stopped munching her bacon, turning her wide eyes on Hermione in accusation.

“It’s only natural that…” Hermione paused and took a breath, “that… you would confuse friendship with something… else.”

Harry’s eyes widened and his mouth bobbed open. Without waiting for an answer, Hermione moved towards the door.

The knob wouldn’t turn.

“This isn’t funny, Harry,” she said without turning. “Let me out.”

“I think not.”

“Fine! Alohamora!”

Nothing happened. She gave the knob one last futile twist before turning back around.

“Is that really what you think?” Harry demanded. “That I would use you that way?”

Hermione sighed. “Of course not. That’s not in your nature. Listen, Harry… you were distraught, you were lonely, it’s perfectly natural that you would turn to me. I don’t blame you for it. But now that Ginny’s alive—”

“Stop saying that!” Harry said, voice rising. Startled, she shut her mouth, her teeth gnashing together. “You’re being stupid—yeah, you’re being stupid, alright? What you and I… what we are… it’s not about Ginny. It’s about us and I’m perfectly able to separate it, thank you.”

He said the last bit stiffly, daring her to challenge him with his eyes. “Harry…”

“Fine!” he snapped, waving his wand at the door. She heard the lock click. “Get out.”

“What?”

“You heard me, I said get out.”

“But… I don’t…”

“GET OUT.”

The door burst open, nearly rocking off its hinges.

“Alright, then,” Hermione whispered.

She heard Hedwig giving a plaintive hoot as she walked away.

***

They never defined it.

Ginny disappeared, Ron was in shambles, and Hermione was the only thing holding them together.

On the first night, she helped him to bed after he drank too much firewhiskey and vomited all over the washroom floor. She lay down next to him and told him it was okay and it wasn’t his fault. He fell asleep with one arm wrapped around her waist.

On the second night, she walked in on him destroying the living room. He tore up the cushions and tossed them into the fire. They had a terrible row. Ron left in the morning.

On the third night, he kissed her in the hallway in front of Mrs. Black’s Portrait. Her fingers dug into his shoulder blade and she made little crooning noises that drove him mad. Her tongue swept along his bottom lip and her hair brushed against the back of his knuckles.

He lost track of time and sense and reason. The only thing he knew was that he had failed Ginny and he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Hermione already knew. He didn’t have to explain what—who he was to her. The kiss was real. It was painful. It was like everything he was had been leading up to it. The world was ending around them and there he was, his tongue melding with hers, his hands tugging at her clothes.

I didn’t kiss her because of Ginny.

He kissed her because she was still her, still Hermione, and as long as he had her, he could get past Ginny—and past the next thing, and the thing after that. As long as he still had her.

They never defined it.

They kissed in stolen moments and hidden corners. They whispered together and met each other’s eyes and said a thousand things he couldn’t ever remember.

They had a connection that frightened him. Now that he realized it, he couldn’t let it go. He wouldn’t let Ron have her. He could hardly stand to be away from her. He marked her with his hand on her knee under the table, his teeth nibbling against her throat, her books piled in a corner of his room.

All the small things defined them.

***

“Hermione, let me in… let me in, Hermione… please…”

He gave the door one last desperate punch, his knuckles splitting against the wood and spraying blood on the floor.

“Fuck.”

He was terrified.

Buggered this up, have you? This isn’t like leaving for Ginny for her own good, this is you and Hermione, the one thing in your life that meant every-bloody-thing.

And the same thought kept coming back to him.

How could she not know? How could she not see it? It was there, every day, even Ron knew. They couldn’t stop it if they tried. Things were beyond their control.

“Hermione!” he yelled, kicking at her door. “Let me in, for crying out loud!”

Nothing.

He slumped against the door, resting his weight on the doorknob.

I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?

Are you really? I know all about you, of course—

Harry straightened and renewed his pounding with more vehemence. “Hermione, listen to me, alright? I was upset when Ginny disappeared—yes, I was, I was upset, you saw me, but I lived. You know why? Not because we had a few bloody snogs, but because you were there! I had YOU. I—can’t—do—this! Not without you, Hermione. It’s not about friendship or—or lust or whatever-the-bleeding-else! It’s… it’s about us, and what we are… together….”

He leaned on the doorknob again, but this time it turned and he nearly fell flat on his face as the door swung open. He heard a large sniff and barely had time to take a bracing breath before Hermione barreled into him, sending them both careening backwards into the hall.

She had a worn tissue clutched in her fingers. Her cheeks were tracked with tears. She squeezed him until he thought he might burst so he closed his eyes and breathed her in.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, alright? I should’ve told you ages ago… what happened that night wasn’t about Ginny. I reckon I needed to feel as close to you as possible.”

She pulled away to wipe at her eyes. “Why?”

“Why do you think?” he said softly, wiping at her tears with his thumbs. “That night was many things for me, Hermione. As soon as I kissed you, I felt like it was the end. For both of us. Ginny and I had broken up long before she disappeared. Her being alive doesn’t change that.”

Her chin trembled and she gave a brave nod. “I know,” she warbled. “I don’t know why I….”

She trailed off and threw herself into his arms again, her chin resting on his shoulder. Her hair mashed up against his face.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I was so sure I was about to lose you. I didn’t know what else to do. I was—”

“Scared,” he finished. “I understand.”

She pressed her face to the crook of his neck, her hands fisting up against his shirt. “It’s not an entirely rational thing we have, I don’t think,” she whispered. “It’s like being trapped in a way.”

“In a way,” he said, rubbing her back. “But… it’s also a little bit like being freed, wouldn’t you say?”

She tilted her head back to kiss the corner of his mouth. “In a way.”

“In a bad way?”

She traced his lips with her fingers. Her eyes panned back and forth over his face as she thought. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “We always have to remember, Harry, that we don’t come first.”

“There’s Voldemort, yeah…” Harry said. “But there’s always going to be something when it comes to me. It’s who I am… but—but… it’s not the only thing I am.”

She cupped his cheek and gave him a gentle kiss, lingering as long as possible. “I’m sorry for earlier,” she said. “I’ve never been much good with emotion, I’m afraid.”

“That’s alright.” He paused. “Hermione?”

“Yes?”

“I never loved Ginny—at least, not in any way that was real.”

She didn’t reply. She didn’t need to.

And they stayed like that, her head pillowed on his shoulder, his hand moving up and down her back. They didn’t talk. They didn’t kiss.

They only held on.