Ill Love

Ill Love

By Lannereddy aka Reddy

Disclaimer: None of these characters (except for Bridget) belong to me. They belong to J.K. Rowling.

Summary: Hermione has to take care of her fiancé, Harry, after he is cursed and left to live his life with a critical condition.

Hermione slowly sipped her coffee as she walked from the lounge area into her kitchen. Her soft and fuzzy Barney slippers were sliding gracefully across the smooth and polished wooden floor. Her eyes had a calm and peaceful glazed look about them and as for the way she was humming to herself, she must have been on top of the world.

She started when she heard a flutter of wings and saw Hedwig flapping into her kitchen with a roll of parchment attached to her foot with a black ribbon. Hermione’s face fell and all the blood drained from it as she dropped her mug and it shattered on her floor, the black coffee spilling everywhere. She fumbled about, as her breaths taken in where ragged gasps, to untie the black ribbon. As she finally got it undone, she unrolled the parchment and read.

H, Come now! It’s Harry.

-Draco

Hermione dropped the parchment and it was if she was swimming through water. Everything was in slow motion as she bolted from the kitchen, as fast as her slippers would allow her, and failed to notice the black and silver envelope sitting in her owl tray from the Ministry of Magic.

Dear Ms. Granger,

We regret to inform you that your fiancé, Mr. Harry James Potter, has been seriously wounded in battle against the remaining Death Eaters from the defeated Dark Lord’s league. He is currently at the St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies undergoing treatment. We are very sorry.

Hermione – We don’t know how it happened. Draco is going by to collect Harry from the hospital. Meet them at Harry’s flat. Owl me if you need anything.

Alicia Spinnet

Auror Department

Ministry of Magic, United Kingdom.

Hermione ran upstairs and grabbed her wand off her bedside table. She did not even notice that the tears had started and were leaving stains on her usually rosy cheeks. She swung her wand arm wildly and her room erupted into chaos, clothes, books, shoes, toiletries and sheets of parchment along with quills zoomed all over the place as they were packed into her suitcase. She rummaged around her rubbish bin and pulled out a blown light bulb.

“Portus.” Her voice came out dry and raspy.

She grabbed hold of her suitcase and was gone within seconds.

Draco Malfoy was leaning against the wall and staring into space when Hermione arrived in the sitting room of Harry’s flat. She dropped her suitcase and Draco walked over to her, embracing her.

“What happened?” she asked softly, her eyes darting across the ceiling. “What happened to him?”

Draco stepped back and rubbed her shoulders comfortingly. “Sit down love.”

Hermione did not protest as she reached blindly for the sofa and sat gingerly. Draco pulled up a chair and sat beside her.

“There was a battle at Dover…”

“Dover?”

Draco nodded feverishly. “Yes Dover. Now, don’t say anything until I’m through.”

Hermione shook her head as more tears ran down her face. She placed her head in her hands and rocked slowly.

“I’m sorry,” she choked. “But when I saw the black ribbon, I have not…”

“Shhh.” Draco tried to relax her as he rubbed her back. “I only used it to prepare you before you got here.”

Hermione shrugged his hand off and nodded, folding her arms in her lap. Draco took that as a sign to continue.

“Do you remember that tip you had received?”

Hermione nodded, clearly remembering the day she had been talking to Alicia Spinnet about her new assignment when the tip arrived. A man by the name of Julius McKenzie had come in from Scotland with news regarding the latest stir with the Death Eaters. The Death Eaters refused to let go after their master perished at the hands of Harry Potter eleven years ago during Harry’s last year at Hogwarts. Julius, who was well acquainted with the Aurors, wanted to meet them at Dover. He would find them, he had written.

“It was a trap.”

Hermione gasped and the tears came again.

“There was the whole league of Death Eaters there. They just opened wand fire on us. They were not only using forbidden curses, but curses that make limbs tear apart, that cause disembowelment.” Draco looked away and rubbed his face. He looked exhausted. “They sent a disembowelment curse at Harry…”

Hermione broke down immediately and Draco’s head snapped up to look at her. His eyes widened with realization.

“No! No! Harry didn’t get it! It was Ron! Ron took the curse for Harry.”

He stopped as Hermione’s eyes widened in fright.

“Is Ron okay?”

Draco shook his head solemnly and Hermione fidgeted nervously with a loose thread on her skirt and shook her head disbelievingly.

“Harry saw what happened and ran down the Death Eater in a rage. Another Death Eater nearby saw this and sent a curse at Harry, knocking him unconscious. When he woke up…when he…when he woke up…”

Hermione glared at him. “What? When he woke up what?”

Draco’s jaw clenched and he whispered, “He was blind.”

***

Hermione stood outside Harry’s bedroom door, unable to move, unable to lift her arm and use it open the door to see the love of her life, her fiancée. She ran upstairs to go see him and hug him, to reassure him, but she could not, not when she needed reassurance herself. She sighed and turned away, her fingers at her temples trying to relieve the stress. Then as if inspiration took hold of her, she flung open the door and it hit the wall with a resounding bang.

“No! Too loud! Who’s there?”

Harry was lying on his bed, crying. His hands went to cover his ears and he immediately curled up in a fetal position. He was wearing a white vest which was soaked through with his perspiration, and his boxer shorts.

Hermione stood there in shock, scared stiff as she watched him. He tentatively removed his hands and looked around, blindly. Suddenly, he sat up and scrambled backwards, hitting his head on the headboard and he howled in pain. Hermione ran two steps towards him, but then he shouted.

“Who is there?” He clutched at his arms and his face crumpled as he cried out tearfully. “Don’t hurt me! Please! WHO IS THERE?”

“It’s me!” Hermione cried back, unable to hold back the sobs. She continued her run and Harry’s eyes opened in fright.

“No! No! You can’t! Whoever you are! Don’t look at me! Don’t see me like…like…DON’T Look at me!” His hands scratched at the headboard, his eyes focused downwards, unseeing and blank.

Hermione climbed on to the bed, sobbing and grabbed at Harry before he could move away from her. Reflexes took over and he pushed her off him and she hit the floor. She lay there for a few moments in shock and then loud wracking sobs took over her body.

“Oh Harry,” she cried. “It’s me...Hermione.”

Harry clutched at his hair and raised himself on to his knees. He stretched out his arms and felt the air for her.

“Where…where are you?” He cried.

Hermione got up as fast as she could and reached out to grab Harry’s hands which held on to hers tightly. She pulled him and he turned to face her.

“Oh baby,” she whispered chokingly. “My baby.”

She moved his arms to wrap around her waist and she held his head to her chest tightly. Harry tried to say something, but he was sobbing too much for his words to be understood.

“Shh,” Hermione cooed. “I love you and I am here for you.”

He smothered his face among her breasts and cried and cried.

***

Harry eventually went to sleep in Hermione’s arms. She tucked him and made sure he was warm before she left the room, leaving the door open. Instead of finding Draco, as she had expected, she found Ginny Weasley. Ginny was sitting nervously on the settee, biting her nails. She jumped out when she heard Hermione coming down the stairs.

Hermione stood there and looked at her for a long while before she ran into Ginny’s arms and broke down for the thousandth time that day.

“What is he doing?” Ginny asked quietly with a slight frown on her face.

Hermione backed away and stood with an arm on her waist and one at her forehead.

“He’s sleeping now. Ginny…went I first saw him…he looked crazy. He looked like he had lost his sanity. He was sweating and crying and he was so scared…”

Ginny’s hand flew to her mouth in horror and she too started to cry.

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know!” Hermione cried as she started to pace. “Harry is fucking blind! I love him, but he’s fucking blind!”

“You’re not…not going to leave him are you?” Ginny asked as her eyes followed Hermione.

Hermione stopped and stood there stiffly. “No! I can’t. I love him too much. But…our future…together…is not the same.”

***

Harry was awake as he listened to Hermione’s and Ginny’s conversation downstairs. He felt the hope drain out him and boy under the cupboard return when he heard Hermione say that he was fucking blind. He knew she did not mean it in a bad way, but he could not help thinking that it was probably best if she left. What kind of future could he give her?

His eyes fluttered close and sleep overtook him once more.

***

It was nine o’clock in the evening and Harry had been sleeping for eight hours. Hermione had a lot of books spread out around her as she researched and tried to figure out what could have caused Harry’s blindness. Her bushy hair was pinned up in a messy pony tail and her glasses were slipping down her nose. She leaned back and spread her arms as she stretched and thought that she may cook something for Harry so when he woke up he would not be hungry.

She rummaged through the refrigerator and saw the usual bachelor groceries; eggs, bread, butter, milk, beer, orange juice, ham, lettuce and tomato. She whipped up an omelet with some toast and had just put a heating charm on it when she heard a slow rumbling then a tumble and thud. She stopped for a moment, listening, and then she ran outside gasping when she found Harry sprawled out at the foot of the stairs. She ran over to him and dropped to the floor beside him, gripping his shoulders, tightly, as if to stop the shaking of her own hands.

“Harry? Are you all right?”

Harry grimaced and shrugged her off. He could not see the hurt expression on her face as he struggled to sit up.

“I am as fucking all right as I’ll ever fucking be.”

Harry was disheveled, his disobedient hair standing up more than usual. That was when Hermione noticed that he was not wearing his glasses. His eyes looked so naked, the green stood in sharp relief against the purple hue of his eyelids and the bloodshot red.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, tearing her eyes away from him. “I heard you fall…so I came.”

Harry’s back was turned to her, but upon hearing her speak, he turned his head to listen.

“Why haven’t you left yet?” He asked miserably.

Hermione frowned. “Why would I leave you?”

Harry gritted his teeth. “I heard yours and Ginny’s conversation. I expected you to be gone by now.”

Hermione gasped and sat there still. “Harry, you can’t expect me to be thrilled that you’ve lost your sight! There is no way on earth I’d be happy about any of this! I am angry…”

Harry spun around and faced the kitchen door, thinking he was focused on her.

“You made it sound as if it was my fault that I went and lost my sight!”

Hermione bit on her fist as a sob broke out. Harry’s anger quickly evaporated as he heard the body wracking sobs issued from her, and his mouth turned down as misery took him over.

“Harry…I LOVE you! I am angry and pissed at whatever twisted fate is out to make our lives so difficult! But don’t you ever think…” She leaned over and took hold of her face in her hands, “that I would ever leave you! You are my best friend, my lover, my soulmate and we are getting married. I will take care of you and help you overcome this! You are mine to love as I am yours and we will work through this…together!” she managed to choke out.

Tears were leaking from Harry’s eyes and he lifted his hand to touch Hermione’s face. She glanced over and saw it moving around in circles and she guided it to caress her cheek. He then lifted his other hand and it found its way on its own to her other cheek. He exhaled as his thumbs gently brushed over cheekbones and nose. She closed her eyes as his forefingers passed over her lashes. A sob escaped him and Hermione’s eyes fluttered open to see him staring into space, his eyes held wonder and awe and his lips were slightly parted. His tongue darted out to moisten them and he gasped.

“You are so beautiful. You’re just as how I remember you.”

Hermione smiled tearfully and she guided his fingers to her lips.

“You’re smiling,” he whispered.

“Mhmm.”

“What are you wearing?” he asked a bit shyly.

“A light green cotton skirt and a white tank top.” His hands ventured down to her neck and she closed her eyes in appreciation as she arched herself to feel him.

“My hair is pinned up…” she stopped as Harry moved his hands to the back of her head and pulled the band out of her hair, allowing her thick brown locks to fall loosely to her waist.

He opened his legs and Hermione pushed him back gently until his back rested against the wall. She settled herself in between his legs, her legs over his as he continued touching her.

“I want to feel your breasts,” he said softly, almost reverently.

Hermione frowned a little. “I don’t think that is such a good idea Harry. You need your rest…”

“Just!” he cut her off. “Just let me…feel them.”

Hermione guided his hands to the end of her top and he slowly pushed it up and off her body. Her nipples hardened as soon as Harry’s hands touched her stomach. She controlled her breathing as gently moved his hands upwards, grazing her skin with his finger tips.

“I feel the curve,” he said in a rush. Hermione waited.

His thumbs found her nipples and he rubbed. He continued rubbing, more frantic as moments went by and he heard no sound from her.

“I won’t stop until you give in.” he said.

Hermione gritted her teeth against the feeling between her legs. “We shouldn’t Harry.”

He rubbed harder and Hermione’s eyes widened as she felt his growth gently push against her. Hermione reached up and moved his hands away. He wrapped his arms around her waist and used wand less magic to remove the remaining clothes on both of them. In an instant, upon freedom from the restraint of his pants, his member slid inside of Hermione.

The warm plate of food was forgotten.

***

Instead of waking up curved against Harry’s body, her back to him, with him curled protectively around her; Hermione woke up with her body cocooned around Harry’s with his head nestled in her breasts. Somehow she had guided him to bed after their lovemaking at the foot of the stairs and this was the first time since she heard the news that she allowed herself to dwell on Ron’s death. She vaguely wondered if she would ever stop crying as more tears ran down her face. This led to the moment when she realized that hers and Harry’s relationship had evolved into something deeper and blind to regular sight.

He had reached behind him to rub her hip comfortingly.

“I know sweetheart. I miss him too.”

***

Weeks had gone by and it was now July 31^st. Hermione was preparing The Burrow for Harry’s 29^th birthday and it was going to be a surprise party. Fred and George were with him at his flat keeping his company until it was time to bring him over. This would be the first time he was leaving the flat since he became blind and Hermione could not have asked for a better opportunity to do so where the environment was familiar.

A couple of hours later, Hermione flooed Fred and George and told them it was time. A few minutes later, Fred came through the fire by himself and called Hermione over.

“He won’t come,” he whispered.

Hermione frowned in confusion. “Why?”

“He says he is not leaving unless you say it’s okay and unless you’re there.”

Hermione bit her lip and nodded before patting Fred’s shoulder. “Thanks. I’ll just apparate there.”

Hermione popped into the living room and saw Harry sitting stiffly on the settee with George. George looked up and saw her and apparated with a wave. She walked over and sat beside Harry.

“So…what’s up?”

Harry shrugged, the miserable slump in his shoulders more prominent than ever. “I hate this.”

“I know you do love,” she said as she reached over and held his hand.

“I am scared to go over and have the Weasleys see me like this.”

Hermione sighed and kissed his cheek. “You look handsome.”

He turned his head to face her. “What am I wearing?”

She smiled and snuggled up to him, his arm pulling her in tighter.

“A beautiful green silk shirt and neatly ironed black trousers with your black doc martens shined to perfection.”

Harry smiled. “I must look like a hottie.”

Hermione giggled. “You’re MY hottie, Potter…and you’d do best to keep that in mind.”

Harry reached up to push his glasses up his nose, but realized they were not there. He sighed.

“I can still feel them you know? I need to remember I have no use for them.”

Hermione turned his face so she could look into his eyes.

“Yes, but I can see your beautiful and bright green eyes, like jewels, shining every time I look at you. Your glasses hid those, and now…they are so beautiful…emerald. I can see your soul without having to look through a window. Your soul is so precious Harry, a jewel like the emerald. It’s there without it being behind your glasses. It’s the most beautiful thing in this world that I have ever seen.”

Harry’s eyes watered. “I’m ready.”

Hermione nodded and took his hand. “Ready to apparate?”

He nodded and closed his eyes as he and Hermione disappeared together.

***

It was Christmas, two years after he lost his sight. Harry was walking through the cobbled stone streets in Hogsmeade with a white cane. He loved to floo over from Edinburgh just to walk around while Hermione was at work. They had got married in a small ceremony in Aberdeen last Christmas and moved from London to be somewhere quieter where they could one day start a family. She flooed to London everyday to finish up her remaining paperwork and complete her mission regarding the illegal smuggling of potions, before she resigned from her job. They had received offers from Hogwarts to start teaching there the following school year and they had thought it was a great way for them to be and work together. He would be teaching History of Magic, as he could not teach anything practical, and take over from Professor McGonagall as Head of Gryffindor once she retired at the end of the year. Hermione would be teaching potions and Professor Snape finally got the Defense against the Dark Arts teaching position he had desired all these years.

Harry refused to wear dark glasses to ‘darken his vision anymore,’ as he had put it, when he went out in public. He was wearing a black coat underneath his cloak and every time he walked down these streets, he could hear the younger children whispering among themselves.

“There he is! They say he comes here to eat the children!”

“Oh no! Should we leave?”

“Oh shut up! He’s blind can’t you tell you nitty brain?”

Harry cleared his throat and held his head even higher as he moved slowly through the village, gently tapping his cane in front of him.

“Good morning Mr. Potter!”

Harry tentatively raised a hand in greeting and stared straight ahead as he carried on.

“Oi! Harry!”

Harry tilted his head this and that way as he glanced around in confusion, then made a decision to turn right, tapping his cane in front of him as he moved.

“Hello?” Harry called out.

“Excuse me…oops, sorry sir…” Harry heard shuffling and a box of bells hitting the ground.

“Harry Potter! Oh my God…”

“Seamus?”

“Yeh…oh…shit.”

“Harry frowned and reached out a hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeh…yeh. I didn’t know that…that you…”

Harry smiled weakly, hoping to reassure the man with the unmistakable sorrow in his voice. “Uh, well yes. I am blind. Got into a bit of a spat with the Death Eaters and they cursed me to a lifetime of darkness!”

Harry raised his arms to emphasize the sarcastic grandeur of his situation and ended up whacking one of the children, who was talking about him, in the head.

“Ouch!”

Harry spun around and searched the air for a moment then looked down. “Sorry!” he called out. “I’m so sorry!”

More than one children screamed and he heard the pattering of little feet as they ran off.

Seamus stood there in confusion. “Are they scared of you?”

Harry chuckled bitterly. “Yeh, well. I eat them, so I don’t blame them you see.”

***

It was just after Hermione’s 33^rd birthday when she had found out she was two months pregnant with Harry’s child. Madam Pomfrey told her it was a girl. Harry and Hermione had finally settled in at Hogwarts and classes were going smoothly. Professor Dumbledore had taught Harry Braille along with a spell that Harry could use to change his students’ writing and tests into Braille. It was not as much trouble for Harry to settle in as he and Hermione thought it would be. If he got lost, the portraits would guide him back or one of the Hogwarts ghosts. Peeves had even taken to tugging Harry along through the corridors if he happened to come across the lost professor. Harry could hear the staircases gearing to move before they even started, so he knew not to get on. The students were also very cooperative and moved aside when they saw Professor Potter coming through with his cane.

Harry was standing behind Hermione in their kitchenette rubbing her shoulders and back as she cringed in pain. The baby was due any day now. She could not stop sweating and she felt the non-stop movements of the restless child.

“Oh Harry,” she moaned.

“What is it love?” he answered softly.

“Fuck me.”

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise and he felt the temperature in the room rise steadily. The command had been so throaty and was enough for him to want to spin his very pregnant, but undeniably sexy wife around, and have his way with her on top of the kitchen sink. “The baby…”

“That’s the whole point. Fuck me so I can get this baby out! She won’t stop moving.”

As hard as it was for Harry to contain himself, he reached around her and rubbed her stomach soothingly. She leaned back against him as she felt the baby calm.

“She knows her daddy’s hands,” he said with a smile.

Hermione sighed in relief and a smile crossed her features too. “Of course she knows her…ah…ah…”

She jerked away from Harry as she bent forward suddenly. Harry heard liquid splash and felt some on his bare feet.

“What happened?” he asked in shock.

His answer was Hermione’s scream and ragged breathing.

“The baby!” she cried out. “Oh my God! I’m in la….ahh…bour.”

And then she was gone. He heard her moving around and as well as the chairs. He walked around, feeling the air and squinting in concentration as he tried to find her.

“Where are you?”

“Harry…help…I am in so much pain!” she cried.

He then heard a thud.

“Hermione?” he called out, feeling along the counter top and knocking over glasses which fell to the floor and shattered. He stepped on a shard and cried out in pain before swiftly moving away and tripping over a fallen chair. He fell and did not bother to get up as he crawled on his knees to find his wife.

“Hermione?”

No answer.

***

“She has black hair and blue eyes which I am sure will turn green soon.”

Harry chuckled tiredly and rested his head against Hermione’s, his eyes closed.

Hermione worried her lip and reached up to lay her hand on his cheek.

“I am sorry I made you fret.”

Harry smiled and groped around for a bit before taking hold of her hand to kiss it. “You fainted, you couldn’t help it. The pain was just too strong.”

“But I let you down and I made you panic and I…”

“Don’t,” he said softly upon hearing her voice crack. “I love you and it was fine. I got Madam Pomfrey and she fixed you up. Everything will be okay. We have a healthy girl and she is beautiful. We are blessed.”

Hermione stared at him in awe. “You’re right. We are blessed.”

***

“Daddy catch me!”

Harry spun around. “No! Bridget no!”

But it was too late, and Harry ended up feeling his way along the carpet to find his crying four year old girl.

Hermione rushed into the room. “What happened?”

Harry was rocking his daughter back and forth, tears streaming from his own eyes, as her crying hushed.

“Daddy didn’t catch me,” she wailed, her brown eyes sparkling with tears and her lips in a pout.

“Oh,” Hermione soothed and kneeled beside her. “Remember what we spoke about Bridget. Daddy can’t see, so he can’t see when you’re jumping off the bed and into his arms.”

“Oh.” Comprehension dawned on Bridget’s four year old face. She looked up at her daddy who was sitting there, still, with his arms loosely around her and tear stains on his cheeks.

“Sorry daddy,” she said. “I forgot.”

Harry gently smiled and felt around for her face so he could kiss her forehead.

“That’s okay Tinkerbell. I’m sorry I couldn’t catch you.”

Bridget kissed her father’s nose and bounded up before running out of the room. Hermione watched her leave then turned to Harry who was sad all of a sudden.

“It’s not your fault.” She said.

Harry sighed. “I know.”

***

It was Bridget’s first year at Hogwarts when it happened. Harry was now well acquainted with his life as a blind man and was as fully independent as he used to be. He had walked into Hermione’s office in the dungeon and smelled a pungent odor. His face squirmed in disgust.

“What are you brewing?”

“Nothing anymore. It’s ready.”

“What is?”

“Lean back.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

He did and Hermione leaned over with small silver ladle, no bigger than her forefinger and poured two drops of her potion into each of Harry’s eyes. He blinked in surprise then suddenly shut his eyes tightly. He cried out in pain and Hermione held on to him until the pain subsided. Her face was awash with nerves, pale, yet hopeful.

“Open them,” she said.

Harry blinked and closed his eyes again.

“Too bright,” he rasped out.

A bright grin spread across Hermione’s face and tears ran down her cheeks. She let go of Harry and fumbled for her wand, all the while not taking her eyes off him. She flicked it and all the lights went out.

“Open them,” she said again.

Harry did and this time he cried out in surprise. He got up and tilted for a bit. Hermione reached out to him and helped him steady himself.

“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly.

“Yes,” he said and gulped, “just dizzy.”

“Okay, are you ready for the lights?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

She flicked her wand again and this time, one candle came on.

Harry screamed with joy, lifting his wife and spinning her around.

“Oh my God! I can see! I can see you!”

He broke down and started crying along with Hermione. He grazed his fingers across her skin, mentally matching the feel with the sight. He revered every smile line, the graceful curve of her nose, the eyelashes against her cheeks, and the softness of her lips; and as they cried for a long time in each other’s arms, Hermione allowed the candles to come back on, one by one.

Harry stared at her with his red rimmed eyes and gasped, his face crumpling in disbelief and pure, untarnished happiness.

“You are so beautiful. You have some grey hair, but it’s silvery like a unicorn. Your eyes…they are pools that comfort me. And now I can see into the depths of your soul…oh beautiful, your eyes hold so much more wisdom than when I last saw you. ”

“Which was…?”

“Sixteen years ago.”

Hermione’s bottom lip trembled. “That spark is back…the spark that left your eyes all those years ago.”

Harry smiled, but then he frowned.

“How did you know and how…?

Hermione held up a hand and he stopped talking.

“I was researching on a curse that could have cause this blindness, but I couldn’t find it. I had given up on the research and devoted myself to you and helping you make the best out of the situation. I had lost hope that you would make a full recovery and I was just thankful and prayed everyday, thanking God that I you had not died, and you were alive, with me…until that day before your birthday. Remember that surprise party we had for you at the Burrow just after you went blind?”

Harry nodded, afraid to speak.

“I told you how green your eyes were. I could hear the pieces sliding around and clicking as they found where they belonged. Your blindness was starting to make sense in a way, and I figured that I was taking the wrong route all that time. They, your eyes, didn’t lose their colour or anything. They looked as if you could see, not the typical cloudy look. I did more research upon blindness and magic. All that time wasted, I was looking for a counter curse for something like the blindness curse used on dragons. What I should have been looking for was a potion that causes masked blindness. The curse had no effect on you except to create the poison. I found this old potions book at the ministry that had an antidote for the poison that was making you blind.”

Harry frowned in shock. “Poison?”

“The curse that you were cursed with, warped the sight cells in your brain as well as the muscles in your eye and your retina. They were made to secrete these liquids that mixed and created a poison, like a potion, to cause you to lose your sight.”

Harry gasped.

“It takes twenty years before you go truly blind. You were not blind all this time. The poison has twenty years before it takes effect and then there is no turning back.”

Hermione looked deeply into his eyes and smiled bitterly.

“It took me the better part of six years to get the ingredients from the centaurs and have the Bloody Baron advise me on the potion making. It is an ancient poison he would know about. Then it takes ten years to brew and it finished today. It repairs all the damage and kills the poisonous cells.”

There was silence for a while, and then Harry spoke, his voice, the steadiest it had been since this revelation.

“Thank you.”

Hermione shook her head. “No…thank you,” she placed her palms flat against his cheeks, “for the best sixteen years of my life. I got to know you on such a deeper and truer level and now, we have the rest of our lives to see the fruits of our labour.”

They kissed and Harry kept his eyes open the whole time. When they broke away, Hermione took his hand.

“Are you ready to meet everyone?”

Harry nodded. “But first,” he said, “let me see…let me see my daughter for the first time.”

Hermione nodded. “Okay.”

They walked out of her office, leaving the white cane behind.

*The End*

Ill Love Part II

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter characters. They belong to J.K Rowling

Summary: The roles have been reversed.

The things in life that people take for granted are always the things that matter the most. The human race comes up with the greatest incidents of irony…or is it fate just giving people a hard time? Harry had become more philosophical during the years of blindness than he had ever been in his life and as he grew older and was now sixty three years old, more things made bitter sense.

Irony. How ironic is it that he would be taking care of the strongest woman he knew after she devoted sixteen years of her life to caring for him?

Harry inhaled deeply and could almost smell the soft scent of the roses blooming in their garden. It was four o’clock in the afternoon and he was silently pushing Hermione, in a wheelchair, through the gardens; taking the cobblestone pathways that led them through beautiful, wrought-iron arches with interwoven ivory; and by the pond where the frogs sat still on the lily pads. He was taking her to the fountains, which held special meaning to them. A vast area of their garden was filled with elaborate fountains that had statues of people or stone carvings representing memorable occasions in Harry and Hermione’s history.

They strolled past the fountain where a statue of Professor Dumbledore stood; his cemented robes were swept around him as he held his wand in the act of conjuring. They carried on past Hermione’s own parents and then Harry’s. They watched a couple of house elves tend to the flowers around a hippogriff before carrying on to the final destination.

Harry had received word that morning that the final fountain was completed and he should go by to check it and make sure it was perfect before the preservation charm was cast. He waited until Hermione woke up from her deep slumber in the afternoon before taking her with him. He had it done for her as a gift.

The creaking of the wheels stopped as Harry let down the brake on the wheel chair and stepped forward to open the gate. He pushed them forward with a mild grunt and the gates swung open with a grandeur that made Harry swallow hard. His knowing that this fountain was the last one to be made, made him a bit nostalgic and sad. He heard a click and then the wheels start to move as Hermione wheeled herself to be beside him. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with compassion and she smiled weakly. She took his hand in hers and slowly raised it to her lips, leaving the soft imprint of her love on the hand that wipes her tears, caresses her skin and helps her up when she has fallen.

Harry grazed his fingers across her cheek and her eyes closed as she sighed.

The rest of the walk held a deep and profound connection, especially considering that Hermione kept her hand on his the whole time as he held tightly on to the bars, his knuckles turning white. Then at last they were there.

Hermione gasped and broke down, stretching her arms forward, embracing the taller than life-size figures of her and Harry. Her eyes clouded over with happiness as they took in the beautiful and graceful image of them as a young couple dancing at the ministry ball…

Harry sat there moodily, snapping at every woman that came over to ask him if he would dance with her. He considered this the worst birthday of his life. Every year the ministry held a ball in honour of the defeat of the dark Lord Voldemort on Harry’s birthday. He turned twenty four that day and with the way his old professors came to check up on him, he felt like he was eleven. He was in no mood for the antics of the hypocritical Ministry of Magic, at least not while Cornelius Fudge was in power. He wanted nothing more than to grab on to the bow tie of his tuxedo, rip it off and strangle Fudge with it.

He glanced around the Warlocks’ Society Ballroom and shook his head in wonder. He could not believe that the dress code for this ball was of the late Victorian and Edwardian periods. He was even more amazed that the guests were able to come up with ball gowns and tuxedos that fell within the dress code category. The ladies wore wide robes to accommodate for the extravagant gowns, and upon arrival, left them at the door with the wizard in charge of coat check. The men wore their robes over their tuxedos, but he had seen a few throw them off as the night wore on. He had thought himself lucky that Madam Malkin was able to sew his for him, but then he figured that she had received a lot of business because of this function. He watched, with a frown on his face, all the girls in their colourful frocks swaying this way and moving to the rhythm of the fox trot. He sipped his merlot and winced when he saw Ron step back and accidentally stepped on Padma Patil’s moss green gown. Harry closed his eyes against the image of a huge tear and the piece of discarded fabric lying on the floor.

“How dare you Ronald Weasley!” she shrieked, and bolted off the dance floor in tears, leaving her date glowering at Ron.

“Excuse me Harry.”

Harry groaned inwardly at the soft voice that interrupted his line of thinking and raised his head to meet the gaze of the one and only Cho Chang. She stared back at him and he felt no inclination to make the first move. When she realized that he was not going to speak, she cleared her throat nervously and smiled flirtatiously.

“Will you dance with me?”

Harry gave her black and white dress a once over before snorting.

“Go away Chang.”

Cho took serious offense to this and reached up to adjust her excessive feathery hat with an air of snobbery before leaving him with a cutting remark.

“You are nothing but a sexually frustrated played up hero.”

Harry felt a blush rise to his cheeks, but did not look at her until she left.

“Drop dead,” he mumbled under his breath.

Imagine his surprise when her shoe heel broke off and she fell to the ground in an ungraceful heap. Everyone ignored her as she turned bright red.

It was 10 o’clock and Harry had not moved from his perch within the last two hours. Until…

The doors opened and in stepped the most gorgeous sight to grace the company of the guests. His jaw dropped as a beautiful woman stepped in, dressed in long flowing midnight blue gown that extended behind her and swept the ground. She wore a corset like everyone else. Her sleeves were not puffed like all the girls, but had a chiffon pouf with a beaded fringe. There were crystal gems all over her skirting and thinned out further up the dress. There was also an extremely sheer and thin material that layered the dress. She wore a black velvet cloak with a hood and removed it as soon as she came in, smoothing back her hair. Her hair was wrapped in a huge bun that had thin silver vines intertwined in it. She was the epitome of class and grace. She was Hermione.

Harry jumped up as if his seat shocked him and ran over to her to embrace her in a tight hug.

“Harry!” she exclaimed in surprise. “You seem happy.”

Harry smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “I am now.”

Hermione’s eyes sparkled and she pat his cheek gently. “You are such a sweetheart.”

Harry chuckled and stopped short when he heard a distinct cough behind him. He looked at Hermione whose smile faded and then turned to face the interruption.

A man, the same height as Harry was glaring at him. He had olive green eyes and long dark brown hair pulled back with a black ribbon into a low pony tail. He too was wearing the Edwardian style tuxedo, like Harry and the other men in the room, only instead of wearing a wizard’s robe, he was wearing a cloak.

“Just because you think you’re Harry Potter, it doesn’t give you the excuse to hold on to my date.”

Harry’s mouth fell open and he felt, more than saw, Hermione step up beside him and grip his arm.

“That was a bit out of line Jack. Harry is my best friend…”

Jack sneered and took Hermione’s hand as he tried to lead her away, but Harry stepped in front of Hermione and held up a hand to stop him.

“First of all, I don’t have to think I’m Harry Potter. I AM Harry Potter. Secondly, I would like to greet my friend without you breathing down my neck.”

Hermione blushed and glanced away nervously as Jack glared at him before stalking off. Harry watched him go then faced Hermione with a bright grin on his face.

“You are the loveliest woman here tonight.”

Hermione smiled, running her hand down the sleeve of his robe, delighting in the soft texture and his firm arm.

“Thank you. But I must say you look very distinguished and handsome yourself. I think I might swoon.”

Harry shrugged shyly, holding his head down as he smiled. He did look smart in his tails and black robe with his order of Merlin insignia on his collar along with his Auror rank and Potter crest.

“Enough about me. I missed you,” he whispered, leaning down to her ear.

Hermione’s breathing stopped short as she became acutely aware of his nearness and pine scent. Her eyes fluttered close and she gave a slight moan. Harry turned his head to look at her, his eyes focused on her closed ones and he swallowed nervously.

“I may be out of line…”

“What?” she said huskily.

“But I am highly attracted to you.”

Hermione opened her eyes and raised her arms to embrace him.

“Is that so?”

“Oh my yes,” he replied breathlessly. “Everything about you has my senses going haywire. Who you are, your brain and mind, your beauty…everything. He placed his hands on her waist and moved them gently, up and down.

“Dance with me,” she breathed.

They spent the rest of the night in each others’ arms in the centre of the ballroom. They danced way past the soreness of their feet, past the exhaustion and thirst. They danced as if their lives depended on it, without stopping and without question. As each song ended and the guests clapped, they remained in each others’ arms, savouring the new closeness they found and expressing their desires for one another.

“I find myself thinking about you all the time,” Harry said softly as they danced the waltz.

Hermione held his gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Harry licked his lips and grazed his fingers over her back.

“I was scared.”

Hermione’s sharp intake of breath surprised him and he waited.

“Oh my. Harry…I would never reject you…and never desert you.”

She then took his hand in hers and led him off the dance floor. She picked up her cloak at the coat check area before leading him outside.

“Where are we going?” he asked her.

“Just hug me.”

Harry did just that and then they disappeared with a pop.

Harry looked around and discovered that they were at Dover and standing on the cliff. The sea was bathed in moonlight as the waves washed in and out.

“Why are we here?” he asked her softly as if to not disturb nature’s harmony.

“We are going to talk,” Hermione responded.

Harry’s breath was taken away as she unwound her hair from its bun and the wind moved through it. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight and he had the sudden impulse to kiss her.

“Would it bother you if I kissed you?” he asked.

She inhaled deeply and took his face between her hands.

“Of course not. I would never pass up on your kisses.”

Harry smiled and pressed his lips against hers. They shivered from the touch and the breeze that whipped their clothes about them.

“I am so in love with you,” he said against her lips.

“Thank God,” she sighed, “I thought I would be the one who loved you and you would never return it.”

***

“Do you like it?” Harry whispered.

Hermione continued to stare at the statue. “How could I not?” she choked.

Harry rubbed her shoulders. “That night was made for us.”

Hermione broke down into a sob and Harry hugged her from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder and together, they looked up at the memory in stone.

“I told you I love you and I meant it with all my heart and more.”

Harry kissed her cheek in response. “You told me you’d never desert me and you haven’t.”

Hermione kissed his lips. “You have never left me either.”

They held each others’ gazes for a moment before he asked her, “How are you feeling?”

She nodded tiredly. “I feel better…and stronger.”

Harry’s hand grazed across her breast and he closed his eyes against the tears.

She held his hand. “Don’t cry. I am getting better.”

Harry’s breath hitched and she led him around to kneel in front of her.

“Harry, the cancer didn’t beat me. I am alive and I am not leaving any time soon.”

She wiped his tears and leaned forward to kiss him.

“I love you Harry.”

Harry nodded and ran his fingers through her hair.

“I love you too.”

***

When they got home, they were pleasantly surprised to see Bridget and her husband, Christopher along with their four children. Bridget was cooking while the grandchildren played a game of attack where they attacked their defenseless father.

“Mum!” exclaimed their thirty year old daughter.

Hermione laughed and with Harry’s help, got out of the wheel chair and walked over to her only child.

“Hello my darling,” she said. “My baby is home.”

Bridget leaned back and ran her fingers through her mother’s brown hair streaked with grey hair.

“It’s growing back,” she said. “I like it short.”

“Me too,” Harry piped up, wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist.

The children ran in along with their father and hugs and kisses went around.

Harry leaned against the wall as he watched his wife interact with their grandchildren…their grandchildren.

He almost cried in relief that she was making a full recovery from the breast cancer. It had been three stressful years. Many tears had been shed, hope had been lost over and over again, yet miracle above miracles…she was standing in their home and smiling.

Life had not been easy; first his blindness, then her illness. But one thing was for sure: they had each other and love kept them strong.

Once again, it struck him how truly blessed they were to be alive and to be able to continue growing old together.

“Grandpa!”

Harry looked behind him and saw his six year old granddaughter, Emily, standing on the arm of the couch.

“Catch me!” she squealed.

She jumped and Harry opened his arms as she went sailing towards him. His arms closed around her and she laughed in delight.

“I caught you,” he said with a smile.

*The end*

***

To see outfits go to these links

Hermione’s dress style (except for the bodice and all that beading etc.- I described it differently)

http://images.google.ca/imgres?imgurl=http://www.victoriandolls.ca/P-104%25201903%2520Grand%2520Ball%2520Gown%252001fc.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.victoriandolls.ca/Edwardian%2520Era%2520Gowns.html&h=1053&w=817&sz=227&tbnid=sCI5Lu2aa7UJ:&tbnh=149&tbnw=116&start=3&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dedwardian%2Bball%2Bgown%26hl%3Den%26lr%3D%26sa%3DG

The style of Hermione’s bodice: (bottom left image)

http://www.wingeo.com/patterns/300series/patrn315.jpg

The style of Harry’s tuxedo: (black bow tie)

http://www.gpuniforms.com/apgimages/aformalwear/tuxedojackets/tailcoat.jpg

Authors Note:

Thank you for the reviews. I appreciate that you have taken the time to read it. After one or two requests, I decided to add a second part to what was once a one-shot. This is it where it ends for real this time. J