Haunted

A/N: This story takes place four years after HBP but disregarding DH.


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Hermione woke slowly, as if she were drugged. The feeling slowly entered her limbs and she flexed her fingers, the tingling sensation in them telling her they had not been moved in a long while. She thought back, trying to remember what happened. She knew there had been a battle…but she couldn’t remember the specifics. She didn’t worry; it would come back to her. She’d been given a sleeping draught, the haziness upon waking the damning evidence. She licked dry, chapped lips and wondered how long she’d been out this time. It hadn’t been the first time she’d woken disoriented in the hospital wing at Hogwarts or back at Headquarters or once even in a dark alley. That had been an odd experience.

She opened her mouth to ask for some water but her throat felt as if she’d swallowed a bucket of sand. She licked her lips and tried again but someone moved by her.

“Don’t try to talk, I’ll get Madam Pomfrey,” Ron’s quavering voice said. She nodded and lay back against the pillow, her head pounding from the movement. She lifted a hand to her head and felt a lot of gauze wrapped around it. She hadn’t even noticed. She tried to open her sleep crusted eyes but they were cemented shut. She wished she could get the gauze off so she could clean them. She tried to remember if she had a head injury but when she tried to think her head exploded with pain and she moaned.

“There, there, dear. Open your mouth for me a little and drink this right down,” she heard Madam Pomfrey say before pressing a bottle to her lips. The potion smelled foul but she swallowed it without complaint, the liquid clearing the cotton balls from her mouth. She settled back into the pillows when she’d finished and cleared her throat.

“Water?” she croaked. Was that really her voice? She almost laughed at the scratchy sound. She sounded like an eighty year old smoker. Another glass was held to her lips and she drank greedily. She lifted a hand when she was finished and laid back, feeling foolish. She didn’t feel so bad, she’d had worse.

“Ron?” she called, wondering if he was still there.

“I’m here, Hermione,” his sweet voice filled her ears and she smiled.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Of course, I’m fine. A few bumps and scrapes but that’s it.”

“Harry?”

“He’s fine too; he’s over with Lupin right now. He got banged up pretty good, but he’ll be alright.”

Something about Ron’s voice was off. What had happened?

“Is everyone okay?”

“For the most part. We’re all alive, if that’s what you mean.”

She nodded again and her head screamed at her. She grabbed her head, realizing that her left hand was bandaged.

“What happened?” she asked. “I remember the battle…but then stuff goes black and it hurts my head to remember…”

“Don’t think about it right now, ‘Mione. You need to rest, alright? Just get some sleep.”

“Ron, I feel fine. Just a headache and my throat is a little sore. Can we take these bandages off my head?”

“Not yet, m’dear,” Madam Pomfrey said. She hadn’t even been aware the nurse was still there. “Now be a good girl and drink this right up.”

Hermione would have rolled her eyes if she didn’t think it would cause her an excruciating amount of pain. Once swallowing it she grew somewhat angry. Another Sleeping Draught.

“Really, is this necessary?” she asked, her mind going fuzzy. “I feel fine!”

“Just get some rest,” the old woman said, smoothing her blankets. Hermione reached her bandaged hand out to Ron who took it gently and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll stay right here, ‘Mione,” he promised, using the nickname he had a habit of saying now. She figured it was just because he was too lazy to say her whole name.

“Thanks. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

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When Hermione woke again that damnable bandage was still over her eyes, blocking out all light, and her eyes were still crusted over.

“What time is it?” she grated out.

“Almost nine,” Harry’s voice said.

“Morning or night?”

There was silence for a moment. “Morning,” he said, his voice low. What was wrong with these guys?

“Can you help me sit up?” she asked. Two pairs of hands grabbed her arms and pulled her into a sitting position while her mind swirled.

“You okay?” Ron asked.

“Just a little dizzy. Guys, really, this isn’t necessary. I’m fine. Look.” She moved her arms and legs which were a little stiff but otherwise didn’t hurt.

“Hermione,” Harry said, his voice still in that mournful low voice. “Do you remember anything?”

“Of course, just not the last part. I remember…you, Harry, I was following you…”

“Yes, do you remember anything after?”

She thought, her head aching with the effort. “Not really. What happened?”

“You took a pretty good hit, Hermione,” Ron told her, his voice soft and very unlike him.

“Guys, stop messing around. Can you get this bandage off me?” she said, pulling at it.

“No! Hermione, don’t, we have to ask Madam Pomfrey first-,” Harry started but she had already pulled it most of the way off. She unraveled it, fisting the material she removed.

“Really, guys, this is absurd. Can you hand me my wand, Harry? My eyes are really crusty, I want to wash my face.”

Instead of her wand a wet washcloth was pressed into her hand.

“Thanks!” she said, dropping the gauze and wiping the crud from her eyes and rubbing down the rest of her face she opened her eyes and smiled.

“See? All better-,”

Except it wasn’t. It took her a moment to realize. She blinked several times. And opened her eyes to their fullest extent. But all she saw was…nothing. Not even blackness. It was just…nothing.

“H-Harry...Ron…w-what…why is it so dark? I thought you said it was morning?”

“It is,” Ron said dejectedly.

“Then why…? I-I…I must have hit my head harder than I thought!” she laughed.

“No, Hermione. You didn’t. Your head is fine,” Harry said. Someone sat next to her and she turned her head, pulling the lids of her eyes as far away from each other as possible.

“Maybe you guys should get Madam Pomfrey. This is going to sound weird, but I can’t see anything,” she said, trying to keep her voice under control. She must have just knocked something loose, hit her head really hard or something. She’d be fine soon if she just knew what it was.

“Hermione,” Harry’s voice was very close; he was the one who had sat next to her. He took her hand in his and she felt Ron touch her shoulder. “She can’t do anything. She tried. Really. She worked on you for so long, but there’s nothing…”

“What are you saying?” she asked, her voice wavering.

“Hermione,” Ron’s voice this time. “You’re not going to see anymore. When you destroyed that Horcrux, you saw something, you kept screaming about it. Hermione, you’re blind. Whatever you saw…it stole your eyesight. It’s not damaged or anything…it’s just…gone.”

Hermione nodded, not exactly knowing why. Their grasps on her tightened as she began to shake, violently.

“Wha-what…I-I don’t…I don’t understand…wha…how…how can something, something do that? I-I mean it’s not like you can just…you can’t just…not that I’ve read…it can’t be really…guys, guys-,”

She was sobbing and they were there, they were holding her. She draped over Harry’s shoulder, Ron held her from behind. What had happened? How could this happen? There’s no magic that can make someone go blind…she couldn’t be…there had to be another reason. This was just a joke, a long, cruel joke. But when Ron started sobbing along with her she knew it wasn’t. They wouldn’t do this to her.

“Oh, gods,” she gasped. “I don’t understand…I-I just can’t…there’s nothing? Nothing anyone…?

“She tried everything, Hermione. It’s just…gone.”

“Gone? How can it be gone? How can someone steal my eyesight? You can’t just do that!”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered. She clung to them, unbelieving. Her eyes blinked, over and over. But nothing happened. It was true. She was blind. She was really, really blind. She shuddered, taking it in. The tears ended quickly, her mind already moving on ways to make the situation work.

“Alright…alright. We just need to help me remember what I saw…that might be a key. You said I destroyed the Horcrux?”

“Yeah, the cup is gone.”

Good. That was good. At least it hadn’t been for naught.

“Alright, so that’s four right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well…good. That’s over half. I guess you guys can take care of the rest.”

“Hermione…”

“Harry? Could you get me some water? My throat is really sore.”

She felt him slowly disengage himself and knew Ron was still there, behind her. She knew they would hover and a part of her wanted that. She needed to be near something she knew in this confused world she was now doomed to live in. But another part knew that she couldn’t give in to that first part. She had to be strong. Harry would blame himself, Ron would coddle. She needed to be independent, she had to figure out how to live like this. How was she ever going to be any good to anyone this way? Tears threatened but she held them at bay and when Harry returned with her water she held it with two hands and brought it instinctively to her lips. Her first try ended with water down her front but she drank slower, not sure of how full the glass was. She was definitely going to have to work at this. Someone took it from her hands when she was finished and she rubbed the bandages of her left hand which was aching.

“What happened to my hand?” she asked.

“The Horcrux burned it,” Ron said hurriedly.

“Is there anything else I should know about? Is my face scarred? Did my hair fall out?”

“No, no you look perfect. Just your eyes.”

“What do they look like? Normal?”

“Well, sort of,” Ron said.

“What do you mean, sort of?”

“They’re the same color and everything,” Harry supplied. “But where it should be black, it’s white.”

“You mean my iris?”

“Yeah, it’s just…white.”

“Can you fix it?” she asked, knowing it must look odd. She didn’t want anyone to treat her different.

“I don’t know if I should,” Harry said reluctantly.

“Harry, please. It won’t hurt me. It’s not like you’re going to make me go blind or anything,” she said with a smile. “It’s just a color-changing spell. I would do it myself, but I don’t know what I might hit.”

She knew he was looking to Ron for his idea on her request. Apparently she passed as he said, “Alright, open your eyes wide, can you feel them? Ok, good, just open really wide and sit really still.”

She did so and felt a faint buzz in her right eye, then her left one as Harry muttered the spell.

“Did it work?” she asked.

“Yeah, it looks like it did,” Harry said.

“Thanks. Can you do me one more favor?”

“Anything,” they both said.

“Could you get Madam Pomfrey to escort me to the W.C?”

They both left quickly and she awaited the nurse, subjecting herself to the fact that this was how life was going to be now.

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Draco watched as the nurse walked the bushy haired witch to the loo, the older woman trailing the fingers of the younger one on the bedposts as she walked hesitantly, as if she were going to run into something at all times. His anger surged but he quickly quelled it when the Weasle shot him a death look. Oh how he’d love to show that red-haired loser what it was to be a real man, wipe that I’m gonna get you look off his face. That jackarse wouldn’t last two seconds against him.

Draco gnashed his teeth together. Stupid bitch. If only she hadn’t stuck her nose where it didn’t belong he wouldn’t be here. He’d have had that Horcrux gone and on with his next mission. But no, as always the Golden-Fucking-Trio thought they knew best and now look where they were. Granger couldn’t see, Weasley was cut to shit, Potter was walking with a limp and Draco? Well, he couldn’t walk at all now, could he? He was useless, a doll. How the fuck was he supposed to kill that damned snake now? Now that the Order had claimed him while he was unconscious he had lost his advantage. He couldn’t go back into the Death Eater folds. He scratched idly at the tattoo that was burning like fire on his left forearm and fumed. He watched, annoyed, when the twit stopped to talk to some woman with bubblegum pink hair. He had seen her cry for all of like, two seconds on Potter’s shoulder while her other lover held her from behind. He wondered vaguely if that was how they normally took her and he grinned. Potter saw him and glared. What was with the glaring? Did they really think he’d get intimidated? He was a Death Eater, for fucks sake. The nurse dropped Granger off at her bed then hurried over to him. She asked him questions and he simply turned away.

“You know, you’ll never get better if you don’t try. Can you wiggle your toes?”

Draco tried, but didn’t let the nurse know as he failed. It was like there was no signal. Madam Pomfrey had told him he had just bruised his spinal cord or some shit and something about his nerves being in shock. Whatever. All he knew was that he couldn’t move his legs and it was Granger’s fault.

He closed his eyes so the nurse would leave him alone. She finally did and he mulled over the shit-hole that was his life.

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A/N: Hey all! This is my newest, I hope you enjoy it. This is just a little teaser, there is a lot more juicy plot to come! Let me know what you think.

XOXO

RynStar15