Author's Chapter Notes:
Author's notes: Written for Wizard_trauma on LJ> I intended to make this a lot more depressing but the characters wanted a happy ending. Thanks to ![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
simons_flower for the beta read. madam_minnie for the feedback.
I also found in researching the subject that many people who suddenly lose their sight go through the same grieving process as someone who is grieving a sudden death.
simons_flower for the beta read. madam_minnie for the feedback.I also found in researching the subject that many people who suddenly lose their sight go through the same grieving process as someone who is grieving a sudden death.
Ron lay in bed willing himself to go back to sleep. It was only in sleep that he could see his family, Quidditch, Harry and Hermione. It was only in sleep that he was happy.
Oh he'd heard all the whispers when he was in St. Mungo's. Did you hear what happened to poor Ronald Weasley? …Poor boy will never have a normal life…
At first, Ron believed that his sight would return, that he would be fine, and no matter how many times the Healers told him there was no hope, he still believed. The days turned into weeks, the weeks to months, and the months to a year. He no longer believed in anything. He was trapped in a world of blackness. In the last few weeks he thought that perhaps it was time to end it but, ironically, he couldn't make his way to the loo without someone to guide him so he most certainly couldn't off himself.
Hermione had told him that he could learn to live with his loss of sight but Ron wanted no part of it. She deserved better than half a man and he'd done his best to push her aside. She refused to go, of course, but that was only because she pitied him. She'd spent hours in his room, reading to him about the "inventions" that could assist him. He'd simply rolled on his side and turned his back on her. He didn't want to live like this; he didn't want to live in a world of darkness.
He missed Quidditch, he missed seeing the green grass of the pitch, he missed flying, he missed magic, and he missed his Mum's smile. It wasn't fair—he'd lost his sight helping to save the Wizarding World alongside Harry and the Wizarding World turned it's back on him.
Ron pulled his covers around his shoulders, shivering in the coolness of his room at the Burrow. He wondered briefly what time it was. He couldn't tell if it was day or night because the blinds were drawn…they stayed that way all the time. So what if he could tell from the warmth of the sun that it was daylight. What was the point in knowing it was daylight? He couldn't even look out to see the pond in the back garden.
He hadn't left his room in three days, he refused meals, and he even went as far as to throw his breakfast tray in the direction of Hermione's voice. He didn't want her help. He wanted to be left alone, left alone in his darkness, and by Merlin he was going to be left alone.
He heard footsteps on the stairs and he was surprised when Harry snarled, "You let this go on for three days, Hermione?"
He heard heavy footsteps ascending the stairs followed by lighter ones and rolled over so his back faced the door. He didn't want to deal with the guilt in Harry's voice today he simply wanted to be alone.
"Harry, just let him be! I'm dealing with it!" Hermione sounded frantic and Ron imagined she had grabbed Harry's arm.
"No! We've been doing this your way for a year and it's not working, Hermione. We're going to do this my way because I'm not losing my best friend."
"He's my best friend too," Hermione whispered. "He's the love---"
"I know what he is to you, Hermione!" Harry's voice softened. "But you're enabling him to behave this way. You're not helping him."
Ron didn't want help, didn't they understand that?
"Harry." Hermione burst into tears. "Oh God you're right. What kind of …"
"We're going to do this my way from now on, Hermione," Harry insisted and Ron heard him taking the stairs rather quickly.
Ron pulled his blanket over his head, determined to pretend to be asleep. Even knowing Harry would be coming through the door didn't prepare him for the force with which the door opened: it slammed against the wall. Ron heard the snap of the blinds as they were pulled up; he felt the warmth of the sun filtering into his room and he wished he could see the bright light of day.
"Get up!" Harry snarled as he tugged the covers off of him. "Get out of bed, Ron."
"Why? What's the point?" Ron muttered and rolled away from Harry's voice.
"The point?" Harry shouted. "The point is that you've been lying in this bed, feeling sorry for yourself, and I'm bloody sick of it. Get up!"
"No!" Ron shouted back. "There's no point. Leave me alone, Harry."
"What's a matter Won-Won?" Harry taunted. "Afraid you aren't man enough to overcome this? You're acting like a coward!"
"I'm not a coward." Ron sat up. "You don't know what it's like to have everything taken away from you! I can't even do magic!"
"Oh yes, poor Ronald Weasley," Harry's voice was laced with sarcasm. "He's got both of his parents, a family who loves him, but he can't see so he might as well die." Harry stormed over to the bed and grabbed Ron by his t-shirt. "I know what it's like to have everything taken away, Ron. Losing your eyesight is far better than having your family taken away isn't it?"
Ron fought back as Harry dragged him from the bed. He punched blindly at the air, kicked, and he even tried to bite Harry when he forced him from the bedroom. He heard Hermione's gasp of horror as Harry marched him down the stairs and through the kitchen.
"Where are you taking him?" she shouted as Harry kicked open the screen door.
"Out!" Harry grunted and twisted Ron's arm. "I'll break it, Ron—I swear to Merlin I'll break your arm if you don't walk."
Ron struggled to get free but three days without food left him more than a bit lightheaded and Harry managed to push him out into the damp grass in the back garden.
"Why won't you leave me alone?" Ron growled. "I just want to be left alone!"
Harry pushed at his chest, forcing him backwards, and Ron struggled to maintain his footing.
"We've left you alone too long." Harry used his index finger to poke him in the chest. "Ron, you're a foul git!"
"I'm a foul git? I'm a foul git?" Ron stammered.
Harry poked him in the chest again and Ron managed to snag his finger.
"Don't poke me again, Potter!"
"Why not?" Harry was smirking Ron could hear it in his voice. "What are you going to do about it?"
"This!" Ron snarled as his temper finally snapped.
He lunged at Harry, managing to tackle him around the waist, and they fell to the ground. Ron could feel the dew from the grass against his skin as they rolled around on the ground. He could smell the water that gathered on the strands, the fresh smell of the earth, and he could even pick up a hint of tea of Harry's breath.
Ron threw punches, occasionally hitting his target, and Harry finally managed to throw him off and pin him to the ground. He tried to buck Harry off but Harry used his knees to pin Ron's arms to the ground. He could hear Harry panting and could almost "see" the look of annoyance on Harry's face.
"I see you still have some life in you, Ron," Harry said. "What do you see?"
"Nothing, damn it! I can't see anything." Ron's voice broke. "Just darkness all the time. I want to see—I want to be able to fly, to use my wand…" Ron's voice trailed off as he broke down into sobs. It was the first time he'd cried since finding out he would never see again. It was as if something broke inside of him and he was certain even the Muggles a mile away could hear him crying.
Harry rolled off of him and helped Ron sit up before embracing him. Ron buried his head in Harry's shoulder, grieving for all that he'd lost, and he could smell the salt in his tears. He struggled to gain control of himself and when he finally pulled away Harry cupped his face in his hands.
"Ron, you're better than this," Harry said softly. "You're my best mate and you're stronger than this."
"I can't do anything," Ron whispered. "I'm not even a proper wizard."
"Ron," Harry said, moving his hands away and lifting a piece of grass to Ron's cheek. "What do you see?"
"Harry," Ron sighed. "I'm blind…I mean I can smell the grass and the dew…I can feel it against my skin and it's warm but cool…"
"What color is it?" Harry asked.
"Green, of course…" Ron's voice trailed off and he bit his lip.
"How did you know where to tackle me? If you can't see how did you know where I was?"
Ron sat silently, trying to determine how exactly he knew where Harry was, and realization washed over him.
"I could hear you breathing." Ron ran a hand through his hair. "I could smell the broom polish that you use, I could hear you shifting back and forth on your feet. I heard the rustle of—" Ron paused. "Harry, what the hell are you wearing anyway?"
"A Muggle tuxedo," Harry sighed. "Which you've ruined by the way."
Ron chuckled and felt the ground until he moved to sit next to Harry. They were silent for several minutes then Harry nudged him.
"You can see," Harry began. "Your other senses are heightened, you have a different sense of touch, you can hear better, and, Ron, if you learn…if you let us help you…then you can do anything."
"I won't be able to fly," Ron muttered. "Or play Quidditch."
"Not professionally," Harry nudged Ron's shoulder again. "But you can learn to fly and until then you can fly with me. "
Ron pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them. He thought about what Harry was saying, what Hermione had told him, and he wondered if it was even worth trying.
"Do you believe that? Do you honestly believe I could do all those things?"
"I do, Ron," Harry said earnestly. "You faced Aragog and got away. You can do anything, Ron. I believe in you."
"I believe in you too," Hermione's whispered. "I believe in you, Ron."
"Where did she come from?" Ron asked and Harry chuckled. "No, Harry really where did she come from? I didn't even smell her coming."
Ron allowed Harry to help him stand up and Harry turned him to face Hermione. Ron took a hesitant step forward and felt his hands shake. He'd been horrible to her, mean and sadistic, and she deserved better.
"Hermione," He croaked and took another step. "I'm so sorry."
He hadn't touched in her months, just the one time six months ago, and he desperately wanted to hold her in his arms. He took another step and finally closed the distance between them. He reached his hand out to pull her into a hug when he heard her crying and his hand came in contact with a fairly protruding stomach. He felt something push against his palm and his knees gave out.
"Hermione?"
He felt Harry's hand on his shoulder, steadying him, and Hermione dropped to her knees before him. She cupped his face in her hands and he reached out to touch her again.
"Yes," Hermione said simply. "I'm pregnant…Oh Ron, I didn't want to tell you because…I was afraid and you were so…"
Ron felt the tears spilling down his cheeks and he closed the distance between them. He seemed to know exactly where her lips were and he claimed them in a soft kiss. Harry made a gagging sound behind them and Ron lifted his head.
"The one good thing about being blind," he quipped, "is that I don't have to watch you and my sister snog. That was more effective than a Puking Pasty for cleaning out your system."
Hermione giggled and Harry smacked the back of his head. Ron felt lighter than he had in months. He pulled Harry to the ground with them and leaned his forehead against Hermione's.
"You'll help me, right?" Ron said softly. "I'm going to be a dad and I think…you both believe in me right?"
"Yes, Ron," they said in unison. "We'll help you—we've always helped each other."
"I want my son to be proud of me," Ron whispered and kissed Hermione again.
"Daughter," Hermione grinned against his lips.
"Twins," Harry quipped causing them all to groan.
Ron knew it wasn't going to happen overnight, he knew he had a lot to learn, but now he had hope. That was more than most people have.