Hello all! This isn't my first fanfiction but it is the first I've posted. Please read and review. Constructive criticism is my best friend. I'm not sure how frequently I will be updating but it shouldn't be a very long story or very hard to continue. Stay tuned and thank you!
Hermione awoke with a start to the sound of her far too loud alarm clock. She quickly but lazily turned it off with one hand while unsuccessfully rubbing sleep from her eyes with the other. Turning on her side, she looked out of the window to the private cul-de-sac that she lived on. It was still quite dark at seven in the morning, but the day seemed promising. With a yawn, she lifted herself out of her bed, not realizing the book on her covers until it fell onto the floor with a dull thud. Hermione picked up the book, figuring that she had fallen asleep reading again, and placed it on her bedside table face up. East of Eden, it read on the cover, by John Steinbeck. As much as she hated to admit it- which she never had- the blatantly misogynistic author had a talent for writing and although some of his work was long and dry, East of Eden had, for a long time, been a favorite of hers.
Starting the day off with a cool shower always woke Hermione up more efficiently than coffee, but she never went a day without both. After dressing into her work robes and pulling her unruly hair into a lazy up-do, Hermione grabbed her travel mug and a breakfast bar and apparated from her living room to the apparition point a couple of blocks from St Mungo's.
Following the éclat of the war, Hermione was offered multiple positions at the Ministry. After her emotionally and physically draining experience in the war, many expected her to take any of the low-key jobs in a heartbeat. But for Hermione, sitting behind a desk for eight hours each day did not appeal to her more adventurous nature. Even being the avant-garde for elf rights didn't sway her to accepting the position as head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And a job as an Auror was out of the question too- her reserved side wasn't on board for any more physically draining situations. Instead, Hermione applied for a job at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Thrilled that a war hero wanted to work there rather than at the Ministry, the hospital almost immediately hired her, even without previous medical experience. Despite her lack of knowledge, Hermione made an excellent addition, bringing new élan to the hospital, and after just a year of Healer classes she became a licensed Healer and one of the best employees at the hospital. After her second year of working at the hospital, Hermione was promoted to Head Healer of her department, Spell Damage. Three years and many patients later, she was more in love with her job than ever.
Hermione walked into the hospital with a flash of her ID- mandatory for all Healers- and a quick hello to the woman at the front desk. She took the lift to the fourth floor where she worked and entered her office, setting her belongings on her desk. She then went to make her rounds of the floor, making sure everything was in order and her patients were comfortable. Being the head of the Spell Damages department, Hermione worked with many people who had their memories erased by charms gone wrong, or people who went insane due to torture done to them during the reign of Voldemort. People such as Gilderoy Lockhart, her second year Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, and Frank and Alice Longbottom, Neville Longbottom's parents, were a few of her primary patients. Hermione liked working with the Longbottom's and even Lockhart was enjoyable to work with some days. His confusion was a source of humor to Hermione and many of her coworkers. Hermione didn't find much comedy in her job, but Lockhart had bilked so many people of their money and some others of their memories that she couldn't help but think that he had had it coming.
Hermione worked throughout the afternoon without any mishaps. Her patients were doing as well as expected and she didn't have any other responsibilities to attend to. In the quiet of her office, Hermione finished all of her desk work, only breaking for lunch and her second rounds of the floor. Although being confined behind a desk was the one reason she didn't take a job at the Ministry, she didn't mind it at St Mungo's. She didn't have many uneventful days, so she appreciated it when she got one and took advantage of the calm environment. Filing the last paper required, Hermione grabbed her clipboard in preparation for her final round of her shift. Once again, everything was in order. After collecting her belongings from the chair in her office, Hermione rode the lift down to the lobby. She was about to say goodbye to the desk attendant when a bevy of people rushed into the hospital, causing much ado and almost running her over. Amongst the group, she recognized a few Aurors including her close friend Harry Potter.
"Hermione! Thank god!" Harry careened towards her, not bothering to fix his askew glasses.
"Harry? Are you okay? What's going on?" Hermione asked, addled. Looking past her friend, she saw a few Aurors talking frantically with a Healer, who nodded calmly at what they were saying and quickly led them to the elevator. It seemed as though one of the Aurors was holding a child, only a shock of familiar white-blond hair poking over the man's shoulder as he walked away. She looked worriedly back at Harry, whose expression reflected hers.
"I'm fine, but there was an accident. I'm not sure what happened exactly. I've never seen anything like it before! One minute he was there and the next he wasn't. Well, he was- but not in the same way…" Harry rambled, looking everywhere but at Hermione.
"Harry- whoa! Harry, slow down. Tell me what happened- calmly!" Hermione urged. But before Harry could begin, the same Healer who led the Aurors upstairs was at Harry's side.
"Healer Granger… you'll want to come check this out."
Back on the fourth floor, Hermione was lead into a room that was unoccupied merely ten minutes before. A group of Aurors all stood around the bed looking as worried as Harry. As she walked closer to the bed, a sense of despair grew in her stomach. It was only until she was at the foot of the bed that she saw who occupied it. A boy, about the age of six, lay in the bed. Dirt covered his small face and although his features were much rounder than she remembered, his nose was still straight and his jaw still narrow and pointed. His hair was still the same white-blond and he was as pale as ever. Around his neck was a large amulet with a snake wrapped around a green stone. It looked gauche on such a small boy, and it should have told her who she was really seeing in front of her, but it was only when his eyes fluttered open and bright silver spheres looked confusedly up at her that she was sure. Her composure melted and a small gasp escaped her lips, her clipboard falling from her limp arms with a clatter. She barely heard Harry when he spoke.
"We were on an Auror mission when he was hit with a spell. We don't know what the spell was supposed to do, but Draco Malfoy is now a toddler."