Wassup? I know, I know. I haven't updated Deathly Hallow: Part 1 in a while. I'm sorry. But this story just got into my head and I need to get it down. So, I just recently started watching Grey's Anatomy and I got an idea for this. I'm not really familiar with the medical field. So all of my knowledge about it is from the Internet and Grey's Anatomy. And honestly, it is so difficult trying to write magical hospital stuff.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.

The Healer and the Auror

Chapter One

The Healer

Hermione Granger was tired. She had been working since five that morning. Her shift at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was almost over. Just another hour and she could go home and get some sleep. She knew she probably had bags under her eyes. An eighteen-hour shift at a hospital would do that to you. She sometimes wondered why she became a Healer. It wasn't for the money, she knew that. It wasn't because she was bored neither. Maybe it was because after the War, so many had died. And it got to her. She didn't want anyone else to die. She didn't want anyone else to feel the sense of loss.

Life after the War was...unnerving. After finding her parents in Australia, restoring their memories, and helping them move back to England, she moved in with her best friend, Harry Potter, in his parents' old house in Godric's Hollow. He spent days working on fixing it up, turning his old nursery into his godson, Teddy's, nursery. Harry wanted the child to stay at his house occasionally. A child was without care and usually, always happy. But it couldn't stop what came at night.

Hermione knew he was having bad dreams. She could hear him in the next room at night and saw the bags under his eyes. Sure, she had some, too, but that was because of work. It had been five years since the Final Battle and he was still having nightmares. She held him. She comforted him. Sometimes, she even slept in his bed. But it wasn't enough. The War had taken its toll and it broke him, ripping pieces and bits off of him, one by one. He started Auror training after three months to keep himself occupied, while Hermione went into Healer training. He blamed himself for the deaths during the War. She tried to reassure him that it was his fault but it never worked. No matter how much he masked himself, Hermione knew there was part of him that was missing and hurt. And it hurt her to see him like this. Physically, emotionally, mentally. She loved him. In every way. But nothing she could do would heal him.

"Look alive, Granger," Healer Locksley, her supervising Healer, told her as she passed her in hall and saw her yawn. Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled slightly. She needed some coffee. "Go check 412's temp, please." Healer Locksley was a bit of a hard-ass but she made Hermione a better Healer. She nodded and made her way down the corridor to Room 412. A ten-year-old little girl had went on a joyride on a broomstick and had fallen off twenty feet. She managed to accidentally apparate herself onto the roof of her home just before hitting the ground but she ended up splinching herself, slicing her leg. She had been told that if she hadn't had apparated herself, the damage would have been worse. Hermione had taken her vitals before and young Lucy had told her that she had no regrets, which made the young Healer smile.

"Hey, Lucy," she said softly as she entered the room. A small brown-haired, young girl woke up and groaned a bit. Her left leg was elevated on couple of pillows and bandaged around the knee. "Sorry to wake you and I know it's late, but it's time to check your temperature." Her mother, who was lying on the couch on the opposite side of the room knitting a red sweater, looked up when she walked in. Lucy sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. Leg's a bit sore," she answered, looking at her limb.

"No pain, though?"

Lucy shook her head. Hermione smiled. "Good." She ran the tip of her wand over her patient's forehead from the left to the right very slowly, then waved it in the air in front of her. "37.7 Celsius" appeared in light orange letters. "Not too bad. Just above the norm. But nothing too major," she told Lucy's mother, who nodded and smiled.

"She's been feeling fine," she confirmed to Hermione.

"We just have to make sure it doesn't get any higher. And keep monitoring your leg. Why were you on a broomstick?" she asked the little girl. "Planning to be a professional Quidditch player?"

Lucy shook her head. "No. I saw my older brother flying with his friends one day, so I took his broomstick and tried it out." Lucy's mother shook her head with a reproachful look and a roll of her eyes. Clearly, she had already torn her daughter a new one for flying when she didn't know how. "I actually want to be an Auror."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Your friend, Harry Potter, is one, isn't he?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, he is. It's a dangerous job, though. Sometimes, he can be away for months at a time and his missions are sometimes top secret. Do you think you can handle it?"

"I think so."

"Well, if you're up for the rigorous training, I think you would be a great Auror. We just need to get this leg healed up so you can get stronger."

"I read about you, you know."

After the War, she, Harry, and Ron were made into the history books and schoolbooks. Everyone who hadn't known Harry Potter before the War now knew his name, her name, and Ron's name. A ball was even given in their honor where they received the Order of Merlin, First Class about a month after the War. Harry was reluctant to attend, feeling as if he hadn't earned it. But Hermione convinced him to go when she told him that she would be right beside him the whole time. "Nothing bad, I hope," Hermione replied with a chuckle.

"No. Nothing bad at all. You were very good at combat spell work yourself. What made you become a Healer?" she asked.

Hermione opened her mouth to reply but before she could, she heard Healer Locksley's voice at the door frame. "Granger! Emergency in the ER! Now!" She got into motion, fleeing the hospital room and running down the hall and through the Emergency Room door, other Healer interns hot on her heels. When she opened the door, she paused. Auror robes everywhere. There must have been about half a dozen or a little more Aurors in the Emergency Room, either supporting someone or being supported. Her heart stopped. This was the worst part of her job. Seeing Aurors. She was always so afraid she would see the one person she wished she would never see in a hospital. The man she loved.

Other Healer interns had already jumped into action. Her colleague, Sam Baines, was tending to an Auror who was seizing on a gurney. Jessie Palmer was helping another Auror whose leg was clearly broken and bleeding. Thing was, the more she looked at the Aurors, she realized she recognized them. One was more familiar than the other. They looked like the Aurors in Harry and Ron's team. Suddenly, she saw a mop of orange-red hair that was caked in blood. His left arm was hidden from view, probably cradled against his chest. He was standing on his right leg in front of a gurney. Something was wrong with his right leg. Fractured or something.

"Ron!" At the sound of his name, he spun around, wincing painfully, towards her. She ran up to him. "Ron, what happened?!"

"We were on a mission...we were trying to save a young boy who was being...experimented on with Dark Magic...and...th-they came out of nowhere. Leftover Death Eaters. W-we were outnumbered. Most of us got away but-"

"Where's Harry?!"

Ron didn't speak. Why wasn't he speaking?! Where was Harry?! Where was he?! Her heart stopped again. No. It couldn't be true. It could not be true. She wouldn't believe it. No. Not Harry. Not her Harry. She got a sudden flashback of emotion from the Final Battle when Voldemort and his followers came back from the Forbidden Forest, escorting Hagrid with a limp Harry in his arms. And Voldemort telling everyone that their beloved friend was dead.

"Ron..." she said softly, her heart falling more and more. "No. No! Where is he?!" When he would not respond she yelled, "TELL ME!"

He moved aside and revealed Harry laying on the gurney. She gasped.

He was fidgeting violently, his body thrashing. He wasn't seizing, he was trying to not to show how much pain he was in. Blood was all over his chest, rapidly gushing out. Cartwright and Torrens were running diagnostics over him and covering his chest with gauze, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Harry jumped in front of the boy to protect him. But one of the Death Eater must have recognized him. It was Sectumsempra. I don't even know where it came from," Ron explained.

Hermione hurriedly stepped up to her roommate's side. "Harry!" She immediately helped Torrens try to contain the bleeding. She waved her wand to try to stop the blood from gushing out but it wouldn't close, so she grabbed several pieces of gauze and held it against his wound. He looked up at her through his fits. "Hey, Doc." When Hermione had passed her Healer Exams, he gave her the nickname "Doc". He grimaced in pain.

"Ron! He's bleeding to death! You are trained in the basics of Healing! You know the counter-curse. Why didn't you cast it?!"

"I did, Hermione! But...it didn't work. It must be a modified version of Sectumsempra. The spell...it...it sliced across his chest over his heart," he told her, his eyes widening as if he could not believe it himself. "He shouldn't even be alive."

Hermione shot her head to look at him. Tears welled up in her eyes. She felt as if her own heart was completely broken. "No...no! This can't be real. Please, tell me it's not real." 'Someone save him! Someone needs to save him! Make him better. Fix him. Don't let him die, she thought, forgetting she was a Healer.

Sectumsempra was a curse invented by her late Potions professor, Severus Snape, during his childhood. It was like an invisible knife cutting the victim's flesh pretty deep, killing the victim by blood loss. There was a counter-curse to reverse its effects and it would heal the skin it punctured, sealing it up.

Harry's heart was big. When she was in training, he let her perform Diagnosis Spells on him as practice that showed his whole body and his organs in a misty, yellow glow above his body. It was the spell that allowed Healers to see what was wrong with the patient. She was surprised at how big his heart was, despite how low and depressed he was feeling in his life.

But the heart is not so easily healed.

TBC...

Well, that's chapter one. Sorry it's a bit short. This will probably be a 4-chapter story maybe. I don't know. Now, I have to go shower and after I have to babysit but I wanted to get this story out.

Pleez review.

DREWHHR