Disclaimer: This is all for fun, I do not claim ownership of the characters or anything recognized from the work of JK Rowling. I am only borrowing them.
Warning: Mature themes, subject to change: mild violence, scenes of a sexual nature as well as general innuendo smattered throughout, adult themes including but not limited to death and disease both mental and physical.
[A/N] – This is my first submission to fanfiction dot net, and I will most likely be taking my time with the posts. I have read many stories over the last year since getting back into fan fiction so if you recognize anything please let me know so I may request permission from that party. For example, the lovely mak5258 created the use of hair grease in Potions making and was such a great idea I requested to use it as well. I strongly recommending reading hers as well as several other author's stories found in my favorites section at my profile.
Playlist: Incubus – Promises, Promises | Tegan and Sara – I Won't be Left | Harvey Danger – Flagpole Sitta
Tuesday July 12th, 2005 | 7:46am | St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
Not many persons gifted with magic would choose to take the stairs over the lifts throughout St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Hermione felt the methodical repetition of walking up the flights of stairs to the fourth level to be her own form of meditation. It helped that it brought back fond memories of her time at Hogwarts, and she often caught herself almost missing the thrill of the staircase beginning to move beneath her, the adrenaline rush as she would quicken her pace, and just make it to her next class. The last time a Hogwarts staircase moved beneath her feet was four years ago, long before she started her monthly visits to the Spell Damage ward.
"Good morning, Miss Granger!" called Healer Lisa Turpin behind the main desk on the fourth floor. "You're here early this month."
"Hello, Lisa." Hermione smiled at her old schoolmate. "My regular appointment was interfering with Healer Horner's plans for her wedding vows so I felt it best to accommodate her."
Lisa laughed quietly and glanced around, making sure she was not in earshot of her coworker. "She's been a right nightmare, hasn't she?"
A sly smile quirked at the corner of Hermione's lips. "I would expect nothing short of perfection from the wedding between Percy Weasley and Audrey Horner. Pureblooded traditions are incredibly demanding, when done to the letter. The Undersecretary of the Minister for Magic, and the Assistant to the Head Healer in Spell Damage both have certain…obligations to uphold, wouldn't you say?"
"If this is your way of justifying why I will be forced into those hideous dress robes, instead of a halfway pleasant dress, you're lousy at commiserating!" Lisa laughed again to herself and handed a large folder to Hermione along with a self-inking quill. "At least she was smart in choosing 'Ministry Blue' instead of the god awful maroon she considered before that."
Hermione took the folder with murmured gratitude. As she started on the form, she wandered over to the desk to sit with the mediwitch in the free chair. "Your coloring would go well with either set of robes, Lisa. Are you sure your house loyalties aren't speaking for you?"
Lisa tucked her dark blonde fringe away from her eyes, where a few strands regularly escaped her standard Healer's bun, knotted at the base of her neck. "Do you honestly believe me to be that petty, Hermione?" The feigned aloofness in her voice made Hermione snort in humor over her comment, which made Lisa smile and continue. "Honestly, at this point I wouldn't care if I were forced to wear Slytherin green to get the ceremony over with. Hannah, of course, has been much calmer about the whole situation, but I feel as though I wouldn't survive through another robe fitting or practice dinner before Saturday."
Hermione signed her name on the bottom of the admittance form, then tapped it with her wand to dry the ink; she handed the documents over to Lisa for further inspection. Lisa glanced to make sure all the necessary portions were complete, before she sealed the document with a wave of her own wand. The light-hearted wedding conversation was all but forgotten, as she took Hermione's right arm in her hands and conjured her hospital marker, destined to remain on her wrist for the remainder of her stay.
"Is this the new band from Derwent Designs?" Hermione asked, absentmindedly, as it magically adjusted itself to the size of her wrist. A soft blue glow emitted from the band immediately. The runes for her pulse, temperature, and magical signature appeared along the outside. It wasn't quite as wide as three of her fingers, but was much smaller and more lightweight than the first cuff she wore seven months ago, the first time the hospital used them at all.
"The latest," said a new voice, as the Assistant to the Head Healer blazed around the corner towards the mediwitch desk. She stuck out her right hand which Hermione took and shook with a friendly smile. "Thank you for your appointment accommodation, Miss Granger. I feared that we would miss the window for the next procedure if we delayed it much past this Saturday."
Hermione waved a dismissive hand, after she bade Lisa a good morning, and followed Healer Horner down the hall. "It was hardly an accommodation, Healer Horner. My supervisors were more than understanding that I would need a few days off during the week and can certainly handle my absence."
"How are the University classes going?" Healer Horner paused in her determined march down the corridor to hold the door open for Hermione into their scheduled room for this session.
She walked into the room in front of the Healer, starting to unbuttoned the flannel she wore. "Well, all things considered. The remedial classes were somewhat insulting, but Muggles have no record of my O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. scores, so they needed to be sure of my academic level. Thankfully my graduation date is planned for the end of next month."
Bringing out a silver tray from the cupboard in the corner, Healer Horner chuckled. "Congratulations, but I can't say I understand why you feel as though you have to put yourself through the paces like that anyway. I daresay you know more medical theory than many Healers in this hospital, as well as practical application."
Another dismissive hand wave from the curly haired witch, her flannel now hanging on the rack near the door. She settled herself into the chair-like bed that reminded her distinctly of the chairs her parent's had in their dental practice. However, the restraining straps were a marked difference.
"I find it helpful to learn about the Muggle way of doing things. Magic is a powerful thing but it hasn't solved everything, has it?"
A heavy silence followed her comment, as the Healer continued to pull out items from the cupboards above her, and inspected the labels for the potions inside. A small sigh escaped Healer Horner's lips as she turned to her patient, making a mental note, at least this time, she didn't seem as bitter as the last time this conversation had creeped in on them. She would make a point to look at her admission chart once she was under to see where she was with her other appointments, including her Nutritionist and Mind Healer.
"Nothing new today, Miss Granger," Healer Horner said as she brought the floating tray of bottles and shining instruments next to Hermione. She started to secure the restraining belts around her legs as Hermione finished braiding her hair to the right side of her head. "The trial team wishes me to remind you: this is the sixth of seven administrations of this treatment of DMB 4.6. Have you eaten in the last 12 hours, or had any other potions during that time?"
"No food, but I did take a Headache Draught when I woke up, around six thirty."
Marking the form floating by her shoulder, the Healer made no verbal comment, simply waiting. Her patience was rewarded with a sigh from the half-restrained witch.
"I also took half a dose of CNF 3.5. It worked much more efficiently than the other script for Sobrius Serum. And before you ask, I brewed it myself, thank you very much."
Audrey ignored the defensive tone and the implications behind it, for now. She presented the tray again to her patient, carrying three very different sized potions. "Then, you may begin with the smallest bottle, the one with the green label. Then, in 2 minutes drink the yellow bottle. I will administer the potion in the black bottle in three hours' time."
After the tiny green bottle's contents were drained completely, Healer Horner filled the next two minutes with casting a few diagnostic spells, and watching as a parchment on the wall filled with runes supplied by the cuff on Hermione's wrist. The tool was still emitting a cheerful sky blue. Right as the hand on the clock passed the two minute mark, Hermione unstoppered the yellow vial, and downed it all in one gulp. She grimaced as it burned down her throat like Firewhiskey. It tasted more like the bile she would choke up the mornings after she had indulged in too much Ogden's.
Her limbs started to shake not a second after she felt the potion hit her stomach. Her Healer quickly finished the job of strapping her down to the cushioned bench, her forearms facing up. The last belt on the bed went around her forehead. Her jaw clenched tight against her chattering teeth, but she relaxed slightly when the cool fingers of her Healer gripped her jaw, and put the mouth guard between her teeth to avoid cracking them, like she had done in the past. Ever since she had taken the stopper out of the yellow vial, her eyes were shut as tightly as possible; she knew with this treatment, if she were to open her eyes, it would make the burn starting low in her belly mutate into an inferno.
What started as tremors became restrained thrashing beneath the magically enforced cords. Healer Horner watched as the sky blue band started to flash yellow and red runes and the scripting appearing on the nearby wall doubled in rapidity. A few quick waves of her wand and she said, "Alright Hermione, let go."
Silencing charms protected the other members of the Spell Damage floor from the earsplitting wail from Lab 7C.
Tuesday July 12th, 2005 | 4:25pm | St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
"…since the fifth session of DMB 1.8, and that was nearly two years ago. I don't know why Callista doesn't insist."
"According to the notes, she does, but, since the treatments are time sensitive, we can't exactly demand another person's presence when she's here for the next dose. Callista and Audrey had a spectacular row about it a few months ago, but if she doesn't want anyone here, we can't force her."
"It's just…she's the only one that comes in here alone. And she's the youngest besides that other boy."
A rustling sound to Hermione's left brought her closer to the surface of reality. She sensed more than felt a clean wrapping of gauze going around her forearm from wrist to elbow. It felt like a numb dead weight next to her. Instead of acknowledging the smell of the healing salve, or the light from the window beside her bed, she opted to fall back behind her Occluding walls.
She was not allowed to bring them up before or during her treatment, but it was determined, after she reawakened her Occlusion would not interfere with the effects of DMB 4.6. It hadn't been possible all the way up through version 2.8, which meant several nights spent in the hospital while she fought the pain and the nightmares normally kept at bay.
Behind her walls it was calm, dark, and warm. There was no treatment, there were no lingering screams or coppery smells, and there were no irritating comments from nosy healing assistants who should mind their own fucking business.
Wednesday, July 13th, 2005 | 1:17am | St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
Her muscles protested loudly and her joints cracked as she stood unassisted for the first time in almost seventeen hours. There were still bruises on her calves and hips from where the restraining belts from the first room cut into her body; each spot was covered by gauze and Bruise Paste. She huffed out a breath as she stood tall, stretching her arms high above her head then bringing her hands down to her feet as her spine popped and adjusted, breathing in deeply. Adjusting the standard issue cotton shorts and camisole she had on, she took her few first shaky steps towards the light coming from the loo.
After inspection in the mirror, she saw her braid had remained miraculously intact on the right side of her head. All of her teeth had remained in one piece as well and there was no evidence of chips she may have accidentally swallowed. The clothes she had arrived in were folded neatly waiting for her on a shelf near her head. Slipping out of her cotton shorts and tank top she shuddered as the cool air hit her, muttering a wandless Warming Charm. Scowling, she stood clad in only her bra and small briefs and counted how many patches of gauze were around her torso, legs, and arms. Thirteen this time. Better. She decided to work up rather than down.
Sitting on the shower bench facing the mirror, Hermione picked at the adhesive gauze on her left calf where the yellow and green of an almost healed bruise met her inspection. The same went for the other three sections on her lower legs, as well as the five on her thighs and hips. There was only one strip on her stomach above her belly button. This was the injection site of the black vial that Healer Horner had administered while she was under the effects of the DMB 4.6. That particular spot would not heal for several more days from past experience so she would make sure not to wear anything to irritate it. That gauze stayed on.
Her arms were always the worst. They were the last to be restrained and where the worst of the thrashing happened. She had never seen personally the extent of her tremors as her eyes remained figuratively glued shut during the actual process but had asked ages ago to see a Pensieve of one of her sessions with Healer Horner. She would always ask to see one after the first round of a new treatment, but never after. It was difficult enough to experience it from her end each time.
Two of the final three gauze pads showed that the bruises beneath were still angry and purple, but were only a few centimeters in length. The last one on her left arm spanned the length from wrist to elbow and would require more than just her fingernails to remove. Another muttered charm had the cast like wrapping that weighed heavily on her arm falling away piece by piece where more than just the minty smell of Burn Paste met her nostrils. Shoving more of herself behind her Occluding barriers, she held her breath as she watched the scar appear again before her.
The word was angry, the skin red and puffy around each letter while the letters themselves seemed to ooze a black liquid from their corners. If she were to Scourgify she would most likely faint from the pain, so she resorted to the Muggle way by using a new cotton strip to carefully wipe away the black pus-like substance currently oozing from her body. Determinedly breathing through her mouth to avoid the worst of the smell, she wiped the last of the pus away and threw that soiled rag on top of the others on the ground in front of her already. A wave of her hand saw the pile Vanished.
She knew it was dangerous to continue using wandless magic after the procedure so she reached for her vine-wood wand out of her flannel pocket to cast a cooling charm on another gauze pad and to sanitize her hands before applying more Bruise Paste to her inflamed arm. Another wave of her wand had fresh wrappings applying themselves to her arm, secured tightly from wrist to elbow once more.
The loose-fitting jeans were less problematic to put back on than her shirt, but she managed as she had before. Besides, there were only twelve spots to avoid touching in order to dress herself without wincing or hissing in pain.
Satisfied, she left the adjoining loo to slip on her own socks and soft soled shoes. Taking down her flannel from the hook by the door, she threw it over her shoulders. She felt decidedly shaky as she looped the buttons through their holes. Mentally counting the hours since the treatment was administered it was easy to choose to visit the overnight tea shop for a cuppa just outside the hospital before Apparating home. Without a glance back, Hermione waved her wand at the room she was boarded in on the south end of the hall and made her way back to the staircases.
Another benefit of taking the stairs at St. Mungo's: no one noticed your departure.
Wednesday July 13th, 2005 | 12:35am | St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
"…thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two…"
"You could cast a Tempus you know."
The acidic tone did nothing to distract the methodical stirring of the cauldron in front of Draco Malfoy. He had long learned to ignore that particular timbre of annoyance. Once forty clockwise stirs had been reached he gently pulled the solid gold stirring rod out of the potion and reduced the heat, covering the cauldron. Only after this did he turn to speak to his brewing neighbor.
"But then you would complain of the visual distraction." He started to carry the soiled instruments over to the large gold basin in the corner of the room to wash the stirring rod and other implements. "If it were so bad you could request separate brewing quarters, Severus."
Draco felt it telling of the current level of exhaustion of his godfather that the only response he received was a mildly irritated grunt. The older Potions Master had never indicated he enjoyed working in close quarters with his godson but had never actively pursued the semi-regular verbal threats of requesting alternative brewing accommodations. Draco was pleased that he did not since even with the frequent disparaging comments, Severus Snape was a fantastic brewing companion. He had taught Draco everything he knew about brewing and had even privately tutored him when he requested when he had started his studies to become a Potions Master himself. With no small amount of humility, he could openly attest that without the continuous support of his former Potions professor, Draco would not have been able to reach the Mastery as quickly as he had.
Snape decanted the last of his brew and labeled it before setting the vials into the Stasis charmed potions closet at the end of the lab. The closet had been a suggestion of Draco's since each shelf, when the appropriate potion or salve was placed there, was charmed to be under Stasis and ready for summoning by any mediwitch desk in the hospital. The minutes it saved from the previous organizational system had earned him numerous and prestigious recognitions by Healers in dire need of this Burn Potion or that Seizure Tincture but it was especially useful in the fledgling days of the Dark Magic Banisher.
The potion itself was not administered in emergency but the brewing took more than one set of hands and therefore made it less likely that one of the Masters or Apprentices would be available to send up a potion or salve without completely ruining the batch. DMB was the best-kept secret the hospital had going for it so anything that kept it a secret and kept the brew intact was lauded.
All of the instruments that had been out on the wooden counter in front of them had now been cleansed and returned to their appropriate cabinets while Snape had been inside of the closet marking down what potions would need to be brewed the following day. Draco had already removed his dragonhide apron and gloves and was using a sink in the adjoining loo to wash away the residual hair grease that kept strands from falling into their brews and completely destroying their work. Snape followed just behind him to do the same in the sink next to him before they both walked to the coat rack near the exit door and started stalking in mutual silence out of the lab.
"Will you be joining me at the Potter's at the end of the month?" Draco didn't watch for his godfather's reaction as they entered the lift at the end of the hall. "Potter mentioned that it has been some weeks since he invited you but has not received a response."
Snape scowled at his godson as he watched him adjust the tie he wore in the reflective wall of the lift. He kept his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black trousers. His fashion taste had not changed drastically since leaving Hogwarts and he did not condone Draco wearing expensive shirts and ties under his work robes. "That weekend is the one Minerva chose to refresh the castle's security, and since they do not have an appropriate representative from Slytherin House to attend, the task has fallen to me."
"And you thought the two events were mutually exclusive?" Draco let a peal of laughter slip from his lips. "Who did you think they had chosen to represent Gryffindor?"
"Surely Minerva…"
"Will be the one facilitating. Really, Severus, there is no need to scowl like that. I will be there for Slytherin House as well, though I don't negate your magical strength, since Minerva disclosed the particulars of the proceedings to me as well and more than one wand is needed for each measure of security to be recast." Finally satisfied with the state of his black tie over his pressed cobalt shirt, he let his hands drop and turned to his former Head of House with an earnest look on his face. "The Potters invited us back to their home for refreshments following. You will need to attend one of these sooner or later."
"I'd rather it be later," grumbled Snape. He pulled a cigarette out of his long coat pocket. Even in the middle of summer, he insisted on wearing the long cloak-like trench coat that had collars high enough to hide half of his face if it pleased him. It often pleased him.
Draco held out an expectant hand which Snape automatically filled with another cigarette. They had reached the bottom of the lift and Draco waved a friendly goodbye to the older wizard tending the admittance desk at this late hour. There were very few people sitting in the waiting room beyond to be escorted to one of the upper floors, a stark contrast to years previous before the fall of the Dark Lord.
As the doors behind them shut and the Glamour fell into place obscuring St Mungo's from wandering Muggle eyes, the two Slytherins let their feet automatically take them towards the south end of the hospital. Discreet Incendios lit the end of both cigarettes.
"At least let me know your decision before this Friday evening," said Draco between drags on the first light he had had since the night before.
"I will hasten to respond to your harping." It did nothing to erase Snape's scowl when Draco simply released a huff of laughter at his tone.
"Of that I have no doubt. I will be returning to the lab by ten this morning; I have business at the Ministry to finalize the last portion of the patent for DMB 5.0."
Snape pretended to not already know this for the sake of companionship. They had long ago thought it wise to keep Draco's name at the top of these patents for the current strains of their potion in order to further ameliorate the Malfoy name to the Wizarding public.
"I'm sure I can manage without you, like I have done for years, boy."
Wednesday July 13th, 2005 | 2:14 am | Surrey
In two years she hadn't learned that Apparition after treatment was really not the best idea, especially within the first hour after waking. Hermione remembered this fact vividly as she gripped a streetlamp for support while retching behind a park bench.
So much for supper, then, she mused coldly, wiping the back of her hand across her sweaty forehead. A quick Aguamenti into her mouth cleared the taste of bile. Tea and scones tasted much better on the way down.
The neighborhood that she had chosen was thankfully deserted at this hour in the quiet suburb of Surrey. Her home hadn't been chosen in spite of Harry's family living here but because of it. There were almost all Muggle families living in the homes surrounding her modest two bedroom house and every resident remotely magical besides she were Squibs like Arabella Figg. The peace she found here was blissful compared to the nearly daily visits from "old school friends" or even worse…fans that just happened to be walking by her flat in Diagon Alley and fancied a chat to reminisce about the war. No bloody thank you. Hermione had moved to Surrey after the second round of treatment of DMB to take advantage of the quiet and still be close enough to Apparate to Wizarding London.
Hermione bent double again after taking a few more steps away from the park bench and breathed deeply in through her nose and out of her mouth, willing the nausea to abate. She couldn't take any more potions until Friday evening or else be faced with Healer Horner's wrath as they may interfere with her treatment. Once she felt she could stand upright again and would not have to crawl the final quarter kilometer to her front door Hermione began her walk again. A Muggle deadbolt as well as wards charmed to her magical signature granted her access to her sitting room where she promptly made use of her thick blue shag rug, collapsing to the floor and falling dead asleep.