Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, nor do I own the rights to the song, The Truth About Heaven by Armor For Sleep, from which I have borrowed that title. No copyright infringement intended.
AN: This story idea randomly came into my mind yesterday morning, and I went with it as it developed in my mind throughout the day. The story title may change in time, and this story has nothing to do with the poll that is currently on my page. Vote and review, please. :)
Chapter One: Patience Is A Virtue
In all of her twenty-one years, Hermione Jean Granger hadn't felt as helpless as she did now since she was four and a half years old.
Stuck in a hospital bed in the Intensive Care Ward of at St. Mungo's, Hermione had to have healers, her friends, family, and, occasionally, co-workers help her to everything. They had to help her sit up, lie down, turn her to her sides to sleep, feed her, bathe her, turn pages in books, magazines, and news papers when she wanted to read, scratch the places that itched, and, Merlin, even help her use the loo. Thank the gods that Ginny, her mother, or Mrs. Weasley were there everyday, switching days that they could come in when not busy with work or family.
Hermione had been hit exactly one month, three days, fifteen hours, and twenty nine minutes ago with a particularly nasty curse. No one knew what it was, nor the effects, temporary or permanent, were-not even the former Hogwarts book worm. For the first few days, she could only blink, but Hermione was nothing if not persistent and a fighter.
Hermione had just woken up a few minutes ago, and with the help of Harry, was now sitting up in bed eating some breakfast, when the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, walked in.
"Good morning Hermione, Harry," He greeted them.
"Morning," Hermione mumbled through a bite of toast she was chewing.
"Harry, would you mind stepping outside for a moment? I'd like to speak with Hermione alone about her new assistant."
"Of course, Minister," Harry replied and kissed Hermione's forehead and walked out of the room, most likely to go get some tea.
"You found an Auror whom is willing to be my new assistant?" She asked the former Order of the Phoenix member.
"Yes. He's the top Auror and was second in your class, after you, at Hogwarts. You know him." Kingsley explained. "Draco, could you come in here?" He called.
In walked Draco Malfoy. Hermione's breath lightly caught in her chest, making it slightly harder for her to breathe than normal.
"Hello, Hermione," Draco greeted her softly, probably trying not to startle her.
After the war, Harry, Hermione, and Draco had become friends. Ron, however, remained stubborn. Though he was civil towards the only Malfoy heir, he was not often seen at dinners, parties, and get togethers where Draco was also attending. Hermione and Draco were closer than Harry was to Draco, and went out for lunch or dinner once a week, typically on Saturdays, their least busy days of the week, and talked about life, work, love, books, everything.
"Hi," she said breathlessly.
Kingsley stood. "Do you need a potion, Hermione?"
"No, no, Minister. It's just a little harder to breathe today, is all," she explained. "Can someone get me some water, though? My throat feels dry…" she trailed off, her eyes closed and her head drooping to the left.
"Hermione?" Draco asked, hoping that she was only trying to doze off. "Hermione?" He said, shaking her shoulder lightly. "Hermione! Kingsley, get a healer in here!"