Voices blurred together in the darkness that consumed Hermione's brain. The speakers were hushed and peaceful, as if they were discussing the paper over tea on a sunday morning. Her temples throbbed and the pain echoed through the back of her skull as consciousness began to sink in.
"Molly, Hermione's hand..."
As the noise of the room began to rise, voices and scuffling increasing, the pain grew more intense and shifted down her spine. A moan slipped from Hermione's mouth.
"Goodness. Arthur, owl Ginny this minute." Something warm grabbed her hand. "Hermione?"
Her lower jaw was opened by a soft hand and something cold entered her mouth, a vial, she thought instinctively. The potion was something between orange and honeycrisp, refreshing and cool in the back of her mouth. Her headache was soothed to a dull pulse and her thoughts began to overwhelm her. She opened her mouth and tried to mutter words but nothing formed.
"Easy, dear. Just relax yourself."
This voice was new and unfamiliar. Something cool was placed on her forehead and the weight near her waist shifted. Someone was sitting, leaning over to whisper something in her ear.
"Don't you worry, Hermione. Ginny will be here soon."
Everything faded.
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"This is far too dangerous. One hour, then everyone returns to their secured locations. We've already arranged-"
"Hannah, is she waking up again?"
"Gin, we've already told you-"
"I swear, look at her hand."
Silence spread over the room for a single moment, then chaos ensued. What seemed like a hundred voices began to speak at once while a deep voice, the first voice Hermione could remember hearing, began to hush others.
"Everyone out." He said sternly.
Her eyes began to open, the light temporarily blinding her as she blinked slowly. As her vision began to settle, she made out the outlines of people exiting the room through a door on her left. Medical instruments and potions were scattered throughout the room on trays and tables, and a healer bustled around the room to usher others out and collect equipment.
"Take deep breaths." The girl said firmly. "Do you know where you are?"
Hermione opened her mouth to speak but no words formed. She shook her head, no, and coughed deeply. The healer raised a glass of water to her lips and helped her take a sip.
"Do you remember what happened to you?"
Again, Hermione shook her head.
"You went through a bit of an ordeal and were asleep for a while. Everything is going to be okay. Can you try to speak?"
After another cough, Hermione's voice came out scratchy and foreign to her own ears. "I can try."
"Good." The healer affirmed, taking her pulse. "What's the last thing you remember?"
It felt as if everything in her mind were being erased as she tried to come up with words. Names and places on the tip of her tongue disappeared as she tried to verbalize answers, images in her mind replacing the blackness as they came to pass.
"I remember my mum and dad… Being at home with them."
Her companion's face dropped. "When, before the war?"
Confusion swept over Hermione and she asked what would be the first of many questions.
"What war?"
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Two people entered the room immediately following the healer's physical examination of Hermione. A young looking healer with long blonde hair tied back and introduced herself as an old classmate, Hannah Abbott. The other, a tall man in colorful robes who introduced himself as Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"Minister of Magic." he said, reaching out to shake her hand. "We've met before."
The word, magic, didn't surprise her as much as it should have. Somewhere, deep inside, it resonated with her.
"What's happened to me? And where are my parents?"
Nervous looks were exchanged between the four.
"Hermione, do you remember anything about Hogwarts?"
The girl in bed shook her head, no, but again the word struck a chord of familiarity.
"Do you remember anything about magic?"
Despite confusion, some part of her mind or soul compelled her to say, "Yes."
"Then this will all make sense later on… When we can properly explain." The Minister began. "There was a war, and you were a very important component to our victory."
He spoke slowly as if waiting for the information to sink in or register.
"After the final battle, some of the opposing forces escaped and had taken you hostage. We were unable to locate you for... a period of time, until our aurors moved in on one of their locations and found you. You've been here, in a closed wing of St. Mungos Hospital, for two weeks."
Her stomach turned.
"There were signs of the cruciatus curse, which could point to your memory loss as well." Hannah said calmly. So many questions passed through her mind, all of which pushed aside as the most important rang out.
"Will I regain my memory?"
Her old peer passed over a vial of honey colored potion. "There are things we can try later on. The important thing now is making sure you're physically well and that you're moved to a safe house."
"Is that where my parents are?"
Shacklebolt moved to the door, nodding his head at the room. "I have a meeting shortly with Bill. He should be in soon after with a plan of motion, when we will transport and to which location. Hermione, best of luck to you."
Immediately following his exit, Hannah grabbed Hermione's hand.
"Your parents loved you so much, Hermione..."
Her heart sank in her chest.
"War is a horrible time. Everyone makes sacrifices for those they love."
Hermione held a hand up and looked to the window, fighting the tears in the back of her eyes.
"I can't…"
There was a soft knock on the door, which the healer opened quietly. A young redhead walked through with a smile, a stark contrast from the tension in the room.
"Hermione, do you remember Ginny?"
After quietly clearing her throat, Hermione said, "no, I'm sorry."
Her disappointment was almost concealed, but not enough to stop the pang of guilt that shot through Hermione's chest.
"That's alright." Ginny said, sitting at the foot of her bed. "We have a lot of catching up to do anyways, we'll just add it to the list."
With that, Hannah left the room and the two girls began to talk. Ginny was a dictionary of knowledge, with an answer to nearly every question Hermione had. Questions of magic, school, the war, the Order, the people who had surrounded them earlier... Stories of her own childhood, the battle of Hogwarts, and the months that followed were foreign to her ears. They sat alone for what seemed like hours, until there was yet another knock on the door.
"Come in!" Ginny called out, comfortably taking control of the room. Hermione watched her turn her head and smile kindly at the unfamiliar healer walking in. Hermione admired her old friend's bravery and loyalty , all of which she was displaying to a girl who couldn't even remember her name.