I didn't want to wait anymore. here's chapter 2! I don't own anything related to Harry Potter.
Hermione's head was hammering; she had never known such immense pressure behind her eyes. It seemed like a heavy-handed man was stabbing daggers deep into her skull. She attempted to wiggle her fingers, but her body denied her motions; she felt a heaviness on herself that she couldn't explain. Her mouth was dry, her face hurt, and she didn't know why.
Opening her eyes was a blinding experience. Little did her lids move, but it had been more than enough. She groaned in pain as the light attacked her vision. Clamping her eyes shut swiftly to shield them from the searing pain, she cried again at her distress.
Hermione heard a commotion and felt a delicate hand touch hers but couldn't bring herself to open her eyes to investigate the owner. "'Mione? Can you hear me?" The voice and nickname were unfamiliar, but she whimpered in response to the questioning.
"Oh, thank Merlin!" The stranger emitted, and it sent a sharp sting through Hermione's already distressed head. "I'll get the Healers, 'Mione. Stay awake, please!" She felt the pressure leave her hand as the stranger disappeared from her side.
Healer? She assumed some off-color term for a doctor. Her mind began to race, guessing she must be sick or in the infirmary. But why? She couldn't recall what she had been doing last. The memories she could recall were all hazy, unrecognizable visions. Hermione's head throbbed as she tried to remember any circumstance that may have led to her discomfort.
The commotion around her raised anew, and she felt something cold as it was placed upon her forehead. She cried at the contact as another unfamiliar voice addressed her. "Ms. Granger? Can you speak?" Hermione thought it was a stupid question, but when her voice failed to work, she felt a wave of panic wash over her body.
A beeping noise intensified in her ears, and the stranger addressed her again. "Ms. Granger, please relax. You're safe. You're not in any danger." His words did little to calm Hermione's nerves. She tried to open her eyes, but the light blinded her again. She sobbed in agony as she heard someone else order the lights turned lower. She saw the room darken behind her eyelids.
"Take your time. Don't rush yourself, Ms. Granger." This stranger, who she assumed was her doctor, certainly appreciated her surname. "When you're ready, we've shielded the lights." Hermione groaned in discomfort again but cracked her eyes open slightly. The new dimness of the room allowed her to force open her eyes fully. Her vision was hazy, with spots blocking out areas of her peripherals. "You're doing great," she was praised.
"Vitals are normal. Heart rate is good. Blood pressure is stable." Another voice, a nurse not in her line of sight, Hermione assumed, spoke.
"Ms. Granger, take your time, but please do not fall back asleep just yet." At this, Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. Her injuries must have been severe, based on the tones of voices she heard around her.
"My... throat..." she wheezed out. It was challenging to speak; it felt like a razor was being dragged along her windpipe.
"Ms. Granger, we have a potion you need to take. We're going to lean you up, but you have to swallow on your own." She felt the upper half of her body leave the mattress but felt no hands on her lifting her torso. As her body bent at the waist, she moaned in misery anew. "I'm sorry, Ms. Granger, the potion will help," The voice spoke again. Potion - he had said potion again. Hermione couldn't understand what was happening. She felt panic rising again in her, unable to distinguish where she was or who was supporting her.
Hermione felt a thin glass edge graze against her bottom lip and she opened her mouth as wide as her pained jaws would permit. She felt a mucky, foul-tasting fluid flow into her mouth and wanted to retch, but her body protested the movement. Swallowing with difficulty, she felt and tasted as the unpleasant liquid run down her throat. The instant it reached the back wall of her mouth, the discomfort in her throat and jaws dwindled. The sensation continued until she could swear she felt the liquid resting in her stomach, making her body feel more at peace.
"Ms. Granger, can you tell me how you feel?"
"My...my head hurts. Everything aches." Hermione whimpered.
"You've been laying very still for a couple of months, your body will need to adjust." The doctor's clinical response came. "Can you open your eyes for me?"
Doing as directed, Hermione opened her eyes completely. The lights were still dim, but the flaws in her eyesight had faded somewhat. She could barely make out three bodies near her. As her eyes cleared entirely, she could see one person was a middle-aged, brown-haired man in what looked like a green gown. He was flanked by two younger women, a blonde who had a sympathetic look on her face and a stocky young woman with black hair who held a clipboard and a small vial of shimmering purple liquid. Both women were also clad in lime green gowns.
The room around her was unlike any hospital she had ever seen. She had broken her wrist at age eight and recalled the place got a cast being stark white and nearly criminally clean. The room she lay in now was anything but her prior experiences; it actually wasn't a room at all. Around her were walls of red curtains that did not reach the ceiling above. The curtains didn't reach all the way to the floor, either, and she could see a set of feet standing outside. The bed she laid in was more of a cot; it had little support, the metal was chipped, and the pillows were uneven. In the corner of the curtain compartment sat two rickety chairs with a small table in between. The table held a single cup of tea and a book abandoned atop it.
Hermione discerned no medical machines were surrounding her bed, nothing that would produce the faint beeping she could hear. Her fingers were free of a heart rate monitor, and no wires were attached to her chest to monitor her heart. All that filled her very tiny, curtain box was a cart, the bed she laid in, two chairs and the table, and three grown adults in lime green dresses.
"Hello, Ms. Granger," the man smiled. "I am the doctor." He pulled Hermione's attention from the subpar space she occupied. The brown-haired man had a grin on his face.
"Dr. Who?" Hermione questioned.
"Exactly," came a blithe response, and Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "I only jest. I am Healer Smith."
"Where am I?" Hermione asked. Had he said he was a healer? That was the second time someone had referred to the term healer. She felt anxiety rise further in her gut, speculating she may not be in a hospital at all.
"You're at St. Mungos, floor four, the long term residence ward." Healer Smith supplied. "Can you follow my finger with your eyes" and he slid his finger across Hermione's line of vision, back and forth, then up and down. "Hmm," he hummed, adding no additional color. Hermione noted that she had no knowledge of a hospital named St. Mungos. Her parents had mentioned a few, and she had visited one for her arm and a second when her grandfather had died, but never once had she heard the name St. Mungos.
"Where is St. Mungos?" Hermione inquired. Her voice was raised, panic flowing through her tone. She noticed the slight look of surprise on the man's face.
"What is the last thing you remember, Ms. Granger?" Healer Smith had a solemn, concerned look on his face that made Hermione a tad wary.
"I... I was with my parents. We were eating dinner." Hermione closed her eyes and frowned somewhat. It was tough to recall her most recent memory. When she tried to identify how her previous day played out, her head and chest started to burn, causing her to wince and shut her eyes. "I had gotten a good grade, and we were celebrating with some ice cream... I think..." Her voice had quieted, but the panic was evident.
"Does the word Hogwarts remind you of anything?" Healer Smith asked. He pulled out a wooden stick from his gown and waved it at Hermione's face. There were no wires attached; she was sure it held no power.
"No, it doesn't," Hermione stated, shaking her head.
"Thank you, Ms. Granger. You can relax. Healers Abbott and Bulstrode will be running some tests and giving you any necessary potions. I will be back in a moment." Healer Smith walked to the blonde-haired nurse and quietly spoke with her, pointing to a specific glass vial.
"No!" Hermione demanded. "Tell me what is happening! Where am I?" She questioned. Her voice was raw with fear, and she could feel the anxiety overflowing in her gut.
"Ms. Granger, it is alright. I will explain everything when I return. I just need to speak with someone, and I will be back momentarily." He had a polite, sad smile on his face as he slipped out of her curtain room, closing the gap behind him. His absence left Hermione alone with the two young nurses who had been assisting him. Both had been writing on their clipboards and fumbling with their own wooden sticks, which Hermione acknowledged were not standard issue medical equipment.
"What is going on? Where am I?" Hermione challenged with a heightened voice. The pain in her body had dulled significantly since waking, and moving was becoming easier. She attempted to sit up further, but the broad, black-haired nurse pressed her shoulder to halt her progress.
"Drink this, please," the dark-haired woman commanded as she shoved a small glass bottle to Hermione's mouth. Hermione grimaced and drank the contents reluctantly. Her head immediately felt lighter, and her body grew tired. The broad-shouldered nurse supported her neck as Hermione felt herself falling backward to the bed, her eyes slipping shut into a dreamless sleep.