u asked for it so heres ur update

thnx for the gr8 reviews =)

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Chapter Five: St. John's General Hospital

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The next time Hermione opened her eyes, she found herself surrounded by heavy machines and equipment. She sat up quickly on her bed and saw someone walk past her door. "Excuse me!" she shouted, flailing her arms about.

"Yes, miss. Can I help you?"

"Could you tell me..." she leaned closer, "Where, um, Healer Johnson is?"

"Healer...Um, help me out here..."

Shit, Hermione! Way to go... "Um, who are you?" She regretted her choice of words already. God, she sounded stupid.

"My name is Dr. Martins, and you're Hermione Granger, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Yes, right- sir, I mean doctor. I am Hermione Granger." He pulled out a chair from beside her bed and sat down.

"Hermione, that's an unusual name," he commented, smiling.

"Oh, um...thanks...I think," she replied with a large fake smile. She didn't want to sound like a total idiot, but it was her only choice, "Excuse me, sir...doctor." He nodded. Hermione lowered her voice, even though they were the only two in the room, "How- how did I get here?"

"Well, you were brought in by...a particularly strange man. He said that you were to be taken for a biopsy and a blood test and-"

"For a what?"

He seemed to be struggling with the words, "Erm, a biopsy, Miss Granger, it's a rather simple test...a bone marrow analysis to check for...leukemia." Her heart dropped.

"No. Ha-ha...no," she said, pushing herself as far back on her bed as she could. "I do not have..." she avoided saying 'leukemia' as if it was something offensive, "...that."

"No, I never said you did-"

"Then why the bloody hell am I here?!" she demanded, her voice rising. She never swore but she figured this was an exception.

"Now, calm down. You're only here so we can take a few simple tests...that's all. Ok?"

"B-But...what if I do have..."

"Listen...Hermione...we don't know anything for sure yet, ok? I just want you to relax and try and get some rest. You'll need it."

"But I just woke up."

"Well, if you don't want to sleep, you can always read." Her face lit up slightly and he smiled. "I'll see what I can do." He got up and left the room. Hermione buried her face in her hands and sighed. I cannot handle this... she thought silently to herself.

Hermione spent most of the day reading novels Dr. Martins brought her. It wasn't the same as reading Hogwarts: A History or New Theory of Numerology, but she would just have to make do. At around five o'clock she heard a knock on the door. "Hello," she said lazily, not bothering to look up from her book.

"Hello, Miss...Hermione Granger is it?"

"Yes," she replied, looking at the woman standing in the door. "...You're not Dr. Martins."

"That's correct," she said smiling.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Dr. Edwin, but you can call me Lydia if you'd prefer that."

"Ok, Lydia."

"Miss Granger, I hate to intrude, but...its time." Hermione squirmed on her bed. "There's really nothing to be afraid of...just stay calm, alright?" Calm? CALM?! How do you expect me to stay calm at a time like this?! Hermione nodded reluctantly. Like hell I'm going. Dr. Edwin attempted to help Hermione into a wheelchair but she kept squirming.

"Please, Lydia...I don't want to," she said as she started to cry.

"Hermione, I promise you," she said with a reassuring smile, "That it isn't as bad as you think it'll be." Hermione whimpered and got up to sit in the wheelchair.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"I know, honey...But you'll just have to trust me, alright? You'll be fine." She wheeled Hermione out the door and down the hall in silence.

---

"Not too loud, dear. Don't want to wake her..." Hermione opened her eyes to find her very tense looking parents hovering over her bed.

"Hermione, dear!" her mother cried, pulling her into a tight hug, "We've been so worried! How are you? Are you ok? Do you need anything? Do you want anything?" Tears were spilling down her cheeks.

Ron, she thought, I want Ron. "I'm ok, mum." Her mother looked close to a nervous breakdown. "Really," she added reassuringly.

"Ok, honey...ok." Mr. Granger wrapped his arms around his wife as she sobbed into her daughter's shoulder. Words couldn't convey what each of them was feeling: Confusion...depression...love. They spent over an hour talking, mostly about school and Hermione's friends; things to keep her mind off of being in the hospital. But, after talking for so long, it was getting harder and harder to avoid the subject.

"So. Hermione. How are you feeling," her father started, "What did they do to you." She wished he hadn't brought it up. The memory was painful enough without having to repeat it.

"Well..." Both her parents looked thoroughly distraught. "They sort of stuck this big needle thingy in my hip." Her mother bit her bottom lip. "It didn't really hurt...well, yes...it did. It hurt a lot."

"Oh, honey," her mom sighed, stroking Hermione's head.

"They also took a blood sample. That didn't hurt as much. They said they'd have the results-" she inhaled deeply, "As soon as...possible."

"Sweetheart, we're here for you when you need us," her dad said calmly, attempting a comforting smile.

"Thanks, daddy."

"Oh, look at the time, we really should be going."

"We'll be back again tomorrow, Hermione." They both got up and gathered up their jackets. Hermione's mother pulled her into another tight hug, and her father placed a kiss on her forehead. Just as they were about to exit the room-

"Ah, you must be Hermione's parents."

"Y-Yes..." They shot worried glances at each other.

"Pleased to meet you, my name is Dr. Edwin." They all shook hands. "Erm. I think you may want to sit down...I'm afraid we have some bad news."

---

That was it. Her world was officially over. What was left? Nothing. There was nothing. I'm going to die. Plain and simple. "I'm going to die, aren't I?" Hermione whispered. She wasn't panicking. She wasn't even the least bit frightened. The initial shock was too much for her mind and body to handle.

"Of course not, dear," Lydia said in what seemed like an understanding voice.

"Don't lie," she responded, still whispering. "I know it. I know it. Everyone who has leukemia dies from it."

"That's not true Herm..." She wasn't listening. She was bent over on her bed crying hysterically into her sheets. Lydia patted her back awkwardly, but she just shook her hand off. Hermione's parents looked beyond devastated. Mrs. Granger clung to her husband's shirt as he held his arms around her.

"Our baby girl," she whispered, close to breaking down completely.

"I'll be back in a while," Lydia said, getting to her feet, "If you need anything, Hermione, you just press that ok?" she said, pointing to a little red button on the wall behind her. Hermione didn't answer; she continued crying all over her bedspread.

Words failed to come out of her mouth as she watched her parents leave half an hour later. "We'll be back as soon as we can..." her father said, his voice cracking with emotion. Her mother, on the other hand, was in no state to speak. She waved a final farewell with soggy tissues stuffed in her hand.

Hermione rested her head back on her pillow. She wished she could wake up in her dorm and have this all be a dream. She wished she could see Ron and Harry and Ginny. She wished she could understand why everything happened to her. Clouded by her own thoughts, Hermione let a wave of dreamless sleep sweep over her.

---

The days passed, and Hermione seemed to be growing weaker not because she was sick, but because depression was creeping up on her...fast. She longed for her own bed and her school books and her freedom, really. Life wasn't going as planned...at all.

She had grown very fond of Lydia. They spent hours together, reading and talking. Hermione's parents visited everyday but were constantly at a loss for words. Lydia was the only person Hermione could really talk to who didn't burst into tears every time they saw her. She would comfort her at night when no one else was around, she would talk to Hermione about her friends and her family, but most of all, she listened. And for that, Hermione was thankful.

On Saturday during the late afternoon, Hermione received a most unexpected visit.

"Special delivery for a Miss Hermione Jane Granger." She looked up. No one called her by her full name except her parents.

"From whom, may I ask?"

"A Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley?" Ron! She thought happily to herself, He's sent me something! Hermione let out an excited squeal and hobbled over to the door. She opened it to find herself face to face with Ron.

"R-Ron! Ron!" she gasped, "What are you doing here?"

"Now, now. Is that any way to greet someone?" he said with a smile and handed her a bouquet of flowers. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. Only then did she notice Harry, Ginny and Professor McGonagall behind him.

"Harry! Ginny! ...Professor?" McGonagall looked particularly moody, apparently not used to wearing Muggle clothing. She had on a hideous lavender dress with a white cardigan over it. She was also wearing equally ugly white shoes to match. Hermione suppressed a giggle.

"How are you?" Ron asked; the concerned look was back on his freckled face. He walked over to her bedside table and placed the flowers on it.

"I'm ok," she replied casually, which was very untrue. Her hair was significantly thinner and most of its usual bushiness was gone. There were at least a dozen bruises divided equally among her legs and a few on her arms. She was very also very pale. To put it politely, she looked like hell. They all stared at her in silence. "No," she sighed, "No, I'm not."

"You're gonna get better, Hermione," Ginny said in a high-pitched voice much unlike her own. Hermione sighed.

"What if I don't, Ginny? What if...what if I don't..."

"What if you do?" she retorted. Hermione never considered this. Her thoughts had been so negative lately that she was so sure that her life was over. She was so sure that in a few days, weeks or months she would surely be gone. She smiled.

"Ginny...oh, Ginny!" she cried, pulling her friend into a hug. "I know. You're right, I shouldn't be so negative," she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of the gown she was given, "I just- God, I'm so depressed lately."

"It's ok, it's ok. We're here," she said in a comforting tone, rubbing Hermione's back."

"Miss Granger...Hermione," McGonagall said, "We are here for you if you need us, and I'm sure your friends here would be more than happy to stay with you a while."

"Thank you, professor."

"Here," said Harry, handing her a large bag. Hermione opened it to find cards, chocolates, candy and other gifts.

"What's this?"

"Just stuff. Well, everyone knows about you, right? So, they sent a few things."

"Thanks, Harry," she said with a smile, a real smile.

"No problem. Erm, I feel like a coffee...anyone care to join me?" he questioned, staring at Ginny and McGonagall and nodding his head towards the door.

"Sure, Harry," Ginny said, linking her arm in his and strolling out the door. Professor McGonagall nodded and followed them down the hall.

"I've missed you," Hermione whispered, depositing her gifts on her bed and turning to face Ron.

"Really?"

"You have no idea." She pressed herself firmly against his chest as his arms encircled her waist. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead and she let out a sigh. He could feel her hot breath through his jumper as she grabbed a handful of his sweater in her hands. "Ron," she whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Don't leave."

"What?"

"Don't leave me."

"But-"

"Ron...please. I've been going crazy in here on my own. If I don't have someone to talk to I'll go completely bonkers. Lydia's not always available and-"

"Who's Lydia?"

"My doctor." Ron looked puzzled.

"What- What's a doctor?"

"Erm, she's like a Healer, really...without the magic."

"I see...Hermione," he said, bending down to look her in the eyes, "I can't promise you anything just yet." She nodded. "But I'll see what I can do, alright?" She nodded again. He leaned forward, giving her a kiss on the lips. There was a loud knock on the door and both of them jumped, looking flustered.

"Ooh, is this your friend, Hermione?"

"Yes, this is Ron. Ron, this is Lydia Edwin...my doctor." Ron stuck out his hand awkwardly.

"Erm, nice to meet you," he mumbled.

"Oh, yes! Quite a pleasure! Hermione's told me a lot about you." Hermione blushed. "And I hate to have to do this but it's time for your chemo, Hermione."

"Her what? What are you going to do to her?!"

"My chemotherapy, Ron. It's ok."

"What the ruddy hell is chem-"

"Shh. I'll be back in a while...please stay, Ron."

"Hermione, I-"

"Please?" she begged. Ron hesitated.

"Of course." She smiled as Lydia took her hand gently and guided her out the door.

---

Hermione was in no state to talk when she came back. She lay unconscious for hours while Ron sat beside her bed clutching her hand. It was four o'clock in the morning before Ron finally fell asleep at her side...Hermione opened her eyes to find him dozing with her hand in his. She smiled. God, he was cute when he was sleeping. She moved closer to him on the bed and used her free hand to play with his hair. I love you so much, she thought. Ron stirred.

"'Mione?" he mumbled, his eyes still closed.

"Shhh." She used the hand that was still in his hair to press his head against her chest. The warm sensation of him breathing into her soothed her before she fell asleep again.

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Well? Waddaya think?? Im personally happy with the end bit there...-sigh- so cute...