Chapter 7 - Season Opener (1st Half)
Frantic didn't even begin to describe Hermione Granger's day come Monday morning. From the minute she clambered out of bed, her day just seemed to snowball into calamity after calamity.
The steam from her morning shower had caused her already frizzy and bushy hair to multiply in volume. The resulting mess made her head look several times larger. The milk she had poured for her morning bowl of porridge had long turned sour, and she had spat it out all over the session plans laid out on her kitchen table. Determined to recover from her poor start, Hermione gathered her belongings, yelled out a hurried goodbye to her showering flatmate, and left for work.
Hastily unlocking her car, Hermione threw her bag into the passenger seat, put the key into the ignition and turned. The engine gave a feeble lurch and did not start. She tried again, and the result was the same.
"No, no, no, not today, please!" she cried, thumping the steering wheel.
She tried turning the key once more before giving up with a groan of frustration. Spitting out some hair trapped in her mouth, Hermione grabbed her bag and withdrew her phone before calling an Uber to get her to S.P.E.W. on time.
Reaching the campus, Hermione rushed into her office and began to rewrite the session plans that she had ruined at breakfast. Deciding it wasn't worth risking another food-related incident with her notes, Hermione skipped grabbing something to eat, despite the loud rumbles from her stomach.
However, she eventually found herself cursing her own handwritten notes, which she now realised were undecipherable and an incoherent mess. Grabbing a stack of books from the bookshelf in her office, Hermione spent the next few hours diligently redoing her work from scratch.
She worked tirelessly to ensure her patient received the best care, even to her own personal detriment, by ignoring the pangs of hunger she experienced throughout the morning. Hermione finally finished rewriting all of her plans and notes in more legible handwriting when her stomach gave a feeble lurch, and her head started to spin.
The office and its contents seemed to wobble around her as her vision started to falter. Glancing at her wristwatch, Hermione was alarmed to see that it was now 14:53—she had neglected food for the whole day. Deciding she was in no fit state to see a patient like this, Hermione got to her feet, grabbed her purse from her bag and headed out of the office in search of food.
Whilst the S.P.E.W. campus offered a catered canteen with hot and cold food, Hermione was in too much of a rush for a sit-down meal today. Opting instead for the Subway restaurant across the road, Hermione queued up and ordered a Chicken Teriyaki on Italian bread. After rushing back to her office, Hermione had just unwrapped her sandwich when a notification on her phone distracted her. Snatching up the phone, Hermione read the Instagram notification.
"Cormac McLaggen has posted 5 new pictures."
With a quick glance at the time on her phone, Hermione instinctively pressed the notification. Cormac had once again shared pictures of himself with Pansy Parkinson, and this time, the pair were on his father's yacht in Dubai. He wore a red and gold polo shirt and white cargo shorts, a colour combination that really accentuated his blue eyes. Pansy, meanwhile, wore a green tunic dress, and her arms were wrapped around Cormac's midriff in all five pictures.
Hermione became too engrossed in the pictures to notice the clock as it slowly ticked towards four. Any thoughts of her upcoming patient, Ronald Weasley, or her lunch were pushed aside.
Ron, Lavender, and Pig had departed their Greenwich flat just before three that afternoon to drive south to St. George's University in Tooting, the location of the S.P.E.W. campus. Although the journey only took thirty minutes, Ron had been adamant they needed plenty of time for the drive, just in case of traffic. In reality, he just wanted the opportunity to clear his head before the therapist potentially screwed with his thoughts or made him second guess himself.
Ron formulated a strategy for himself. He would avoid revealing anything about himself to this Doctor Granger. No matter how much she dug or manipulated him, Ron would not cave. He would steer the conversation away from himself, he would control what they discussed, and he most definitely wouldn't get attached.
As Lavender pulled into the car park and tried to find a suitable parking spot, Ron braced himself mentally for what was to come. It took her several minutes to find a space with a disability bay but having done so, neither occupant made to exit the vehicle. They sat in silence, with Pig's drooling in the backseat making the only sounds, an unspoken mutual agreement that they would not go in until the other made the first move.
After fifteen minutes of quiet contemplation, Ron turned to Lavender and declared, "Okay, I'm ready. Let's go in."
"Good, you'll do fine. Just don't stress or think this woman's trying to get into your head," Lavender said, getting out of the vehicle and withdrawing the wheelchair from the boot.
"Thanks," Ron muttered as she helped lower him into the seat.
"How long do you think you'll be? I can wheel you in and then come and wait here with Pig. Just call me when you're done?" Lavender asked as she wheeled him towards the entrance.
"Only an hour—What are you doing here?" Ron shouted as he spotted Harry, of all people, leaning against the rail leading into the reception of the S.P.E.W. building.
Harry grinned at him and wandered over.
"Figured you could use the company. Knew you'd need moral support in case you chickened out," Harry said with an exaggerated wink.
Ron responded with a rude hand gesture and turned back to Lavender and said, "Seeing as this tosser is here, you can head home if you want?"
"Are you sure? I can wait. I don't mind," Lavender replied, although her tone seemed unconvincing.
"Lav, I know how you feel about hospitals. We'll be fine, won't we, Harry?"
"Of course," Harry said, taking the wheelchair from Lavender and turning towards the building.
"Good luck!" Ron heard Lavender shout as they entered the hospital and headed to the reception desk.
"Hi, I have an appointment with Dr Granger?" Ron said to the woman who sat typing away behind the reception desk.
"First time?" she asked without looking up from her monitor.
"Uh—yes," Ron replied, starting to feel a little anxious.
"Fill this out, and then head straight to emotional welfare room two on the left." She slid a clipboard towards him and waved towards a corridor beyond the waiting area.
Ron filled out the forms, which contained routine questions such as his name, age, date of birth, and medical history. He then handed it back to the receptionist, who took it without looking up.
"You've missed the backside of the form," she said, thrusting the clipboard back out to him after quickly scanning the pages.
Ron took the clipboard from her again and proceeded to fill out the missing page before returning it.
"The date is wrong. Today's the fifth," the receptionist growled, clearly frustrated as she dropped the clipboard onto the desk.
Ron's neck turned red from embarrassment as he quickly corrected the date on the form and handed it back.
"Sign the waiver, please," she drawled, sliding the clipboard back to him yet again.
This time, Harry snatched up the clipboard and leaned casually against the reception desk.
"Hi, Moira Coboc, is it?" he asked, reading her name badge.
The receptionist looked up properly for the first time with a false smile on her face and nodded.
"Great. Well, as you can see, Moira Coboc, my friend here, is paralysed from the waist down. Now I'm not saying that excuses him from filling out forms correctly, but considering his predicament, how about you help him out and mark the parts he needs to complete?" Harry said scathingly.
Moira stood up from her seat and looked over the desk to see Ron in a wheelchair. Her face immediately turned pale, and her mouth opened in a comical O.
"I—I'm so sorry," she choked. "It's all sorted now, you just need to sign, and you can head straight into Hermione's office."
Ron finally signed the waiver, mouthed an apology to Moira as Harry muttered criticisms about her and wheeled him down the corridor towards his destination. They arrived at a brown door labelled with a number two and a plaque beside it that read, "Hermione Granger - S.P.E.W. Occupational Therapist."
"I'll be in the waiting area. Good luck," Harry said before knocking on the door and walking away, leaving Ron alone.