I don't own the story or the characters of Harry Potter, this work is entirely fan-made. The rights to everything Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. I also have no beta or proof-reader (at least not a human one) so expect some mistakes from time to time.
Before we start, I have literally no background in medicine, nor do I have any experience with any injuries this severe, but I have researched to the best of my ability with limited time and I think this works. Please excuse any mistakes that may arise in this story in regards to injuries and complex medicine.
Hermione saw lights swimming through her vision and heard sirens blaring as she sped off to hospital in the back of an ambulance, no Harry in sight. She had overheard one of the people in the ambulance throw the words 'concussion', 'minor' and 'confused' around a few times but still, her only thought was of the black-haired man that she missed so dearly on this ride. Through the chaos of tonight, she could still remember their date. How Harry had looked at her as if she was the most beautiful person in the world. The silent moments where they had sneaked glances at each other over their food. Even just the arm that was wrapped around her waist when they walked out. But all else was… fuzzy, a haze. She didn't remember specifically what had happened to them beyond a fight against some masked man. She couldn't recall how her arm became limp, painful and bent in the wrong direction. Her dress colour evaded her, though she could tell that the straps on her shoulder were slick with something and the bottom of it, near her shoes, was torn and tattered. The paramedics had apparently told her what they thought she was suffering through three times over already, yet the words slipped her mind, though she was certain that the answer was just on the tip of her tongue. As the noise of the van whirred and the lights by the stretcher spun through her head, Hermione felt sicker by the minute. Eventually, it got too much for her and she vomited onto the flimsy metal sheet that they had draped over her body. Her tears had not stopped falling the whole time.
Harry sat upright, though the nameless figures in a blurry mess had told him not to, and after multiple times, they relented and one man sat next to him to support his back. The paramedics, though he never understood what they were saying, were rapidly spitting out terms to each other. His neck, they said in normal terms at least, was bruised beyond belief and that his windpipe was lucky not to be any narrower. Several times, they relayed other terms to him that seemed like something straight out of Silent Witness or Casualty like a possible laryngeal fracture, or a bruised ribcage. They meant that Mitchell had basically broken him. Sitting up was starting to seem like their main goal to him now. There were questions from the paramedics that whizzed by him, then there was one that they asked to try and make him comfortable.
"So, how was your date with Miss Granger?" One of them said the one who was holding his back straight. Harry took a deep breath that came out more like a reverse wheeze and slowly tried to answer. Most of what he said was a hoarse whisper.
"It was good. We've been fr- friends for a lo- a long time and we decided th- that we wanted more out of our lives." He shuddered and leaned back into the hand of the paramedic.
"Alright that wasn't a good sign, I'm afraid that you may have a problem breathing, so I'm going to have to ask you to stop trying to talk for the time being."
Harry nodded and closed his eyes, thinking of Hermione and how much pain she must be in. He wanted to ask if he could see her when they got to the hospital but any effort to open his mouth was thwarted by the stern look of the lady across from his stretcher-seat.
There was a team of people waiting to escort the two to examination rooms for x-rays and tests. Hermione and Harry caught a short glimpse of one another when they were being wheeled through the halls. Harry saw her face, the right side caked in the blood that he assumed came from underneath the large sterile bandage that they had wrapped around her head like a mummification crown. Her dress, once a blue colour, from the chest up was grey from the tarmac or a deep sort of wine colour which he knew came from her blood. He tried to reach out an arm to her, but she didn't try to take it and pointed at it and drew a clear line along her elbow with her finger.
Hermione looked over with longing eyes and though she could see next to nothing through the pinpoint that her normal vision had narrowed to, she could tell that Harry's blotchy purple and red neck was not good in the slightest. She wanted to tear up again but knew that she had to be strong for his sake, for both of their sake's. They were eventually separated when they got to the room where their x-rays would be taken and finally, the doors barred them from each other's faces each painted with sorrow and pain.
"What the hell do you mean?! I am her mother! I need to see my Hermione!" Sarah Granger told the receptionist, who still only gave her an apologetic look. The poor woman was getting quite tired of the girl's mother in her face and eventually just got one of the doctors to deal with it whilst she took a breather and calmed herself down.
"Madam, as she told you, you cannot go and see either of them right now. Mr Potter is currently in surgery and your daughter is currently having a cast put on. I must stress that you have to abide by the hospital rules. And if you don't, we shall be forced to remove you from the premises until you have calmed down and they're allowed to be seen. Now, please go and sit in the waiting area. We shall call you when they are ready to be seen." His tone left nothing to the imagination, he meant it clear as day. Then Mrs Granger heard familiar voices.
"Yes, I'm sorry to bother you, but are we able to see Hermione Granger and Harry Potter yet?" The receptionist shook her head and told them the same thing that she had told the crazy lady over there. She pointed to where Sarah was sat in a terrible huff. When she saw her husband, she almost ran to him and greeted his parents with the same response, but she just looked up and met eyes with him.
"David, they won't let me go and see her yet. Oh, why did she have to go on that date with the idiotic, moronic- imbecile? She's only gone and gotten herself a broken arm and a concussion. I do hope that the two men responsible pay for this dearly!" She spat the last part out and confused the other Grangers. Donald shook his head.
"There was only one man apprehended for doing this and I'm sure he will get what the law demands. Were you told something different by the police?" Sarah held her nose up and shook her head.
"No. I'm talking about the real reason that my daughter is in that bloody cast now. That insufferable boy. If she hadn't gone to him and disobeyed me, then none of this would've happened. She wouldn't have been put in the crosshairs of a raving lunatic out to kill her friend." Most of the surrounding visitors were looking at her with either confusion, sadness or annoyance. Not to mention her fuming husband who was currently shaking with rage. He took a calming breath.
"We aren't going to argue this out here. Or anywhere else. I can't do this Sarah. I didn't want this to have to come to extremes but you and I are simply not able to work together anymore." The room could've heard the sound of Sarah Granger's heart that was shattering in her chest… if it weren't for her curses and shouting that ensued.
"You are a horrible person, David. And a terrible fucking father. You don't care about her stability or her life choices. You only care about what makes her happy, not what she needs and has to do to become successful. You must've been lying to me all this time, you never bloody loved me, did you?!" Now that she was waiting for a response from a distraught David Granger, one could literally have heard a pin drop.
"No, you're wrong. I did love you." He sniffed. "But the woman I fell in love with was not a heartless being that cared only about stability. She loved her daughter more than she cared about herself, more than she cared about success. I cannot fathom Hermione being around you, or us, when you explode. You've changed Sarah, and I do not- cannot… love the person you have become." A solitary tear ran down his cheek and with a soft plink fell to the floor. Sarah was tensing and shaking her head so violently, you would think that it might fall off. But before she could lunge for him, his mother and father stepped in front of him and a security guard grabbed her shaking wrist.
"Madam, you need to leave. Now. And unless you want to have the police involved, I would recommend that you leave this man alone." The guard said, now flanked by two others who would surely make her life a living hell by calling the police and dragging her from the hospital. With a turn of her heel, Sarah was off down the hall and in the lift before you could say attitude. With her gone, David slumped into an unoccupied seat and held his head in his hands, silently shivering with sobs. His reaction around the room was met with largely sympathetic looks, then indifference as the people turned back to their phones or books. Donald and Matilda took up a seat on either side of their son and held his shoulders as he tried to comprehend what had happened and what had gone so completely wrong.
Hours passed and they were allowed to see Hermione, cast and all. She had been able to take some medication for the sensations in her head that the concussion caused and she had talked to her family. Hermione cradled an ice pack to her forehead too, as was recommended by the doctors that had checked her injuries, along with some rest once she was done with the visitors. After discussing what had happened and what she could piece together, she was in tears again, just at the thought of this happening. Through her choked sobs though, the three adults could make out a few constant words.
"Harry? How is Harry? Please, I want to see him." She would say over and over until she fell back to sleep and let the ice pack slip off her head. David looked at his parents with sadness in his eyes, though he was overjoyed to see Hermione and to know that she would fine and back to her normal self in about 8 weeks.
"When he gets out of surgery, I need to see Harry. He was protecting Hermione the whole time. He told her to run whilst he stopped that crazy man, and now he's paying the price for it." His parents understood and nodded along slowly. David took his daughter's hand in his and leaned back in his chair, eventually falling to sleep, still holding her hand.
When Harry eventually woke up, he had a mask strapped to his face and a stiff upper body. He tried to move, but a nurse rushed over and told him otherwise.
"Sir, you need to calm down. You're alright. You need to keep that mask on, your windpipe is still bruised but has had surgery and will be sore for a while. And don't be trying to lie down without some assistance because you have two broken ribs and lying down could make them come out of place before they heal. If you must talk, talk slowly and softly, got it? Do you need anything else in the meantime?" He slowly nodded and pointed to his phone lying on the bedside table. She passed him the phone and he dialled the number of Mr Arthur Weasley. The tone rang a few times before he picked up.
"Harry, lovely to hear from you. Do you need anything?" He said jovially. Clearly, he didn't know what had happened. Harry tried to croak out a response, but it was too quiet to be heard. The nurse gestured to the phone and then herself. She was asking if she could talk to them for him. He nodded and handed her the phone.
"Hello, who is this speaking please?" She asked as he replied with his name. "Ah, yes, Mr Weasley. I'm afraid Harry Potter and his friend were attacked earlier this evening. They're both at the hospital and they will both be fine. However, I think he would like to see you if it is alright." Harry nodded along with her words, letting her know she was right. "Yes, yes, the visiting hours are not ending for another two, so you can come and see him. Though, we don't allow more than four visitors at once." When she had finished and hung up, she handed the phone back to Harry, who put it on the bedside table and nestled as comfortably as was possible into the upright pillow to support his back.
"I'm afraid you might be here for a while, Mr Potter, so I have asked them to bring you some changes of clothes. And don't worry, you'll be fine in a few weeks as long as you stay here and do what we need you to do. Sound good?" He made a thumbs-up gesture but quickly held up a finger to indicate one more thing. She leaned in and listened carefully.
"Please can I see Hermione Granger? I need to know that she's ok."
Molly Weasley walked up to the receptionist's desk with Arthur and Ron in tow, looking frantically around for Harry and holding his bag of things.
"Yes, we're here to see Harry Potter?" The lady at the front desk nodded and searched up his ward and bed number.
"Right, he's in the… Raven's ward with… Nurse Pomfrey in bed 5. She should be done and you can go and see him now." She smiled at them. They nodded in thanks and walked down the hallway until they reached the place where the lady had said he was staying. With horror they saw Harry's figure, sitting upright in his bed, reading some fiction book that someone had gathered for him from the shop. He had a piece of breathing apparatus attached to his mouth and nose, along with multiple cuts, bruises and scars along his face. His neck was an angry puce colour and the bruises looked like his neck had been run over by a truck. They could see the small area where Harry's neck had fallen in a bit, just below his adam's apple. He moved his head up and saw them all, horrified and saddened by his disfigurement, but he still smiled to them, weak as it was.
"Oh, Harry. How are you feeling?" Was all that Molly felt she could ask. With the tube connecting to a piece of technology that kept his breathing steady and the marks around his neck, she could only guess that he was just short of agony. He put the book down and folded over the edge of the page to mark his spot, then put it down and looked at the three Weasleys. They heard his voice, raspy and strained, but they understood him nonetheless.
"Better than before. They said I have a treatable laryngeal fracture, bruised oesophagus and two broken ribs, but aside from that, I'm just peachy." He smiled despite the heart-shattering words that he said. "Thank you for coming. I didn't really know who else to call. My Aunt and Uncle definitely wouldn't have picked up and I think Hermione needs her parents more than I need them. I'm not saying that you were my last choice, but still, I'm grateful." Molly sat next to him and brushed some of his fringe away from his forehead.
"Harry you're family. You didn't have to ask." Ron said, surprisingly sincere from the guy who, just yesterday left his clothes all over his flat whilst having a casual sex romp with his girlfriend on their sofa. Arthur and Molly agreed with Ron wholeheartedly.
"So, let's talk about something other than the injuries right now. How was your date with Hermione?" Molly asked with a motherly smile. Ron sniggered and Arthur just sat in thought next to the bed.
"It was great actually, before the… well, you know. We had steaks from the Blue Rook, actually the place I work. But I think Hermione knew that and wanted to embarrass me anyway." He said with a grin before he sat back and took a very deep breath. "Apparently, she thinks that it's funny that I'll be made fun of when I go back to work, just for going on a date there with her. But you know what, I don't really care. It was a special night and I- I love her." He took another deep and shaky breath. "You'll go and see her after you leave me, won't you? If you do, please tell her that I'm fine and that I miss her." Mrs Weasley was still very teary, had been since she saw him but Arthur had stayed pretty silent the whole time, but he agreed and promised that they would be back at the same time tomorrow. Then his face turned more serious than Harry had ever seen it before.
"Harry, I want you to know that that man will be brought to justice. I still have a friend in the Police who told me that they have Mitchell Johnson in custody and will be holding him whilst a court date is set. He will go to prison, Harry. I promise." The boy nodded and said his thanks and goodbyes before they left the hospital ward.
Just minutes later, the three red-heads showed up outside the room that Hermione was in and saw Mr Ganger and his parents in there with her. They also looked to be saying their goodnights, just as the Weasley's had with Harry. After walking out and seeing them, the Grangers gave them their thanks for coming.
"It's alright. Hermione is as much family as Harry is to us. Are we allowed to go and see her now?" Hermione's family nodded and went on their way, down the hall where the Weasley's had just come from.
The ward was far more packed than Harry's was, but was also just as quiet considering that this was the head injury area. Hermione spotted them and their signature red hair from the furthest bed from the door and waved with the arm that wasn't in a cast. They walked over and hugged Hermione, careful not to touch her arm or shoulder.
"Thanks for coming, but you really didn't need to. I'll be fine in about eight weeks, back to normal." Hermione reassured them, though they only gave her back sceptical looks. Ron spoke up and asked the question that was on all three of their minds.
"So, if you're back up to scratch in eight weeks, how long is Harry going to be here?" Hermione shook her head worry.
"What do you mean? How badly is he hurt? Please tell me." It wasn't a request. Arthur was the only one strong enough to answer.
"Hermione, sit down for this. He will be fine but he is quite banged up." Hermione gave him a look that pleaded to him to say how badly. "He had two broken ribs, a treatable fracture in his larynx and a bruised oesophagus. Hermione, whatever you're thinking, don't blame-," Hermione started to break down upon hearing Harry's extensive injuries. She cried and let silent tears fall down her face.
"Harry told me to run while he stopped that crazy person from attacking me. I didn't listen to him- and- and he got worried about me, and he didn't see that man running up to him and smash him into the car. It is my fault, so don't try to convince me otherwise." Hermione sniffled out. The consoling words of Mrs Weasley were enough for anyone to stop crying and it certainly worked for Hermione in that moment.