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.
I am extremely sorry for the rather slow update, but I am literally drowning in college work at the moment and I've barely found any time to write as it is. Also, given that there are no exams here, due to Covid-19, I am expected to and have to work practically twice as hard on my coursework and essays, so there might not be another update until this time in March, or later. :(
Hermione had been in the hospital for two days now, and she still hadn't been allowed to see Harry. All that she had heard since the Weasleys left was that Harry was under a strict watch and would be in the hospital for far longer than she was. In fact, she was due to leave that day, provided that she had someone to pick her up and drive her home. Her arm would be staying in a cast for a good few weeks, but until then, all she needed to do was relax and get on with her life.
Her Dad and Grandpa had both offered to pick her up, with varying degrees of insistence, but on his mother's chime-in that Donald could do it, David relented and sagged into the sofa, watching the Nissan pull out of the driveway and onto the road. As he peeked through the blinds, he sighed and returned the look of apprehension that his mum gave him.
"I know that she will be fine, you don't have to worry about her that much. She's a smart and capable young woman, who has a boyfriend who loves her very much. I doubt that Harry would have taken that beating for her if he didn't feel that way. I know that most couples wouldn't even do that." Matilda said softly, stroking her son's hair, the one thing that could always do to calm him down. He sighed again. He knew that she was completely and utterly correct on every account, but it made him worry no less.
"I just think about how all of this shit has happened to her. Me, fine. I could deal with it. I've lived a long enough life so far to understand that it could happen to anyone… but to have it happen to my daughter, not even 19 yet. It hurts more than I can say." He was close to tears again, for the third time that week. "Hermione means everything to me, she represents everything that I have ever worked for, everything I've done as a human, a- a father too. Now she goes and gets attacked by a simple matter of being on a date with someone who was doing the right thing." His knuckles started to turn white from gripping the sofa too hard.
"I know that this life can be cruel, insulting and borderline abusive to people. But Hermione? MY DAUGHTER? She doesn't deserve a single shred of unhappiness or pain and just when she gets what she's been wanting to have since she was 12 years old, she nearly gets everything stripped away- as if it's some sort of punishment. I swore to myself that I would protect her and love her and I haven't been able to do enough. Her mother treats her like a blank slate to instil her divine ideals onto, the love of her life gets assaulted half-to-death with her watching and getting caught in the crossfire. I- I just can't help but feel like all I've ever done for her means nothing after a mistake this large." David was sweating with anger that mingled with the streams flowing from his eyes.
"None of this is your fault, David. Not a single piece of the blame for any of this should be thrust upon you. This is not your fault." The therapist repeated. She had been seeing David since the week that Hermione had gotten home. She had helped him come to terms with the fact that Hermione was not going to be able to be protected by him forever and that she would have others who she could count on. It didn't make it easier for the father, especially since he had been away from Sarah and their house. Word had it that she had not come out of her house for work in days, instead choosing to have all the lights off, curtains drawn and doors locked every waking hour. The neighbours could have worked out by now that they weren't in a good spot at all.
"I know that this isn't the only thing that bothers you about your situation. Please, go on if you're comfortable." She encouraged. Her voice was the only thing that he could hear besides the rustling of the bushes outside the window: they made him feel larger as if he could impact things. He wasn't truly alone, or helpless, but he did need help first, then he could become stronger.
"Well, I have mentioned my wife, Sarah, before have I not?" She nodded. "Well, she and I have been… off. I know that's vague but I can't really describe us any other way. Ever since Hermione started to take her electives in Year 9, she's been trying to mould Hermione into a mini version of her. And I suppose that would have been nice, you know, to keep dentistry and medicine in the family but I know that she wants to and can be so much more. Sarah just puts her down, week after week, filling in the holes that she made and fulfilling opportunities that passed her by. It just- it hurts to see them so different. If I didn't know better, then I'd say that Hermione wasn't her daughter very often. But blood is blood, we can't change that." He took a huge sigh. Silence occupied the room again. His long breaths told the therapist that he was done for today, even if he wanted to talk more. He didn't need any more problems brought up or identified. He needed to get home and see his daughter.
"I think we should stop there for today. Go and see Hermione, alright. I'll see you next week, same time, the same place?" She asked with optimism. He mulled it over before quickly realising that he had no other logical answer than to agree.
As Hermione sat, restless in her Grandpa's car, she thought only of Harry. How Harry had saved her, how he had taken her on that date, how she couldn't see him. He had to endure all of the terrible things in his life for a meagre chance at happiness.
"It isn't fair, Grandpa." She whimpered, trying not to break down again. Over the last two days, it had worse not seeing Harry than seeing him beaten, bruised and broken. Just a glimpse of him, a word of comfort, of assurance, was all she needed. "Why did this happen to him? It isn't fair at all!" Hermione spat out, thinking of the piece of human filth that had put them both in the hospital. She leaned back in the seat and huffed, letting her anger dissipate until it was just sadness. Her Grandpa sighed with a deep exhale through his nose; it was tough to see his only grandchild like this, as normally she was so passionate and full of energy. Now she was defeated, she had found the one thing that could beat her, the unfairness and harsh reality of life.
"No one should have to go through that, Hermione. But, I know that you will both come back from this, better and more connected than before." She was about to protest and scowl, but she thought it rude and that it would be prudent to hear him out properly. "It'll seem hard, maybe even impossible at times, and yes, this won't be the last terrible thing to happen, because, unfortunately, wishes, and magic… they aren't real, and they can't fix anything for us. All I know is that, after Britain went to war, twice, we bounced back, and now, you're experiencing something far more personal, but no more tragic than what happened then…" Hermione scoffed and winced at the same time. "Point is, we always come back stronger and more in love, than ever. Trust me on this." They pulled into the driveway, seeing the light of the sun bounce off the windows of the house.
"Funny, isn't it? The sun shines brighter than ever, and I'm on my summer holiday, and the only person besides my family that I can spend it with is in the hospital with no chance of getting out in three weeks. I think the universe might have a slight grudge against me for something. Or maybe it just hasn't kicked all of us around enough yet." Hermione commented cynically to no one in particular. She grabbed the door with her non-cast hand that her grandpa was holding open and took her bag of things, including the necklace that she had worn on her date four days ago. It sat just in view, half underneath a cardigan and some underwear which her grandma had packed for her stay in the hospital, taunting her with the view of the red gem set into it which reminded her of the horrible beating. Donald gazed at her with sorrow but tried to cheer her up a bit anyway.
"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, Hermione, when you only remember, to turn on the light." She still wasn't happy, but a brief smile flitted across her face, though it was gone as soon as it appeared.
For those who have stuck with this despite my spotty schedule that my college life hates with a burning passion, I thank you, sincerely. From the bottom of my stressed-out heart, thank you!