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. Finally, please read my profile before you review the story, as it may answer some questions that you could have, including my upload schedule.
He groaned in agony. It was utterly painful, in the worst possible way. Harry buried his head in his hands and shook. Ron looked at him with hurt etched across his face, but then he too burst out laughing. Harry clutched his side in pain, though and Ron winced.
"I'm sorry, I forgot how much it hurts you to laugh." Harry's friend looked down and shame before he was greeted with the tap on the shoulder that meant he had to leave for the day.
"Ron, listen… you don't need to apologise. It was funny, and it was you, so don't bloody stop making people, even me laugh. And if I die of laughter from one of your terrible puns, it's a glorious way to go out, isn't it?" They shared a smile and a gentle hug before Ron left, leaving Harry to his book again. It had been a week since Hermione had been let out of the hospital for her minor injuries after her concussion was sorted and every day since then, she or Ron had been visiting, sometimes both of them together, and then it was just like the old times, the trio back in high school that didn't seem to fall apart. He looked back on those memories in fondness, before he would realise that changing was the only logical step forward. Ron was far too different from them for them all to be doing the same thing. Whilst he would specialise in sporting and mechanical knowledge, Harry and Hermione had opted for more intense and less physical courses, such as Law, History and English.
Harry watched him leave and turned to his book, eager to throw himself back into this interesting narrative. The children of gods that could take on monsters and titans, and the gods themselves. He scoffed and rolled his eyes with a sigh. 'Must be nice. Have everything you need to protect you, at the tips of your fingers.' Since the incident, he had received multiple calls from his friends and old classmates expressing their concerns and well-wishes, but next to none of them had been the sort of messages that he wanted to hear. He would rather them be themselves and talk to him as normal, instead of treating him like a fragile piece of china. When Hermione, Ron and their families would visit, they were always supportive and kind, even though Mrs Weasley was a bit too emotional and protective to the point where Harry was sure she was going to have a heart attack from ranting about Mitchell Johnson. And Hermione. Sweet Hermione.
Where the rest of them tried to ignore the injuries that were sprawled out over Harry's torso, Hermione just sat in the chair closest to his bed and clutched his hand, not leaving his side unless he needed to move or adjust his position. She doted on him, especially when they were alone, though she was afraid of leaving him; as if a man with cracked ribs and a bruised windpipe was going anywhere without support. Despite Hermione's constant attention and sympathetic looks, he was still glad to have her there more than anyone else. She was never quite as focused on anything like she was with him, apart from maybe her A-Levels that they'd just taken. And Harry still found that trait incredibly endearing and charming: the fact that she would never put anything above knowledge, not emotions, distractions and unfortunately stress.
Weeks passed and August slowly crept up on the couple. Since Harry's birthday and that fateful evening at the Blue Rook, things had only gotten more nerve-wracking for Hermione. The students would all be receiving their grades and the qualification results in August, just in time for University in September. And as his daughter would keep reminding him, David Granger should have been more nervous. Hermione was biting her nails and tapping her foot constantly over the week leading up to the results being posted, even when she was with Harry in the hospital, she would let her eyes flit around and her heart kept beating at ludicrous speeds. Once, Harry had to squeeze her hand like a vice just because she was being so nervous and erratic. She would keep herself speaking rapidly to stop thinking about the crucial results whether she was with someone or not. It made her seem, frankly… slightly unhinged, especially when people like her Grandmother and Grandfather would walk in to see her babbling on to some invisible force as if she was begging all types of gods to save her from a terrible fate.
Finally, the time came for one of the best days of her life: the day that Harry was allowed out of the hospital. He was able to avoid the cost of most of the stay in the hospital, owing to the fact that the NHS offered mostly free health services. She was eager to pick him up herself, or at least go with the person who was able to drive the car. But the sight of him as soon as they pulled into the car park was almost heart-breaking and would have been if the adrenaline of Harry coming home and being free from the hospital bed wasn't carrying her through it. She stood up and leaned against the car, holding an umbrella to stave off the rain for him and rushed over to the nurse… who was wheeling him out in a chair.
Hermione's face dropped and she made an audible gasping sound. The shock of seeing him in the chair was understandably uncomfortable, more so after Hermione let the thought that this was her fault creep its way back into her head. She shook it away momentarily and helped him out of the chair to get into the car whilst the nurse addressed her father, who was driving them around today.
"He'll need to be using that chair or crutches at the very least for the next two months or so whilst his ribs heal. Mr Potter must also be sleeping and resting sitting up so that the crack in the ribs doesn't rupture or ruin the remainder of the healing process. And to reiterate the conversation I had with him, he will need to have someone be near or with him nearly every waking moment for the rest of the time he is healing. I trust there will be someone to help him? If not, we can send someone to tend to his needs for most hours of the day. And only when he has had two months of bed-rest will he come back here and have an x-ray to see if his ribs are corrected. Have a pleasant day, Mr Granger, Mr Potter, Miss Granger." The nurse walked back inside with her clipboard that presumably had Harry's information on it. Hermione then let go of Harry and folded up the wheelchair that he may have to use, though she knew he would be brave and stupid about it, not using it as much as possible. David ushered her back in before she caught a cold in the pouring rain and following the order, she trudged around to the left-hand side back door, sitting next to Harry and relishing in the warmth of the car.
For the entire journey back, Hermione sat in the middle and refused to let her head leave the crook of Harry's neck. And as she was drifting in and out of consciousness upon his shoulder, she heard Harry whispering into her ear.
"Thank you for being with me, Hermione. I love you." She fell into a slumber in the back seat, huddled up to her boyfriend and revelled in those words, the three most powerful words in existence.
Sorry for such a short chapter, but I have been a bit starved of inspiration and creativity recently. And added to that, I have exams coming up in just under a month, so I need to focus more on them. Finally, again, this will probably be the last upload for anything besides Harry Potter and the Triwizard Tournament (as I have some of that pre-written) for a while.