Chapter 3: An Encounter to Remember

Hermione felt as though she was being held down by the crushing weight of a hundred blankets. She tried to move her arms, but they were so heavy that she eventually gave up. She cracked open one eye and winced at the brightness of her surroundings. Slowly, she opened her eyes, allowing them to adjust to the light. Even though she was certain that she was going to have a lingering headache, the light finally became manageable and she realized that the whiteness all around her was not, in fact, snow.

Something moved out of the corner of her eye and she turned her head sharply, regretting it immediately. Her body bloomed with pain from her head down to her toes, and she let out an involuntary groan between gritted teeth.

"Sorry miss. Didn't mean to scare you," said a soft voice from the foot of her bed. Hermione blinked through the involuntary tears in her eyes as the pain began to lessen slightly and tried to get a good look at the figure at the foot of her bed. The girl was small- maybe nine years old at the most, but there was something strange about her face. Her long, straw-colored hair fell over one eye and she stared at Hermione with a strange intensity. "The professor brought you. It's my job to help. I'm your maid! Look how pretty my dress is!"

She spun around slowly in an old-style black and white maid outfit and Hermione wondered who even made people wear attire like that anymore. Her second thought was that this supposed "professor" must be some sort of pervert, especially if he had clothing like that and made a child wear it, though it wasn't revealing in any way, and the skirt nearly touched the floor.

Still, Hermione shuddered involuntarily and let out another moan of pain despite herself.

"I'm gonna help with bringing you food and changing your bandages! He'll be in to see you later this evening when he's finished in his laboratory." The girl smiled and picked up a tray of food. "Your arms are still healing, so I have to feed you, but I don't mind! It'll be fun!"

Hermione almost felt like smiling at how happy the girl was to help, but she was also still full of questions. Who was the man who'd saved her from her fall? How bad had her injuries been, anyway? And exactly where was she?

When she opened her mouth to ask these questions, a hoarse, nearly inhuman sound escaped her lips.

"You...your body was all broken when he brought you," the girl said, her eyes suddenly shy. "He fixed you with medicine, but you're not all better yet. Now you need to eat to get your strength back. Come on, open up and say ah!"

Hermione opened her mouth but didn't say anything. She hated feeling like she was being babied, especially from someone young enough to be her daughter. Her heart twinged at that thought before she could stop herself from thinking it, and she nearly choked on the spoonful of soup that was poured into her mouth.

It wasn't the best soup she'd ever eaten, but it was better by far than anything she'd had at the cafe around the block from her flat, and Hermione let her mind wander as the girl fed her. There wasn't much else to eat other than the soup, but Hermione found she wasn't very hungry anyway. The girl lifted a straw to Hermione's parched lips, and she sucked down some ice water to cool her down when she was finished with the soup.

The girl smiled at her and tucked in her covers a bit before taking the tray in her hands and turning to leave. "Oh!" she said, suddenly, turning and nearly knocking over the empty cup on the trai, "I forgot to tell you! My name is Mimi!"

Hermione grunted back to show that she'd heard the girl.

"Oh! And, just so you know. The professor...he's a bit scary looking, but he's actually nice." Mimi looked at the floor and blushed. "He...he saved me too."

With that, she stepped through the door and it swung shut behind her, leaving Hermione to think about all that Mimi had said.

She hoped this "professor" would visit her soon. Preferably with more answers and some potent healing potions.

Hermione slept.

"Ah. You're awake." A soft, deep voice spoke to her from the shadows as Hermione opened her eyes. The flickering candlelight and muted light from the windows made it hard to make out his face, but his voice sounded somehow familiar, though she knew there was no way she'd know anyone up in such a remote area. "We don't have much time."

She made a strangled noise and he stepped closer. She felt a flash of recognition for a moment before she shook her head. No. That couldn't be right. He's dead.

The man who stood before her was tall and though his face was still angular and thin, he had a slight paunch to his belly. It may have been the brown suit he wore with a rather hideous purple velvet vest, but in any case, the ill-fitting clothing only accentuated his flaws. His hair was pulled back from his face in a ponytail, and she could see small silver hairs on both temples, but other than that, his hair was a dark black that nearly blended with the shadows of the room. He wore small, circular glasses that perched on his hooked nose in a manner that suggested he mostly used them for reading, not distance. His skin, however, was the sort of pale color one gets from staying inside far too much, and she could tell at once that he wasn't what she would consider the athletic type.

Hermione had never been much for athletics when she was younger (especially those done astride a broom), but as a professional monster hunter, she'd had to bulk up her strength considerably. She'd never have the physique of a bodybuilder, but her muscles were well-defined under the soft curve of flab she'd developed from far too many take away dinners. It was, after all, easy to be disinterested in cooking after coming home with monster gore on one's robes.

"You suffered a very bad fall," he said, his voice husky and somewhat odd, as though he had a cold. "I was nearby, though, and found you in time. Mimi and Charlotte were able to use the potions we had on hand, but it was a rough night. You only just made it through."

Hermione nodded and did her best to move her sore neck to show her throat, grunting loudly to get his attention.

"Yes," he said, unstoppering a bottle, "Your larynx was damaged when it was impaled on a rock. The potions mostly stopped the bleeding and did some superficial healing so you wouldn't die, but we still have a ways to go in your treatment before everything can be healed."

Hermione looked skeptically into his dark eyes as he readied the dose.

"Hmph," he snorted, "If we were going to kill you, we would have simply left you there to die. Need I remind you that we weren't sure you'd make it more than once?"

For a moment, she thought she saw a flash of sharp teeth that were far too long to be human, but then his mouth was closed in a thin line and he was pouring the dosage down her throat, massaging it with his surprisingly warm fingers in order to get her to swallow without choking.

"I know that you probably don't appreciate being touched by a stranger, but I assure you that I am only doing what is necessary. I shall be back tomorrow morning to check on your progress, for there are...things that I must attend to tonight."

Hermione licked her parched lips. She could already feel a strange tingling sensation in her throat as the potion began repairing the lingering damage. When she finally choked out her first intelligible words, he had already disappeared.

Even with the magical properties of potions, healing so rapidly was incredibly draining.

Hermione slept.

"You'll have to wake her up. I don't have much time." The voice was urgent and Hermione found herself shaken awake.

"Hnghhhwhat?" The sound that escaped her lips wasn't pretty, but it was better than the day before. Hermione moved her tongue around in her mouth and marveled at the fact that her broken and missing teeth had largely repaired themselves while she was sleeping. Her nose, too, was easier to breathe out of, and she supposed that her face was quite a lot less smashed-looking.

"Good morning. I promise this will be brief." The man from the evening before took a number of vitals and measured another dosage of potion before pulling out his wand and casting some diagnostic charms that felt rather hurried and uncomfortable as they probed Hermione's body. "Very good. You're coming along nicely, but you still have a ways to go. Mimi will take things from here."

WIth that, he turned and disappeared out of the door without a word, but not before he stumbled slightly against the door frame and Hermione thought she saw something long pressing against the back of his trousers.

No...that couldn't be...Hermione flushed despite herself.

"Don't worry about him," Mimi said cheerfully, as Hermione glared at the door. "He's always like that, but he's actually quite nice."

"His bedside manner leaves much to be desired," Hermione rasped, momentarily delighted that she could actually say anything at all. "I do have to hand it to him, though. His potions are quite robust."

"Well, your voice sounds a lot better, miss!" Mimi said excitedly. "Let's see how your arms are doing!"

"Please, call me Hermione. Miss sounds...wrong," Hermione replied, her voice sounding like sandpaper.

"Ok, um...Miss Hermione," Mimi replied after a moment.

Hermione resisted the urge to let out a sigh. Well, at least it was something.

She took Hermione's arm and unwrapped it, watching carefully as Hermione bent her elbow and tested the arm, which looked fine other than a fading scar on her wrist. Mimi handed her a small cup of tea and Hermione was able to pick it up without incident, though her bicep cramped a bit when she brought the cup to her lips. The tea was warm and didn't burn her throat going down, which was a relief. Meanwhile, Mimi unwrapped Hermione's other arm as well.

"So...is he...er...your father, then?" Hermione asked awkwardly, not sure what she should say next as the silence dragged on.

"Oh...well...kind of, I suppose. He saved me. Charlotte too," Mimi said simply, but she didn't elaborate and Hermione thought it best not to pry.

"I don't wish to scare you, but I was wondering if you know about a large creature that seems to be prowling the woods," Hermione tried, after a long moment.

"I...I don't really...sorry, I don't go outside very often, so I can't really say," the girl said, looking away, her expression conflicted.

Hermione noticed, but tried to pretend that she hadn't seen it. "Ah, well, that's good to hear."

"Your voice is sounding much better. Do you think you can eat a bit of breakfast?"

Hermione was able to eat some of the scrambled eggs, but nearly choked on the overly-dry muffin.

"Charlotte likes baking. She says it's like making potions, but between you and me, her potions skills are way better," Mimi confided.

Hermione agreed with Mimi's assessment as she soothed her throat with a glass of orange juice.

"So...then, I don't mean to sound rude, but what day is it? I remember it was Christmas day when I fell," Hermione said, when she was done.

"It's the twenty-ninth of December," Mimi said, "I know 'cuz it's on my calendar."

Hermione had to stop herself from swearing in front of the girl. "I appreciate all that you all have done for me, but I have...work to do," she said carefully. She wasn't sure exactly how far she was from where she'd been searching and she knew that if she didn't check back with her client that he would assume she had failed. Suddenly, her eyes went wide as she realized something even more important. "My wand! Oh...Mimi, did he...er...did he find my things when he rescued me?"

Mimi frowned for a moment as she thought. "I don't know," she answered, "but I'll ask him and let you know."

That attended to, Hermione sank back into the bed until she realized she had a different sort of urgent problem. "Um...this is kind of embarrassing," Hermione said, "but I need to...er...use the loo."

"Oh!" Mimi exclaimed, "Let me help you!"

Hermione swung her legs out and noticed that they, too looked miraculously unmangled. From how she'd felt the night before, she was rather amazed at the difference. They twinged as she put weight on them, but with Mimi's help, they managed.

"You're pretty strong for a little kid," Hermione commented, when she was back in the bed.

"Well...I do a lot of chores," Mimi said, flexing her muscles, "and besides, you're almost all better so you didn't really need all that much help anyway."

Eventually, Mimi left, but not before showing Hermione the bookcase that stood at the far wall. For lack of anything better to do, Hermione stood and hobbled over, catching herself when she tripped by grabbing onto the back of a chair. The professor was right. She was still healing. If she tried to go out into the snow without her wand, she'd probably die. Though she hated to rely on anyone, Hermione had to admit that it was incredibly kind of them to have taken her in. It was only as she was perusing the books that she realized she hadn't asked for the name of her mysterious benefactor.

As she was looking through a book on Victorian-era charms that she'd never heard of before, Hermione heard a strange sound from the other side of the door. At first she thought she could hear the sound of heavy footfalls….no...they were different than the sound of shoes. There was a snaggy pull to each step, which suggested claws. As it got closer, there was a strange heavy chuffing sound, as though something massive was sprinting down the hall in the direction of her room. Her first thought was werewolf, though Hermione knew that whatever it was must be at least twice the size of any known breed of dog, and the sun had not set yet. She'd set down her book and was just about to slide out of her bed when the noises stopped in front of her door. She could see something moving in the slight crack underneath it, yet it had become oddly silent, other than a strange growling purr- a sound she'd never heard before.

Suddenly, the the creature slammed against her door and Hermione gasped, despite herself. She looked around for something that could be used as a defensive weapon, but other than a few books that looked heavy enough to lob, Hermione couldn't find anything truly lethal. She cursed her lack of a wand and swore she'd demand it from the strange man the next time he came to her room.

If she survived.

To her relief, the door was solidly built, and she could see the light green sparks of a ward flying into the air as the creature on the other side slammed into the door. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the creature stopped, sniffed loudly and then took off running down the hall.

Hermione slumped down against the pillow and waited. After about half an hour of silence, she stood and hobbled to the door, twisting the handle gently.

It would not move.

She tried harder, jiggling it back and forth in frustration. Still nothing.

"Damned thing! Open! I thought I wasn't a prisoner!" she swore at it. Still, the door refused to budge. Eventually, Hermione stomped back to her bed in a huff. She regretted this immediately as the extra pressure pulled a muscle in her right leg and sent pain all the way up her spine.

Hermione lay in bed grasping her leg with a grimace on her face. Her mind whirled with suspicious thoughts that she'd refused to entertain before.

She was trapped, wandless and still mildly injured, in a building with a monster. She'd technically been in worse situations than this, it was true, but she had a feeling that the intentions of the creature on the other side of that door were far worse than a simple deadly fall.