AN disclaimer: i do not own harry potter etc etc
cause i was away so long i decided a longer chapter might be better then a short one... so yea i had lots of fun! good to be back though writing!
anyway....
Hermione felt her heart pang at the declaration. I'm going back. She sat motionless in the car, not daring to move, out of fear that the enormity of the situation would override her common sense.
A blast of cool air washed over her face and her body leapt into action, wand drawn, eyes alight. Lizzie stood before her, frowning slightly, Hermione's wand still pressing firmly into her throat. Hermione slowly lowered her hand and rested her head on the steering wheel with a soft thud.
"Hermione… what's wrong?" Hermione shook her head and the younger woman turned to Emerald whom was seated in the back seat. She saw Lizzie smile quickly then open the back door, Max bounding up towards the house, Emerald, rather reluctantly, in tow.
"What happened?" she inquired again, a slight edge to her smooth voice. Hermione looked up into large blue orbs of concern and felt her resolve break. She stood from the car and looked to the ground, then her eyes travelled up to the single story house before her with its large blue shutters. The front door was ajar and Emerald could just be seen looking out curiously.
The door slamming behind her snapped her out of her thoughts and a concerned Lizzie stood before her, her long brown hair flowing in the breeze that was chilling Hermione to her already frozen heart.
"Hermione… what's wrong?"
She wasn't going to give up and in truth Hermione didn't want her too, there was no point, Hermione needed to tell her, sooner rather than later.
"Emerald and I are moving back to England." There, out in the open, let's wait for the massive avalanche of- silence? Lizzie's eyes had glazed over, her mouth slightly open, she was either in deep thought or in shock, Hermione deduced that it was both.
"I'm coming with you." she whispered and Hermione growled.
"Elizabeth.. no." she said crossly and Lizzie groaned in annoyance.
"Do-not-call-me-that-name!" she snapped and Hermione sighed heavily.
"It's worse." Hermione said, deciding to drop the subject. Lizzie shuffled her feet and Hermione's attention was caught for a moment before she met her cousin's gaze and ran her fingers through her blonde hair. "She wants to- she wants to meet him."
Lizzie's eyes widened at this, she had never met the famous Harry Potter, she had only heard the media's representation and Hermione's, the two seemed to differ greatly. The media, made Harry seem strong and noble, Hermione, although stating that these aspects were true also believed that they were his greatest weaknesses and the reason Hermione left.
"Harry? Are you serious?" Hermione nodded quickly, looking at her daughter whom still stood, watching, waiting. Emerald held herself in a very shy manner, much like her father had when he first started school.
"Sometimes, when I look at her, I see him standing in the doorway, his eyes gazing up at me with such love… she belongs to him… she belongs in England… she's a Potter." Hermione whispered and Lizzie let out a hollow laugh.
"She stopped being a Potter the moment he left you for…" Lizzie trailed off mumbling a few obscenities under her breath. "Anyway… Emerald is a Granger, through and through. She is yours Hermione… not his." They began to make their way towards the house, Emerald had quickly ran into the lounge room, to try and hide the fact she had been trying to listen.
"You're right, he has a family, probably three children by now… what would he want with me… and my daughter." Lizzie shot Hermione a warning look as they entered the house they shared and found Emerald playing happily on the floor.
"I am coming with you Hermione, whether you like it or not, I am not letting this beautiful girl move half way around the world without me." Lizzie shot and Hermione smiled.
"It's not halfway around the world Liz."
***
Hermione entered the familiar hospital biting her bottom lip. She drew her healer robes tighter around her body and walked through the main reception area, intent on reaching the golden elevators as soon as she could. She was about two steps from the hall leading away from the main entrance when a woman let out a blood curdling scream.
Hermione turned and her eyes widened in shock when a man begun convulsing on the floor, his body thrashing angrily about as she ran to his side, pushing the growing crowd out of the way. The adrenaline rush had kicked in and Hermione found her senses immediately heightened as she placed her fingertips to his neck, feeling desperately for a pulse, which she found, though barely.
She felt the temperature of his skin and frowned heavily, she trailed light, feather like fingers over his neck, feeling immediately the warmness of blood. The blood had a green tinge to it, snake, she thought suddenly and remembered a certain serpent from a book she had once read many years ago at school.
Hermione attempted to point the tip of her wand to his wound but the man continued to thrash as the poison seeped into his blood, she couldn't immobilise him with magic, the venom would only spread faster. She placed a hand on his shoulder and forced it to the cold ground, she let out a desperate squeak as she tried again to save him.
Two strong hands pushed the man down to the floor and Hermione immediately placed the tip of her wand to his neck, removing the poison immediately with a series of complex wand movements.
The man was immediately escorted away and Hermione looked up into the stormy depths she knew so well, five years ago.
Draco Malfoy smiled warmly and helped Hermione to her feet. "My Hermione, good to see you have joined the club." He said and pointed to his hair then hers. Hermione smiled smally and threw her arms around his neck tightly.
"Hello Draco… it has been a long time…" Hermione trailed off awkwardly and Draco smiled, sleeking his hair back. Hermione grinned; he must be seeing Luna soon.
"Why are you in St. Mungos?" Hermione suddenly asked and Draco blushed, a large smile growing on his face.
"Well Luna's pregnant, again… and well… she's due soon." Draco smiled when Hermione squealed in delight. "Hermione, come to dinner, this Thursday night, please, bring friends, anyone, I really want to catch up… but I have to go."
"Of course… same house?"
"A Malfoy never lets go of a good investment." Draco stated in his old drawl, a smile on his face. Hermione snorted and waved, on her way to the lifts.
***
Hermione arrived at the intensive care recovery ward two minutes early. Elizabeth smiled at her and pointed to her badge which read 'general maladies and injuries.' Hermione smiled encouragingly, it was Lizzie's second job out of school.
Hermione waved and walked into the head healer's office. The woman looked up from her newspaper quickly. Hermione sat on the seat before the desk that the older woman had indicated with a quick flick of her bony wrist.
Claire Evans had a lined face; every light that graced her features cast large shadows down her pale skin, causing her to look more gaunt than ever. She had a shock of white hair with one diagonal streak of black in it. She had eyes that were both warm and inviting, yet cold and calculating, Hermione figured she had experienced a lot in her life.
Claire stood and a small smile graced her lips. "Miss Granger, it is a pleasure to have you in our ward, I have heard great things from America." She complimented and Hermione blushed. "Now… if you don't mind I will get you straight into it… I like to take things head on, dive in without testing the depth, if you catch my meaning." The old woman seemed kind, but reminded Hermione of Minerva McGonagall, kind yet strict.
Hermione nodded and Claire passed her a map of the hospital, a set of keys and an ID badge, with her name and department on the front. Claire then stood and Hermione instantly followed. She was lead down a long white walled passage to a black door.
"Miss Granger, I must warn you now, over the years I have seen many horrible things in this ward and I know the consequences of becoming attached to a patient and the pain of losing them. … I do not want you to go through my pain." At this Claire passed Hermione a large file and left without another word.
Hermione walked through the door and closed it softly behind her. The walls were a rich purple in colour, about eight rooms were evenly spaced along it. Hermione quickly opened her file and saw her first patient.
'Clara Weasley,
Age: six.
Leg wound from Norwegian ridgeback.
Poisoning.'
Hermione sighed, Charlies. She entered the room and found a very beautiful young girl sitting in her bed reading a large picture book. She looked up when she noticed Hermione's presence and Hermione approached, quickly skimming through the details of her condition.
"Hello Clara, my name is Hermione Granger and I will be taking care of you for a while." Hermione said kindly and Clara's eyes widened in realisation.
"Hermione Granger, my family speaks of you alot." She stated and Hermione worried her lower lip. Clara had bright blue eyes and long dark red hair. Hermione remembered meeting Clara once as an infant, first daughter of Charlie and Hannah Weasley. Hannah Abbot had become a beautiful woman, wife and mother.
"How are you feeling? You mentioned the other day that your headache has worsened?" Hermione inquired and Clara sighed.
"Why ask? You know I'm dying." Clara said this in such a manner that Hermione felt her heart clench, she sounded so resigned. Hermione sat beside Clara on the bed and took the young girls hands in hers.
"I will not let that happen." Hermione stated and the girl smiled, her face up close was pale, her cheeks she could tell were usually rosy.
"My head does not hurt so much now. But my leg is really sore still." Hermione looked back to her papers and frowned slightly. "What is it?" Hermione looked up surprised and decided to answer.
"Oh.. it's just I know of a treatment they have not tried." Hermione whispered and Clara perked up at the thought.
***
Jonathon Andrews was quite the handsome man before he was attacked. He was suffering from the side effects of the satania curse, an old curse that slowly killed the victim by dissolving their organs. He didn't look up when she entered and continued to stare at the ceiling, his eyes were large, sad, brown depths.
Hermione looked down at her patient sadly. He and Clara were her only charges and Hermione hoped she could save both of them.
"Mr. Andrews?" he didn't answer at first and when Hermione opened her mouth to say something he spoke quietly.
"Jonathon."
"Jonathon… I am Hermione Granger-"
"I know who you are, another useless healer telling me they can cure me when they can't and looking at me with spiteful eyes." He refused to look at her and this frustrated Hermione, she didn't know why.
"I want to help."
"I don't want your sympathy. Why don't you go back to America… I can tell you were there for an extended time, let me guess boyfriend dumped you for the hot girl and you ran away?" he spat cruelly and Hermione felt her heart plummet and found it hard to breathe. When she didn't answer he turned to look at her and saw tears in her large honey eyes.
"You pretty much hit the nail on the head there Mr. Andrews." Hermione cursed her voice for being so squeaky.
Jonathon's eyes widened when he took in the sight of her, she was absolutely breathtaking, she had a kindness about her he was sure came naturally and could not be taught. Her hair he could tell even though it was up in a high pony tail, was long, probably reaching halfway down her back. He suspected blonde was not her natural hair colour, but it suited her all the same. Her large honey eyes looked at him with such courage and kindness that Jonathon couldn't help but fall in love with her.
"I'm sorry… im a bit of an arse these days… I wasn't always like this… forgive me please… Hermione." Hermione heard the difficulty he seemed to be having, as if he hadn't spoken in a non negative way in a very long time. Now Hermione looked at him, she could tell he had come from a strict home, the way his back straightened when a woman entered the room, as if it was an innate behaviour to stand.
"That's okay Jonathon."
"Why don't you tell me about it? I don't get any visitors… who I am I going to tell?" he joked and Hermione smiled smally and positioned herself comfortably in the chair beside his bed. His gaze was at the ajar door and Hermione turned and saw Clara smiling warmly at Jonathon.
"Clara. You shouldn't be out of bed." Hermione stated as the girl approached climbing onto Jonathon's bed and sitting beside him, her small head resting on his shoulder.
"You were going to tell a story?" she asked hopefully and Hermione sighed.
"Don't worry Hermione; we are good friends, Clara and I." Hermione frowned slightly and as if he read her thoughts he shook his head a glare on his face, before it turned bemused as Clara looked up at him confused.
"Well… where should I start?"
"How about…" he trailed off for a moment as if in deep thought. "The first time you met him." Hermione smiled suddenly at the memory. She nodded slowly and ran her fingers through her hair.
"I have never been the prettiest girl in England, I had two large front teeth and extremely bushy brown hair that was impossible to maintain in my youth." Hermione smiled slightly her perfect teeth gleaming. "I was always an odd child, I had a thirst for knowledge that many found unnerving, strange even. I was an absolute know-it-all, it was funny really, I didn't have many friends because I had… how shall I say, a knack for making people feel dumb… I never meant to of course, I just never grasped the concept of being modest and know when to shut up as a child." Hermione suddenly laughed. "I see I still don't know when to shut up."
Her eyes were bright as she begun the tale of her first train ride to Hogwarts, where she met the famous boy who lived. Jonathon watched and listened intently.
"…and when he came back to us, he had stopped Voldemort from getting to the philosophers stone." Hermione suddenly looked at her watch and gasped in shock. "I have to get down to the potions lab… I have some new treatments I wish to start." she suddenly stood and smiled at the sleeping Clara, it was about four in the afternoon. Hermione was slightly worried about Clara's condition; she had been tired a lot lately.
Jonathon smiled smally when Hermione lifted the small girl effortlessly into her arms and carried her to her room, not wanting to levitate her.
When Hermione had returned she saw Jonathon staring at the ceiling with a small smile playing on his lips. "Will you keep telling me this story tomorrow?" he asked curiously and Hermione smiled.
"Of course." Hermione said and he nodded, closing his eyes slowly. "Goodnight Jonathon." Hermione whispered, her shift was almost over, she was supposed to be home in an hour and a half.
"Goodnight Hermione."
***
Harry looked down at the file before him, it was a case he had solved a few weeks ago, a wizard by the name of Jonathon Andrews was attacked with the satania curse, an old curse that had not been performed since the early twelfth century. The file had been sent over two days earlier than he had requested and Harry was glad. The man responsible was none other than Marcus flint, the curse, obviously something that had been passed on over the generations.
He opened the leather bound file and sighed when he saw the report on Andrews deteriorating condition; the hand writing was smooth and silky, slightly cramped in parts, as if that style was an old habit the writer had tried to get rid of.
He flicked through the file and groaned when he saw the court date. In a month he would be before the Wizengamot, giving evidence against Flint. Harry hated trials, especially ones that would be as publicised as this one; he was, no matter the crime, the topic of every headline.
He stood and placed the file down, being an auror was losing its charm, the darkness in his heart did not lessen and the constant stories of death and pain that surrounded him were slowly driving him insane.
He suddenly wished he was back at Hogwarts, with Ron making his ridiculous excuses for not doing his homework and Hermione, just being Hermione. He realised that that was impossible.
Ron is dead and Hermione left you, you are alone.
He reached forward and picked up the photo of a deranged looking Marcus Flint. The years had not been kind. Black hair hung dirtily around his scarred and disfigured face, his eyes were now small and beady, his teeth stained with alcohol and tobacco.
He dropped the photograph and reached for the nearest piece of blank parchment.
He had nothing left but work and soon he would have nothing at all.
And with his hands shaking he wrote a single name.
Minerva.
***
review? maybe?