Chapter Two: The Medical Workup

"So," he huffed, jogging on the treadmill, "How long—?"

"Until you collapse." Cooper said causally, "we need to figure out your breaking point. You've been running four hours straight at this point so you should be going down soon."

Within the next five minutes Harry had indeed gone down, being flung from the still running treadmill in a way worthy of America's Funniest Home Videos and had hit the wall with a dull thud. Gwen, having been on hand to stop things if they got too extreme for her tastes, helped him up as he was watching snowy white owls circle his head. Cooper had written up his breaking point. "Are you guys almost done?" the redhead asked irately.

"Yeah," Cooper replied with glee as he pulled out the vaccination gun.

"Oh, oh I'm fine guys." Harry spoke nervously, "I'm updated and all that good stuff…"

"For some reason I doubt that," Cooper said, grinning, "Hold 'im fast Gwen!"

"Seriously guys—!" he was bent over the table, being pants'd as he was, "Please, not the butt, not my bu—SON OF A BLUDGER!"

"Watch your language."

"Kevin cusses like a bloody sailor and you're telling me to watch my language?!" Harry glared murderously as he rubbed his stinging cheek.

"Kevin's nineteen and that's one of his better habits, trust me."

"And he boffs you whenever he gets the chance."

"That too."

Cooper currently was humming as loudly as possible.

"C'mon," Gwen spoke, "we can grab some MacDonald's."

Her cell-phone suddenly rang and she opened it, greeting whoever was contacting her. And then she fell silent, frowning, "I see…yes we'll bring him quickly…I understand, please warn the staff…thank you…" she hung up.

"Hermione collapsed," she told Harry, "anemia. She'll be fine but she wants you there—"

"Let's go!" he ran out like the devil was on his heels. Gwen followed at a calmer pace. They rounded up the team, hopped aboard Ship and headed for England.

The hospital was in London, bright and gleaming, shiny and new; it was a Muggle Hospital. The charge sister was very reluctant to let them through until Mr. Granger came out to lead them to Hermione's room.
She was hooked up to an IV drip but was sitting up and reading a book. She was fine.

"What are you guys doing here?" she asked bemusedly.

"You asked for Harry, dear," Mrs. Granger explained.

"I did? When?"

"When we first arrived."

"I don't remember…hmmm, oh well. I'm glad to see you guys."

"You should be resting," Harry told her.

"You're one to talk, you've had your skull cracked and still walk around without going to Pomfrey!"

"That's magic!" he whispered furiously, "you're in a muggle hospital doing things the muggle way!"

"I'm not dying."

"Lay down."

"No."

They glared at each other.

"Please Mione," Harry whispered, "you collapsed and I don't want to see it happen again…"

"I'm fine Harry," she softened, "I'll back up, saving your butt, in no time. I promise…" her voice lowered, "I know a potion, Pomfrey probably has it on hand, that helps with the iron deficiency. I'd only have to take it twice a month, once right before my period actually starts, and once right after it ends."

"And what if your cycle screws up?" Harry asked; her parents gasped and so he turned to them, "Not what that sounded like. It's just that sometimes she's under so much stress, because she's a perfectionist, that it stops coming for a couple months."

Mrs. Granger smiled in relief, knowingly, "It runs in the family."

"Then I'll take it at the times I should have, I know my body Harry."