A/N: Thanks to all of you for continuing to follow this story. As always, please keep the feedback coming!

Big ups to adenei for all of your help in the editing process!

Last time we left off with Ron in the dark about Hermione's whereabouts. Let's check in with her now…


Chapter 8: "You'll continue to thrive until, someday, you end up taking my job."

My back is killing me.

The thought went through Hermione's mind over and over again throughout the night as the unfamiliar mattress squeaked underneath her. The room was sterile and stank of stale food and coffee. To her right, the sunlight poured through a large window, casting long shadows onto the floor. As she tried to turn onto her side and reach for the cup of water on the bedside table, she grimaced.

Despite the early hour, the halls of the children's hospital were already bustling with activity. The building towered above the rest of the skyline, and Hermione had a penthouse suite all to herself. But it was lonely in Room 934, even the beautiful view across the entire city making no difference. Her body was sore and she was exhausted, having barely slept all night. Even when she'd managed to find a comfortable position, she was never asleep for more than an hour before someone came in to check on her, record her vital signs, or draw her blood.

Trying to push herself up in bed, she cried out as a twinge of agonizing pain shot down her arm. There was an awful taste in her mouth since she hadn't been able to brush her teeth the night before. Every time she swallowed, her throat burned with pain, a side effect of the breathing tube they'd placed during her procedure. Her legs were hopelessly tangled in a mess of sheets and blankets from which she had virtually no way of freeing herself. God help her if she had to pee.

With a great sigh, she reached for her phone and scrolled through the messages from her roommate wishing her well and her parents asking about any updates. They had all been there the previous day after Hermione had come out of the operating room, but she had sent them all home to get a proper night's sleep instead of trying to curl up on the small couch in the hospital room.

The person she had most been wanting to hear from, though, was silent thus far. Ron had taken his test the night before, but given that she had just woken up from the anesthesia when he started the exam, she clearly hadn't been able to follow through on her promise to grade his exam that night. She could only hope he wasn't too disappointed, and she planned to try to start her grading as soon as possible after she was allowed to go home.

She tried to read for the next half hour, barely able to concentrate on her book given her discomfort. Her attention was pulled to the side table, though, when her phone gave a faint chirp. The screen indicated that she had received a message from Ron, causing her lips to curl upwards into a small smile. She was hurrying to unlock her phone and read his message when her doctor strolled into the room.

"Ms. Granger, how are we feeling this morning?" Dr. Pomfrey asked.

Hermione plastered a smile on her face as she nodded toward the physician and set her phone back down. "I'm feeling alright. A bit tired, a bit sore, but that's to be expected."

"My apologies, I know spending the night here is far from ideal, but hopefully we'll have you out of here in no time. Now, did your family get the chance to explain how the procedure went?"

"They did, but I'll admit, I was still a bit woozy at the time. I don't remember much."

"That's fine, I'd rather go over it with you directly, especially since you're so well-versed in this field already," Dr. Pomfrey started, sitting down in an armchair across from Hermione's bed. "As you know, your EKG, stress test, and Holter monitor all showed signs of arrhythmia when we performed them earlier this week. Simply put, your heart was slowing down too much and too frequently. I wasn't surprised at the findings given your recent episodes of lightheadedness and passing out; those symptoms are quite common when patients have these types of issues. What did surprise me was how often it was happening. In patients with your cardiac history, however, this is unfortunately fairly common."

"I know," Hermione replied in a hushed tone, her eyes dropping down to the bedspread. "We all end up having heart rhythm problems eventually."

"For the most part, that is true. In your case, it took over twenty years to develop, which, believe it or not, is longer than most. That said, when it happens, we're sometimes left with no choice but to implant a permanent pacemaker, which we did yesterday. The procedure was successful, and your heart rate and rhythm have been steady all night."

"Except it's not my heart rate or my heart rhythm anymore, it's the pacemaker's doing."

Dr. Pomfrey stared back at Hermione with a warm gaze. It was clear she was trying her best to demonstrate empathy toward her patient. "That is correct. At this point, we feel it is safest for you to rely on your pacemaker instead of the rhythm your heart is trying to produce on its own. I wish that weren't the case, Hermione. But ultimately, we need to do what's best for you in the long run, and allowing your heart to continue these erratic rhythms could become extremely dangerous. It'll take some getting used to, but I'm confident you will be able to adapt."

"I hope so," Hermione said with a sigh. She knew this conversation was coming even before the doctor walked in the door, but it didn't make it any easier to hear. There was no way to sugarcoat it; her life would be different going forward.

"You will," Dr. Pomfrey confirmed as if she had no doubt. "Pacemaker technology has come a long way. The one you now have in your upper chest is the top of the line. It's capable of raising and lowering your heart rate when you're active just like a normal person's heart would. You can proceed like normal, and the pacemaker will handle it beautifully, I'm sure. I know it's an adjustment, but you can continue to do all the things you did before."

"I know I will once I'm used to it, but…it's just hard to wrap my head around the fact that I'm completely dependent on it for the rest of my life," Hermione replied, doing her best to hold back the tears that threatened her eyes.

"Hermione, listen," Dr. Pomfrey said, placing a gentle hand on top of Hermione's wrist. "I've known you since you were less than a week old. I've watched as you've grown up, graduated high school, and set off for college. At no point during that time was I worried that you wouldn't be able to manage your illness. That's a testament to your parents and it's a testament to you and your motivation to live your life to the fullest regardless of what's happening inside your ribcage. I'm sure that this change will be no different. After a slight adjustment, you'll continue to thrive until, someday, you end up taking my job."

Dr. Pomfrey always knew just what to say, and Hermione chuckled along with her physician. The benefit of going to college near her hometown was that she could continue to receive treatment for her heart issues from the same doctor in the same hospital she always had. During a highly stressful time, it was one of the best silver linings.

"Thanks, Dr. Pomfrey. I'll do my best."

"I know you will. Now, what say we get you out of here?"

"Today?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "I thought I was going to have to stay two nights?"

The physician stood up and examined the most recent readout of the monitor keeping track of Hermione's heart rhythm, nodding as she flipped through the pages. "I always tell patients to prepare for a two-night stay, but in all honesty, many are ready to go home the next day. You've recovered beautifully from the anesthesia, you've already been up and walking around, and all of your data so far suggests that the pacemaker is functioning perfectly."

"That's great to hear!"

"Indeed," Dr. Pomfrey assured her with a smile. "Now, as we discussed before the procedure, we can't guarantee that the pacemaker will continue to function properly. The unit itself is in an excellent position in your chest, but the wire that connects it to your heart can malfunction or become dislodged. That's why it's so important for you to stay in touch with us, especially if you notice any new or recurrent symptoms."

"I will, I promise."

"Excellent. In that case, I'm assuming you'd prefer to sleep in your own bed tonight, wouldn't you?"

Hermione quickly nodded. "Yes please, if you feel it's safe to do so."

"I do. I'll have a talk with the team. It'll still be a couple hours for the rest of them to sign off and for the nurses to get all of your paperwork together, but hopefully, we can get you out by mid-afternoon. You can't drive or do any heavy lifting for the next four to six weeks, so do you think you can arrange a ride home?"

"Yes, I'll figure something out. Thank you, Dr. Pomfrey, I'm so glad everything went well."

"So am I, Hermione. I'll be in touch, and we'll see you back in clinic next week."

"I'll be there," Hermione assured her doctor as she left the room.

The thought of getting out of the hospital bed and back into her own was all the motivation she needed, and she started collecting her belongings and tidying up the space around her. She reached for her phone, hoping to get in touch with her family when her eyes fell on the notification of Ron's text message.

A pang of guilt and anxiety hit her in the stomach as she opened the text, hoping that he wasn't upset that she hadn't graded his exam yet. But the message was sweet…sloppy and barely comprehensible, but sweet. She felt a bit of lightheadedness as she reread his words over and over again.

Just wanted to make sure ur ok.

As much as she wanted to message him right back, she knew that would just look overeager or desperate. Instead, she pulled up her mother's contact information and tapped out a message to her.

Hi Mom, they're letting me go home today! Any chance you or Dad could come get me in the early afternoon?

While she waited to hear back, she stood up and gingerly walked across the room to get her bag, her gown hanging open in the back and her underwear on full display. Being in the hospital was a constant lesson in humility, but fortunately, nobody walked into the room at that moment, and her dignity was spared. She quickly gathered her laptop and books and waited in the chair by the window, using the free time to catch up on her Women's Studies reading.

It took almost an hour for her mother to write back, and when she did, she didn't have good news.

That's great to hear, honey! I'm so glad they're letting you out! Dad and I are stuck at the office until six, but if you can wait until seven or so for us to pick you up, we'll be there!

Hermione's shoulders slumped against the mattress as she read her mother's reply. The last thing she wanted to do was sit around the hospital all day if she didn't need to, so she texted her parents back and let them know she would find another way while trying to think of other options. As a rule, she did her best to avoid asking her roommate to use her car, knowing that Parvati was very possessive of the graduation gift her parents had bought her, but it felt like a reasonable time to ask for a favor.

Hi Parvati, question for you. Is there any chance you're around and could come pick me up at the hospital later today? I didn't think I was going to be able to go home until tomorrow, but Dr. Pomfrey said today is fine. If you can't, no worries, I can wait until my parents are done with work for the day.

Unlike her mother, Parvati texted back almost instantly.

Hey hunny, so glad you're getting out! :P

Im home for the weekend, tho, so not sure I could help. Ill bring you back smthg tasty!

Luv ya! 3

She was running out of options. After sending a quick message back to Parvati, she scrolled through her phone, searching for other ways to get home. Uber was always a choice, but taking an Uber home from the hospital seemed horribly unfair.

As she considered her limited prospects, she remembered that she hadn't texted Ron back yet. She didn't want to tell him too much about the reason for her absence, but she also knew she owed him an explanation for not having his grade yet. It took her a while to compose the message exactly the way she wanted, and butterflies wouldn't stop swarming through her stomach as she considered her words.

Hi Ron, I'm sorry I'm just getting back to you now. I was hoping to grade your exam last night, but unfortunately, it simply wasn't possible. I apologize for the delay, and I'll do my best to get you your grade as soon as I can. I'm glad you felt it went well, though! I'll be in touch as soon as I can, and we're still on for this upcoming Wednesday. Apologies again!

For the next minute or two, she continued to stare at her screen, hoping to see three little dots appear on the left side of the display. When it didn't look like he was going to respond, though, she tossed her phone down, racking her brain as she tried to figure out a way to get home.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a stream of nurses and doctors, each checking in with her to do their part in making sure she was ready to be discharged. Despite the intermittent pain in her muscles and the stress of not knowing how she was going to make it home, she did her best to smile and answer their questions.

A half-hour later, her phone buzzed again. Her breathing hitched when she saw Ron's name appear again.

No prob as long as evrythings ok

As long as everything's okay. Everything was most certainly not okay, but that wasn't his problem.

Unless…didn't Ron say he had a car?

No, don't think like that. He's just a student you're tutoring, not your friend. At least, definitely not an 'ask him for a ride home from the hospital' level friend.

But she knew she didn't have many other options. The campus was quite easily accessible by foot, so very few people had cars. Parvati was the only person she knew well enough to ask, and she was seventy miles away for the weekend. She could wait for her parents, but the hospital was completely full and needed her room for another patient. That would mean waiting in the front lobby, everyone staring at her as they came in and out. Uber sounded disgusting, and asking Ron was humiliating and extremely awkward. There were nothing but bad choices.

In the end, it came down to one decision. Swallow her pride and ask Ron or roll the dice with an Uber? She took a deep breath and pulled out her phone again.

Hey, I'm so sorry to ask, but I'm in a bit of a bind. If you're around campus, do you think you'd be able to give me a ride? My roommate and parents are unavailable and I'm totally stuck. No pressure if you can't, and please don't worry about it if you're busy. Thanks for considering!

It only took him a few seconds to respond.

I dunno u think theres an extra 5pts on the exam for me if i do? ;)

She couldn't help but smile at his message. For as long as she could remember, she had been a very serious-minded person. Her family was warm and caring, but joking wasn't a normal part of their communication patterns.

On the other hand, half of what Parvati or Ron said couldn't be taken seriously, and she found their carefree attitudes refreshing. She wouldn't necessarily like those characteristics in a colleague, perhaps, but she knew that she could be a bit uptight at times. Having people in her life who made her laugh balanced things out.

Therefore, instead of responding to Ron seriously, she decided to play his game.

Didn't you say you did well? I doubt you'll even need the extra points.

A litle insurance never hurt

How about the insurance of me owing you a big favor?

Well….in that case sure! I wouldve don it for free, jus so u know. When n where?

She exhaled the breath she'd been holding in while waiting for his reply, a feeling of relief sweeping over her.

Thank you so much, I really appreciate it! I know it sounds strange, and I'll explain when you get here, but I had to stay overnight at the children's hospital last night. They're going to be discharging me in about an hour, and I'm just going back to my apartment.

As soon as she pressed Send, she waited for his answer. Seconds passed, then minutes, until eventually she started to worry that she'd completely freaked him out. Was he ghosting her? Not that she could blame him. It wasn't every day that a casual acquaintance asked you to pick them up from the hospital. Maybe she'd have to call an Uber after all.

Sry, i tried looking at a map but its a confusin place. Where exactly?

Whew!

Oh, I'm sorry! Just at the main entrance is fine. There's a circular driveway that leads up to a covered pick-up/drop-off zone. Thank you again so much, you're a complete lifesaver!

Ok see u soon

As soon as she had confirmation of her ride, Hermione got back to packing up her things. When she stepped in front of the mirror in the bathroom, though, she was reminded of another hard truth.

I look terrible!

Hermione took pride in the fact that she wasn't constantly obsessed with her looks, but at the moment, she was in a state of complete panic. Not three minutes ago, she'd accepted a ride home from someone she was fairly certain she had a crush on, and yet she hadn't even brushed her teeth! Adding insult to injury, the more she tried to hurry, the more her body tried to stop her, her muscles screaming at her to rest. No matter the pain, though, she pushed through.

Makeup wasn't a normal part of her daily routine, so she didn't have to worry about that, but she still tried to splash water on her face and return some of the color to her cheeks. Her bushy hair looked thoroughly unkempt, but after several minutes of brushing, she was able to put it up in a respectable messy bun. The only clothing she had were the ones she'd been wearing when she came in, but anything was better than a drafty hospital gown. She carefully changed back into her jeans and thin sweater, doing her best to minimize movement of her leg as the procedural wounds in her groin where the catheters were inserted were still healing.

By the time one of the nurses arrived around two o'clock to take her to the main exit, she was as satisfied as she was going to be with her appearance. Clutching her bag to her chest, she lowered herself into the wheelchair and tried to get comfortable as they started toward the main lobby.

The elevator ticked down floors, bringing her closer to what was sure to be a clumsy interaction. Hermione couldn't help but wonder how he would react to the situation in person, and her chest tightened at the prospect of the upcoming difficult conversation. Would he be terrified? Would he start treating her differently once he knew she had a chronic disease? Would he even want to continue working with her? She wished these weren't realistic concerns, but history had taught her that they were well-founded.

As they got off the elevator and rolled through the bright, airy, and crowded lobby, she closed her eyes and tried to calm herself as they approached the exit. The large glass double doors slid open, and she opened her eyes. An old silver sedan was parked right in front, its tall, ginger driver leaning against the hood. His eyes widened and he swallowed as he caught sight of her, jumping away from the car and opening the passenger door. After the nurse tucked away the foot pedals of the wheelchair, Ron stepped toward her and offered his hand to help her into the car.

"Ready?"