Snippets
Chapter Two
A week after her 'dinner' with Harry, Ron, Ginny and Padma, Hermione sits on an exam table in a sterile, white patient room as she awaits her first meeting with her new neurological Healer.
Hermione pinches her left ring finger between her thumb and index finger of her right hand. She knows that Padma was likely correct in her advice that Hermione should see a Healer. Hermione herself had considered it, however, the further away from St. Mungo's she can keep herself, the better.
As Aurors, she has seen both Harry and Ron laid up with injuries varying in grievousness in the emergency department, and she would very much not like to remember those moments– and Mungo's brings back those memories in an onslaught.
Hermione hears a quick, double knock on the door to her room before a Healer in green robes enters the room. The robes are a darker, viridian green, as opposed to the vibrant lime color of the St. Mungo's Healers Hermione has interacted with in the past. She supposes that this change denotes the difference in specialty.
"Good morning, Ms. Granger," the petite young woman with icy blonde hair, whom Hermione recognizes immediately, speaks. "My name is Healer Greengrass."
Hermione vaguely remembers Daphne Greengrass from her time at Hogwarts. If memory serves (and Hermione isn't entirely sure of that fact anymore), she remembers Daphne being in Slytherin– friends with Pansy Parkinson, perhaps? Hermione doesn't remember having many positive interactions with Slytherins, but admittedly, she also doesn't remember having any especially negative interactions with this particular Slytherin.
Hermione had been surprised when Padma suggested Healer Greengrass to her, but she trusted her friend's judgment. She hopes that she was right to.
"I remember you," Hermione states, keeping her voice level. The truth is, Hermione doesn't even know Daphne Greengrass. She could be– and likely is, based on Padma's recommendation– an excellent Healer. School rivalries should be left exactly there– at school, which was now over a decade ago.
Healer Greengrass smiles a kind smile.
"And I you, though, you're a bit more memorable than me," she laughs lightly– a professional, dainty little laugh. "Do you prefer Ms. Granger or Hermione?"
Hermione shrugs.
"Either."
Healer Greengrass slides over a stool and takes a seat, balancing a folder of parchment on her knee and holding a self-inking quill in her right hand.
"So, tell me what brings you in today, Ms. Granger," Healer Greengrass states, poising her quill to begin taking notes.
Hermione details her experience to Healer Greengrass, explaining to the best of her ability what the visions feel like and how unpredictable they are.
"How long have these 'visions' been persisting?" Healer Greengrass asks, scribbling out a few notes on her parchment.
Hermione tries to think back.
"A few months, probably?" Hermione responds, but it sounds more like a question than a statement.
Healer Greengrass nods, writes on her parchment again before looking back up at Hermione.
"Ms. Granger, I'd like to keep you overnight for observation. I'd like to monitor your symptoms in a controlled environment so I can deduce any potential triggers or causes and work from there. We'll start with one night, but I must say that the process could take a bit longer. We won't know until we begin," Healer Greengrass states, standing from her stool to step closer to Hermione.
Hermione nods, understanding that as much of an inconvenience as this is, that she, too, wants to get to the root of the problem and stop the visions, if possible.
"Alright, then. I'll admit you, beginning now. Mediwitches will be checking in with you once every hour, and myself or one of my colleagues will be visiting you to run different diagnostic and maintenance charms and spells every few hours."
Hermione nods again, pulling at a loose string on the hem of her skirt.
"Thank you, Healer Greengrass," Hermione states quietly. She's nervous, but she trusts Healer Greengrass. Or rather, she trusts Padma, and by extension, Healer Greengrass.
Healer Greengrass smiles a warm smile– which contrasts starkly with her pale skin, ice blue eyes and platinum hair– and tucks her quill behind her ear.
"I'll be back to see you in a few hours, Ms. Granger. Please, let the Mediwitches know if there's anything we can do for you, or if there's anyone we can call for you."
"I'm sorry for calling you, Gin," Hermione apologizes from her bed at St. Mungo's, looking forlornly at her heavily pregnant close friend. "I didn't want to bother Harry or Ron at work, and Padma has Priya to worry about. I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have–"
Ginny Weasley-Potter narrows her eyes at Hermione, effectively cutting off her apologies.
"You should have told us when these visions started," Ginny frowns, taking a seat in a tufted armchair beside her bed. "But don't you dare apologize. Apart from my husband, you are my best friend, 'Mione. I would've been pissed if you hadn't called me."
Hermione smiles a weak smile, but reaches for Ginny's hand all the same.
"Thanks, Gin."
Ginny squeezes Hermione's hand, and it brings a level of comfort which Hermione hasn't seen the likes of in quite some time.
"Daphne Greengrass is my Healer," Hermione states, her voice level. Healer Greengrass was nothing but kind and supportive of her in their initial meeting, as well as the first time she checked in on Hermione to set her monitoring charms before Ginny arrived.
"She was the blonde Greengrass sister, right? Your year?" Ginny asks, furrowing her eyebrows.
Hermione nods in confirmation.
"She seems fine– knowledgeable," Hermione sighs, running her fingers through her curls in an attempt to alleviate some of her anxiety.
"I'm sure you're in good hands, 'Mione," Ginny tries, rubbing her thumb in soothing circles across the back of Hermione's hand. It's so blatantly obvious to Hermione that her friend is a mother by the way she comforts others when they're down– she has a real knack for it, which is coming quite in handy in this moment for Hermione.
"Thanks for being here, Gin," Hermione whispers, meeting her friend's eye briefly.
"There is nowhere else I would be right now, 'Mione. Try to rest. I'll wake you if your Healer comes back."
Hermione's eyes open slowly, the last dregs of the most recent vision clinging to her consciousness.
This time, it was an image of herself, which could've been an actual memory if not for certain distinct elements. In this image, she was curled up on a cozy, plush sofa, with a book in one hand and a (unfamiliar) mug of tea in the other. Behind her sat a wall of bookshelves, full to the brim of different tomes, some appearing to be as old as Hogwarts itself. The room was unfamiliar to Hermione as well, and the dark green drapes seemed unlike something Hermione might've chosen for herself, leading her to believe that she could possibly be in someone else's home in this vision. The level of comfort she appeared to possess in this image suggested that vision-Hermione was familiar with the home and presumably, the owner, and she catches herself wondering who that person might be before she brushes it off as a ridiculous thought.
These visions are just inventions of her subconscious. Despite feeling like memories, Hermione knows logically that they're not. She can't explain them, but she knows with absolute certainty that she has never been in a room like the one in her dream.
"Oh, Healer Greengrass, she's awake," Hermione hears a familiar voice speak, noticing then that the blurry image of Harry Potter is slowly becoming clearer.
Harry stands at the left side of Hermione's bed, beside the chair which still holds his pregnant wife, while Healer Greengrass stands with a smile at the foot of her bed. Her quill is still tucked behind her right ear and she's holding her wand in her right hand.
"Did you sleep alright, Ms. Granger?" Healer Greengrass asks, tilting her head slightly as if listening intently for whatever response Hermione will give.
Hermione shrugs and frowns.
"It happened again," Hermione states, pressing her fingers to her temples in an attempt to relieve her newfound headache.
Healer Greengrass nods, stepping to the side and walking closer to Hermione's right side, opposite Harry and Ginny.
"I know. Do you remember those monitoring charms I cast on you once you got settled in this room?" Hermione nods. "The charms monitor your brainwaves, similar, I'm told, to a Muggle EEG, or electroencephalogram. They picked up on some activity, which I believe to be your so-called visions. We'll confirm this the next time you have a vision while awake, but this is good progress for just the first day."
Healer Greengrass raises her wand and enlarges the magical scans hovering above Hermione. She flicks her wand and sorts through the different images, scrunching her face in concentration.
"Alright, Ms. Granger, I'll leave you to spend some time with your friends. I'll come back tonight, and the Mediwitch will be in to see you in a little while."
Hermione nods and offers another feeble smile.
"Thank you, Healer Greengrass."
Harry and Ginny leave around seven in the evening when the visiting hours end, leaving Hermione alone.
Hermione looks around the room, taking in her surroundings for the first time since her admittance. Her bed is in the center, the headboard pushed up against one wall. She has two tables on either side of the bed, one which houses a glass of water shimmering with a stasis charm, and the other which is empty.
To the left of her bed is the tufted chair which Ginny had occupied for the afternoon and off to the left, under the window, is a matching tufted bench. Harry had taken a seat on that bench at one time during his visit, his black Auror robes fanning out around him, covering the bench's sage green material.
Beside the bench is a wall sconce with a half-melted taper candle, which is lit and emitting a soft, warm glow around Hermione's room.
Hermione, not for the first time, tries to think back to what might have caused these visions.
Three months ago, she was working on a werewolf case for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. All human-presenting creatures are required to file with the Ministry, disclosing their creature status within two weeks of their diagnosis or initial presentation. Hermione was meeting with a pack of werewolves to file on behalf of one of their new pack members– a young boy who was bitten by one of Greyback's remaining rogues.
The meeting had gone well– better than well. It was nowhere near a full moon, so all of the pack members were lucid and respectful. Nothing untoward happened– at all. The visions started two days after her final meeting with the pack, but Hermione doubts completely that the two situations are connected.
Hermione closes her eyes again, still unsure of what triggers these images, but finds herself met with flashes of another snippet. She's standing in front of a large mirror, pinning a pair of sparkly earrings (which she doesn't recognize) to her ears, clearly speaking to someone with a smile on her face. She's laughing– she looks happy. The mirror is slightly fogged, but behind the reflection of herself, Hermione sees a steam-obstructed silhouette which appears to be male– presumably the same pale-skinned, gold-wedding-band-wearing man she's seen in her visions before– in the shower.
Hermione still doesn't have enough information to recognize the aforementioned man. She can tell that he's likely tall, based on the difference in his height versus her own in the mirror reflection, and that he's fair-skinned, but otherwise, she can see no distinctive features. His hair is covered in soap bubbles and any other features like tattoos or scars are blurred by the steam from the shower.
Hermione opens her eyes and shakes her head, as if to clear it. She spends the following moment trying to figure out who the man in her vision might be before she remembers that he's not a real person. He's a figment of her imagination, likely brought on due to the fact that she hasn't been on a date in over a year.
That has to be it, Hermione thinks. After all, what other explanation could there be?
Hi, friends! ... Yes, I'm aware that it's not Tuesday and that it hasn't even been a week since the previous upload. HOWEVER. I actually finished writing this fic last night, so I thought that a celebration was in order! Not to mention the fact that I almost cried when I wrote the last words. I just can't believe that this massive project that I've been working on since before Christmas is now complete... and that now I get to hear all of your thoughts about it! (:
So, here we are, chapter two. I said that I sometimes do bonus uploads, right? :P
Oh, also, in case you were wondering, this fic is, in fact, thirty-eight chapters in total, including three epilogues. Yes, three. And I already miss writing it. I've been writing all of my life, and I genuinely don't think I've ever felt a mourning-period or loss like I've felt the past twenty-four hours after finishing this fic. I'm sure that that sounds silly, but hey, that's how I feel.
Also, thank you for all of the love and support that you all have already shown this fic and to me, I truly cannot thank you all enough. You cannot know how much it means to me, but I promise you, your support is everything to me.
Thank you, as always, for spending a bit of your time here with me this week and I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Please, if you feel so inclined, review. I love to hear your thoughts. (:
Now, this time I actually mean it when I say 'see you next week'! :P