Snippets
Chapter Three
Hermione spends three days in St. Mungo's under the watchful eye of Healer Greengrass and her team. When she's finally released and given strict orders to document all of her visions– date, time and content– she breathes a sigh of relief.
Ron escorts her home from Mungo's, refusing to accept Hermione's protests that she is entirely capable of getting herself home without getting lost or misplacing a limb on the way.
"I'm not an invalid, Ronald," Hermione groans as Ron insists on holding her arm in case she, by some twist of fate– considering her mobility hasn't been affected thus far– falls over.
"I know, but I promised my wife that I would get you home safely and I do not want to be on her bad side at the moment," Ron laughs in response, walking Hermione down the hall and into her bedroom. "Padma wanted to bring you home herself, but Priya was fussing so the duty fell to me."
Ron turns down the quilt on Hermione's bed and stands back while she sits down, kicking her shoes off before tucking them up and sitting cross-legged on her bed.
Hermione sighs, realizing then that Ron is being a considerate friend. She should be grateful that she has people who love her like this.
"Thank you, Ron," Hermione mumbles, twiddling her thumbs uncomfortably.
Ron, despite their somewhat sordid history, is still one of Hermione's closest friends. The pair had dated for just over a year following the War but had fizzled out when the dust had settled and they'd realized that they had very little in common in regards to sustaining a romantic relationship. Their goals and the sorts of lives they wished to lead were quite different. One was not more or less right than the other– they were just different.
Ronald had wanted to get started on building a family immediately, but at the time, Hermione wasn't ready for that– she was barely twenty, after all. After that disagreement, every disagreement felt like the end of the world, until finally, it was. It was nearly three years after their break-up before Hermione and Ron could even stand to be in the same room as one another.
Two years after that, Ron re-met Padma Patil and the rest, as they say, was history. They've been together now for nearly five years, married for two, and are now parents to a beautiful little girl.
"How are you, 'Mione? Really," Ron asks, twisting around the chair from Hermione's desk to face her and taking a seat.
"I'm fine, Ron, really," Hermione states, sighing once again when Ron raises an eyebrow at her, as if in disbelief. "I'm… I'm confused. But– but I'm in good hands. Please, Ron, go home and kiss your wife and daughter. They need you far more than I do."
Ron scoffs and leans his elbows on his knees.
"My wife and my daughter are my first priority, 'Mione, but you're still one of my best friends. I know– I know we aren't as close as we used to be, but you know that I'm here for you– that we're all here for you, right?"
Hermione nods. She knows that. She knows that she has the support of her friends. It's easy to feel like an outsider now that her two best friends are married with children, but that feeling isn't due to anything her friends have said or done– it's her own self-consciousness plaguing her thoughts.
Now with the visions, it's even worse. She's been so focused on what's been going on inside her own head that she's noticed herself pulling away from reality. Perhaps now that her friends at least know about the visions, she can allow them to help her to accept the fact that she doesn't have to do this alone.
Hermione's next vision comes while she's plaiting her hair for bed.
This vision is of a frantic-looking Hermione, her hair sticking up at odd angles as she reads from what appears to be a small recipe card. She's stirring a sickly-green looking concoction as it bubbles on the stove, her brow creasing ever more as time ticks on. Eventually, vision-Hermione twists the burner knob on the stove harshly, presumably turning the stove off, and slams the lid onto the pot. Then she reaches for her Muggle mobile phone as she pulls a menu for what appears to be an Italian take-away place out of a drawer beside her stove.
When Hermione comes to this time, she can't help but laugh lightly. Of all of her visions thus far, this one seems the most realistic to her. Cooking has never been Hermione's strong suit, so the idea of getting so frustrated with cooking that she orders take-away instead feels absolutely like something she might do.
It does strike Hermione as being a bit strange that this vision even involved cooking to begin with, as real-Hermione had all but given up on learning the skill several years ago, but in any case, at least this image didn't involve a mystery man or mystery child.
Hermione finishes plaiting her hair and brushing her teeth, readying herself for bed. Bedtime has been her least favorite time of the day for her since the onset of these visions. Hermione relies heavily on Dreamless Sleep potion in order to get something resembling a restful sleep.
In an effort to delay the inevitable just slightly, Hermione reaches for the journal which she purchased to track her 'dreams' in. Healer Greengrass mentioned how helpful it might be to track the date, time and content of the visions to see if there's a pattern, trigger or common denominator between them. Hermione writes, in detail, about her vision, dates and times it before closing her journal and tucking it back into her desk drawer.
Hermione sighs and decides that she cannot delay any further. After all, she returns to work tomorrow morning, then has an appointment with Healer Greengrass in the afternoon, so she figures that she ought to try to get as much sleep as she can do. Hermione uncorks a vial of Dreamless Sleep from her nightstand, downs the potion and crawls into bed.
Hermione lies her head on her pillow, closes her eyes, and– for once– falls asleep without images of herself that are not really her playing behind her lids.
Hermione's first day back at the office is relatively uneventful. Delilah made appoint to keep her calendar fairly sparse for the day, unsure of how Hermione would feel upon her return, leaving just two meetings– the first with occasional consultant, Charlie Weasley, regarding a Norwegian Ridgeback egg which had been confiscated from a dealer upon his arrest, and the second with a Veela named Clarice who wanted to register her creature status privately, without the typical home visit.
Charlie's visit led right into lunch, which worked out well as the dragon-tamer then insisted on treating Hermione to 'a proper meal, unlike the swill they serve [at the Ministry].' She had never known Charlie Weasley incredibly well considering his work in Romania, but since taking her position at the DRCMC, they've grown closer. He's become– like the rest of the Weasleys– a close friend of hers. Charlie expressed concern for her condition when she explained it to him and offered her an escape to Romania should she ever want to get away for a while.
Hermione thanked him for his offer, but knew in her heart of hearts that she would have to stay in England, at least until Healer Greengrass could come up with an idea as to why she is plagued by the visions, or at the very least, a way to stop them.
Hermione leaves work at precisely four p.m., unwilling to be late to her first follow-up appointment with Healer Greengrass. She sits in a similar, clinical exam room to the first time she met Healer Greengrass and waits until she hears the tell-tale double knock on the door which prefaces the entrance of her Healer into the room.
"Hello, Ms. Granger," a voice, which is distinctly not that of Healer Greengrass speaks. "Healer Greengrass has been called away. She sends her regards and will see you at your next appointment in one week."
Hermione stares, her heart rate beginning to pick up speed. That voice. She hasn't heard it in close to a decade, yet she's positive that she would still know it anywhere. It's less sharp than she remembers, but it still transports her back to 1992 regardless.
"My name is Healer Malfoy, though, I expect that you knew that."
Hermione gapes, blinking once, twice.
"You're a Healer?" Hermione snaps, her voice admittedly a bit harsh– probably.
Malfoy leans up against a countertop across the room from the exam table Hermione is perched atop, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk.
"Did the robes give it away?" Malfoy asks, sarcasm coating his words. "Or was it the fact that I introduced myself as 'Healer Malfoy', perhaps?"
Hermione rolls her eyes, her knuckles turning white as she grips the exam table with abandon.
"Where's Healer Greengrass?" Hermione demands. She tells herself that it's due to the fact that Healer Greengrass knows her case and that Malfoy would need to be brought up to speed if her follow-up appointment were to continue as planned. She tells herself that it has nothing to do with the fact that her apparent Healer was also the first person to ever call her a slur.
"She's been called away for a patient emergency. I am covering her service in her stead," Malfoy responds, his voice annoyingly level. "Now, I have reviewed your charts, as well as Healer Greengrass' prior notes. How was your first night away from these lovely sterile walls?"
Hermione's mouth opens and closes as she attempts to find her words. Evidently, this process takes longer than Healer Malfoy would've liked, as he removes his silver-framed reading glasses– which Hermione hadn't noticed until his long, pale fingers reached for them– and looks intently at her.
"Listen, Granger– sorry, Ms. Granger– you are a patient and I am a Healer. I recognize that we have a history. I'd be happy to discuss that history with you at another time, but right now, I would like to do my job. Will you let me do that, please?"
Hermione closes her eyes briefly, exhaling heavily. She knows that she has a decision to make. She can either get up and leave– and wait a week until she can see Healer Greengrass– or she can take advantage of the Healer who is right in front of her.
Upon making her decision, Hermione reaches into her beaded bag and produces her journal, handing it over to Malfoy without a word.
Malfoy appears to wait for Hermione's permission– a singular, curt nod– before loosening the band and flicking open the journal to the first page, which is dated for yesterday evening.
Malfoy replaces his reading glasses onto the bridge of his nose before he scans the page, taking a few notes with a self-inking quill on a bit of parchment in a file folder with the letters H. G.R.A. on the tab. Malfoy sets the quill down on the parchment, presumably when he finishes his notes, then looks back to Hermione as he hands her journal back to her.
Malfoy raises both hands, palms facing Hermione, as if to say that he is not a threat.
"I'm going to cast a few charms to check your vitals and your neurological activity, as per Healer Greengrass' notes. Is that alright with you?"
Hermione, admittedly, feels uneasy at the prospect of Draco Malfoy raising his wand in her direction, regardless of his intent, however, when it came to Healer Greengrass, she was able to let sleeping dogs lie, as it were. In fairness, Hermione's prior relationship to Healer Greengrass was worlds away from that of her relationship to Draco Malfoy, but Hermione trusted Healer Greengrass– and if Healer Greengrass trusts Healer Malfoy enough to have him cover her service, then perhaps Hermione can stomach a couple of diagnostic spells from the startlingly blonde man.
Hermione nods her consent and watches as Malfoy casts a handful of spells, his face twisting in concentration in a similar fashion to how Healer Greengrass' had just the day prior.
"Your vitals are stable," Malfoy states, canceling his spells, lowering his wand and tucking it away into a pocket in his robes. "Do you have any questions for me? Or for Healer Greengrass?"
Hermione shakes her head. Fortunately, the only vision she has had since her discharge from St. Mungo's yesterday was the one before bed last night, and it wasn't a particularly distressing vision at that. Perhaps she would have more to say if she had had other visions– or if she had a different Healer.
Malfoy nods, stepping back from Hermione and gathering up his file and quill.
"It's been a pleasure, Ms. Granger. Healer Greengrass will see you again in one week. Please continue to keep your detailed journal. She will review it with you at your next appointment. If any new or worsening symptoms arise between now and then, please don't hesitate to contact us. Enjoy the rest of your day."
Hi, friends! Happy Tuesday! (:
Woohoo! Our first appearance of our second main character is here! ... And don't hate me, but this is also his last appearance for quite a while. At the moment, it doesn't make sense for these two to interact much, so say goodbye to Draco for a few chapters. :P
Also, I hadn't mentioned it before, and it's probably obvious now, but this whole fic is from Hermione's point of view. My previous two Dramiones were alternating points of view, but this one is thirty-eight chapters of Hermione's voice. I wanted to practice writing for her and I think I've succeeded, lol. :P
As always, thank you so much for spending a bit of your time here with me today. I truly appreciate you.
I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and please let me know what you think / if you're excited for this fic in the reviews! I love hearing your thoughts! (: