The Dream Trilogy Book One: To Dwell On Dreams (A Harry Potter FanFiction)

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

The front door had a soft glow shining through the frosted glass pane engraved with the same logo Harry had seen on the sign out front. Gently he pushed it open, and a bell tinkled quietly to alert people of his presence. A rather plump middle aged West Indian lady was sat at the reception desk in front of him. She was talking on the phone in language Harry couldn't even begin to understand, and eyed him suspiciously as he approached. She spoke a little more in her own tongue, then held the phone slightly away as he reached the desk.

"We are closing in five minutes. Did you want an appointment?"

"Actually," said Harry through dry lips. "I'm here to see Hermione, do you know where she is?"

The woman clicked her teeth. "The family residence is through the other door, this is for patients only, you should know this."

"Oh," said Harry, feeling himself getting flustered with nerves. This could go so horribly wrong. "I'm really sorry. Could you maybe point me in the right direction."

The receptionist clicked her teeth again, then spoke briefly to whoever was on the phone and pressed a few buttons. "Dr Granger?" she said after a moment. "There is another boy here looking for your daughter." Pause. "Okay." She pressed her buttons again and began talking down the phone in her own dialect and ignored Harry.

Should he wait, what was happening? He was feeling very hot after being out in the cold and now standing in the central heating, bundled up like an Eskimo. This was a bad idea. He was debating whether or not to ask the receptionist again or just simply run away, when a lady in a white doctor's coat walked through the double doors on his right.

"Can I help you?" she asked a little coolly as she approached where Harry stood.

"Um," stuttered Harry. "Yes - I...are you Hermione's mum then?"

The woman, Dr Granger apparently, nodded. "Yes I am. What do you want to see Hermione for, it's late."

It was only about six thirty, Harry was sure, but he didn't say anything. "I need her help with something," he said, trying to regain his confidence. "It's really important."

Dr Granger, looked him up and down and folded her arms. "You know," she began, shaking her head. "I don't like you boys being round here, Hermione's a good girl."

Harry stared at Dr Granger, and slowly he felt his eyebrows raise. Just what was she talking about? "I know Hermione's a good girl," he said defensively. "That's why I need her help. Please, is she here?"

Dr Granger was quite a tall woman, and her hair was just as brown and fly away as her daughter's as she flicked it over her shoulder in agitation. "Come with me."

They went through the double doors she had just entered through, crossed a waiting room full of chairs and a selection well used of toys littered across the floor. A lone teenage boy was sat dejectedly on their right. He was skinny with a lot of pimples. "I'll be with you in just a moment Thomas," Dr Granger told him in a clipped voice, then pushed through another door that read 'Private - Do No Enter.'

This door led to a large entrance hall with several doors leading off. The carpet swirled with various tones of red and black, the lights on the wall weren't quite as bright as they needed to be and the air was slightly musty compared to the mouthwash scent lingering in the surgery. They headed up a flight of stairs, turned the corner right and went to the door on the left. "Hermione," called Dr Granger, knocking smartly on the door. "Come out here please."

There was a scrambling noise through the wood, hurried footsteps and then someone grappled for the door. Hermione Granger appeared in the crack, but no sooner had she seen the two of them on the other side she gasped and closed the door. Harry had spotted a line of metal across her teeth when she'd gasped, and when the door was jerked open again, the line was gone.