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01 | Unexpected Visits

-- 6 YEARS AFTER THE WAR

"Come on! It's a Friday, and I know your shift ends early today. You'll have fun!"

"Katie, as great as that sounds, I should really head home. You know I've been working late shifts this entire week, I need a break!" The young witch pleaded with her coworker. It was the end of a long, exhausting week, and as much as Hermione loved Katie, she wasn't in the mood to do anything but curl up in front of the telly with a nice cup of cocoa. "Besides, I have to feed Crooks!"

Katie rolled her eyes, scoffing lightly. "Like we both don't know that you have his food charmed to refill automatically in case you get held up here."

Hermione grinned lightly, not denying the girl's accusations.

"Very well," Katie pouted dramatically. "If you're alright with leaving me alone to wander into the dangers of London all by my lonesome, by all means."

"The only thing you're in danger of, Katie Bell, is getting ravished by the next handsome bloke you ensnare in those clubs," Hermione goaded, already familiar with her habit of drawing in men like bees to nectar.

"All the more reason for you to come!" She insisted enthusiastically. "It's about time we put an end to your dry spell, don't you think?"

"Katie!" Hermione cried, unable to decide whether to laugh or be indignant.

This exchange had become a weekly habit of theirs. After the war, Hermione had dived headfirst into the art of healing; she'd seen too much violence and carnage, and having the power to heal helped her feel in control. She'd quickly become close with Katie Bell, who was just a year ahead of her in Hogwarts. Looking back, Hermione had to admit her friendship with Katie had been one of the best things to happen to her. She'd never had many female friends at Hogwarts, and hanging out with the easy-going witch had really helped her flourish not just professionally, but in her personal life as well. In their earlier years, Hermione would often take Katie up on her pleas to go enjoy the nightlife together, but ever since she'd been promoted to Head Healer of the Trauma Ward, her workload was draining more and more of her energy.

"Healer Granger, emergency in the trauma ward. Calling Healer Granger. You're needed in the trauma ward."

"Ugh..." Katie groaned at the repetitive call. "Off you go again."

"You know, if I didn't have such shy trainees, I might feel confident enough to let them deal with at least half these cases they keep dragging me over for," Hermione admitted wearily, sliding out from behind her desk.

"Healer Granger. Emergency in the trauma ward. Calling Healer Granger."

Before Hermione could take another step, a blinding silver light shot into her office, landing on top of her desk. Hermione felt her heart drop- they hadn't used patronuses for communication since the days of the war, at least not in her field. When the ball of light materialized into the magnificent stag belonging to her best friend, Hermione could hardly control the fear coursing through her veins.

"Hermione," Harry's panicked voice called out to her. "We need you, there's been a werewolf attack. Please, hurry!"

Hermione was out the door, shooting down the hall long before the patronus had the chance to dissipate. Katie followed on her heels, but Hermione couldn't process anything other than her singular goal to get to that ward.

She turned the corner, and her first glimpse of Harry made her blood run cold. He was leaning heavily against the nurse's counter, and he was drenched in blood. She sped up, breaking into a run.

"Harry," she cried, studying him closely for tears in his clothes or claw marks and bites, though it was difficult to discern through the blood. She ran her palm over his torso and shoulders, reassuring herself and taking inventory of him. Harry gently grabbed her elbows, pushing her away.