Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. Inc., Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Raincoast, and any other affiliated party.
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"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted."
Matthew 5:4
Chapter 3: A Girl with no Legs
Europe was a hellhole those days. A land where evil did not sleep and darkness was ever present. People lived in fear as dark creatures wandered around terrorizing their victims that could not hide away. The great cities of Paris, Berlin, Rome, Prague, Madrid, Barcelona, Munich, Moscow, Florence, St. Petersburg, and Athens had been converted into Dark Fortresses where Death Eaters lived in great luxury while beggars littered the streets, forever preyed on by the dark creatures whom roamed Europe. But, the most horrible, yet magnificent of these fortress cities was London where Voldemort himself resided: in a great fortress known as Parselrock. This fortress was the symbol of the Dark Lord's reign of terror and its dungeons were a spawning ground for the legions of dark creatures that served Voldemort.
There were labor camps all over the continent. Muggles and muggle-borns were used in slave labor to construct the mighty fortresses that were once metropolitan cities. Yet resistance movements constantly sprung up, mostly in the labor camps themselves. Muggles and muggle-borns as well as many pure bloods fought the dark terror overrunning Europe, and most never gave up hope that they would survive and peace would return.
There was a labor camp near Paris that had British slaves working there. One day, a five-year old muggle boy was pushing a rock around as part of the slave program. He was weak and hungry, and most people would not be able to imagine the harsh brutality of forcing a boy so young to work such backbreaking labor.
As the boy worked hard to get his job done, the roof of the shelter he was in suddenly started to collapse due to disrepair! Too exhausted, the boy couldn't understand the cries of warning as the roof fell on his head. At the last minute, a girl about the age of eighteen dove forward and pushed the boy out of the way. In the process however, her legs were crushed under the debris and she blacked out.
* * * * * * * * * *
When the young girl finally came to, she found herself lying in a bed in a dark room. She also noticed that someone was moving around in the room. "Where am I? Who's there?" she asked weakly in a clear London accent.
"Shh, everything's OK now," said the person. It turned out to be an American woman in her early thirties with shoulder length blonde hair and warm blue eyes. "I'm Dr. Susan Thomas, a surgeon. You're in what was Versailles Palace. It's the headquarters of the French resistance now." She gently stroked the girl's hair with a kind smile on her face. The girl in the bed had long frizzy golden brown hair that went down to the small of her back and cinnamon brown eyes.
"The boy? Is he..."
"He's OK. He's here with us in the resistance. You saved his life. Now child, tell me, what is your name?"
"Hermione. Hermione Granger." Hermione's face suddenly turned into a look of alarm and fear. "Doctor, why can't I feel my legs?" she asked, her voice shaking.
Susan Thomas suddenly looked very sorrowful. "Hermione, I'm so sorry. I don't know how to say this, but by the time we were able to clear the debris off of you...Hermione, I'm so sorry."
Hermione apprehensively glanced at her covers at where her legs should've been. As soon as she saw the lack of the bumps in her covers she started weeping, for it could only mean one thing. Both of her legs had been amputated above her knees. Susan gently comforted the crying girl as Hermione wept for the loss of her legs, yet felt thankful that she was still alive.
* * * * * * * * * *
The resistance found an old wheelchair for Hermione. They were all muggles whom had developed a deep hatred for the magical community due to Voldemort's reign. For that reason, Hermione kept the fact that she was a muggle-born witch a secret for the time being.
Hermione got used to the wheelchair in no time. She was still sad about the loss of her legs but she decided that at least she was alive and that she would enjoy the rest of her life even without the ability to walk. If she was even slightly resentful of the fact that if it were a witch or wizard whom had found her, she would still have her legs, she hid it well.
Hermione got to know the members of the muggle resistance very well. They were all once people who had their own lives, jobs, families, and were blissfully unaware of the existence of the magical world: until Voldemort came. Now, they had lost everything to the Dark Forces and the only thing that had left was to fight back. Indeed, Hermione found that the former palace was lain out with all sorts of muggle weapons: machine guns, hand grenades, cannons, missile launchers, rifles and other weapons she had no clue were.
Hermione grew to become friends with Susan Thomas. Despite their age difference, they became quite close and were on a first name basis. On the other hand, John Seymour, the leader of the resistance remained skeptical of the legless girl in a wheel chair. He seemed to be convinced that Hermione was a magical spy and was always interrogating her.
"So where are you from?" asked Seymour.
Hermione sighed exasperated. "I've told you so many times John. I'm from London, but I went to boarding school in Scotland."
The Texan resistance fighter looked unconvinced. He was a large man at six foot four and was loaded with muscles, around 28 years of age with a full head of blonde hair along with beard and moustache. He often boasted that he was once a Texas Ranger. Hermione couldn't help but feel small around him, which she definitely was without her legs.
"So did you have any friends at this boarding school?" asked Seymour, not even bothering to hide his skepticism.
"Yes, two inseparable best friends," said Hermione a little sadly. It hurt her to talk about Harry and Ron. Both of them had disappeared from her, Harry two years ago, and Ron just a few months before. She missed them dearly, especially Harry.
During their school days, Hermione had feelings for Harry Potter. Yet she always dismissed those feelings believing them to be simply nothing more than a childhood crush. It was only after Harry had disappeared that she realized that her feelings were not just a childhood crush: that she was in love with her missing best friend. Hermione had spent many nights after her epiphany crying herself to sleep since she had no clue of what had happened to Harry.
After Harry's disappearance, Voldemort had grown more and more powerful until he had become the ruler of Europe. Hogwarts was one of the last safest places in the world but even the school couldn't keep out the Death Eaters forever. She and Ron stuck together after Harry had left, but even that had ended on their graduation day. On that day, the Death Eaters finally breached the defensive wards of the school and either killed or captured all the students and teachers there. Many had fled but Hermione had been amongst those that had been captured. Since then, she was carted off to different labor camps throughout Europe until she was finally taken to the Paris labor camp. There, she had run into the accident that had cost her legs. And now, here she was in Versailles, with a muggle resistance group.
"So how do we know that you're not some spy for those witches and wizards?" hissed Seymour.
Susan threw her arms up exasperated. "John. She lost her legs saving a child's life. How much more convincing do you need?"
"But if she were a witch, the loss of limbs would be nothing. They can grow 'em back."
Hermione would've laughed if the situation weren't serious. Wizard medicine could not grow back amputated limbs. But the muggle ignorance was starting to get on her nerves a little.
"I'm going outside," said Hermione. She wheeled her chair out to the balcony. From there, she could see Paris in the distance. All the landmarks, the Eiffel tower, the Arc du Troiumphe, and Notre Dame Cathedral were still standing. But they were now magical strongholds of a dark fortress city. The gloomy atmosphere surrounding Paris looked so different from when he had last visited there with her parents back when she was twelve years old, during the summer before her third year.
Her parents. Hermione let a few tears slide down her cheeks. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were murdered by Death Eaters during the spring of her fifth year. Hermione could still remember her world come collapsing down when she received the owl that bore the news. And she could still feel the warmth of Harry comforting her while she cried the entire night in his arms. It was a few months after that when Harry disappeared. Hermione had never given up hope that he would come home some day. She truly believed in her heart that Harry would be the one who would finally defeat Voldemort when he returned from wherever he was. That was the hope Hermione had held onto, even when she had seen the world fall apart in front of her eyes.
Hermione glanced down at the children in the courtyard of the palace, playing in the snow. The boy whose life she had saved saw her and waved. Hermione smiled and waved back. The adults of the resistance had tried their best to hide their children from the horrors of reality of life. Many of the children lived oblivious of the terrors that went on outside the palace.
"Here Hermione, this is for you," said a voice from behind her. Hermione craned her head around to see Susan handing her a small package.
"What's this?"
"A special Christmas treat I've been able to dig up."
"Oh, is it Christmas?"
"Actually, its what you British call Boxing Day," said Susan. Hermione sighed.
"I lost track of the dates a long time ago," she said. 'Its only been six months since I've last seen Ron or anyone I know. It seems like years ago,' she thought.
Susan glanced over the balcony toward the city. "I know what you're thinking. You wish that you were spending Christmas with your friends and family." Hermione nodded and thought of Harry. She dearly wished that it were with Harry and the Weasleys that she was spending Christmas.
Susan sighed and glanced at the city. "I moved from Pittsburgh to Paris so that I could set up new horizons with my medical fields. Unfortunately, when I had only been there for a month, the 'darkness' took over. I immediately joined the resistance John set up here and helped them out with my medical knowledge. My family back home probably thinks I'm dead." Susan chuckled bitterly before she turned to Hermione. "Do you have family?"
Hermione shook her head. "My parents died when I was fifteen. I have no other relatives."
"That must have been very hard to deal with."
"It was. But Harry helped me recover. He knew what it felt like to have no parents."
Susan nodded in understanding. Hermione had told her about the best friend she was in love with. "Could you tell me about him?" she asked.
"He was the bravest person I ever knew," said Hermione. "He was selfless, kind, always put others before him, and was very mischievious. He somehow always made me laugh, and he always comforted me when I was sad. He was famous around where we were from, but he never asked anything in return. And he never used his fame for his own advantages. I don't think I can remember how many times I've been dragged into his adventures, breaking so many rules in the process. He'd always laugh whenever I scolded him about breaking rules or whenever I had to urge him to do his homework. He always knew how to brighten the day and I love him so much." Hermione closed her eyes and let a few tears slide down her cheeks. Not being with Harry had been a constant ache she had been carrying for the past two years. Not being with Harry seemed more like losing a limb than the loss of her legs had seemed to her.
Susan was amazed by the young girl who was talking about her best friend in such a way. She may only be eighteen, but it was clear to the doctor that she had already discovered her true love. Hermione sniffed and brushed the tears away.
"Every night, I pray that he would come back. I always believe that just his return would change everything and that it would signal an end to these horrible days." She offered Susan a watery smile. "Harry's return is my anchor to hope. So long as I believe that he will come back one day I don't fall into despair."
Susan squeezed Hermione's shoulder and smiled. "Come back inside. You'll catch a cold out here." She walked back inside the palace.
Hermione glanced up at the sky. 'Please,' she prayed. 'Please bring Harry back to us. We need him. I need him. Please.' She let a tear roll down her eye as she turned her wheelchair around and went back into the palace. Little did Hermione know that across the Atlantic, in New York, her prayer had already come true.
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A/N I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! But to make the plot work out, I had to have something horrible happen to Hermione around the beginning of the fic. How could I do that to her? But of course, in the magic world, who knows what's going to happen. So R/ R please.