Touch

Have you ever wondered if there were actually such people as wizards and witches? Or potions and odd-sounding phrases that actually caused things to happen, literally, as fast as a snap of the finger? Sometimes it's fun to think about these things, because you know that they don't exist.

At least that was what Dr. Hermione Granger believed, until she met Harry Potter.

TOUCH by merletto

Chapter ONE

It was early in the morning, and already, the streets were bustling with morning traffic. Long lines of cars were moving fairly slowly, and all the intersections were jammed with cars trying to pass through. Horns un-patiently screamed, and windows rolled down while upset drivers cursed “Bloody hell!” under their breath. All of London seemed to be entangled in its stringy mess, save the rider of a bicycle weaving its way between cars.

Hermione Granger grinned as she sped past the long lines of cars. Though other London-ers hated the morning traffic, she loved it. To her, every morning was an adventure. As soon as she woke up, dressed, packed her backpack, and gulped down her daily glass of milk, she got on her bike and began making her way to work. As mundane as this may sound, it actually wasn't. Each day, the sun shone differently on her skin and the clouds arranged themselves in a new pattern. Each day, she passed by different cars and different arrangements of traffic. Each day, she heard different people curse at the mess in front of them. And each day, she always arrived at work punctually.

She suddenly swerved around the corner and rode past the loading trucks and onto the rack. Then she got off. Finding the key to her lock, she secured her bike against a railing near the loading area. She walked past the maintenance crew and the kitchen cooks as she hummed “God Save Our Queen”. Taking a left turn, she entered the locker room. After reaching her locker, she began changing from her biking gear to surgical wear, finishing it off with a white coat, name tag clipped on the left breast pocket in which pens and a light-pen were sitting, stethoscope around her neck, and clipboard in hand.

She made her way to the emergency ward, smiling at nurses and greeting patients along the way. Though she was a cardio-pulmonary surgeon, as the newest staff physician, she was required to supervise the ER for at two mornings a week. She stopped by the drink machine and bought a decaffeinated coffee. Her hands were full, and she laughed as she raised her hand with the clipboard to wave at a little girl who was in the hospital being treated for pneumonia as she sipped her steaming coffee.

When she arrived at the ward, she swept into the staff area. Placing her board and coffee on the desk, she grabbed the charts the interns had left in her file rack. Someone had bought blueberry bagels to share, which she bit into to hold in her mouth while she juggled clipboard, charts, and coffee and then entering an emptied meeting room.

While munching on her bagel slowly, she began flipping through medical charts of her patients. As she quietly read through them, she sighed in frustration. Here she was, a Cambridge University School of Medicine graduate, staff physician in the Royal Hospital of London, sitting in a half-deteriorated chair, leafing through ER cases that even first year residents could handle! As much as she loved being a doctor, she couldn't help but be annoyed at the head cardiologist, who had, during a staff meeting, deliberately set her up for ER and made sure that she couldn't get out of it. His sexist remarks certainly did not help ease matters, as Hermione was the first female physician to be in the staff in the last ten years, and no wonder, she commented to herself; Dr. David Wright was such a curd!

Interns and residents were beginning to file into the meeting room slowly. Each of them greeted her a good morning. She checked the time on the clock. Two more minutes before the morning meeting would commence. She motioned to the brunette female intern who sat by the door to close the door, as another intern scurried into a seat in the back. She nodded to the chief resident in the room, Jerry Meyer, who took his cue and began passing out the check sheets for the day. He then continued, asking each resident to brief on their cases.

After each briefing, Hermione voiced her comments, either praise that brought a triumphant smile on the resident in charge's face, or constructive criticism, when she questioned the care and reasoning. The interns in the back would scribble furiously on their notepads as residents nodded glumly at their mistakes. When all the residents finished their briefing, she stood up by the white board and began a list of patients that needed to be moved into different wards. Just as she was ready to dismiss her staff and begin rounds, the intercom broke in.

“Dr. Hermione Granger, please head to emergency ward surgery room 1.” Hermione sighed, but did not hesitate to instruct another resident to take her charts and begin the rounds.

***

In an unseen part of London that most people didn't know even existed, there was a world hidden away from the eyes of normal people. In this world, magic existed, and its citizens were wizards and witches, as well as elves, giants, goblins, fairies, dragons and many many more creatures that really existed. As for the wizards and witches, one couldn't tell the difference between them and ordinary people, well, except for the way they dress and maybe their peculiar ways.

One such wizarding place was the Leaky Cauldron, situated between a Muggle, or non-magical, bank and a bookstore, it was tucked away in a small corner and hidden so well that one had to be a wizard or witch in order to find it. Once inside, one finds himself among a group of wizarding people, who were attended by the pub-owner Tom. The door near the bar table leads to a small area, which leads to one of the most frequented wizarding places in all London: Diagon Alley.

In order to enter Diagon Alley, one must know the secret password, a combination of taps on the bricks on the wall that separated the pub from wizarding world. Once the correct combination was tapped in, the walls disperse, just as the Red Sea parted for Moses to lead Israelites pass through, and one was free to enter Diagon Alley, filled with shops and stores that one could only dream of.

Down the street, one could see Gringotts, the wizard's bank that was run by goblins. As one passed by each shop, one could only wonder, what kind of treasures and goodies were hidden there? Ollivanders, potion ingredients, Flourish and Blotts' bookstore of Magical Books, Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, Quality Quidditch, a magical pets store, Eyelops, and lastly, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, a.k.a. the Joke Shop, was run by the Weasley twins, Fred and George. They opened this store with the help of a silent endorser as soon as they had graduated from school. It had first opened its doors about five years ago, and it still was very popular among young and old wizards alike. Many treats that were actually gags entertained as practical jokes, and during holidays the store was packed with young visitors who had depleted their joke supply of canary creams, ton-tongue toffees, and skiving snackboxes.

This day, however, the store was darkly and closed, when it normally was bright and cheery. However, it was not empty. Four men were seated in the back room that the Weasley brothers used as an office, their faces serious, in deep conversation.

Ron Weasley, the younger brother of the twins, sighed in concern as George handed him a mug of tea. He nodded his thanks as his brother sat down beside Remus Lupin. “So they found him?”

Remus nodded, his dark eyes shadowed with concern. “Yes. In a Muggle neighbourhood. Whoever attacked him left him in an alley, apparently thinking that no one would ever find him.”

Ron pounded his fist into the table. “Bastard! When I find whoever hurt my friend……” He covered his face with his hands. “Hell, I don't even know how he is!”

Fred and George glanced at each other as they placed a comforting hand on their brother's shoulder. “No worries, brother. Harry's a strong chap. He'll make it out fine. If he could survive Voldemort back in seventh year, he definitely could survive this.”

Ron nodded, though not totally convinced. “So, where is he now, Remus?”

“In the Royal Hospital of London,” he replied. The three men stared at Remus. “Muggle hospital,” he confirmed their unspoken question. He looked at them confused. “Why? What's wrong with a Muggle hospital?”

Fred shook his head. “Nothing. It's just that Ginny's there. Remember? She gave up medi-wizard training and took up medical school at a Muggle school. She just got into that hospital three months ago.”

Ron smiled for the first time. “That's right! We should go talk to Ginny then!”

George smirked. “She's in pediatrics, remember? And Harry's too big to be in pediatrics.” Ron glared at him as if to tell him to sod off. George just snickered.

“Doesn't matter. I'm going to go see her now.” Ron fished through his robes, searching for his wand. As he was about to disapparate, Remus held out his hand to stop him. “Ron, it's Muggle territory. I don't think you should apparate.”

Ron considered for a moment, before nodding. “Oh yeah, I forgot.”

Fred grinned. “Maybe you should do something about the robes too, you know. Muggles would think you are of the odd sort wearing that.”

Remus smiled, his face looking much younger actually was. “Well, I should go find Sirius. He is worried sick.” With a pop, he disappeared.

Ron followed him a second later.

The twins looked at each other as they began to clear away half-empty mugs.

“So, Gred, what do you think is going to happen?”

Fred pretended to be pondering profoundly. “Oh, maybe some nurse will think our Ronnie-kins is a sick child and stick some of those Muggle needles into his arse, Feorge.”

George snickered. “With Harry out like that? You didn't, did you?”

Fred grinned. “I didn't. But you did, didn't you?”

As George began dumping tea from the mugs into the sink, he took out a piece of wrapping paper from his pocket and tossed it to Fred. The curves of Fred's lips twitched wickedly. Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Purpura Powder.**

***

Hermione looked up from the surgery table in which her patient, now covered with green surgical clothes, except in the thoracic area. The man was shot three times; two bullets were lodged in the back, and one in the chest. Fortunately, the bullet did not penetrate deeper than the lower end of the latissimus dorsi muscles, entering partly into the more intrinsic back muscles, but not deep enough to enter the abdominal cavity from behind. The third one, however, must have been shot in the front, barely grazing the heart, but had lodged itself in the lower end of his left lung. Hermione's heart had stopped after viewing the X-rays that she had ordered as soon as the man was brought into the surgery room.

As Nurse Heather Wheatley helped her dress for the surgery, she had found herself gazing at the man. He had a clear complexion, his face was tanned enough to have a ruggish look, but light enough to reflect a gentle spirit. And his hair, though unkempt, appeared silky and shiny, and she was tempted to run her fingers through them. Somehow the man looked familiar, though she couldn't put her finger on when and where she may have seen him before.

While she and the attending surgeons were waiting for the X-rays, she began a physical assessment, or, well, rather tried to. The nurses had already undressed and sterilized the man. She ordered two of the residents to move him into a sitting position. She noticed the bullet wounds in the back, clogged with dried blood. Those will be first to go, she had stated to the other residents. Then she had him lay down again and checked the chest wound. He had quite the body, she noted inwardly, slightly blushing. His muscles were firm, and his abdomen was flat and strong, with six-packs visible. She quickly blotted the urge to touch him, as she turned her concentration back on the wound. It was deeper than she thought. Jerry had checked his vital stats. Normal, but on the lower end, she thought. Breathing was difficult, probably from blood in his lung. She had just asked Jerry to set up a tracheal tube when the radiologist came in with the x-rays. After clipping them onto the light-board, she quickly examined and assessed the location of the bullet. Then they were ready to begin.

Three hours had passed already, since they had begun surgery. Jerry had removed the bullets from his back, cleaned out the dried blood around it, and patched it up nicely. Hermione had complimented on his work, which brought a pleased smile on his face. Then she had taken over on the bullet in the chest. She carefully slit the wound open with a scalpel, cutting through skin, fascia, and muscle. When she reached the pleura, she carefully palpitated the area. The bullet was there, but he was suffering from blood filling up the pleural cavity. She asked another resident to insert a tube to filter the blood. The resident was not very experienced with intubation, but he succeeded thanks to her meticulous instructions. They waited for blood to flow into a flask. She decided to continue with the surgery. After finding the bullet, she carefully removed it. His lung had stopped bleeding profusely, perhaps having been clogged up after being wounded so long. She carefully cleaned the area, checked if all equipments were there, and instructed a third resident to sew up the wound, in neat, small stitches. As a nurse helped to remove her surgical robes, another assistant hit the stereo and it began playing a jazzy tune.

She smiled to herself, relieved that the surgery was successful as she untied her surgical mask. Across the hall, another surgeon, Dr. Charles Jourdan, gave her a thumbs-up sign, which she returned with a grin. She was about to leave and clean up when the stereo stopped playing and a nurse came calling her name, “Dr. Granger! Dr. Granger!”

Hermione's heart began to pound profusely. She quickly retied her mask on as she asked Jerry, “What happened?” as she glanced at the monitors that were dropping to zero.

Jerry looked at her anxiously. “His blood pressure dropped, and his pulse is gone. Breathing lapsed….”

Hermione did not let him continue as she pushed him aside and began to perform CPR. One, two, three ….fifteen. She pulled his head back and covered his mouth with hers as she gave him a full breath. Nothing. Again. Nothing. “Paddles!” she shouted. Jerry stumbled away from the table as another resident handed him the paddles. Hermione grabbed them as she placed them on his chest. “Okay. Go.” Nothing. “Up to 100!” Still nothing. Oh, God, please. Don't let him die! Not him! I don't even know his name! her heart cried. They continued with the paddles, until maximum voltage that the human heart could take was reached.

She dropped the paddles as she fell to her knees beside him, holding onto his hand. Please, start beating. Breathe! I can't bear to see you die like this. She felt tears slide off her cheeks and into their hands that were meshed tightly together. And a moment later, she heard the ECG monitor beginning to beep normally again.

----------------

**Purpura is defined as “any of several hemorrhagic states characterized by patches of purplish discoloration resulting from extravasation of blood into the skin and mucous membranes” (Webster's Medical Dictionary). I had originally thought of “throat searing tea” but I think having purple spots on Ron's body (caused by magical manifestation, not clinical) would be funnier. Okay, my poor attempt at humor. So shoot me.

What's the difference between chest tubes and tracheal tubes? Well, each intubation has a different purpose. A chest tube is usually inserted between the 3^rd and 4^th rib on the side to relieve pressure within the pleural cavity of the lung that may be caused by gas, blood, or water trapped inside. A tracheal tube is the kind of intubation that is used during full-body anesthesia, to ensure that the patient has a clear airway for breathing and to allow easier access for injection of oral medicine.

That's it for the first chapter. How was it? Okay, the surgical scene was a bit unreal. That's because I don't really know much about what happens. And I tried to make the wounds as realistic as possible.

Since I wanted a trailer before I started the story, I didn't have room for disclaimers and AN's. So here goes. This is an alternate universe. It's an H/Hr ship, and the other characters, well, while some will be the same, the others will be OoC. The plot itself is adapted from the movie City of Angels. Anyhow, please read and review. Any constructive comments will definitely help and be appreciated!

Standard disclaimers apply. And many thanks to Szaranea for beta reading. She was sick, but she still had this chapter read and edited in two days. Cheers to you and hope you get well soon.

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TOUCH by merletto

Chapter TWO

“The patient had a sudden drop of blood pressure, and his pulse was gone for more than one minute, and you're saying that you have no idea as to how his heart began beating on its own again?” Dr. David Wright narrowed his eyes at Hermione as she sat before a panel of staff physicians.

Two days had passed since the surgery, and a panel was called to critique the surgery. They had been in the meeting room since early morning, and Hermione had answered all questions as directly as possible.

She didn't know what exactly had happened herself. The entire scene had haunted her an entire night, yet she could not quite understand how the man's heart, after it had stopped beating suddenly began to beat as if nothing had happened. And all she could think of was how she loved the feel of his hand in hers.

She held onto his hand as she dropped to her knees, tears trickling off her cheeks. “Please, start beating! Breathe! I can't stand to see you like this!” her heart cried silently. She could feel the surprised gazes from everyone present in the room, but she didn't care at the moment. All she knew was that she wanted this man to live, and she prayed, cried in her heart that a miracle or something magical would happen.

After a moment, she heard the ECK monitor beginning to beep again.

She looked up. The man's chest was beginning to rise and drop with each breath. Without dropping his hand, she stood up and checked his stats. Miraculously, they were slowly climbing back to normal levels. She murmured in relief and wiped her tears. Then she turned to her chief resident and gave him a thumbs-up sign. The entire room soon burst into cheers and loud whoops..

But she was still crying, and that confused her. Why was she feeling this emotional towards a complete stranger? She was still holding onto his hand tightly, but this time, she felt a tingle wriggling down her spine. She had felt a slight movement in his hand.

“Dr. Granger?” the voice of the head of the department of surgery, Dr. Wilbur Carlton startled her from her reminiscing. She shook her head before finding her voice.

“Sorry.” She coughed before continuing. “As was written in my report, the patient had suffered much blood loss even before entering surgery. We did our best to prevent him from losing any more blood, and we were quite successful. But the wound itself was lodged at his lung. There was nothing we could do except removing the bullet and maintaining intubation in case he began to bleed again. The entire process of surgery went smoothly, and we were confident that every precaution was taken. What contributed to him dropping BP and losing pulse, well, I'm afraid I can't tell you because I don't know. As far as I know, we had done nothing wrong.”

Dr. Wright kept his steel cold eyes boring into hers. “Dr. Granger, your chief resident surgeon told us that you held onto the patient's hand and cried. Do I have to remind you that such emotional attachment with a patient is not very favorable??”

Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot, but forced herself to remain calm. “Dr. Wright, I can assure you, that none of this emotional attachment that you refer to occurred at all. Surely there is nothing wrong with praying that a patient survives extensive surgery? After all, we did swear on the Hippocratic oath, didn't we?”

Dr. Wright did not protest, but Hermione knew he was seething inside. She sighed as she thought, another reason for him to hate women doctors. The other doctors meshed their heads close together and whispered. Hermione watched them as she patiently waited for their conclusion. Then Dr. Carlton turned to her and said, “Thank you, Dr. Granger. I believe that we have our questions answered. You may go.”

Hermione nodded as she stood and bowed slightly. She turned to leave, but she had caught the cold glare that Dr. Wright sent her. Don't be so sure you're so lucky, Granger, his eyes seem to say. She smirked and returned with a defiant look.

***

Ron stood in front of the glass doors of the Royal Hospital of London, in a blue polo shirt and khakis. He scratched his arm irritably, cursing under his breath.

After he had left his brothers' store, he had returned to his flat for a shower. An hour later, he noticed a purple spot off the right side of his umbilicus. He didn't give it too much thought and decided that it was just a small bruise. The next day, he noticed that there were a few more spots on his torso. Odd, why am I suddenly getting purple freckles on my chest? He'd shrugged it off again and went on with his day. This morning, however, after he had stepped out of the shower and was dressing in front of his mirror, he screamed. The purple spots had spread allover his body, including his legs, arms, and even his face!

He quickly finished dressing and left his flat. Fred and George had warned him against apparating. After hailing a cab outside his flat building, he told the driver to get to the hospital as fast as he could. During the entire ride, Ron couldn't help but scratch himself all over. These damn spots were unbelievably itchy!

He pushed through the glass doors and asked the receptionist for Dr. Ginny Weasley.*** The receptionist looked at him peculiarly but forwarded him to his sister's office. As he walked pass nurses and doctors in the hallways, he wished he could hide from their incredulous stares.

Ron found Ginny in her office in the pediatrics ward. She was cleaning off her desk, just about ready to leave when he suddenly rushed into her office. He grinned at his sister as she glared back at him. “Hi, Ginny.”

Ginny Weasley dropped her files as she took two big steps toward her brother and landed him a punch on his chest. He winced in pain as she yelled, “Don't you ever dare do that again! Oh my God! What's wrong with your face!!?? ”

Ron rubbed his chest as he yelped, “Bugger, Ginny, can't you be a little more girly with that thing? That bloody hurts! And I bloody can't just walk into the hospital looking like this! I look like ….”

Ginny shrugged as she stooped down to pick up her folders. “So what did they do to you this time?”

Ron snarled as he pulled up the Muggle shirt he was wearing. Ginny failed to suppress a laugh, as she recognized a Weasley prank right before her eyes. Ron rolled his eyes impatiently. “So you knew, didn't you?”

Ginny didn't bother keeping her laughter in any more. “Oh, Ron, you should know by now that you're not supposed to take anything edible from the twins!”

“How did you know it was Fred and George?”

“Well, isn't it obvious? You're always too dense to see their tricks.”

“Oh, sod off already! Gin, help me? I have purple spots all over my body! And they won't come off!!”

Ginny giggled as she walked over to her desk. She placed her things down and began searching through her drawers. She found a small packet and placed it on her desk. “Here. This should help. Just mix with water and down it.”

Ron sighed in relief. “Thanks, Gin. I always thought you were the much better sibling.”

Gin rolled her eyes. “Right.”

Ron took a seat in front of her desk. “Well, I didn't come here for this.”

“Then what are you here for?”

“Harry's here.”

“Here? What's he doing here?” Ginny opened the door, but saw only a few nurses passing by. Disappointed, she closed the door and turned to face Ron again.

Ron smirked. “Not here, Gin. He was hurt. Remus found him in an alley shot a couple of times, but a Muggle ambulance took him away before he could get him to St. Mungo's.”

Ginny nodded. “So he's here. They took him to ER probably.”

“ER?” Ron asked, confused.

“Oh, and you call yourself my brother? EMERGENCY ROOM, you idiot!”

“WHATEVER! JUST SOCK IT! I just want to know if you can find out where he is, so we can take him back to get proper healing.”

“AND HE CAN'T GET THE SAME TREATMENT HERE?”

Ginny glowered over Ron menacingly. Ooh boy, I sure did it again, Ron thought darkly. Never insult the sister on Muggle medicine.

“Come on, Gin, you know what I mean.”

Ginny shook his head. “No, I know exactly what you mean. Look, I don't know where Harry is. I'm in pediatrics remember? And if he's wounded as badly as you say he was, I'm guessing that no one is allowed to see him anyway.” She saw her brother's head drop. “Alright, I'll try to found out where he is, okay?” She turned to her bulletin behind her and flipped through a few hand-outs that were hanging. “Hmm, he was brought in, two days ago?” She traced a sheet with her finger. “Hmm, Hermione was on duty then. Oh! I just talked with her this morning in the locker rooms. Said something about a panel regarding her case with the mysteriously shot man. I bet you anything that that's Harry!”

Ron smiled widely as he tried to hug his sister with a desk in between them. “Thanks, Ginny! That's great! So, where IS he?”

Ginny pushed him away. “I'll see if I can catch her on my rounds. Let you know tonight.” She grabbed her things again as she headed for the door. “Now get out of here before someone sees you!”

Ron grinned as he disapparated.

Ginny sighed as she exited her office. Grabbing the messages that the receptionist had left in her box, she rummaged through each of them. She paused at one such note.

Don't forget tonight.

She angrily wrinkled the paper in her hand. How dare that bastard call her at the hospital and leave messages as if nothing had gone wrong between them! Tonight. It was exactly one whole year since they had met. And within that year they had experienced many joys and disappointments.

Suddenly, she did not feel like personally checking her rounds. Instead, she called out to Claire McLain to take over and she left for the cardiac surgery department.

***

Hermione was clearing the paperwork that had been piling up on her desk for the past week. She groaned inwardly as she thought of the stack of paperwork that would exist when she came back from her discharge for the week. There were so many charts she needed to review and reports to write, and she now did not have the opportunity to finish them before the end of the week.

She was not surprised when Dr. Henry Harding called her to tell her that she was off for the week. In fact, she knew that Wright wanted to replace her off the staff... Though she did not understand the why and wherefore, but she knew that Wright had a displeasure with women, especially women directly on his staff. And she being the number one pick during residency match certainly did nothing to encourage him to like her any more.

When Wright was promoted as director of the department, he made sure that Hermione's life in the hospital was hell for her. While her colleagues who were male and had entered the program after she did were promoted, she was still acting as resident. Had one of the male staff physicians resigned to pursue a doctorate in Harvard, she would have never been promoted to staff. Wright reluctantly gave her the position seeing that there were no other male residents that were familiar with the work enough to be promoted.

She turned to see Charles Jourdan leaning against the doorway to her office, with a coy smile on his face. She tried to smile, but she was too tired and all she could was fall back into her chair as he walked over to her side and held her hand.

“I heard about what happened. Sorry to hear that,” he spoke softly, stroking her hand gently.

Hermione nodded as she tried to pull her hand away so she could distract herself with paperwork. “Doesn't matter. My schedule'll be fairly lax. Maybe work on my cooking or something.”

Charles nodded thoughtfully. “Or maybe I can take a few days off, and we can go somewhere together this weekend, to Grasmere, maybe? You've always said you had wanted to rent a cottage and go away for a few days.”

Hermione shook her head. “I don't think that it's a good time, Charles. I mean, I'm off from the surgery schedule, but look at my desk.”

Charles glanced at her trays nonchalantly. “What about it?”

Hermione groaned. “Please, Charles, can't you see? I have a bothersome load of paperwork to go through. And I'm still working on my thesis, for crying out loud! Ever since Wright got me stuck in ER I had no time to work on it, and I've already put it off for months now.” She stormed away from her desk to the sofa and poured herself a cup of water.

“Just like you have no time for us?” he asked quietly as he followed her.

Hermione stared at him. He still thinks that we have something, doesn't he? “Charles….”

Charles held out his hand to stop her. “Look, I know that things have been weird between us lately. But you and I, we're great together. People look at us together and they know we match. We even know that we're perfect together. Come on, can't you see? We're both doctors, and we both think alike. We're also both workaholics.” He grinned in amusement. “And we match up against each other perfectly as well. I'm a great cook; you don't even know where the switch to your oven is. I'm hardly what you call clean and organized; look at your office! Your books are alphabetized, even categorized!” He took her hands again. “Everyone seems to think that we ought to be together, and so do I. You know how I feel about you, Herm. Please. Please don't say no to me again.”

As Charles gazed deeply at her, searching her eyes for the answer he was looking for, Hermione stared off as she thought of their past. Sure, they had wonderful times together. They had traveled together during their breaks, and they had kissed occasionally. She knew that he was in love with her, but she could hardly label her feelings for him as anything romantic. But he did love her, and he was handsome, smart, sexy, and attentive, caring… maybe she should try to love him.

But she suddenly thought of the man with the black hair and the hand that she held yesterday. What does he have to do with anything? She thought inwardly to herself. She tried to shake off that image, but failed miserably.

Charles seemed to notice her predicament as he dropped her hands. He stood up to leave. “Herm, let me know, okay? I'm not going to pressure you.”

She smiled appreciatively at him and watched him leave. She fell back against the sofa and sighed, just as she heard another knock on her door. It was Ginny Weasley. She motioned for her to come in, and Ginny sat beside her.

“I saw Charles leaving your office. He asked you again?”

Hermione nodded. “I didn't say yes, if that's what you're wondering.”

“I know. He looked dejected. So tell me, Herm, how is it that you can have all the good-looking single male doctors in the entire Royal Hospital ogling after you in a white coat and still have no interest in picking one of them to be your lucky man?”

Hermione laughed. “I could hardly call Charles all the good-looking single doctors in this hospital, Gin. Besides, you know I'm not interested in men like that.”

Ginny smirked. “Really.” She flipped a mug over and began making herself tea. “So, what did Charles want anyway?”

Hermione shrugged. “I don't know. He wants us to go away to Grasmere for the weekend, possibly hinting that he wants us to be more than just…you know?”

“Oh really? You're saying that you two actually have NEVER done it?”

Hermione glared at her friend. “Really, Ginny. We did it many times, and he has sent me to the uttermost, most exhilarating pleasures many times. No, we have never DONE it.”

Ginny grimaced. “Why? He's nice, good-looking, and has such a cute arse to top it off.”

“You know why, Ginny.”

“Yeah, I know.”

The two sat quietly sipping their tea. They looked at each other for two solid minutes before speaking at the same time.

“Draco left a message for me today.”

“I got put off for the week.”

Ginny giggled. “We did it again, Herms!”

Hermione laughed, sincerely for the first time all day. “Yes we did! Well, mine's short and simple. I got laid off for the week after my panel. Wright finally found something to wedge in my reputation as a surgeon as well. Whoopee, my reputation down the drain it goes.”

Ginny placed her hand on her friend's thigh. “The man is a bastard. You and I both know it. And the rest of the female population in this hospital knows it as well. You're the best damn surgeon in the hospital and he's too concern about his own dick to see it.”

“Thanks Gin. I could hardly see why that would be any more appealing to him.” She squeezed her friend's hand. “So what's this about Draco?”

Ginny shook her head. “It's nothing. Tonight is supposed to be our anniversary, but I don't want to see him. After seeing him with that bitch, I just don't know why I can't break it off with him.”

“Maybe because you love him?”

Ginny sighed. “Too much.” She showed Hermione the note. “I guess I shouldn't go, huh? I can already predict what will happen. Draco takes me to the Ritz for a champagne dinner. Then we go for a walk around the gardens. And then he apologizes for his damn stupid affair, and then he'll kiss me senseless and we end up in a room for the night and finish the evening off in bed.”

“Maybe you should hex him.”

Ginny's eyes grew wide. “Hex him? Like with a spell?”

Hermione laughed. “Just kidding. How can you hex him with a spell when magic doesn't exist?”

Ginny grimaced. Hermione was just joking, she knew. “Haha, I know.” But the mention of magic reminded of her brother's visit earlier. “Oh, Hermione, what happened to that patient of yours?”

Hermione's eyes lit up. “Oh yes! He's in a private room now, though he's still unconscious.” She looked at Ginny plaintively. “You know, it's strange. His heart stopped beating. He wasn't responding to CPR or the paddles. But when I grabbed his hand, I sort of felt a kind of energy within me that, well, transferred to him.” She winced. “No, it couldn't be. There's no way that could have happened. I must be losing it.”

Ginny's eyebrow lifted in curiosity. “Well, what did it feel like?”

Hermione peered at Ginny peculiarly. “What did what feel like?”

Ginny shrugged. “You know, that `energy' you said you felt.”

Hermione stood up and began slowly pacing around the office as she recalled the day of the surgery. Her forehead creased slightly. “Well,” she began, “I don't know. It's very peculiar, you know. It was very brief, I remember. When I held onto his hand, I felt a warm tingle that traveled from my heart, through my arm and into his.” She shook her head violently in frustration. “This is outrageous! How can I even validate something as preposterous as this?”

Ginny went to her friend and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Calm down, Hermione.” She pulled her friend back to the sofa. “Well, I don't think it's preposterous Hermione. It sounded like magic to me.”

“Magic, huh?” Hermione scoffed. “Really, Ginny,” she eyed her friend skeptically. “How can you believe something like that?” She raised her hands in the air in frustration. “You know, I'm not really comfortable talking about this. Let's just drop it, all right?”

Ginny sighed disappointingly. “All right.”

Hermione picked up her mug of tea again. “So what did you want to know about our mysterious stranger?”

Ginny shrugged. “My brother's friend was shot two days ago and he heard that he may have been brought here. So he asked me to find out. You were on ER that time.”

Hermione nodded. “I see. Well, we don't know who he is. There wasn't any identification on him.”

“Do you think my brother can go see him?”

“Sorry. Not until he regains consciousness.”

Ginny chewed on her lower lip as she nodded. “I understand. Tell me when he wakes up?”

“Sure.” Hermione glanced at her watch. “Oh, I have to go. Rounds check.” She smiled apologetically at her friend. “Sorry Gin.”

Ginny stood up and headed toward the door. “No, it's okay.” She turned around. “So, since I'm not going on my anniversary date, what, should we do a girls' night out again?”

Hermione shook her head. “Sorry. Even though I'm laid off my surgery schedule, I still have night shift.”

“Oh well.”

Hermione slowly walked toward the door, but turned back again to face Ginny. “Oh, Gin? What was your brother's friend's name?”

Ginny, who was following her out the door, stopped in her steps. “Harry Potter.”

***

Though she had told Ginny that she had rounds, the truth was, she was laid off those as well. Instead, she headed off to the IC ward. She greeted the residents behind the counter and let herself into the private room quietly. A nurse was checking his stats. Hermione waited patiently for the nurse to finish and instructed her to leave them alone for a while. The nurse nodded and left quietly.

Hermione pulled a chair by the bed. She kept her hand folded in her lap. Her eyes were fixed on his face. She wondered about the man. She thought about his name. Maybe he was that friend of Ginny's brother. So, he's not totally a stranger, now that she knew his name, Harry Potter. Hermione ran the name through her mind. Yes, he did look like a Harry.

But what about him? Did he have a family? Was he married? She glanced at his left hand that was resting by his side. No ring, but he probably had many girlfriends, she thought sourly. She didn't want to admit it, but the man was extremely good-looking. What color were his eyes? With his raven black hair, he would look astounding with blue or even green eyes. A strand of hair fell over his face. She hesitantly brushed it back, only to see a light scar visible on his forehead. Lightning shape? She thought. That was odd. She wondered about it. What was it about this scar that looked familiar? Or did she only think about in her dreams?

Now that she was thinking about dreams, she recalled the night before the surgery a strange dream that woke her up in the middle of the night. She was walking in the middle of what looked like a game pitch, and there were stands built really high surrounding the entire field of green. The clothes that she was wearing were peculiar and shapeless, very unlike the style she usually wore. She was staring up in the sky, watching a flying object, no, make that a man flying on the broom. He dropped altitude and began flying in circles around her before slowing down to a stop. He held out his hand toward her, his green eyes dancing with pleasure as he helped her sit in front of him. Then he kicked off the ground and sped them up in the sky in rocket speed. She remembered laughing and giggling like a silly schoolgirl. When they reached the clouds, he slowed down and hovered in the sky. He turned her face towards him with one hand. She blushed under his gaze, but did not hesitate to brush back the hair that kept falling over his beautiful eyes. He slowly inched his face closer to her for a kiss. Just as their lips were about to meet, they started falling at break-neck speed, and she woke up.

Hermione gazed at those lips. They were full and looked very kissable. She wanted to feel them, to see if they were as soft as she had imagined. She leaned closer to his face. He was beautiful, she thought, and unable to resist the urge, she closed her eyes and kissed him.

--------------------------------

And now for author notes .

First of all, standard disclaimers apply. Most of the characters belong to JK Rowling. The others are my own creation. This is an alternate universe fiction based on the movie City of Angels.

Second of all, thank you, Szaranea, for taking the time to beta. I really appreciate you doing this.

Thirdly, thank you for leaving reviews for me! I was greatly encouraged by all of the positive comments and that you loved Chapter One!

To Nerdypurdy, Missy, and Caroline Delacour: No. I do not watch ER. I've only seen the show once, but I'm pleased to say that the show was written by two Harvard Medical School graduates. I'm also not a doctor, but hopefully will be if I successfully finish my 7-year medical program.

To CreepieSusie: Yes, Hermione is a witch; however, she is not aware that she is one. Why she doesn't know will come later in the story.

To Ren, Nerdypurdy (again :P), Caroline once more, and Chariot: Well, Hermione's not going to die for sure. That's all I' m going to say for now.

Lastly, I'm sorry for not updating any sooner. With all my coursework, it takes a while to write and revise before sending it to my beta, who's swamped with studies as well.

Oh, yes, to clarify the surgery scene. :P Hermione wasn't checking out Harry on the operating table. She just couldn't help it :P The guy's hot! At least to my feeble imagination.

One more clarification: Ginny Weasley is a doctor. I originally planned for her to be a nurse, but she wouldn't have as much liberty to chat with Hermione when needed. So, just in case chapter one doesn't point that out, just to clear things up.

Anyhow, hope you all enjoy TOUCH Chapter TWO as well, and please look forward to Chapter THREE, coming soon.

~merletto

Hello everyone! I'm sorry to disappoint those who have enjoyed reading Touch. It's been a pretty hectic month, with medical classes and midterms that just never end and a plethora of unfinished business. And finals are looming as well. Just to let you know, even though Chapter Three is in the works, I probably will not be updating within the month. But it will be out. And much lengthier, I promise.

Thanks again for reading and reviewing. Hope to see you soon.

Sincerely,

merletto

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

TOUCH

Chapter THREE

Harry felt a sting of pain coming from his chest and back as he woke up. He slowly opened one eye, and then the other and sighed with relief, that he was in his own room and not in the hospital any more. Three days ago he had still been in hospital, until the tall, shrewd-looking doctor had told him to call his family and get him out of there. Ron and Sirius had come almost immediately and transported him back home. Sirius decided to temporarily move into the flat that he shared with Ron, at least until Harry was able to get back onto his own feet. So, all the while Harry had been resting in his room, his godfather and best friend were parading around the house in tiny aprons, helping him to be comfortable, and attempting to feed him the concoction they both came up with in the kitchen. One glimpse of what Ron called chicken soup was enough to make Harry hurl, but he saw the anxious look on his best friend's face, and kept all doubts to himself, and forced himself to take a sip, which, to his relief, actually tasted good.

Sirius gently knocked on the door and came in with a tray in his hands. He smiled at Harry, and carefully set the tray on top of Harry's nightstand. After pulling the curtains to allow sunlight into Harry's room, he pulled a chair up to Harry's bed and sat down.

“Thanks, Sirius,” Harry said. “You didn't have to stay in from work for me.”

Sirius shrugged. “It's no big deal. You're my godson. I'm supposed to do these kinds of things.”

“Thanks, anyhow.” Harry continued to eat.

“I've talked with Ginny last night. About your doctor.”

Harry nodded as he continued sipping on soup.

“Ginny isn't too sure. She's only said that Dr. Granger isn't too keen on magic. Has a sort of, distaste for it, she said. She may be just a Muggle, Harry.”

Harry placed his spoon back on the tray and pushed it back. “No, I'm telling you, Sirius. She's magical. I felt it that day.”

“You were knocked out cold, Harry!” Sirius exclaimed. “You weren't supposed to feel anything.”

Harry stared at his godfather, his eyes bright yet stubborn. “I felt it. That magical warmth was there, Sirius.” He turned his head and focused his eyes on a picture that stood on top of his drawers. It was of his parents before they had died. “Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can feel them near me.”

Sirius followed his gaze to the picture. His heart softened as he whispered, “James and Lily?”

Harry nodded. “Even though it's been almost thirty years, I could still recall Mum cradling me, rocking me to sleep. And Dad holding me while flying on a broomstick. Those feelings, they're innate now. You can't make them go away.”

“And this has to do with the doctor?”

“She's a witch, Sirius. She just has to be. None of those other doctors could explain why my heart went into cardiac arrest, and five minutes later, it was resuscitated miraculously. I think I know enough Muggle medicine to know that that's impossible.” Harry watched Sirius' eyes grow wide with shock. “And you know what the most incredible thing was?”

Sirius shook his head.

“It came from her. That touch. I heard her voice, and I felt her tears. That's why I'm alive.”

**************************

“What? You discharged him from the hospital?”

Hermione's voice could be heard throughout the fifth floor of the Royal Hospital in London. The orderlies and nurses that walked passed Dr. Wright's office chose to ignore the heated conversation behind the closed doors and hurried to their next task.

Inside the office, Dr. Wright was playing with his Mont Blanc fountain pen nonchalantly as Hermione paced back and forth in front of his desk, her arms flinging about in frustration. One glimpse of her face showed that she was angered, no, incensed, ready to tear apart anything that came into her grasps.

“He was my patient, David. He nearly died from his wounds! How could you just let him leave without even notifying me, HIS PHYSICIAN?” Hermione glared at her superior.

Wright shrugged his shoulders. “He was fine. Jerry was in charge of him while you were on sabbatical. He woke up the day after you left. Jerry thought that he was well enough, he brought the case to me, and I agreed with him.”

“I was on sabbatical. How amusing. Surely you remember that you forced a break on me!” she snarled at him. “This was an ER case, David, and I am Jerry's superior. Surely I have the final say on this decision.”

“And let me remind you that ER or not, you are my subordinate, and your attitude is unbecoming, Dr. Granger.” He uncapped his fountain pen and signed the papers in front of him. “You know, I do have other work to do, unlike some.”

Hermione stopped her pacing and stared straight at him. He held the same annoyed look back at her. She opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. Instead, she turned around and stormed out of his office.

Instead of returning to her office on the other side of the floor, she turned to the emergency exit. She ran down the flight of stairs to Ginny's office in the third floor. Ginny's secretary tried to stop her, but Hermione just ignored her and let herself into the office.

Ginny was sitting at her desk, typing up new orders. She was surprised to see Hermione storm into her office. She moved toward Hermione, who was crying, and wrapped her arms around her. Hermione finally broke down and let her tears flood her face.

“Herms, what's wrong?” Ginny asked, concerned.

Hermione sniffled as she tried to wipe her tears. “That intolerable, insufferable, domineering prat! He thinks he could step over my cases and take jurisdiction like he is lord over the place!”

“What did Wright do this time?” She pulled Hermione down to the sofa and pulled a sheet of tissue out of the box.

Hermione gratefully received the tissue that Ginny offered. “Well, I was off for a week. My patient woke up during my leave, and apparently, Wright told my resident staff that I was discharged of my cases as well. And without notifying me, he signed the discharge papers for my patient and I only just found out from Jerry today!”

Ginny patted Hermione's shoulder gently. “Oh, Hermione, you should know better than I do. Wright has been trying to make your life miserable ever since you came to this hospital. Oh, don't give me that look. Even though I've not been here as long as you have, the other staff physicians have told me. Besides, Harry's fine. I just saw him the other day.”

Hermione blinked her eyes slowly. “Harry? So he really was Harry, your brother's friend Harry?”

Ginny nodded. “Yes, he was. My brother was relieved that it was him. I went over to see them. Harry's been sleeping much, but other than that, he looks fine.”

Hermione sighed in relief. “I'm glad to hear that, but as his physician, I would still like to see for myself.”

“You sure you just want to check his wounds? Or is there something that you're not telling me, Dr. Granger?” Ginny teased.

“Oh, bugger off, Ginny!” But Hermione's cheeks were flushed. “Well, since you know Mr. Potter, could you tell him to stop by my office sometime for a post check-up? Just to be sure that those stitches could be removed.”

“Sure, no problem. I'll Floo over tonight to tell him.”

“Floo?” Hermione eyed Ginny strangely.

Ginny's eyes widened in alarm. “Oops! I meant I'll drive over their flat. Silly me!”

Hermione still looked dubious, but she decided to shrug it off. “Good.” She wiped her face dry with the tissue. “So, do I still look like I had just cried my eyes out?”

Ginny shook her head. “Yes, you do, but I'm sure no one would mind, especially not hunky Dr. Charles.” She laughed as Hermione smacked her thigh. “He'll still think that Dr. Granger is undeniably the most gorgeous woman in a white coat, even though her eyes are bloody red and puffy.”

Hermione smiled. “And to think that I finally found a male-repellant!” She stood up and smoothed her pants. “Thanks for the pep talk, Gin. I should get back to work.”

“No problem! Just buy me dinner and we're even.”

“Keep wishing!” Hermione turned her head back as she opened the door. “See you at seven. Same place.”

Ginny chuckled softly as she turned her attention back to work.

***

Sirius couldn't help but look worried. He didn't know why he had agreed to this, but one pleading look from his godson was enough for him to cave in. After Ron had left for work, he covered himself with Harry's Invisibility Cloak, Apparated to the hospital, checked the rotational charts in the cardio-thoracic room, and Disapparated. Harry was pleased with Sirius' success, and had returned to his bed, parchment and quills in hand, formulating a plan.

“Sirius?” he heard his godson call him from his room.

Sirius walked over, sticking his head through the door. “Yes, Harry?”

“Did you say that she's on schedule this afternoon?”

Sirius nodded. “I think so. Surgery room three, a bypass, around two in the afternoon.”

Harry chewed the nib of his quill, unaware of ink spilling over his lip. Sirius wanted to laugh and tell Harry, but he was so deep in thought that it probably wasn't a good idea.

“Okay. I'm going to go today then.”

Sirius nearly tripped over. “What? But you're still…. You're still not completely healed!”

Harry snorted. “I've had worse, Sirius. Besides, it's just one trip only. I have to see for myself.” He smirked at Sirius' concerned look. “Don't tell me you don't approve. You'd do it too if you were in my position.”

Sirius suddenly grinned. “Yes, you are right. Your father would too. Okay, Harry. You go. But be sure to be back before Ron does. Otherwise he'll hang me on a short noose.”

Harry laughed. “You're a marauder. Think of something then.” He tossed the quill and parchments aside and grabbed the Invisibility Cloak that Sirius had left on his desk. “I'll see you in a few hours then.”

Sirius nodded. “Be careful. And don't do anything stupid, Harry.”

Harry nodded and slipped the cloak over his head.

***

Hermione allowed the nurse to dress her in surgical robes. She glanced around the room, where the rest of her staff were preparing for the bypass. The patient was a Caucasian male, mid-forties, suffered from heavy chest pains, and had been diagnosed with clogged arteries. She mentally reviewed the procedure as she scrubbed her hands down. Nurse Wheatley handed her a mask, and as she raised her arms behind her head to tie it, an odd sensation arose in her heart, as if something moved out of her arm's way. She turned around to check, but no one was standing behind her. Mentally scolding herself for being so jumpy, she took in a deep breath and walked over to the operating table.

She asked one of the residents to brief the case, and she nodded after each of his statements. The patient had already been administered anesthesia, and he was covered almost completely by surgical blankets Turning to her assistants, she held out her hand as they began handing her instruments to begin the procedure.

***

Harry stood by the electro-cardiogram monitor, behind the chief resident and in a position in which he could watch Dr. Granger work on the patient, with Invisibility Cloak over his head. Through the transparent silky folds of the cloak, he witnessed the entire scene, feeling a little nauseated a few times at the sight of blood. The room was mostly silent, except for the ECG monitor beeping at the patient's heart beat and Dr. Granger giving orders.

He had always wondered what surgery was like. For the better part of his life, he had never had to experience being under a knife, especially for the number of scrapes and accidents he had gotten himself into. Recalling his second year at Hogwarts, when he had broken his arm only to have been de-boned by Gilderoy Lockhart, he reminded himself how fortunate he was that Madam Pomfrey was a very capable Healer and had re-grown his bones without much trouble at all. Magical medicine was very convenient, he realized, and he felt a renewed appreciation for Muggle doctors.

Dr. Granger kept a poker face throughout the entire surgery. Harry could see the beads of sweat that were falling from her forehead, but she had paid no heed to them and continued working. Once in a while, she would look up to check the ECG monitor, and Harry found himself lost in those hazel brown orbs of hers, as if she was staring at him. Then she would look back down as her delicate fingers expertly maneuvered the tools. When she had removed a vessel from the patient's left leg, she ordered a resident to sew the incision on the thigh as she carefully cut through the skin on the patient's chest. Harry felt another spell of nausea once again but continued to hold his ground as he watched her work.

Hours had passed already, and Harry could feel his leg muscles ache and the pain in his back from standing for so long. He checked his watch for the time and was beginning to panic when he realized that Ron would be home in about an hour. The surgery took longer than he had thought it would, and as much as he was reluctant to go, he knew he had to slip out before the operating room became hectic with clean-up.

“Okay, on three for release. One, two, three,” Dr. Granger spoke in a nervous voice. Harry turned back again to watch her face as she stared at the monitor once again. He could see her hold her breath, and a few seconds later, she let out a sigh and behind the green mask, he swore he could see a small grin of pride. The nurse chuckled as she turned on the radio and helped the doctor remove the soiled robes. Harry decided that this may be a good chance to leave.

However, he didn't. Suddenly, the steady beating from the ECG monitor began racing in a faster pace. An emergency alert went off and the nurse called Dr. Granger back into the surgery room. The look of pleasure on her face was wiped off and replaced with a worried look as she watched the peaks on the monitor become smaller and smaller. When the beeping sound went zero, she cried, “CPR!”

Harry felt the anxious air around him as he moved out of the residents' way. His heart tightened with terror as he watched Dr. Granger pushed the patient's chest. When manual resuscitation failed, she ordered paddles, which failed as well. The nurse had brought back the surgical tools and she began cutting through the stitches that had been sewn on after the bypass. Her eyes were fixed on him as she held the patient's heart in her hands and gently massaged it. From where he was standing, he could hear her whisper, “Come on, come on, mister. Please, beat for me. Come on. Fight for it.”

Harry knew that she was actually seeing past him, but the fervor in her eyes shocked him. He was awestruck at the brightness of her eyes, the vivacity in them, and the pain that swept through her face as she continued to massage, only to fail to revive the patient's heart. One minute passed, two minutes were gone, and she continued to massage. He saw the chief resident place an arm on her shoulder, telling her to stop. She replaced the heart and turned to leave.

Harry glanced at his watch again. He should go home, but he couldn't leave her like this. Carefully stepping his way around the room, he followed her quietly out to the escape exit, slowly walking up the stairs behind her. When he found her, she was sitting on a step, hands covering her face, tears spilling around them.

“What could have gone wrong? I followed the books exactly. I should have massaged earlier and faster. The bypass was successful. What could have caused this? Why do I suddenly feel that I'm so powerless? I'm supposed to save lives not let them slip out of my hands. What am I going to do? I feel so alone now.” she sobbed through her tears.

Harry wished that he could put his arms around her and hold her, but all he did was sit beside her, hoping that she could be comforted by his unknown presence.

Author's Notes:

I finished chapter three during a break from studying, and fortunately, my beta Anna was able to have it finished in a day. Just two more weeks of hell and I'll be going home and hopefully will have more time to devote to finishing up Touch.

Well, I'll just leave things like this. Hope you enjoy and please review. Thank you very much!

~merletto

Chapter FOUR

Hermione dropped her bag onto the couch as soon as she stepped into her small flat in Covent Gardens. She dragged herself to the bathroom and began to fill the tub with warm water after adding bath salts and oil. After lighting up some scented candles in the room and turning on the stereo in her bedroom, she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the bathtub, immersing herself in the comforting and relaxing warmth.

Naturally, her superiors were aware of the failure of the surgery, and she had to write a report. David Wright had been smirking the entire time while she'd stood in his office along with the residents that had been with her during the surgery retelling the entire procedure. She had calmed herself down already, though she could still feel the pang of disappointment in herself. In another three days, she would be waiting to hear from the panel that would review her case, and if David Wright had any control at all, he would be pulling all of his strings to make her life miserable again. It didn't matter anymore that she was the most brilliant student at Cambridge a University, nor was it anyone's concern that she had graduated summa cum laude with the highest honors and the most illustrious recommendations. She'd failed. She had lost a patient on the table. And that was enough to condemn her.

But not right now. As she basked in the warmth of the water, she felt her worries melt away along with the tension in her muscles, and her mind traveled onto other thoughts. Almost absent-mindedly, she thought of the case with Mr. Harry Potter. It was curious to her, that, after he was in cardiac arrest, he was able to come back to life, literally, after a few minutes' time. Most curious indeed was that….wait, she'd touched him first, that warmth surrounded her hand that clasped onto his, and he came back. “What kind of phenomenon was this?” she thought. “Why did it not happen with Mr. Joel?”

“Maybe Ginny's right….maybe it was indeed magic,” one part of herself said.

“But that's not possible,” her logical self refuted. “Magic, supernatural powers indeed. And soon you'll be telling us that we can fly on broomsticks and say hocus pocus and expect toads and frogs to be jumping out of nowhere.”

“How else would you describe that feeling? I could hardly say it felt evil. Only, it felt warm, and it felt right, and I felt that almost everything stopped at that moment, and it was …meant to be.”

“And now you're saying this was predestined. The horoscopes would be upheld the truth, and the entire world would be cacked up because you believe in predestination “

“Then how else would you explain it?”

Both evils of herself paused. Hermione sighed as she closed her eyes. “Perhaps only Mr. Potter could tell me what I want to know, need to know, about the truth of that day.”

“Yes, you do that. And he'll think you're mental.”

“Wonderful.” She groaned as she pulled herself out of the tub.

~~~~~~~~~

When Harry had returned back to the flat, Sirius was sitting on the couch, looking rather squeamish and small, with an uneasy look on his face. Harry wondered at the strange behaviour of his godfather, but he was relieved to see him.

“Sirius, oh god. It was unbelievable. She was unbelievable! I don't know where to start!” he exclaimed as he hung up his coat.

“You can start by telling me where the hell you've been this entire time!” a voice from the kitchen rorared.

Harry winced. “Ooh boy,” he said in a small voice.

Ron Weasley stormed into the living room, hands on his hips that was adorned with a small apron. His six-foot-five-inch-tall form towered over Harry's own six-foot frame as he bullied Harry onto the couch next Sirius.

“So where were you today? Shagging with some woman while you're supposed to be in bed, resting?” Ron asked sarcastically.

Harry shook his head. “Oh, no, Ron! You've got it wrong! I wasn't out meeting strange women and shagging them. I was at the hospital!”

Ron snorted. “You were at the hospital. How nice! What were you doing there? Are you and my sister…. And why's Sirius got that guilty look on his face? You were doing something you weren't supposde to, weren't you, Harry Potter?!”

Harry couldn't believe it. How could Ron think that he and Ginny…. There was no way! Not after meeting that amazing woman who had saved his life. He knew for sure that there wouldn't ever be anyone else for him…

“Ron, you got it all wrong. Just listen to me, please. And calm yourself down. Don't act like Fred and George set a tarantula on you!” Harry said, trying to placate his friend.

Ron didn't look the least bit truffled, but he agreed as he sat down on a chair opposite of the two victims.

Harry took a deep breath as he continued. “I was at the hospital, really. But not to meet Ginny for a secret rendezvous in her office. I just wanted to see Dr. Granger, to find out what she's like.” He told Ron about the surgery, about his suspicions of Hermione. Then he relayed the entire story, of how he had Sirius find out Dr. Granger's surgery schedule, and how he had sneaked into the operating room underneath his cloak. He left out the details with Dr. Granger's tears in the emergency exit, and of the desire to comfort her that he had felt at that time, or the fact that his desire to touch her hadn't waned.

The three of them remained silent for a few minutes. Harry wondered if he should say anything. The ticking of the clock that rested on the mantel of the fireplace sounded ominous at this point, and he wasn't sure if Ron had bought his story, even though it was the truth.

Fortunately, Sirius decided to break the silence. “I believe him, Ron. And you shouldn't get your knickers in a twist over this. Whether or not the doctor knows it, she might be a witch, a powerful witch, in fact, according to Harry's story.”

Ron glared at Sirius. “I'm not saying I don't believe Harry. He shouldn't be skirting around underneath the invisibility cloak just to confirm a hunch of his. And did you find your answer?”

Harry shook his head dejectedly. “No.” But there was something else…… not that I'd say anything at this moment. “Look, Ron, I didn't intend to stay out this long. And I'm fine! Nothing's the matter with me now. If it makes you happy, I'll go straight to bed and you can feed me all the goo you want.”

Ron forced himself to look stern even though Harry could see his eyes smiling. “Just don't go disappear again on me, mate. You did it once and we almost lost you.”

Harry's lips curled slightly. “I know. I'm sorry.”

“Now go to your room and lie down!” Ron ordered as he stood up.

Harry laughed. “Yes, Mum!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry placed his pad down as he watched Sirius enter the room and close the door behind him. He recapped his pen while Sirius sat down beside him.

“There was more to your visit wasn't there, Harry?” Sirius asked, looking him straight in the eye.

Harry shrugged as he replied, “Can't hide it from you, can I?”

Sirius grinned. “I'm your godfather. I'm supposed to catch these things. So… care to share?”

Harry traced his thoughts for a moment. Where would he begin? His emotions were in a pool, conglomerated together, and there weren't any strings sticking out for him to pull. “I don't know, Sirius. It's rather….confusing.”

“She must have been special somehow, wasn't she?”

His green eyes widened with surprise. “How …”

The older man laughed brilliantly. “I recognized the look, Harry. I saw it on your father's face many years ago, when he first met your mother. That same dumbstruck look when he talked about her.”

“But it's odd, Sirius. I went down to see for myself if she truly was a witch. Not only did I not content myself with the truth, I am left with feelings I don't even know that even existed!

“The way she looked at me! Oh, she didn't know I was there, of course, with me being under the cloak, but how can anyone look into those eyes and not lose onself? In that one instant, I felt I was pulled to see what she was seeing, to feel what she was feeling. Those eyes, filled with raw emotions and life… I couldn't help myself but drown in those deep pools of brown.

“She lost the patient, Sirius, and though she didn't know it, I was there to listen to her cries. That moment, when I sat next to her, hoping to be of a little comfort to her, I wanted to hold her in my arms and be the placid presence that she needed. Tell me, Sirius, what is this I'm feeling? Why is it so …..overbearing and heavy?”

Sirius patted Harry's knee sympathetically. “I can't tell you that, son. Though I wish I could. But it's for you to find out.”

“I know. I'm horrible at that, you know.”

“Maybe you should see her again? This time, in person.”

“How could I do that? I can't just suddenly burst into her office and say, `Voila!', can I?” Harry responded sarcastically.

Sirius laughed. Harry loved listening to his godfather's laughter. “No, you git. Ginny Floo-ed yesterday telling me that you need to stop by the doctor's office for a follow-up on your stitches. It's perfect for you to meet properly and awake.”

Harry's mind replayed Sirius' suggestion, and his face brightened up with realization. “Of course! That's brilliant! And I'll be able to find out more about her this way!”

“And see if she's truly a witch or not. We can't forget the original purpose.”

“Absolutely.”

“Good. I'll Floo Ginny to have her set up a schedule for you.”

“Sounds good.”

“Harry?” Sirius said before opening the door.

“Yeah?” Harry looked up from his writing pad.

“Don't be a fallen angel.”

Harry stared at Sirius' back as he left the room.

“It's too late. I already am one,” he whispered in the silence of his room.

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Two weeks had flown by rather quickly, and Harry found himself nerve-wrecked. Today was his follow-up with Dr. Granger, and he was excited and anxious at the same time to see her face to face once more, only this time, he knew that she would be looking at him and not straight past him. The thought of that made him even more nervous. He checked his reflection once again in the mirror, using his hand to flatten his hair, but as usual, there were always some strands that would never cooperate with him.

“You might as well give up, dear,” his mirror snickered as Harry combed it again.

Harry groaned as he tossed the comb onto the dresser. He left the room, not before sticking his tongue out at the mirror.

Sirius was already waiting for him in the living room. Last week, after Harry's wounds had shown apparent recovery, Sirius had moved back to his own flat with Remus. He still came over daily to check up on Harry. The three of them, Harry, Ron and Sirius himself, had decided that Sirius should accompany Harry to his appointment, as Ron could not extricate himself from work.

“I'm ready to go, Sirius,” Harry said as he put on his coat.

“Okay, let's go,” Sirius answered as he pulled out his wand.

Harry held his hand out. “Whoa, Sirius, what are you doing? We're going to a Muggle hospital. It might be better to just take the car?”

Sirius grinned at him impishly. “Oh, that's right. I just forgot. Okay, you're driving, since I don't know where it is.”

Harry winked as he followed Sirius out the door, locking it behind him.

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Ginny glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand. It was already 10' am, and she was still feeling nauseous. She turned over on her bed, thinking how wonderful it was to have a few days off of work, especially when she was suffering from a flu bug. The past few days, she had been feeling sick in the stomach, waking up in the mornings with minor cramps and nausea. After calling in sick, she stayed in bed, only to rush to the bathroom for another vomiting spell.

She thought it was odd of her to be so sick. As a child, she had almost never been confined to the bed because of any major illnesses. Even when she had rhinitis, a warm glass of water and a good night's sleep was enough for her. She hated being sick, running to the bathroom every five minutes because of a silly stomach flu bug.

A sudden turn-over in her stomach caused her to feel another wave. She hurried to the bathroom and vomited. After the spell ceased, she pulled the toilet seat lid down and sat on it as she rinsed her mouth with mouthwash. Picking up the calendar that she usually placed on the side of the medicine cabinet, she realized that it was already the end of September.

“Odd, my period is late a week,” she thought to herself. “It's usually right on the dot.”

As if lightning had struck her, her eyes widened with shock as she jumped up from the toilet seat. Thoughts began jambling through her head. “Could it be? It was just…. But we didn't …. And I forgot to perform a spell…..” Pulling her nightie over her head, Ginny quickly walked to her closet and pulled out a white jumper and denim jeans and changed. After tying up her hair, she grabbed her purse that was sitting on the living room couch, pulled out her car keys to drive to the nearest drugstore.

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Hermione chewed on the cap of her pen as she stared at the wall in front of her. She was on a different wavelength today. When Maude came in her office to ask her to sign a few records, she was abrupt with her and sent the nurse away feeling distraught. Even when Wright snubbed her in the middle of the hallway during her rounds in the cardio-thoracic ward it didn't fluff her. The other residents and orderlies were wondering about her odd behavior as she aimlessly moved around. When she returned to her office, she didn't even notice Hilda coming in and out of her office, dropping off more records and paperwork on her desk.

Ginny had called her earlier that she wasn't going to come in because of a slight flu bug. But that wasn't the distressing news. She also told her that Harry Potter was coming in for a follow-up this afternoon and thought she'd like to know. After chuckling, Ginny had hung up the phone, leaving Hermione unsettled and nervous.

Charles had stopped by her office sometime in the middle of the morning. They had discussed a few patient cases briefly for a while. Although she was still able to talk through each case with Charles, her mind was actually a thousand miles away in another world. She didn't even remember what her answer was to Charles' request to have dinner together Friday night. It was not until an hour after he had left her office did she recall pieces of his asking her out.

By the time it was lunch hour, Hermione had only typed one sentence to her report. When she glanced at the wall clock, she was annoyed with herself for not being economical with time, especially when her paperwork was stacked up in two piles. Deciding that she needed some energy in her system, she set her notebook on standby, grabbed her wallet from her bag, and headed to the cafeteria. As she absentmindedly opened the door and flicked her office lights off, she felt herself run into a solid warmth.

“Oof!” she heard the person exclaim.

She steadied herself and pushed away from him. When she looked up at him, ready to reprimand the man for standing in her doorway and not bothering to knock, her jaw fell open as she stared into the brightest green eyes she had ever encountered. For a moment she was enthralled and encaptured, but a few seconds later, she noticed the laughter twinkling at her and she felt her temper rise slightly.

“Dr. Granger, I presume?” the man asked as he held out his hand.

“Yes, and you are…” she gripped his hand tightly and shook it.

His mouth curled into an amused smile. “Harry Potter."

I'm sorry this took so long. Thanks again, to Anna, for beta-ing, and to Jen for her support..

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Chapter FIVE

Ginny paced about in her bedroom, twisting her fingers, pulling her hair, anything to calm her nerves. She had wondered what could have been more nerve-wrecking- facing Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets along with the basilisk, taking the Board exams, or even tempting her dear mum's wrath. But none of these could make her more distraught as she was now. Thirty seconds felt like thirty minutes. She sighed and she paced.

Forty-five seconds.

What if they were negative? She told herself not to be disappointed. The past month had been rather stressful for her. There were more cases than usual in her ward. Harry's accident. Her situation with Draco. It was no wonder that her monthly was late. What if the results came out positive? She could handle the consequences. After all, she'd been independent for the last ten years after Hogwarts. Her college loans were almost paid off, and besides that, she'd kept a nice savings account set aside for special situations. But then again, he would be thrilled too. After all, he did tell her that he loved her. Perhaps a baby would be just what they both needed.

Sixty seconds.

Calm down. Relax. Everything will be all right. She told herself as she pushed the bathroom door open. She picked up the little white stick off the sink and smiled.

There was a blue line down the middle.

She was pregnant.

Ginny mentally calculated in her head. She was about four weeks pregnant. Her hand automatically went to her abdomen and she began rubbing gently. Her baby, no, their baby. She wondered if the baby was a boy or girl. Maybe a boy as gorgeously handsome as his father, or a girl who would turn out to be just beautiful because she was just that, beautiful. Mum would be happy to have another grandchild, all six of her brothers would be doting uncles, and certainly he would be thrilled to be presented with his firstborn child. He loved her, didn't he?

She threw the pregnancy test into the trash bin and cleaned the bathroom. Well, she'd called in sick already for the next few days; she might as well take advantage and catch up on her rest. It couldn't be too good for the baby to be under as much stress as the mother was going through. Then she went inside her study to pick out some of her old textbooks on Ob/GYN. He was on a business trip for his company in New York and wouldn't be back until the end of the week. Smiling to herself, she began to plan the news bearing as she headed back to bed.

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Hermione tapped her toe with her back toward Harry as he pulled off his shirt so she could examine his wounds. When he was done, she asked him to sit on the examination table. She sucked in a breath and turned around.

God, he looked good. She couldn't help herself. Even though she was supposed to keep a neutral mentality and think of Harry Potter as an anatomical specimen and not a gorgeous stranger that she wanted to devour, she was drawn to the power that radiated from the firm muscles that covered his upper body. He was broad shouldered, slightly on the lean side, and there was not one single inch of fat visible on his body.

“Mr. Potter,” she heard her own shaky voice and cringed inwardly. “How have you been lately?”

“Oh, just fine, thank you very much,” he drawled quietly. “Ginny told me that you saved my life.”

She touched the wound lightly. The pinkish colored skin puckered around the sutures tightly. As she gently caressed the wound, she felt another dash of warmth surrounding her body as a soft glow effused from her fingers into his wound. Within milliseconds of her realization, the lacerated skin fused together and smoothened out, rather than the wound in its original state. Startled, she pulled back her finger and stepped back to look at him mysteriously.

Harry kept his gaze even and unperturbed, even though his insides were churning with excitement and wonder. He was right. This woman, this Dr. Granger, was definitely more than what she seemed. She reacted with raw instinct, though he could tell that she was very attuned to her healing, whether or not she realized it or not. The look on her face told him that she didn't.

Even still, the fact that the woman was a very powerful witch had been confirmed. Ginny had said that Dr. Granger did not believe in magic. Surely she would have received a Hogwarts letter when she turned eleven. Is it possible that the doctor didn't know the truth about herself?

It was then and there that Harry decided that he will bring the truth to the doctor, and to find out why she had never shown up at Hogwarts. Dr. Granger looked very young to be a staff physician in a prestigious hospital, but if she was a year older than Ginny, then they ought to have been classmates in Hogwarts, had she been there.

“I'm sorry. I don't seem to know exactly what had happened,” Hermione stammered as she wiped the sweat off her forehead with a handkerchief. “Odd things happen that I can't explain with medicine or science, and you don't even seem bothered by it.”

Harry winked. “I'd rather say that Dr. Granger, you probably have the magical touch.”

Hermione frowned at the word magical. “I'm pretty sure there IS an explanation to what had happened.” She glanced down at his chest one more time. “Anyhow, there is no need for you to keep those sutures. I'll remove them shortly.”

She wondered what he could possibly find so amusing about the current situation. It was very disturbing that both Ginny and Harry Potter had credited the healing to magic, or at least implied it. In her mind, images of Shakespeare's three witches danced in her mind as well as Lady MacBeth's embrace to the darkness. No, that couldn't possibly be true. Decided upon that, she pushed any more doubts in her mind as she carefully removed the thread from his skin.

“How did you know Ginny and her brother?” she asked absently as she lifted each suture and cut them with scissors. Perhaps small talk with the patient would be less distracting.

“Ron and I were schoolmates. I was always at their house on holidays,” he replied.

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? I've met the entire lot. Ron is a very nice person, though, rather protective, isn't he? And I've enjoyed conversing with Bill, Charlie, and Percy.”

“What about Fred and George?”

He caught a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “I have to quote Shakespeare. `Double, double, toil and trouble.'”

He laughed heartily. “Well said, Doctor. They are exactly just that, perhaps even more. Ron probably would be able to recount their many tales with a vengeance.”

She loved his laughter. It was deep and resonant, and it was like he had never truly enjoyed laughing up until now.

“What's the story with you and Ginny?” he asked in return.

She pulled the thread out expertly. “We were roommates for two years in medical school. I was a year ahead, though.” She asked him to turn around and began working once again. “Though I am very curious indeed. All the years I've known Ginny, I still don't know which boarding school in Scotland she had attended. My grandparents lived in Scotland, and they once had offered to send me to school there, but Mum wanted me to stay in London. I had really wanted to go then and had done all the research of the boarding schools in Scotland, but I still can't place Ginny in any of those schools.”

Harry nodded. “Well, Ginny went to our school. It's called Hogwarts.”

Hermione giggled. “Hogwarts? What a curious name indeed! I've never heard of it! Tell me about it!”

“Well, if you'd like to, we can discuss this over at dinner tonight. I have a thing right after this, but I'm sure I can get my errands done before seven.” Harry silently hoped she would say yes, though he was ready for a disappointment.

She looked at him as he turned around to watch her face. The look in his eyes was urging her to say yes, if not begging her. Though she was aware of the dangers of involving herself in a personal relationship with a patient that she had only met just recently, she felt drawn to acquiesce. He was, after all, a friend of Ginny's. And Ginny, knowing her so well, would have urged her to accept his offer.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Potter. I'm afraid I can't.” In the end, the ethical side of her won.

He nodded, though disappointed. “I understand. It would be breaching the doctor-patient relationship. Perhaps another day then, when I am not one of your patients, but rather, a friend.”

She watched him quietly slip his shirt back on. Oh, how her heart had sunk when she caught the quick flash of disappointment that spread through his face. Would one dinner really have any effect?

But it was already dangerous. The day she had met him, she had already crossed the line. No, it was better, safer, to stay within boundaries.

Harry stood by the door as he watched her stare absently at his record. The battle he may have lost, but he will win the war, he determined in his heart.

She heard the door closed, and that was when she remembered. She had a date with Charles Jourdan on Friday. Suddenly, she wished she had accepted Harry's invitation. Groaning loudly, she placed her arms on the table and rested her forehead on them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ginny was in a very good mood. Her patients knew it, the nurses in the pediatric ward knew it, and Hermione, oh, and she knew it too. And she had been such a grouch all week long. But Ginny couldn't help it. She was just so happy. Because HE called her, and they were going out tonight.

“There you go, Princess!” she smiled at the patient on the examining table. “You like that don't you?” The little girl was playing with her hammer. “Here, go ahead. Hit my shoulder.” Ginny glanced at one of the nurses in the room who began to play with little Jamie as she turned to the parents.

The mother, with a worried expression on her face, looked at her expectantly. Ginny gestured at the door and led her outside.

“I think we need to admit Jamie in for further examination. We need to find the cause to those twitches. We might also need a consultation with a brain specialist. The hospital has just brought one in from America,” Ginny explained.

The mother released a sob. “A brain specialist? Is there something wrong with her brain?”

Ginny patted her arm. “I'm not 100% sure, but a brain specialist would be able to give us more information. Try not to worry, Mrs. Park. We'll do our best to give Jamie the best care.” She went inside the room again and motioned to one of the interns. “Admit the patient. Call for a consultation with neurosurgery, stat. In the meantime, I want a blood count, electrolyte panel, a full history from Mrs. Park, any medical records, films from previous visits to other hospitals.”

She left the little girl to the intern's care, and with a glance at her watch, she decided to stop by Hermione's office. With a satisfied smile on her face, she stopped by the food stand, grabbed some muffins and water, and worked her way through the herd of nurses and residents.

Hermione was in her office, as usual, when she was not on rounds or in surgery. Her face was dark as she flipped through the records on her desk. When she saw Ginny standing in her doorway, she scowled. “What are you smirking about?”

Ginny laughed as she shut the door behind her. “And what are you scowling for? It makes you look old.” She tossed Hermione a muffin as she sat on the couch. “I just admitted a patient. A two-year-old girl with twitches in her left foot.”

Hermione bit into the muffin as she continued to write. “Spasmodic?”

“Not really. It didn't seem like it. She seemed normal throughout. But her left pupil was out.”

Hermione looked up at her. “Did you call for a neuro consult?”

“Stat. I should be getting a page when he's done. This new guy, he's good, right?”

“You're asking me? I have been running between CV and emergency. How would I know?”

“You're surgery, and I'm pediatrics. You should know.”

“Well, you're going to find out first. So don't come asking me. All I know is that he's from Harvard Medical School.”

“I see.”

The two friends sat quietly in their respective corners as Hermione continued to work and Ginny ate her muffin. As she closed the last folder, Hermione let out a long sigh. She got up and went outside to pour herself a cup of coffee.

“What was that long sigh for?” Ginny asked as she watched Hermione come back into the room and sat down on the adjacent chair.

Hermione shook her head. “It's nothing. Except, that, well, it's Friday.”

“And what about Friday? You practically live in the hospital. You don't have a boyfriend, don't have a pet. What you DO have is a cold bed and two overprotective and manipulative parents, and don't you dare give me that look when you know I'm absolutely right.”

Hermione laughed bitterly. “Yes. You had just summed up my life for me. Thank you very much, Ginny Weasley. You should look at yourself too. Your boyfriend's a jack ass. He never calls when he's away, and when he does, it's only because he wants a shag. And it took you like after three affairs before you knew what he was doing to you, and look at you right now. You're glowing! You must be getting some tonight as well, because you NEVER look this thrilled except when he goes to your flat.”

“It's different this time,” Ginny retorted indignantly. “He promised me that.”

Hermione snorted. “Like he did every other time? Please. He's scum and you know it.”

“Well, he may be scum, but I love him!”

“Don't say I didn't warn you, Gin. I'm only looking out for you, you know.”

Ginny's expression softened. “Yeah, I know, Herm.”

The two sat in silence once again.

“So why are you on a war path today?” Ginny asked after a sip of water.

Hermione shook her head. “It's Friday. And Dr. Jourdan.”

“Oh. The date that you accidentally agreed on. So go. Go have fun. Get drunk. Have sex. You never do anything exciting, not since…”

“Ginny…” Hermione's voice dropped warningly.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders as she changed the subject. “Oh, Harry wanted me to tell you thanks. He said he enjoyed his last doctor's visit with you.”

“Oh.”

“Is that all I'm gonna get? Just an `Oh'?”

Hermione frowned. “What else should I say? I'm his doctor, he's my patient. End of story.”

“Not any more that is. Harry's a really nice guy. You'd like him once you get to know him better.”

“I'm sure he is.”

“Then why wouldn't you go out with him?”

Hermione stood up angrily. “He told you that he asked me out? And why are you so up to getting me to go out with your brother's best friend?”

“Hermione, sit down.” Ginny sighed as Hermione stiffly sat down again. “All I'm just saying is that if you don't want to go out with Jourdan, then you should give Harry a chance. He really seems to like you, and I know that you'll find Harry to be a wonderful friend, even if things don't work out.”

Hermione turned around to stare at the Starry Night poster on the wall. “Well, that's the thing. I do want to go out with Harry, and by the time I could think about what I had said to him, I had already said no. And now I'm stuck with Charles Jourdan.”

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Hermione smiled politely as Charles poured some more wine in her glass. They had been at the restaurant for already over an hour, and she could not wait to leave. Charles had been very attentive, but he was just too… well, sweet and clingy. And she was starting to feel uncomfortable.

After work, she had returned to her flat and showered. She decided against dressing up and opted for a simple white blouse and loose khakis. There was no point in dressing up in her little black dress when this supposed date was nothing more to her than a business dinner with a colleague.

But Charles of course had other thoughts. He had chosen a small Italian restaurant in the middle of London. It was a very exclusive place, and reservations were often always made at least three months ahead of time. It was small, but it was definitely elegant, and it looked very expensive. Hermione had protested at first, but Charles was insistent. And thus, they were here.

And right now, she was half-listening to Charles regale her with stories from medical school. Not that she didn't care; she was just more interested in going home than listening to his tales. As Charles continued to talk, she kept on playing with the water glass, dipping her finger inside and carelessly pulling out a stream of water each time.

“So we all just stood in the middle of the quad. We couldn't believe that Jimmy had just keeled over like that. We turned him over, and we started to do the Heimlich on him… but it just wouldn't work. So, one of the lads carried him on his back and ran towards the emergency room. The resident took a quick look at him, ordered an X-ray, and we were all shocked at the image. He had his girlfriend's keys lodged right in his trachea!! Then she let us all stay to witness a bronchoscopy. By the time Jim's girlfriend came, the keys were out, and she slapped him hard on the face, rudely grabbed the keys out of my hand, and ran off.”

Hermione nodded her head. “I see. That must have been quite interesting.” She stood up from her chair. “I need to use the ladies' room. Excuse me for a second, Charles.”

Charles nodded and stood as she left the table. She quickly hid herself in the bathroom. As she turned on the faucet water, she sighed deeply, wondering how she was going to get home without leading Charles on… He didn't seem to get any of the hints that she had been giving all night. With a quick splash of water on her face, she breathed in deeply and decided that no matter what happened next, she was going home.

As she made her way back to the table, she noticed two men walking in the front door. The maitre'd bowed as he took their coats. As they were led to their table, the man in the middle turned and stared at her. Her face began to feel warm, despite some water droplets still clinging on her face. He quickly whispered to one of his companions, and made his way towards her.

Hermione twisted her hands nervously as she walked towards him. Realizing that she had failed to wipe her face, she searched in her handbag for a handkerchief, but before she could find one, he was already in front of her, holding out a folded handkerchief.

“Dr. Granger, what a surprise to see you here!” Harry Potter said warmly with a smile on his face.

Hermione took it gratefully from him and quickly wiped her face. “Good evening Mr. Potter. I was just on my way back to my table. Thank you. I'll ask Ginny to give this back to you.”

Harry shook his head. “Don't worry about it. Oh, you have to meet my godfather and my best friend. Do you have time?”

Hermione craned her neck to glance at the table in which Charles was waiting for her. After contemplating quickly, she replied, “I will, if you can get me out of here.”

Harry followed her gaze and nodded in understanding. “Of course! So, I guess we should go see your….”

“Colleague. He's also a surgeon at the hospital. Thank you, Mr. Potter.”

“It's Harry. And glad to be of service.”

The two of them quickly made their way back to Hermione's table. Charles stood up as he saw her, and his face was gray with confusion as he noticed Harry standing next to Hermione.

“Charles, this is Harry Potter. Mr. Potter, Dr. Jourdan. I've promised Mr. Potter that I meet with him later today to discuss his condition and whether or not he would be able to return to work. I'm really sorry, Charles. It had slipped my mind.”

Charles looked disappointed, but he nodded. “Of course, Hermione. I guess I'll see you next week then.” He reached out to grab the bill, but Hermione had already snatched it up. “Let me.”

Hermione shook her head. “It's the least I can do. Thank you for dinner. It was… lovely.” She strained at the last word and gave Harry a warning glance as he was stifling a snicker.

The two of them watched Charles claim his coat and exit the door. Hermione turned to Harry and gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you for getting me out of this. Now, let's go meet this godfather of yours.”

Harry grinned. “This way, Dr. Granger, and once again, it's Harry.”

She returned his smile. “Harry. And it's Hermione.”

I am absolutely sorry for the delay in update. This year has been crazy…. And I just couldn't get this chapter to go the way I wanted to for the longest time. This is it for now, and I'll re-load this chapter once my beta, Anna (if she's still my beta) gets to go over this.

Hope you enjoy, and please, leave me comments

Thank you all for reading, merletto~

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