A/N: This is a one shot, H/Hr fic. Just a scene that's been running through my head for a long time now and I've decided to squash it and write it. Its Post Hogwarts and, even though there's no h/hr-ish stuff in there, they ARE together!
She watched as the rain fell, cutting through the brisk November air. It was coming down hard and fast, so bad that there were no cars on the street due to visibility issues. It'd been raining like this for the whole day, keeping her inside by the happily cracking fire. Not that that was a bad thing, any excuse to snuggle up to the fire with a good book was welcome.
Ever since she was a little girl, Hermione loved the rain. She would often sneak outside and play in it, ruining her dress and getting her in trouble…but she would always sit on her bed, fulfilled and thinking about happily splashing in the rain. She often longed for those days when life was simpler…she didn't have anything to worry about except for what was for dinner and if her mother would be mad if she ruined another pair of shoes.
Hermione walked to her voluminous collection of books that sat on bookshelves that lined two walls of her large apartment. She was in the mood for a mystery, rainy days were best for those, so she hurriedly scanned the shelves. Settling on an old, rust colored book with gold writing on the cover, she sat down on her couch, fully intending to go at her book with a vengeance. She was settled with a cup of cocoa steaming next to her, Crookshanks curled around her head and a blanket covering her bare legs.
The clock on the mantle above the roaring fire tricked, creating a soothing rhythm with the crackling of the flame. Hermione was so absorbed in her book that she didn't hear the phone ring until her answering machine beeped and a voice penetrated her homey quiet.
" Hello, my name is Natalie Holmes, a nurse from Community General Hospital. I'm calling for a Miss Hermione Jane Granger…" the motherly tone said, " I was told to contact you, regarding your parents. There was a crash earlier this evening, at 5: 35 p.m. Mr. Robert Granger and his wife, Lacey, are here at Community General. They are in critical condition and it is vital that we receive contact from their daughter immediately. If you can come to the hospital as soon as possible, it'd be greatly appreciated."
There was another beep, longer than the first, signaling the end of the message. Hermione sat on the couch, frozen. Her book slipped from her fingers as if it was butter, and the warmth of the fire seemed to have left her body. Your parents…accident…critical condition…crash…chilling thoughts rang through her head as she imagined the worst. The sight of her parents mangled bodies, lying in hard hospital beds, hooked up to tubes and wires made her want to gag. She felt light headed and needed air. Hurrying out the door without bothering to put a jacket or shoes on, she hurdled into the street.
The rain came down like ice, each stinging her skin as it hit. She had no destination in mind, just knew she had to leave…she had to run away. It was easier to push the problem aside than actually face it. Half of her was telling her she was being stupid and should contact the hospital like Natalie asked…the other half, the stronger half, was urging her on to the unknown point where she would eventually stop.
How could her parents be hurt? In all her 21 years of existence she had never seen them lift their voices in anger, shun someone because of discrimination or rumors, deny help to anything, despite their background. They were good, honorable people who worked hard as simple dentists to make ends meet…They were the only thing she'd ever known…No matter how many times they moved, they were still the place she called home. If they were gone, who would take care of her? The rational side of Hermione told her that she had friends, and an amazing boyfriend, Harry Potter, who would never let her be alone, but it wasn't the same.
Her tears mingled with the falling rain as she splashed through icy puddles, her bare feet cut from sharp rocks and her legs muddied from the wet dirt. Her normally curly hair hung limp and tangled around her dirty face. She wore nothing but a pair of Harry's old boxers and a tee shirt she stole from Ron their last year of Hogwarts. She hadn't even bothered to bring an umbrella. She knew she must look a sight to the passerby, make up running down her face, red nose, puffy bloodshot eyes, her hair resembling a messy rat nest.
The sound of a blaring horn snapped Hermoine back to reality and she stepped back to dodge the car. Somehow she had wandered into the street and she hurried back to the deserted sidewalk. Blinking in the street light, she shook her head to clear her head. Her head stopped in mid-shake. She knew that bright red colored building…it was right next to Harry's flat.
Dashing across the street, she hurried to the threshold of Harry's house.
" Harry!" she yelled, throwing herself on the door. She banged it until her knuckles bled and her throat was hoarse. Realizing that he would have opened the door on her first knock, she sank down head in her hands. She wept bitter tears as waves of hopelessness washed over her. Her ribs hurt and her throat stung.
It felt like hours as she sat on that step, when in reality it was a few minutes according to the clock in the square. She watched blurry-eyed as an elderly couple strolled down the street, the man in a long tan trench coat and the woman in an old knit purple poncho. The tears that had been few and far between a second ago came anew and she wept again. She mentally kicked herself for being the weepy little girl, crying at the drop of a hat.
Her whole body ached, her eyes stung as if acid was dropped in them and her breathing was labored. She was quite dizzy and she didn't trust her own legs to stand up. She thought she was hearing things when she heard her name distantly through the thunderous downfall of rain.
"Hermoine?"
Hermione looked around for the source of the noise and her eyes settled on a dark figure on the walkway. Messy black hair dripping with water, long black trench coat hanging to his ankles, the man was unmistakably Harry.
"Harry?" she whispered weakly as her vision started to blur and blackness enveloped her.
"Hermione…don't-" and that was the last she knew.
Hermione woke up on an unfamiliar couch, body sore as if she had just run a marathon, eyes felt as if they were super-glued together. She breathed in deeply and recognized the deep, masculine scent that was individually Harry.
" Your awake…I made tea. Hermione.." Harry's voice cut through her thoughts and she rubbed sleep from her eyes.
" Harry...what happened?" Hermione asked, stetting up on the couch while accepting her tea..
" That's what'd I like to know. I come home and find you frozen half to death in hardly substantial clothes for this weather, crying yourself to death and then passing out…"
Harry's words seemed to hit home and all the events of the past ten hours rushed back to her and hit her full force. Her body sagged as if a great weight was pushed on her and she put her hand in her free hand. Thankfully, it seemed as if she had cried all her tears and she sighed, her stomach nauseated. Harry put a hand on her shoulder gently, sensing her distress.
"What happened, Mione?" he asked quietly, resting his forehead against hers. She took a deep breath and grabbed his hand shakily.
" My parents….Natalie called from the hospital…they were in a crash, Harry." She said, looking into his emerald eyes. There was a deafening silence.
" Hermione…are they alright?"
" No…their in critical condition. I should be there...I have to go." She said, suddenly panicked. She stood up, spilling the tea. "Oh, god I'm sorry Harry…I have to go."
" Hermione, calm down. You cant go any where dressed like that. Go take a shower, I got Ginny to bring you some warm clothes. Go take a hot shower, change and then I'll drive you to the hospital."
" Harry, you don't have to do that - "
" Hermione," he interrupted, looking at her, " I'm not letting you go there alone. You don't have to be alone in this."
They stared at each other for a moment, each silently battling with their wills. Harry must have won because Hermione walked slowly to the bathroom and shut the door. A minute later he heard the water turn on and the click of the shower door shutting.
Twenty minutes later Hermione sat in the passenger seat of Harry's car, freshly showered and in a new pair of clothes. Her old clothes sat in the trash bin back at Harry's flat, she sat in a pair of jeans and a white turtleneck with a pair of simple trainers. She was to nervous to trust her own voice, so she let the soft music from the radio fill the silence. Harry didn't try to make her speak, he knew she didn't want to be disturbed and that she needed to sort things out for herself.
Ten minutes too soon for Hermione, they found themselves walking into the large hospital via the sliding glass doors. Instinctively Hermione reached for Harry's hand and he pulled her close, kissing her temple as a silent reassurance.
" Miss," Harry said, approaching the desk with a large nurse perched on a seat behind it, " we need to know the room number the Grangers are being held in."
" Relatives only." She said simply, flipping through a clip board.
" I-I'm their daughter. This is my cousin, Harry." Hermione spoke up, her voice timid and afraid. Harry hadn't heard her like that since the day he fought Voldemort and she thought he had died.
The nurse gave them an appraising look before turning to shuffle through a stack of clip boards.
" Room 413, third floor. ICU."
" Thanks." Harry said, dragging Hermione away.
The walk up three flights of stairs seemed to last an eternity. Hermione was aware of every squeak her sneakers made as she walked up the stairs, every swish of her jeans when her legs brushed together.
The final hallway stood before Hermione and her heart sped up so did her pace. Harry struggled to keep up with her as she ran towards room 413, dodging orderly, nurses and doctors who were all scurrying around. He was taken aback when she stopped suddenly in front of a door way. Her eyes were glued to the plastic blue plate next to the door that read 413.
" Ready?" he asked, holding her hand. She started, as if just realizing he was there.
" Not really…" she managed a wan smile, " but I have too."
They both placed their hands on the door, as Harry smiled at her comforting her, and the door swung open. Hermione took one look at him before entering the dim room, not ready to face what lay ahead but knowing that someone was there to keep her head up when she was going down.
Remember, a review a day keeps the doctor away!!
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