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Hidden in Plain Sight	By : Katay Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 17098 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Chapter 16

March 2001

Hermione
took a deep breath and held it for the required three seconds and then let it
go. Feeling the cool metal against her warm back, she shivered slightly and
took another breath. Exhaling slowly once more she tried to stave off the panic
that was threatening to crash down on her in waves. She hated not knowing. She.
Hated. It. It was worse than anything else, that complete uncertainty over
something she had no control over.

�Miss
Granger?�

Hermione
turned towards the kindly Healer questioningly. All she received in return was
a pitying glance and a hand motioning that she could pull her shirt back down.
Hermione smoothed her cerulean blue, Muggle blouse down and straightened out
her black pencil skirt that had ridden up slightly. Pushing a strand of hair
into the clip at the back, she looked pleadingly up at the Healer. �Can�t you
tell me anything?�

The
Healer didn�t shift her eyes from the clipboard she was marking as she
answered, �You know I can�t, Miss Granger. Just be patient.�

Hermione
snorted. �Look, I�ve only got a babysitter for so long. I need to get going.�

That
got the Healer�s attention. Her hazel eyes sharpened and her graying hair
seemed to stand on end in its cropped state. She pulled her glasses down her
nose, looking down at Hermione skeptically. �Babysitter? You have a child?�

Hermione
rolled her eyes and answered petulantly, �Not
naturally. He�s my ward, Teddy.� She tried to peer at the clipboard, �Can�t
I please at least leave and just have you owl me the results?� She really was
uncomfortable in the stark white environment that characterized almost all
hospitals, Muggle or Magical. It reminded her of too many people she�d seen in
their last moments there. If ever she was going to develop claustrophobia, it
would be in the hospital, enclosed by the sheer curtains on a bed of pure white
stone.

The
Healer looked at her sympathetically, �I�m sorry Miss Granger; it won�t be too
much longer. We just think that it would be better if you stayed for the news.�

Hermione
sighed. In her heart of hearts she already knew. Not the whys and wherefores,
but the ultimate answer? Yeah, she knew. As always. She bit back the sinking
feeling and concentrated on her beautiful blue shoes that she had splurged on
just last weekend. She looked up as the Healer exited the small area and then
with a huff of frustration, Hermione flopped backwards on the bed.

Closing
her eyes, she contemplated the extreme enjoyment she derived from being kept
hostage in the oh-so-comfortable white walled Hell, seemingly from a John Paul
Sartre play. She�d been coming here for what seemed like forever. She mentally
counted. 3 years. Merlin! 3 years
she�d been coming to the blasted Healers in hopes they could tell her why she
got dizzy spells, stomachaches that defied pain tolerances, migraines that
would have her in bed for days and joints that couldn�t seem to stay together.
Ultimately it had something to do with Dolohov�s curse, but none of the Healers,
Unspeakables, Aurors, or other trained spells persons had ever been able to
figure out what it was.

�Miss
Granger?�

She
sat up quickly and then groaned as gravity caught up with her head, leaving her
disoriented and queasy.

�Miss
Granger!�

She
held up her hand. �One moment, if you would,� she bit out. She closed her eyes
tightly and willed the sensation away, gripping the bed tightly for anchor. As
soon as it began to fade, she slowly opened her eyes and gave the five waiting Healers
a nod to continue.

The
Head Healer, a Mr. Puckle, cleared his throat and began in a placating tone,
�Miss Granger, I think � well I�m pleased � er � that is to say, well we�ve
figured out what�s wrong with you.�

�Alfred!�
the earlier Healer hissed, clearly worried about his lack of tact.

Hermione
interrupted quickly, �What exactly is wrong with me? Don�t sugarcoat it or any
such fluff, just say it and we�ll all be much happier.�

He
grimaced at her wording. �Well that�s just it Miss Granger, I�m not so sure
you�ll be happy. That curse seems to have done various things to your body. The
only reason it�s started to affect you now, so soon after, is because of how
active you were during the war and directly after you received the cursing.�

Hermione
held up a shaky hand, �Wait � so, multiple things wrong and accelerating. Got
it.� She took a deep breath and asked softly, her former spirit having taken
flight at the rather somber looks on the other Healers� faces, �What else is
wrong?�

The
earlier female Healer stepped up and took one of Hermione�s hands in her own,
�You � you can�t have children dear. The curse � well it�s a bit of an
impossibility now. And even if you were to try � well, the baby would be
exposed to too many problems within the womb to even give it much hope of a
nine-month gestation period. That�s also the reason for the stomachaches.
There�s a lot of tissue damage.� Hermione let out a shuddering breath and a
tear slipped down her cheek, but she wiped it away and nodded at the Healer to
continue.

�You
also have some severe neural damages in your upper spine. You mentioned that
you don�t have much feeling in you upper back around the spinal cord area?�
Hermione nodded softly. �Well it seems that in times of severe stress, your
muscles knot up and cause a severe amount of tension leading to those migraines
of yours. All of the nerves focus on your head and not on the spinal cord,
leading to the lack of sensory feeling. It�s not something we can really treat,
but massages would probably do you a world of good, in that they would lower
the likelihood of knot development.� The Healer stopped for a moment and ran a
soothing hand over Hermione�s now bowed form. She hated to do this to the young
girl. She was only 21, it wasn�t fair.

Hermione
murmured brokenly, �Is that all?�

The
Healer glanced up at her team and they shooed her on, �Well, no dear. The
joints. Your joints are decaying at a faster than normal rate. However, that is something we can help treat. We
should be able to slow it down with therapy and potions that help strengthen
the cartilage in the joints.�

Hermione
gasped, as though she was drowning, �Can�t I � couldn�t I just � take a bottle
of Skele-gro or something? Anything?�

The
Healer chuckled softly, �I�m afraid not dear; Skele-gro only works off of the
bone and cartilage traits you posses already. But unfortunately, we can only
slow it down. We can�t stop it. You�ll probably be in a wheelchair by 60, if
not before. Your ankles, knees, and hips seem to be the main joints affected �
so far as we can tell your shoulders and neck are holding up wonderfully. So
you�ll still be self-mobile, even if your legs can�t do the work full-time.�

Hermione
spluttered, her head coming up to look at the Healer�s, face distraught, �But
60! That�s hardly even middle-aged for a witch. Isn�t there something?!
Anything that you can do?�

The
older Healer shook her head sadly, �There isn�t anything as of yet, but from
what I hear, medical advancements are being made everyday. Hopefully something
will be here by that time. It�s by no means the end of your life. You�d still
be able to walk and such, but it will be easier and far less painful to simply
use the wheelchair or a cane.�

Hermione
shook her head vehemently, �Never. Gods! It isn�t fair.�

�I�m
so sorry, Miss Granger.� The Healer looked at her depressed visage and worried,
�Is there anyone I should contact to come pick you up?�

Hermione
blinked and gave a bit of a hiccup and then, the Healer watched two more tears
simply slip out of the young woman�s already wet eyes, �No, there�s no one.
I�ll just � I�ll just head home.� She nodded to herself and stood up shakily,
the Healer�s eyes widening. �Yes, Teddy. I�ve got to get Teddy.� She looked up
at the other 4 Healers standing uselessly by, snorted, and turned back to the Healer
sitting on the bed. In her best business like tone, Hermione said, �Thank you.
If you would owl me the medications I need to be on and the schedule you would
proscribe for those therapy sessions, I would be much obliged. Now, I must go.
Good day.� With that, she marched out of the ward; head held high, back
straight, face frozen � no other sign that she had just been told, she was, in
effect, broken.

**

George
was fiddling around with the stove trying to decide if the pasta was supposed
to look like that or if he had simply cooked it wrong. He didn�t remember it
being mushy or sticky when Hermione made it, but she was late to their monthly
dinner and he had taken the initiative to cook. He had some rather big news to
tell her, so he was anxious for her to arrive, but figured that Teddy had put
up a fuss or something else.

However,
with another grimace at his pasta, he heard the floo activate and scrambled
into the living room to catch the rather unflooable Hermione as she inevitably
fell out. He took note of her puffy eyes, lack of a Teddy, and rather shaken
appearance. Pulling her up softly he enveloped her in a huge hug and carried
her over to the couch, announcing in a proud voice, �I�ve got a big
announcement for you, Miss Granger.�

She
looked up at him and smiled weakly, �Eh? What�s that George? You finally find
that ear of yours?�

He
grinned and tweaked her ear, �What would I want two ears for? Rubbish I say.
No, it�s a bit more significant than that I�m afraid.� He took a deep breath,
and held it for � well as long as he could until he turned blue.

Hermione
giggled and poked his stomach, resulting in him blowing out all the air rather
quickly. �Rude, Miss Granger,� he exclaimed rather haughtily. Then he grinned
and ran to the closed door to Fred�s old bedroom. �I would like you to meet ��
He opened the door a crack, �My new flat mate!�

Hermione
gaped at him and then shrieked as a giant Old English sheepdog flew at her,
tackling her on the sofa. George laughed happily and jumped into the fray.
�Hermione, I�d like you to meet Fred. Fred, Hermione.� The dog woofed and
licked her cheek sloppily.

Hermione
couldn�t help but giggle and bussed George on the cheek. She knew it would do
him good to have another living being in the apartment, and Fred was probably
the best name possible since George still had the tendency to speak aloud to
Fred � it was rather hard to stop after so many years, and to be honest, he
really didn�t want to.

He
clapped his hands and stood. �Now then, dinner!� He bowed to Hermione and
offered his arm, �My lady?�

She
flounced, well as much as one can flounce when there is 80 pounds of big,
fluffy white fur on your lap, off the couch and took George�s arm.

�What
are we having kind sir?�

�Er
� Pasta, I think?�

�You
think?�

�Well,
it�s kind of � stuck.�

�Ah
� pizza it is!�

�Yay!�

�

A
little later while munching on pizza, Hermione finally gave up on ignoring
George�s frequent glances, and said, �Why don�t you just ask already?�

He
chuckled. �Because this is so much more annoying.�

She
rolled her eyes, �And?�

�And�
what�s up? We haven�t talked in almost a month, what�s going on in your life?�
He asked seriously.

She
nibbled on her pizza debating the various answers she could give.

The Healers give me 40
years to basically live my life.

I get to wheel around like
a crazy lady!

I don�t have to worry about
having any surprises!

Dolohov was a fucking
bastard.

�I
slept with Lucius Malfoy.� Well that
certainly wasn�t what I planned on saying.

��WHAT?!�
- 15
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Hidden in Plain Sight