Conversation with Hermione

405 21 0
                                    

Harry woke up on the eighth day after his surgery feeling the best he had so far. Yes, his residual limb hurt a bit, but he was still getting pain medication for it. He still had IV access for his antibiotics, but he no longer needed to be hooked up to them all the time. His asthma had been diagnosed by a specialist after several tests, and now he had a daily prescription he must take as well as a new inhaler. And they were trusting him to go to the loo by himself now. He had always been self-sufficient because he had needed to be, and now he didn't have to be quite so much, but he did enjoy his privacy in the loo. He had finished the first Lord of the Rings book and was about a half into the second. He was so thankful Nurse Beth had loaned it to him. She had brought a few more books she thought he might like and told him he could keep them because she liked to pass around books.

Harry ate his breakfast of toast, jam, eggs, and bacon. These were his favourites, and he rarely got enough of any of these at the Dursley's, particularly if Dudley decided he was still hungry. After a large glass of water, he pushed away the tray table and got himself to the side of his bed. He knew he should wait for his next bag of antibiotics, but perhaps he could sneak out. He knew that there were other kids here, and he was feeling adventurous. Checking over his clothing, he thought he looked fine. He was wearing a hospital gown, but he was also wearing a pair of black track bottoms with one leg pinned up so he wouldn't get tangled up in it. (Tina had a small fund for purchasing some clothes for him. He had never had new clothes before!) He retrieved his crutches and slid off the side of the bed. He decided to make a break for it, moving quickly to reach the door. He balanced on one crutch to open it, and fortunately for him, the door was not heavy, as some doors are apt to be. He had only had experience with the bathroom door, but this proved to be similar, and got himself out with no injury or incident.

He set off down the hall the hallway, as quietly as he could. He was not sure if he should just go knock on a door to see if someone was in or not, or well enough to talk.

Four doors down from his own, a door opened with a bang against the wall. He stopped and stood nearby. Maybe this was someone he could talk to?
A girl with long dark, curly hair (not quite as messy as Harry's) stepped out with a walking stick. He thought she might be his age. She grinned at him, held out her hand, and said,

"I'm Hermione Granger, and you must be Harry," she said. Harry balanced and shook her hand. "I was hoping to talk to you."

"How do you know who I am?" Harry asked anxiously, his brows furrowing. He didn't think that any of the other patients here would know his name.

"Let's find a private place to talk. The playroom is right over here," Hermione suggested, waving her unoccupied hand down the hall to another door.

"Er, playroom?" Harry knew he should be in his room so Beth wouldn't be looking for him for his medication, but he'd wanted out of his room, right?
Hermione led the way just two more doors down the hall. There were a few shelves scattered with picture books and toys. There was also a couch onto which Harry let himself fall backwards. He was already tired from his longest walk since the surgery.

"So," Hermione began, "I hear you may be coming to my house to live."

"What? I don't know you. I know Ms. Tina said she would look for someplace for me to live, but why yours?" Harry said.

"She is my Aunt Tina, and she's my favourite aunt. She comes over and brings food to our house all the time, and then we chat together. She loves to talk about books with me, music, and other interests I have. She teaches me Farsi. That's Persian language. My middle name is Darya, which means 'sea' or 'ocean.' I love learning. Do you love learning?"

He blinked at her, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. "Yeah, er, I do like learning. Are you Ms. Shayani's daughter? My surgeon, who did this?" he pointed at his residual limb.

EemanWhere stories live. Discover now