For better or for worse

Chapter 1

She awoke to a luminous, bright blue light in her face. Hermione let out a weak groan as she tried to swat the source of annoyance away.

"She's responsive." She heard a woman with a thick Scottish accent say.

The realisation set in that she was lying on a cold, hard, saturated surface, which brought her attention to how uncomfortable and sore she was beginning to feel.

Her eyes shifted in and out of focus for a few moments. Slowly she could begin to make out the lights from the surrounding building reflecting off of the wet stone road. It was dark out; it had to be late.

Hermione's head throbbed in pain, leaving her with little choice but to close her eyes again. The world around her came to life as she became familiarised with the symphony of sounds around her. She listened to rain splattering on the ground, and the patter of feet moving around her. There was a low murmur of voices nearby. She realized she heard someone running towards her, their shoes scuffing the wet stone surface. Their shoes squeaked with every step they made.

Splat, squeak, splat, squeak, splat.

The sound of the squeaky shoes became an afterthought as they had run off into the distance.

She shifted her focus on closer sounds like the rain drizzling on what sounded like an umbrella. It was likely that it probably loomed over the top of her. She allowed her eyes to slowly open again to see an array of three figures above her. There was no bright light shoved in her face this time.

"There you are," the woman with the thick Scottish accent said.

"Mione?" A familiar voice had said.
"Ron?" Hermione whispered weakly.
"Hermione, It's me, Harry!" Hearing the familiar voices of her friends gave her a sense of relief. She could feel it ripple throughout her body as she relaxed her jaw, but soon winced at the sudden movement she made when she tried to look at both of her best friends.

"Harry?" She squinted, mumbling something incoherent as she tried to sit up. "Where are we?"

"Careful now," cautioned the woman.

She could hear a quill scribbling violently on parchment paper. She listened to her surroundings a few moments longer before conjuring the strength to try and sit up again. It was because of Harry and Ron helping her that she was able to succeed.

"Mione?" Harry prodded when he noticed Hermione just sat quietly rubbing her temples. "I'm okay," she said, sensing Harry's concern. Everything around her felt as if it overpowered her. A long moment passed before anyone dared to speak.

"Are ya alright?" Ron asked, noticing that she winced when he spoke.
Her eyes cracked open. "I think so. It's just my head... it.... it feels awful." She hissed, chastising herself afterwards for trying to attempt to make the pain more manageable.

"You must have smacked your head quite hard. We don't even know how long you've been out for," Harry explained.

"Alright, let's ask a few questions then, shall we? Can ye tell me what day it is?" the woman asked. Hermione could only assume she was a Mediwitch or a Healer of some sort.

"Tuesday? No...it's..." Hermione trailed off as she closed her eyes to help her remember.

"Any guesses perhaps?" The woman asked encouragingly. "I...I don't know what day it is," she said in astonishment. "What month is it?" "August?" Hermione grimaced as she blearily opened her eyes once more. The lights somehow made the headache feel more intense.

"Can ye give me the year, love?"

Hermione scrunched up her nose and thought hard before she answered. "1999... We, uh, just finished the war... I'm going to Hogwarts to complete my final year of education. "Hmm," replied the woman. Hermione watched as the woman wrote more.