Discovering

Discovering

Hermione collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted. She had just returned after an interview. She had been acting for eight years, ever since she left Hogwarts, and was very, very famous in the wizarding world. Her father's old friend was a director, and once, when he visited her family, he had been struck by her style and her voice.

He offered her a job, which would promise her fame. After acting for a few Muggle movies, some wizarding company took note of her talent, and she started acting for wizarding films. It was a very fulfilling job, though if anyone had ever told Hermione she would be acting ten years ago, she would have laughed at them.

Just last week, she had returned home to find some fans of hers sitting on the sofa waiting anxiously for her return, while Hermione's roommate, Rosalva Ziems, entertained them. After that, Hermione cast spells around the house so that no one could Apparate a good mile from the house.

Hermione was so caught in her thoughts that it was a long time before she saw an owl flying outside the window. She frowned, it was the owl she gave her parents in case any emergencies happened, but why would they owl her at this time?

She quickly untied the letter and read it, turning pale rapidly.

"I'm home, Hermione!!" Rose called. "Do you..."

The question died on her lips as she saw Hermione's face. Silently, she picked up the letter, which was on the floor.

Dear Hermione,

Your mother's very sick. The doctor says it's cancer and she doesn't have much time left. Please come quickly. She really wants to see you and there are some things that need to be settled.

Dad

Rose held Hermione tightly as she sobbed, the tears came in torrents, and Rose decided to call Harry to comfort her. He was the only one who could help. She reached for the jar on the mantelpiece, throwing some of the powder into the fire, which turned green. She stuck her head in and found her head in the fireplace of Harry's house.

"Harry,"--> she called. He grinned good-naturedly at her as he saw her head in the fire.

"Hi Rose, what's the matter?"

"It's Hermione. Her mother's very sick. Come quickly. She needs you."

He nodded and suddenly Apparated right beside Hermione.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry," he whispered, cradling her, while she clung on to him tightly. She was comforted by his presence, and he had held her through thick and thin ever since they met on the train fourteen-years-ago.

**********

Slowly, her sobs subsided, and she thanked him as he handed her a handkerchief.

"Do you want to go find them now?"

"Yes. Come with me."

"All right. What about... Ron?"

"Is he here, too?"

"He was bathing when I came. He said he'd come after. Do you mind?"

"No. It's all right. We're still friends even after our break-up."

"Okay, let's go then. Rose," he called, raising his voice slightly, "tell Ron where we've gone."

They Apparated and appeared outside the hospital. Steeling herself, Hermione entered the ward.

Mr. Granger turned around immediately. "Thank God you're here. Your mum's awake. Come quick." He noticed Harry for the first time. "Hi, Harry."

"Good evening, Mr. Granger."

They entered the room. Harry and Mr. Granger stood further away, while Hermione talked to her mother in quiet whispers. Mrs. Granger was wasting away little by little, and none of the doctors could do anything about it. Hermione hated herself for not being a doctor, for not being able to cure her mother using magic.

That night, Hermione stayed with her mother and told Mr. Granger to get some sleep. Harry stayed beside Hermione. Ron had arrived earlier, and Harry had told him to go home and rest.

The whole week, Mr. Granger and Hermione took turns by Mrs. Granger, and Harry was always with Hermione, comforting her and helping her through this difficult period of time.

One day, Hermione was beside her mother again, and Harry was talking with Mr. Granger just by the door.

Mrs. Granger held her daughter's hand tightly. "Harry is a good person. He'll care for you after I'm gone."

"Yes, mum. He stood by me for such a long time."

"Do you love him, Hermione? He looks like he loves you."

"To be true, I don't really know."

"And I think you love him, too."

"As a friend perhaps."

"Hermione, you are as headstrong as I was. When I fell in love with your father, I refused to admit it, for a very long time."

"Mum, I..."

"Hermione, all my things are left to you after I'm gone." She pointed at the table beside her. "Open that box, Hermione. My mum gave the necklace to me. Keep it well."

Hermione nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "I love you, Mum."

"I love you too, Hermione."

**********

That night, Hermione and Harry stood vigil by her mother's side. Mr. Granger had gone home for a rest.

As Harry held Hermione tightly, she leaned her head on his shoulder. "Thank you so much for being with me, Harry."

He smiled affectionately at her, brushing a strand hair away from her face and they were suddenly very close. Softly, very carefully, he covered her mouth with his own.

Hermione trembled slightly. Suddenly, a sound behind them made them break apart. Mrs. Granger was awake. Hermione fussed over her mother, her face bright red and Harry was very pale.

Mrs. Granger had witnessed the scene, but she kept quiet about it. She smiled at her daughter gripping her hand hard, and looked at Harry before gently closing her eyes for the last time.

It was Christmas day, and through her childhood, Hermione had always had a happy time on this day. But not this year. Hermione mourned her mother's death that day. But although Mrs Granger had died, she was happy. Her daughter had found someone to take care of herself, at last.

And she was sure that he would take good care of her. Somewhere, she hoped that they would realize it soon.