0739 Hermione’s Recovery

Life, in all its complexity and unpredictability, is a one-way journey through time—a path that breezes through scenes of joy and sorrow, triumph and defeat, love and loss.

The magnificent scenery that unfolds along this road, the countless people whose lives intersect with yours in such moments, the events that shape your understanding of the world whether you embrace them with passionate love or push them away with bitter despise can only accompany you for a portion of that endless road.

Like travelers who board and disembark at different stations along a train route, each connection is temporary. In the end, no matter how tightly you may try to hold onto them, they will all gradually drift away from you like autumn leaves carried off by an indifferent wind, leaving behind only memories that grow hazier with each passing season.

Loneliness, that often unwelcome companion, remains the most honest and persistent state of human existence—the default condition to which we all must eventually return, regardless of how many hearts we touch or how many lives we change along the way.

High above the bustling streets of London, where ordinary people hurried in their daily lives completely unaware of the magical world, Bryan’s ethereal phantom floated motionlessly approximately one hundred feet in the afternoon air.

Below him, separated by layers of steel and glass and the barrier between magical and muggle worlds, Louise could be seen laughing lightheartedly with her colleagues in what appeared to be their lunch break gathering.

His eyes revealed a faint but unmistakable loneliness.

‘Let this innocent girl who was dragged into this dangerous mess find happiness and contentment for a while longer,’ He thought to himself. ‘As for Kingsley’s duties and the official procedures that must be followed, let him wait before making any contact with her.’

The howling wind at high altitude ruffled his soft gray hair. Bryan pressed down on his head, looked up at the blue sky, took a deep breath, then stepped into the void to continue his journey.

St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

Whether in Muggle or wizard hospitals, busyness is always the eternal melody. At midday, the Healers wearing dark green robes didn’t even have time to sit down at proper tables to enjoy their lunch in a civilized manner.

Instead, these dedicated medical professionals had developed the somewhat improper but completely practical habit of leaning against whatever corridor corners they could find, clutching their simple lunch boxes while wolfing down their hastily prepared meals.

Clang—

A tremendously loud shout, filled with what sounded like a mixture of pain, rage, and fury, suddenly erupted from somewhere on the fourth floor with such explosive force that it completely overwhelmed the hospital’s usual ambient noise.

The Healers who had been taking their hurried lunch break in the fifth-floor corridor immediately heard the violent commotion echoing up from below.

Without a moment’s hesitation, they abandoned their partially-eaten meals, dropping their lunch boxes to the floor with a series of clattering sounds that added to the general chaos, and rushed toward the staircase.

The resulting noise of running footsteps, shouted instructions, and general commotion created a wave of disturbance that rippled throughout the entire hospital building.

This sudden surge of activity and noise finally managed to penetrate the consciousness of Hermione, who over the course of her stay had gradually grown accustomed to St. Mungo’s usual clamor and had learned to tune out most of the daily background noise that would have stopped a newcomer’s sleep.

A simple wooden desk had been added to what had originally been the plain, sterile hospital room where Hermione was recovering.

Golden sunlight streamed through the room’s single high window. The light fell with almost perfect precision directly onto Hermione’s makeshift study area, illuminating not only her textbooks and parchments but also the countless chaotic trajectories of tiny dust particles that had been disturbed by her steady, rhythmic breathing.

Hearing the commotion from below and turning to glance curiously at the Healers who were running past her open doorway, Hermione blinked her eyes thoughtfully.

For a brief moment, curiosity flickered within those eyes, and she was tempted to abandon her studies and go investigate whatever commotion was unfolding. But in the end, she forced herself to return her attention to the studies.

She had been away from Hogwarts for nearly two weeks now. After entering the upper years of her magical education, where the expectations and standards had risen, Hermione had noticed that the curriculum pace had also accelerated greatly compared to her earlier school years.

The advanced courses now moved at a fast speed that left little room for review or catch-up work.

Just thinking about the enormous mountain of coursework she had fallen behind on during her recovery made it completely impossible for Hermione to rest peacefully in her hospital bed.

So, after the mysterious curse that had been slowly poisoning her body suddenly disappeared the day before yesterday and her natural energy and vitality returned, Hermione found herself unable to bear her rising anxiety any longer. The moment she felt physically capable of concentration for some hours, she immediately and persistently requested permission to return to Hogwarts.

However, this entirely reasonable request (for her) was strongly opposed by both Sirius and Tonks.

After some long discussion that had occasionally bordered on argument, Sirius had finally agreed to make a special trip to Hogwarts to personally fetch her textbooks, homework assignments, and any other study materials she might need to continue her education from her hospital room.

Additionally, he also brought back news of her recovery to share with Harry and Ron, who had been forcing themselves not to write letters and inquire about her condition out of concern that their letters might somehow disturb her treatment or slow her healing process as well as other classmates who cared about her health and well-being.

“Your friends are all eager to see you again!”

When Hermione easily lifted and shouldered the heavy book bag that even Sirius, despite being a fully grown man, had found somewhat challenging to carry comfortably, she had heard him deliver this wonderful news.

She was already imagining life after returning to school, but troublesome and complex problems still remained to plague her thoughts and disturb her peace of mind.

‘The coursework and assignments I have fallen behind on during this time would definitely need to be made up,’ thought Hermione as she bent over her desk, multitasking.

This meant she would have to operate at overload for the coming period, as another matter would also consume considerable energy.

Although she had nearly died from the evil curse, Hermione had never forgotten that the second task of the Triwizard Tournament was now only ten days away.

This situation seemed to present her with what many people would consider a perfectly reasonable excuse for withdrawing from the competition. Being physically weakened by a dark curse and having her treatment consume so much time that she couldn’t adequately prepare would certainly justify losing the competition or even withdrawing from it.

Most people would understand and accept such circumstances as being completely beyond her control, and no one would blame her for prioritizing her health and recovery over that Tournament.

But Hermione absolutely didn’t want to make such excuses for herself, no matter how valid they might appear to others. She still hoped to give her all and perform admirably in the upcoming task.

The main problem that stood between her and this goal was that St. Mungo’s Hospital wasn’t Hogwarts’ library. The hospital’s medical library, while filled with books in matters relating to healing and magical maladies, lacked the various collection of references, and specialized magical knowledge that she would need to consult in order to solve her current puzzle.

She still lacked a reliable and effective method to survive underwater for a full hour, which appeared to be a crucial requirement for successfully completing the second task of the tournament.

The various breathing charms and underwater survival techniques she had researched so far either had time limitations that made them impractical for such a long duration, or required advanced magical skills that were beyond her current capabilities, or involved magical creatures or artifacts that weren’t easy to get.

Thinking about this seemingly insurmountable challenge, Hermione felt her brow furrow with lines of worry and concentration.

Time was truly becoming her enemy in this situation, pressing against her with increasing urgency with each passing hour. She even somewhat missed the Time-Turner she had used in her third year.

Knock, knock, knock—

Clear tapping sounds suddenly came from just outside her hospital room door. Upon hearing this familiar signal, Hermione felt her worried expression gradually soften and transform into a gentle, welcoming smile.

“Hello Tonks, is it dinnertime already? Your hair looks particularly vibrant today… Oh my goodness, what on earth happened to your clothes!”

Hermione exclaimed with alarm as she quickly pushed back her chair with a clang, and stood up in surprise, staring at the claw marks on the stylish black jacket worn by Tonks, whose orange-red hair was disheveled.

“Don’t you think it gives me rather a cool appearance?” Tonks asked with a grin, glancing down at the claw marks decorating her clothes.

But then Tonks’ expression changed, and she released a long, weary sigh.

“There’s some poor, unfortunate fellow down on one of the lower floors who managed to get himself bitten by a werewolf,” She explained, her voice taking on a more serious tone as she described the situation that had led to her disheveled appearance.

“He’s still trapped in that terrible, uncontrollable frenzy period that immediately follows being bitten. The Ministry’s Hit Wizards were unable to subdue him safely. Sirius and I just happened to witness this chaotic scene while we were visiting, and we decided to lend our assistance to the staff. Oh, and Sirius is still downstairs keeping a careful watch over that poor guy, making sure he doesn’t hurt himself or anyone else!”

“But!” Hermione asked, her brow furrowing deeply with confusion as she processed this information. “Haven’t all the werewolves in Britain already been dealt with by Professor Watson?”

“Those guys are similar to the spotted fungus that grows under old floorboards,” Tonks replied with frustration. “As long as there exists even the smallest dark, damp environment where they can hide and multiply, they’ll always manage to grow back and spread again, no matter how thoroughly you think you’ve eliminated them. You can never completely exterminate them. Of course,”

She immediately added with careful emphasis, her tone becoming gentler and reassuring, “I’m specifically referring to those evil werewolves who deliberately kill innocent people and maliciously turn normal wizards into werewolves against their will.”

Tonks paused for a moment. “Remus’s situation is completely different from those monsters, he’s a good man who was wronged by circumstances beyond his control, and he can absolutely be trusted without any reservations.”

Hermione pressed her lips together thoughtfully, choosing to remain silent rather than comment on what she had observed.

During her time recovering under the care and protection of both Tonks and Sirius, she had become aware that whenever the conversation turned to Professor Lupin, the unmistakable admiration and affection that appeared in Tonks’ words and expressions had clearly evolved far beyond the boundaries of simple friendship.

Hermione could see this clearly.

“Let’s not dwell on such depressing topics any longer—” Tonks said with obvious effort, deliberately shifting the conversation away from subject that seemed to stir up complex emotions within her.

She moved to place a neatly packed lunch box on Hermione’s messy desk, then shook the folded newspaper she held in her other hand with excitement.

“There’s absolutely wonderful news to share—this is a special emergency edition of the Daily Prophet that was published just an hour ago! You must take a look at this!”

‘Wonderful news?’

Hermione raised her eyebrows. She took the newspaper Tonks handed her and eagerly opened it. The moment that familiar, calm face appeared on the front page, Hermione’s heart lurched, and a delighted smile uncontrollably spread across her cheeks.

“Professor Watson is back!” She exclaimed with joy.

“Yes, exactly!” Tonks confirmed with matching enthusiasm, clearly pleased by Hermione’s delighted reaction to the news. “The Ministry of Magic held an official press conference early this morning. Bryan gave an official statement about that duel that took place at that Muggle university in Berlin just a few days ago, as well as providing explanations for the massive fire that mysteriously appeared in the suburbs shortly afterward. Tsk tsk!”

Tonks paused to look sideways at the young, confident face captured in the newspaper photograph, her expression filled with genuine admiration and respect.

“Not to mention the fact that his already impressive reputation continues to soar to even greater heights, over these past two years, Bryan’s fame and influence have overshadowed even Dumbledore’s.

Oh, you know, when I was still a student at Hogwarts, if anyone had told me that the Slytherin ‘silent-nerd’ who kept to himself and rarely spoke to anyone could possibly achieve what he has accomplished today, I would have declared them completely mad and suggested they visit St. Mungo’s psychiatric ward for evaluation. But he’s managed to change many people’s impression of Slytherins.”

Hermione nodded in complete and enthusiastic agreement.

Thinking carefully, Hermione realized that ever since Professor Watson had arrived at Hogwarts to take up his teaching position, even the Gryffindor students who traditionally had the sharpest, most bitter conflicts with Slytherin House had seen a sharp and noticeable decrease in serious conflicts with Slytherin students over the past two-plus years.

This improvement in inter-house relations wasn’t the result of Professor Watson being particularly strict in his disciplinary management or implementing harsh punishments for those who engaged in house-based conflicts.

Rather, the change seemed to be because he himself had become a benchmark, becoming an object of unconscious imitation for those Slytherin students, and had genuinely changed their unpleasant personalities.

The most obvious example of this transformation could be seen in Draco Malfoy. This fellow had finally managed to figure out that compared to being a jointly detested ‘school bully’ focusing his energy on improving his magical abilities and academic performance was far more meaningful.

Hermione began to scan through the detailed text of the newspaper article. But as her gaze moved steadily down through the columns of text, her brow began to furrow slightly with growing confusion.

Just as she looked up toward Tonks, preparing to ask a question about something in the article, a familiar voice suddenly came from the hospital room doorway, interrupting her intended question before she could voice it.

“Has your long vacation life here at St. Mungo’s been pleasant and restful, Hermione?”

“Oh!”

Both Hermione and Tonks, caught completely off guard by this unexpected arrival, let out simultaneous exclamations of delighted surprise as they turned to see the smiling young man who now stood in the doorway.

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