Hermione's Battle
By Jessiqua
I do not own any of the Harry Potter world, that belongs to the incredible JK Rowling. This story was inspired by my own personal life, The Girl in Times Square by Paullina Simons, and Doctor James Wilson from House. The banner was made by me. I hope whoever is reading this will enjoy it.
Chapter One
Impossible Diagnosis
Hermione paced at the doctor’s office. Something just wasn’t right. She felt so ill, all the time. Ron was not there, he didn’t even know she was seeing a doctor. Well, nobody knew. She had gone to St. Mungos’ but they had not been able to tell her anything, and had referred her to a Doctor in America. "
The Best," Healer Brostov had told her.
What was wrong? She had been asking herself for the past three months. So, here she was during her second appointment in the office of a muggle doctor, Doctor James Wilson. Healer Brostov at St. Mungos’ had made her this appointment, and as she had Dentist and muggle parents she was comfortable with him, knowing the ways and methods of Doctors. Plus, Doctor Wilson was exceptionally lovely. She had apparated into the alleyway two streets from the Hospital. The same place she had apparated to last time.
Hermione was now 22, and beginning three months ago she began feeling very unwell. She first thought she wasn’t getting enough sleep, because she was constantly tired. So she stopped doing as much, like cooking, cleaning, babysitting, studying, working… and started resting, then sleeping. Then she thought it was the Flu, but it just didn't go away. Now, it was at the point she had to quit her studies, her babysitting, household duties, and only worked four half days. After a while, the tiredness began to ache,
if possible - she thought. Her limbs hurt. She lost weight. What else? She didn’t remember. She went to St. Mungos’ for Flu treatment, but they wouldn’t give her anything, like they had the last time. She had originally thought that it was a nastier flu bug, until the tests began. Then the bruises appeared where she hadn’t even bumped or hit herself. One on her lower back kept spreading, and she knew it was something a bit worse than the flu.
“
Miss Granger,” said Dr. Wilson, entering the room with her files. “
Please take a seat,” he said, gesturing to the large leather seat in front of his desk. He too took a seat behind his desk. “
How do you feel?” he asked.
“
Well, I feel awful,” she said and gave him a smile.
He studied her for a while, before opening her folder. “
Miss. Granger-”
“
Please, Dr. Wilson, call me Hermione,” she said.
He nodded, saying “
Hermione, we have some results. We need to give you a bone marrow biopsy,” he said gently. “Y
our lab results have alerted us that you may have Leukaemia.”
A small crease formed in the middle of her eyebrows. She looked down into her lap.
How can I tell Ron? Was her first thought.
Cancer… I’m going to die, was her second. “
Cancer?” she asked.
Dr. Wilson looked down into his hands, which were folded, and sitting on the table. “
Yes Hermione, cancer; we won’t be able to give you an official diagnosis until we perform the bone marrow biopsy, but unfortunately your blood results showed an abnormally elevated white blood cell count, and a severe red blood cell and platelet deficiency. That’s why you have been so tired, and bruising. Your blood is unable to carry oxygen around your body, and your decrease of platelets have made you extremely susceptible for bruising because they can’t perform their job to stop the bleeds,” he explained in the words he thought Hermione would understand. He was wrong. Hermione knew exactly what he was talking about.
“
Well… tell-tell me about this bone marrow transplant,” she said, and a tear trickled down her face. She was really regretting not telling Ron. He could have been here to comfort her. This was just too much and she let out a very loud exhale with a loud cry of despair. The tears were just streaming down her face. She didn’t even have the energy to sob. Doctor Wilson stood up and walked over to her, leaning against his desk. He out his hand on her back and rubbed it.
“
Hermione, I understand this is very hard for you. Is there anyone I can call? Your parents, or a friend?” he asked.
“
No, I haven’t told anyone. I… flew in from England,” she said through the tears.
His head bowed. Poor girl, he thought, and his heart broke. He was used to telling people they had cancer, but those people were usually elderly, and usually had loved ones with them. They were prepared for the news. Not this girl.
“
Hermione if the biopsy returns positive we will have to begin treatment immediately. The treatment is aggressive chemotherapy, and we will discuss with you fertility options.” As he had suspected, with such a young beautiful woman, she broke down even more if he had thought that was possible. Because she was so alone, he pulled her up into a hug. She melted against him and sobbed hard into his chest.