Disclaimer - I own nothing! I'm just borrowing from J.K. Rowling!
Warning: This story contains topics of abuse such as alcoholism and suicide.
Hermione Granger cursed at herself as she tried to squeeze ball into her right hand, attempting to grip it into her palm. Her success was barely short lived. Suddenly, the pain in her hand and wrist started to get worse as it spasmed. The ball fell onto the table, making her hang her head low and sigh in defeat.
Needing another heavy drink, she pushed herself up from her bar stool, and reached for the cupboard full of alcoholic beverages not far from her. She grabbed hold of the Jack Daniel's with her left hand, bit onto the bottle top with her teeth and twisted it off, before spitting it onto the table. Not bothering to get a glass, she chugged down a few gulps feeling the alcohol burn down her throat. With the bottle still in hand, she walked over to the closest window and looked outside.
It was bright and sunny outside. The water; crisp and blue right beneath the Golden Gate Bridge. She saw cars driving along the bridge, and debated whether to go to work or not. It was almost lunch time and there truly was no reason for her to rush or even attempt to. Her life had changed since the accident.
Hermione was twenty-eight and a potions mistress. She was a researcher and worked for a billion dollar firm, and got paid more than she could ever ask for. Her boss, Alan Grand was a very generous man, even buying her the modern town house in which she currently lived in. it wasn't like she couldn't afford it with what he paid her, but that is how he was with some of the people that worked for him.
She wasn't the only potions mistress in his company. He had an entire department dedicated to pharmaceuticals and potions research. Besides having an army of researchers working for him, he also was director of the best hospital in the city, also having the best doctors, and medical breakthroughs at his fingertips. Health wasn't his only business, but others such as communications and real estate.
Because of the sunlight, the glass window made Hermione catch a reflection of herself. Her face was scarred dramatically. The right half of it had claw marks that ran down from head to cheek, and her eyelid hung low. Closing her eyes, she remembered that unfaithful day a little over a year ago.
One of her test subjects, when she was trying to collect blood samples—a werewolf, had managed to get lose from its chains and went at her. She got knocked out, and hit on the head hard losing consciousness. Luckily for her, Alan had a walked into her lab shortly after. If he was a second later, maybe things would be different. Maybe she herself would be a werewolf, or worse, she'd be dead.
Hermione felt dead however. Ever since her accident, her life had changed another way and had gotten from bad to worse. Not only was her heart broken, but her career vague. She was unable to work, but Alan never fired her. He kept her on payroll and went to see after her from time to time making sure she was improving in her therapy. Honestly though, there was little change.
The brain damage she had gotten had affected her motor skills, thus not allowing her to use her right hand properly as she should. It was very difficult. She was right handed and could barely write a full sentence without grimacing in pain. For safety reasons, Hermione wasn't allowed to brew anymore. A slight error in her mixing of potions could cause her to be in another accident.
Werewolves were part of Hermione's research. She was trying to find a cure for lycanthropy. She was so close, she could feel it. A potion that she created through her current research was called Wolfsbane 6. It wasn't the regular wolfsbane potion that wizards and witches had to take every day. Instead, it was a single potion that only had to be taken every six months. Wolfsbane 6 though hadn't gone public. It had yet to be patented, as patenting did take a minimum of five years when it came to potions. There was still another three years left for it to go public. She hoped that within the five year time, the cure for lycanthropy would be found, but no. the accident had changed that, and now she wasn't so sure. She wanted to do the research, but wasn't allowed to.
With another few gulps of the Jack Daniels, Hermione wondered if she was going to ever be able to brew a potion ever again. Her doctor said that even with years of therapy, her wrist and hand wouldn't be a hundred percent, and would still spasm often. There was a very slim chance for her to heal completely, and train her hand to do things she wanted it to do.
Accepting the truth of the accident was very hard for Hermione, because she never accepted it. She kept on trying to push herself and her hand, until she was even on the verge of pain. Sometimes she'd me so pissed off at herself that she would punch the wall a few times and not give a shit anymore about it.
As Hermione felt her head slightly throb from the alcohol, she decided to go to work, missing her lab and being able to work in it. Quickly, she headed upstairs to her closet, putting on a Giants hoodie, a matching cap and a pair of sunglasses. She wore them all the time whenever she went out in public, never being comfortable with her appearance, though the scars inside her were deeper than the ones that were actually visible. They were very little help really.
Hermione walked into the very tall building of Grand Industries. After going to her lab in the basement area, she thought to go up and visit her boss. Stepping out of the elevator, she walked out onto the top floor, and saw Hilda, his secretary, sitting behind her desk doing some paper work.
"Good morning Miss Granger," Hilda said in greeting. "What may I do for you today?"
"Is he inside?" Hermione asked, with her right hand tucked in deeply in her hoodie pocket. "I thought maybe to take him out for lunch. He doesn't have a lunch appointment does he?"
"Actually, Mr. Grand left earlier," Hilda informed Hermione. "He went to Hogwarts, but will be back later on."
"Shit!" Hermione said aloud, not liking what she heard at all. Right away, she bolted towards the fire escape, and ran up the stairs that led to the helipad, which was the apparition point that Alan used.
In a blink of an eye, Hermione was standing in the middle of the helipad, and then was gone.
AN – This story will be emotionally heavy and complex. I'm actually very far into the story. This is what I've been writing on and off when I can vent my emotions. Love, like, or hate it? What do you think so far? Review!