(Hermione's POV)

"Are you kidding me?"

Of course out of the 365 days a year, Mother Nature decides to make it rain on the day that I finally got the chance to land my dream job at the Daily Prophet.

I had gotten up extra early that morning to make sure that I looked absolutely perfect for my interview at 9:30. I had spent over an hour trying to tame my thick, unruly hair into a somewhat presentable braid and had meticulously applied my makeup over and over until it was flawless.

Afterwards I had walked to the tiny closest of the one bedroom apartment that I shared with Ron and picked out my favorite outfit that I thought was the most flattering. The plum colored chiffon blouse was cinched in tightly at the waist, showing off my slim figure while giving me great cleavage, and tucked into the black a-line skirt I had donned.

While I was slipping on my four inch black leather pumps Ron got up from our queen sized bed and slipped up behind me, wrapping his arms around my midsection and planting a kiss on the crook of my neck.

"You'll do great today babe. Remember that I love you," he whispered, knowing how anxious I was.

I turned in his arms so that I was facing him and leaned up to plant a kiss on his cheek then on his lips. "I love you too," I murmured, pulling out of his embrace and going to collect my cheap knock of coach bag (one day I hoped to be able to afford a real one) along with my umbrella.

Outside I quickly hailed a cab and directed them to where I needed to be. It took fifteen minutes before I was making the dash into the lobby of the main office, which had recently relocated, after being destroyed during the war, to the heart of London. I sought out the secretary at the front desk and told her I had an appointment to see Barnabas Cuffe. She typed something into the computer then pointed me to an elevator telling me to go to the ninth floor and it would be the second door on the left.

I thanked her then went where she had told me to go and knocked on the door labeled Barnabas Cuffe, Editor of the Daily Prophet.

There was a muffled voice on the other side of the door inviting me to come inside.

I opened the door half way and quietly slipped inside.

Barnabas was sitting at his desk looking over several sheets of paper of what I assumed was an article for tomorrows edition while drinking a cup of coffee.

"Good morning sir. I'm Hermione Granger," I said, stretching out my hand.

Barnabas looked up, his face bright and inviting, and clasped my hand in a firm grip, giving it a sharp jerk.

"Mrs. Granger please have a seat. I must say that it's an honor to meet you," he said, giving me a friendly smile.

I sat, mustering my most charming smile in return, and mentally embraced myself for the onslaught of questions.

Barnabas removed his reading glasses and began, "I have reviewed your application and am highly impressed with your credentials, but unfortunately I have to tell you that I just don't see you fitting in here with this company. With the economy the way it is today I'm sure you would understand that we can't afford to hire anyone without past experience. I'm sorry."

With that I felt my whole world come crashing down. I had been dreaming of working here ever since I knew what the Daily Prophet was. I had my whole life planned. I was going to eventually marry Ron, have a successful career, move into a plush house on the outskirts of London, start a family, and settle down into the perfect life.

"Th-thank you. It was very nice to meet you," I managed to get out before standing up and walking out of his office in a daze.

The next thing I new I was outside, walking home in the pouring rain.

I could feel my hair instantly start to frizz and it didn't take much longer for my clothes to get plastered to my body.

The rain mixed in with the tears on my face and burned my cheeks as I felt my mascara smear across my face. I didn't care, though,

It was dark and when I got to the end of the street I could barely make out the forms of oncoming cars as I looked both ways and hurried across the road. Before I could make it all the way bright headlights consumed my vision then suddenly a sharp pain flared along the left side of my body. I felt myself go flying through the air and when I hit the ground I hit it hard, slamming my head against concrete.

My mind couldn't seem to hold on to a single thought and black spots began to fill my vision until everything went dark and I gone.

(Next Part)

When I woke up my mind was filled with questions. How long was I out? Where am I? And what happened?

No one seemed to be around to answer theses questions, though.

When I opened my eyes I found myself in an empty hospital room, hooked up to several different monitors and my left arm in a cast.

I looked over and saw a chair pulled up to the bed, angled towards me as though someone had been sitting there for awhile watching and waiting for me to wake up, with an expensive looking black blazer jacket draped over it.

Before I could wonder who it belonged to there was a knock at the door and a young, female nurse, who looked like she had just gotten out of nursing school, walked in.

"Morning sleepy head! How are you feeling?" she asked in a high pitched, girlish voice.

"Morning," I croaked, "I'm fine, except my heads killing me. It feels like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it."

The nurse walked up to check my vital signs and laughed, "Well that's not surprising considering what all you have been through. It's a bloody miracle you escaped with the minor physical injuries that you did."

"How long have I been asleep?" I couldn't help but ask.

"About three days."

I could feel my eyes widen and my jaw drop. Three days?

Ron must have had a fit by then. Where was he anyways? Surely he knew that I was here.

"Um, do you think it's possible for me to get my stuff?" I had to call Ron to make sure.

"Sure, let me go and get it. I'll also let your husband know that you're awake now," she answered, writing something down on the clipboard at the end of the bed then exiting the room.

Husband? Ron must have lied to make sure that he could stay with me and see me first. That must have been why that chair was there, although why that jacket was there was beyond me since Ron didn't own anything like that.

Several minutes later the door opened again and the young nurse walked in carrying my purse.

She handed it to me, "Sorry but that's all they could manage to salvage. Everything else was lost in the accident."

The nurse was obviously new and not very good with keeping up with that type of stuff since the only other thing I had was an umbrella.

I didn't bother to correct her and thanked her anyway before digging in an inner pocket of the purse for my old cell phone. I felt my hand hit something and I grabbed onto it, pulling it out to find a new iphone.

I looked at it questioningly then at my purse and realized that the nurse hadn't even gotten me the right bag. This was a real coach purse and not my fake one.

I was about to say something to her before she left but the door suddenly burst open, effectively ending that thought.

My head started to pound and I felt like I was about to pass out again. Oh sweet Merlin!

Standing in the doorway, instead of Ron, was none other than Draco Malfoy.