Unlike a Sister (Harmione)

Chapter 34: Nicole

"You heard about the earthquake in Papua New Guinea in February?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione nodded slowly.

"Well, they're always in need of trauma surgeons after something like that. I got back late last month."

"That's incredible," Hermione breathed with trademark earnest intensity. "That's so wonderful you did that."

Dr. Srinivasan looked away, embarrassed. "I'm not joking, though. Seema really is determined to have you over. When would be best?" He glanced at Ron. "You're welcome too, of course! And your sister."

"Well, thanks," said Ron.

Hermione laughed uncomfortably again. "How about sometime next month? Work's a bit busy at the moment..."

"Of course," the doctor smiled. "Just let me know. What's your mobile? Perhaps best to coordinate that way."

Hermione swallowed but recited her landline number.

"Great," said Amar, tapping the bright pane of light all Muggles seemed to carry. "I'll send you a text."

"Great," said Hermione feebly.

Amar again looked around the room-at the Camerons laid out on their stomachs, at the intravenous solutions glowing above their heads like tongues of white fire. But he made no comment.

"Could I steal you, Alex?" he said, turning to his colleague. "Cyclist without a helmet. Nasty one."

"Of course," said the younger doctor. "I'll just wrap up a couple things and be right down."

Dr. Srinivasan left then, closing the door behind him.

Alex stared at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Does anyone want to explain or...?"

"He thinks we're Muggles and that they're married," said Ron succinctly.

"Right," said Alex. "Do I want to know...?"

"You don't," Harry sighed. "You really don't."

The next few days were tense.

The Camerons came out of anesthesia and, though exceptionally groggy, seemed no worse for wear. Operation Un-Squib (as Ron and George had taken to calling their little taskforce despite Hermione's protests that it didn't make sense) carefully transferred them back to St. Mungo's.

Three days later, they were ready to try the counter-Memory Charm again. Given her recovery, Hermione didn't trust herself to perform it and none of the others were particularly good at it.

"Ask Healer Holbrooke," Harry suggested, sitting on a spare bed.

The Camerons had been given an entire ward to themselves now. It was about the size of a one-bedroom flat, but a definite improvement from the less private Thickey Ward.

"Waltham won't like that," Hermione said worriedly, doing her paces between the row of beds. "But I trust her to do it more than anyone."

"She's clever, though," said Ron. "She'll want to know why we're going behind the head Healer's back and why we suddenly want her to do a bunch of counter-charms when they haven't worked for months."

"Should we just tell her what we're really doing?" asked Emi from the windowsill next to Maggie.

"Jesus Christ," mumbled Alex, rubbing his temples. "How many more people are we going to tell?"

"You act like this group can't keep a secret," George laughed. "Half of us were in Dumbledore's Army."

Alex made a peevish gesture. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"