Ch54. Useless hopes.

Natasha came back to the living room with two mugs full of hot chocolate only to find Tom completely stunned, looking incredulously at the letter in his hands. Putting the mugs down on the table and sitting next to Tom, she put her hand on his shoulder and asked, "What is it?"

She didn't like the weirded-out look of worry on his face. Knowing Tom for months by now, she never saw him quite so out of it.

Tom didn't answer, he just looked at Natasha, the flat stupefied look not leaving his expression, and handed her the letter before taking his mug of hot chocolate and distractedly taking a sip before cradling it in his hands, clearly deep in conflicting thoughts.

Giving Tom one last worried glance, Natasha's eyes fell onto the innocent piece of paper and she started reading, her eyebrows rising due to surprise.

"I didn't know you had a cousin." She lamely stated after she finished reading, not quite knowing what to say to... that.

"Funnily enough, me neither." Tom dryly responded, his good mood shot to hell.

Natasha could see Tom didn't like the abrupt surprise the letter brought. An accident in the family and the need to see a doctor in one of London's hospitals regarding that? Tom pretty much shared his family history with her and she knew he thought he had no more family.

And since he hadn't known, they might as well not have existed. Yet, she could see he was curious. And that was always his biggest undoing.

Trying to comfortingly smile, Natasha squeezed Tom's hand in a supportive manner. Wordlessly telling him that whatever he decided, she would stand by his side.

"So? What do you want to do?"

...

Tom was about to knock on the door of the doctor who sent his mother the letter but stopped an inch short of his knuckle reaching it. God, he was nervous.

Frankly, he no longer remembered his family from his past life. It was nothing like his memory being deleted. Simply, too much time has passed since then and he was not very close with his previous family. The memories simply faded.

But he remembered his kind second mother to this day.

Maybe it was because he had an adult mind in his hellish infancy years and Grace was his only supporting pillar but... he remembered her and cherished these memories.

Tom knew that she would want him to at least check what happened with her family.

After getting the letter, Tom remembered that one of the things his mother was mentioning a lot during his infancy years was her brother. How they did not speak with each other for years.

She was using Tom to spill her heart to him since she had no idea he understood her.

So, here he was. If only to fulfill his deceased mother's wishes and check in on her remaining family.

Natasha's hand suddenly landed on his shoulder and squeezed a bit, the woman giving Tom a small reassuring smile when he looked at her. Wryly smiling back, Tom took a deep breath and raised his hand again... this time knocking on the door.

"Come in!" A muffled voice came from behind the doors.

Tom straightened his black blazer and unbuttoned the uppermost button on his white shirt to get more breathing room before he opened the door and walked in with Natasha in tow, his nervousness superbly hidden under a facade of self-confident apathy.

"Hello, you are...?" The doctor, a middle-aged man with graying hair and square glasses raised his eyes toward Tom and Natasha asked, blinking in confusion.

This was not his ambulance. Only his office and it was already after his office hours right now. He was in the last hour of his shift, the hour he gave to 'special cases' and he didn't remember Tom among the people that he was scheduled to meet. Hence, his confusion.

Tom gave the doctor a small, polite smile and lightly put the envelope that came to his address on the doctor's table, sliding it towards the man.

"I am Thomas Prest and this is Natalia." Tom introduced himself and Natasha. "My mother, Grace Granger, has been dead for several years now, Doctor. I came to find out what this is about." He pointed at the letter as he seated himself on the chair opposite the flustered doctor who only speechlessly stared as Tom made himself comfortable while Natasha stood slightly behind him on his right, her hand on his shoulder.

The doctor, Michael Smith, as his nameplate informed Tom, had his eyes trailing between Tom and the opened envelope for a few seconds before his brain finally registered what Tom was talking about.

"Ah... Ah!" Doctor Michael's eyes went wide, brightening as he suddenly exclaimed, "You are here because of the girl, right, right." He nodded to himself and distractedly started searching through the documents on the side of his table.

Tom confusedly blinked, his smile becoming forced. Girl? What girl did the doctor mean?

"Er... I think we are not on the same page, Doctor. From the letter, I only know there was an accident. Maybe you could start by telling me what happened and... what the heck do you mean by 'the girl'?" Tom took a deep breath and tried to calmly explain his situation.

The keyword being 'trying' as he was sure his voice raised a bit mid-speech and his expression twitched whereas he felt his eyes narrow into a glare, causing the Doctor to slightly flinch during his question.

"Yes. I might have forgotten to write what exactly happened. My bad. My bad." Michael apologized, looking restless as he tried to appease Tom. "I just have too much work nowadays." He complained and showed Tom a sheepish smile.

Tom's eyes trailed over the table full of unfinished paperwork and frowned, "I can see that." He nodded in understanding. An old guy like that should just retire and enjoy his pension. Not trying to drive himself to an early grave by overworking himself.

Doctor Michael wearily sighed before clasping his hands together on the table in front of him. He pursed his lips, "There is never an easy way to say this but your mother's brother and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, died in a car crash, leaving behind their fourteen years old daughter, Hermione Granger, who suffered light injuries but was in a coma until yesterday." He robotically narrated in an even tone, no doubt doing this kind of thing so many times before that it lost any positive or negative connotation for him. It was just his job.

Tom slowly nodded. He... honestly didn't care. He didn't know these people. Sure, his mother would have been sad her brother died but his mother was long dead too. Tom accepted the news quite quickly.

Well, except the bit about this... Hermione Granger.

Michael dropped his facade for bad-news-giving and sheepishly smiled, "I mostly sent the letter to your address in hopes to inquire about any remaining family willing to take her in. Mr. Granger had a photo of his sister alongside her address so I tried to... Well, you know. The girl has no one else and an orphanage right after such a tragedy could do her bad."

Tom could see from his genuine concern that the Doctor was a good man. A man who cared. He could appreciate that. The Doctor really wanted what was best for his young patient. But still... it wouldn't be the doctor whose life and schedule would drastically change because of this..

Giving Doctor Michael a small strained smile, even if it was a tad bit too obvious it was forced, Tom spoke, "Let me talk with this girl first. A day ago, I had no idea she even existed. Will that be fine?"

Don't get Tom wrong but something about the name Hermione Granger rubbed him the wrong way. He did remember who that was supposed to be but he also deeply hoped her parents were just massive Potterheads who skipped a dimension or something.

That, regretfully, was quite doubtful. There was no Harry Potter series in this world and from the hastily acquired information Tom got from Sarael yesterday, the Wizarding World was a thing. His luck officially sucked as hard as Tsunade.

How he never bumped into even one small indication of this after living for over twenty years in the community of English magicians, Tom would never know. It was a friggin' mystery. Or rather, the two communities must really hate interacting if they went so far as to erase the records of the other existing.

Tom's hopes were small... but he could only hope that his hunch was not correct because that would simply have been damn bothersome.

"Oh, absolutely!" Doctor Michael widely smiled, standing up from his chair, "Let me lead you to her room."