The Healer II- The Patient (Draco Malfoy Fanfiction)

Chapter 9- Aftercare

The full moon came and went, marking the first night that I didn't take the portkey to Draco's Chateau. I found myself a little more distracted than usual at work, thinking about how Draco was out in the wilds of France killing the people that I was healing. I was glad that Len had connections at an enclosed werewolf sanctuary that he could go to every full moon. It kept him safe from harm, and kept others safe from him as well. He usually returned home with a few wounds from fellow wolves in the enclosure, but they were nothing that I couldn't treat.

Len and I had a routine for the day after the full moon. His clothes would go straight into the wash, he would turn on the radio to the classic rock station and sit on the edge of the tub in our tiny New York apartment while I fetched him a hot, black coffee. Then I'd sit on a stool in a baggy sweatshirt and apply Murtlap essence to the claw marks on his freckled skin.

"...These look worse than usual," I murmured, observing the parallel gashes that ran from his rib cage to his navel. Werewolves had higher pain tolerances than regular people. On any other wizard, these wounds would have them doubled over in pain.

Len sipped his coffee, and I saw that a few of his fingernails were also broken. "There were some new guys at the enclosure last night," Len replied in his raspy Boston accent. "They thought they could come in and own the place. Me and the others who had been there for a while had to teach them a lesson. Assert dominance, and all that."

I kept my gaze low. "You didn't have to."

Len gave me a tired look. "I don't have control over my instincts when I'm transformed, Erica, you know that."

I exhaled heavily, grabbing Murtlap essence from the medical toolkit that was sitting atop the toilet. He was expert at deflecting blame; it was never his fault.

"I know. It's just hard seeing you get injured, is all."

"Well, shit, how do you think I feel?" Len asked sourly, looking at me with sad brown eyes. "The enclosure is safe enough, but that doesn't mean I don't go into every transformation thinking that I might not wake up the next day."

I looked away. "....You're right. I'm sorry."

Len exhaled through his nose and sipped his coffee. "I'm just glad to finally see you. You've been gone a lot lately with that client in France."

I concealed a wince and carefully applied murtlap essence to his wound. "Yes, well, it's a tricky case. I'm hoping things will get easier soon so I can pass it on to my trainee."

"When that happens, do you think I might finally get some time with you that isn't spent with your hands covered in salve?" Len joked in a not-so-joking way.

I healed Len's fingertips one by one with quick episkey spells. "You're married to a workaholic, Len. As soon as I release a patient, I get a new one. It's this constant, never ending cycle..." My thoughts wandered, thinking about the dreary routine of my life. "I can't even imagine how hard it would be to try and raise a child with this job..."

That seemed to catch Len off guard, and I immediately regretted bringing it up. "A child?" He frowned. "Erica, I thought we agreed, we didn't want any."

"I know, but we're still both so young, we may change our minds..."

Len gave me a very serious look. "I dropped out of Ilvermorny when I was 15. Once a month, I transform into a bloodthirsty beast. I can't be anyone's father. I don't think that'll change."

I felt myself shrink a little, remembering that Len was very self-conscious about the fact he dropped out of school.

Regardless, it wasn't like I really wanted to have to look after a child right now anyway. I didn't even know where that outburst came from. Maybe it was on my mind because Draco had a child now- but that shouldn't matter to me. It didn't matter. I was too young and devoted to my career to ever think about children. I guess I assumed I would always have more time to decide. Something about it being off the table completely didn't sit right with me.

As I carefully packed all of the gauze and medicines away into the kit, I quickly asked, "...What would you say, if I told you I was thinking of getting a hysterectomy?" I was not considering it, of course. I just wanted to see how Len would react.

Len didn't know what a hysterectomy was, and after explaining it to him, he shrugged.

"Do it or don't. Makes no difference to me," Len replied casually, scratching his wild dark brown locks.

I closed the medical kit and went to the kitchen, so Len wouldn't see me cry.