𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 [𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨

HERMIONE stepped into the staff room with a sigh.

She assumed a few of the other healers would be in there, eating their lunches. But it appeared not. She furrowed her brows in confusion, wondering as to where they would be. Not even Avery was nearby, and her and Hermione always shared a lunch break together.

Her feet were aching terribly. Perhaps she needed new shoes. She glanced down at her feet and curled her toes; she definitely needed new shoes. 

Nevertheless, she pulled out a chair and sat down, her hands scrambling through her satchel in search of her pre packed sandwiches. She slowly removed the tinfoil, each time her head shooting up to watch the door in case somebody joined her.

Though, nobody did.

Images of her previous operation flashed into her head. There was blood everywhere. Open flesh. Needles, she hated using them. The tense atmosphere, the blinding light. These weren't really her thing.

But there was so much blood.

She spent her training year mostly learning how to swallow back her gag reflex, how to not retch at the sight of overflowing blood or dreadful, deep, open scars. This skill would've been handy during the war.

Blood, blood, blood.

That was one of the reasons she became a healer in the first place. So many lives were taken in the most horrid ways, and she so desperately wanted to prevent that. After the war, she returned to school and took on healing and potions.

She hoped everyone around her would only feel a loss in a natural way.

Her best friends, Harry and Ron, didn't even graduate. They simply lived off the legacy of defeating one of the darkest wizards of all time, Voldemort. But Hermione cared far too much about her education to remain a drop out, so she went back to Hogwarts once it was rebuilt.

Hermione's head shot up at the click of the door, watching carefully as another healer walked in. Her favorite colleague, Avery.

She gave Hermione an apologetic smile. "Sorry for being late. I was getting ready to leave for my break when Alice Longbottom had a breakdown. She was sobbing and clutching to the curtains. Poor thing. I had to comfort her."

"What about?"

"Something about her torture," The blonde witch shrugged. "She was begging for the pain to stop and that she and her husband wouldn't dare betray Lily and James Potter and that she didn't care of the consequences."

Hermione's stomach and face instantly dropped.

Avery seemed to read her expression when she added. "Yeah."

A head suddenly peaked in the door, causing the two witches to turn around. It was the head healer, Healer Silverspoon. His eyes flicked between the women, and their brows furrowed.

"Healer Granger, Healer Scamander. I know you're on your lunch breaks but there has been an incident in room one-six-six-two." His eyes landed on Avery and she gasped before she clasped her hand over her mouth.

Hermione was immensely confused, but before she could ask, Avery whispered to herself. "Draco Malfoy." 

Hermione's eyebrows knitted together at the familiar name, but why should he be an issue now? He died during the war.

"But how?" The blonde witch asked.

"That's what I want to find out." Healer Silverspoon's expression remained blank while he shrugged. "I received a call from Healer Chang. Apparently, he moved; the first time in seven years." He sneered at his next words. "I don't even know what she was doing down in his ward in the first place."

Healer Silverspoon turned his back, Hermione and Avery close on his trail as he headed for the elevator. As they traveled deep underground, Hermione tried to piece together what on earth either of them was talking about.

How on earth is Malfoy here? Her breathing quickened. Why?

The ding sound of the elevator snapped her out of her thoughts as she watched Healer Silverspoon waste no extra time. He stormed down the corridor, she imagined he wore a scowl as soon as he saw Cho pacing back and forth.

She froze once she saw him. "Sir, I don't know how it happened—Malfoy, he—" She cut herself off with a thick swallow as she waved her hands about, struggling to explain. "I wandered about the place with my family and stumbled across him. I'm sorry I know I shouldn't have—but he moved. Twice. I knew I had to call you."

"It's your first week and you've already tampered with a patient." There wasn't a hint of sympathy in his tone, and she cowered in on herself. He glared down at her. "Where is he?"

"Still in there. I didn't dare touch him. I figured you'd have to do that."

He stormed passed her and a sob escaped from her throat once he was out of sight. Hermione walked over and wrapped her arms around the trembling girl. She knew Cho briefly from school, though she would've comforted her even if she didn't.

Hermione heard the sound of wheels on the tiles, and then Healer Silverspoon was pushing a stroller with the all too familiar man lying on it.

He was paler than Hermione remembered, his eyelashes glued to his face. His hands were intertwined together and rested on his lower abdomen. His platinum blonde hair was slightly out of place, but it was overall neat. He had an oxygen mask strapped to his face, though it fogged up infrequently. She knew his piercing cruel grey eyes sat underneath his lids, but something inside her told her she wouldn't be seeing them anytime soon.

He looked...dead.

Hermione looked over her shoulder and—albeit reluctantly—let go of Cho. She sent the girl a sorrowful smile before following after Healer Silverspoon and Malfoy, Avery already on their trail.

They just about managed to all fit in the elevator, Healer Silverspoon standing at Malfoy's feet and pushing the button, sighing as the doors closed. Hermione stood at Malfoy's side and struggled to not look down.

She let her eyes slip and examined him. His chest rose and fell slowly—much slower than the average person. He looked so much older than she remembered, of course she hadn't seen him in seven years.

She couldn't even believe he was here next to her, still breathing. She wondered who else knew he was still alive, surely she wasn't the only one in shock. 

The last time she saw him was during the Battle of Hogwarts. He was a death eater, though she realized that wasn't his choice. She remembered him in the room of requirement with his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle. They had tried to capture Harry, but failed miserably, ending up in Crabbe's death.

He disappeared after that somewhere into the school. And then she'd heard a loud explosion of one of the walls and caught sight of him all bloodied up and tremendously bruised on the floor, not too far away from his parents who were in the same condition.

They'd all been pronounced dead, but apparently he survived.

She reckoned only a few people knew of this, otherwise the headlines would be nothing other than 'Draco Malfoy becomes the new boy-who-lived.'

Hermione surpressed a gasp as the doors opened and Healer Silverspoon pulled Malfoy out, Avery right behind them. However Hermione stayed still, her posture went rigid as soon as the blond witch turned.

"Aren't you coming?"

"No." Hermione's gasped again as her lungs had failed to expand. Immediately she shook her head frantically. "I can't I—need some air."

Before Avery could add anything further, the elevator doors had closed and Hermione let out a shaky sigh. She needed to get away from him. She couldn't even imagine what she'd do if he woke up, saw her, spoke to her.

She wouldn't let him. He was nothing but a traitor that deserved every bit of pain and worry that came his way. He bullied her, bullied her husband and his family, and her best friend. He was a coward. The list went on.

She felt rage building up inside her; she needed to distract herself.

She didn't want to be anywhere near him.