Hermione Granger huffed out a breath of air, pushing a stray curl out of her eyes as she peered down at the hospital charts in her hands. Her green dress fluttered around her legs as she strode towards the main entrance to the fourth floor. With a disinterested wave of her hand, the doors opened of their own accord and the click of her heels against the linoleum continued.
Hermione stopped at the door with the digits 409 painted on it, and cleared her thoughts with a small shake of her head before she entered. Inside, a look of annoyance flashed across the patient's face as his Healer re-wrapped his bandage.
"Healer Granger, honestly, must I be here any longer? I have great places to see and people to meet." The Healer next to him furrowed her brow but said nothing.
Hermione smiled, "In about half an hour, Healer Varni will be back to check you over one last time. Then, you should be able to leave, Mister Wilkens – as long as you promise to be more careful with your concealment charms next time."
Atticus Wilkens was a self-proclaimed "professional explorer" despite, Hermione was sure he spent more time on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for his own back-fired charms than he did truly exploring. He was an old man with obvious wrinkles and the beginnings of a hunch who hated when the Healers advised he should retire his expeditions.
Wilkens waved his good arm and rolled his eyes, "Blast that stupid spell anyway."
Hermione nodded at Healer Varni as she finished up her work and jotted on Wilkens' chart that he was more than okay to be discharged. She left the room after a polite farewell.
As she began her walk to her office, a frantic voice interrupted her train of thought. "Healer Granger! Come quickly!"
In front of her, a newly recruited Healer was jogging towards her, waving her arms and seemingly out of breath. First instinct told Hermione that it was the Healer's lack of experience that was causing her panicked frenzy, but her gut told her otherwise. She quickly followed the young witch, coming upon one of the private rooms.
Inside was chaos. If someone had informed Hermione of the influx of young Healer's on shift today, she would have paid more mind to hover and make sure things were being done properly – she would have to bring that up in the next meeting. For now, the four Healers in the room, including the one who had fetched her, were flitting about grabbing at bandages and potions in their unnerve. On the bed, one boot-clad foot lay unmoving. When one of the Healer's dove behind her to throw out the bloodied cotton, Hermione caught a glimpse of the boy's face, stalling her movements for a tenth of a second.
Quickly, she regained her notion, flying into action. She waved away the witch dabbing at the blood pooling from gashes across the patient's chest. Hermione snatched a clean bandage from pile laid out on the bed and pressed it to the wound, then removed it to see the depth of the cuts. The split skin almost immediately filled with blood again. With a flick of her wand, she cast apart his robes and cut the wool shirt underneath.
"I think I'm going to vomit," claimed one Healer at the end of the bed. Hermione glanced in her direction, and then followed her horrified stare to the patient's legs – or lack thereof. Below the knee, the boy's right leg had been severed. Hermione presumed he had Splinched himself rather well.
Without sizeable bandages, Hermione removed her white coat and folded it messily, draping it across the gashes and pressing firmly. The Healer across from her followed suit, pressing her own hands in the spaces left uncovered by Hermione's. Over her shoulder, she called for someone to replace her. Then, she moved to the end of the bed, removed her apron, and tied the strings tightly above the knee.
"On three, move your hands and the jacket as fast as you can," Hermione told the two firmly. They nodded, and she pulled her wand from the pocket in her dress.
"One, two, three! Vulnera Sanentur!"
As the skin began to pull itself together, healing and efficiently stopping the flood of blood, Hermione focused on the severed limb. "Fetch the Essence of Dittany and the Skele-Gro," Hermione demanded to a Healer seemingly frozen in fear. "Best run, you job may very well depend on it," she added calmly. That seemed to have shocked the young witch into action, and she soon sprinted from the room. She sent another in search of blood bags, and a lot of them.
Now that some order had been established in the room, Hermione went to work checking vitals and looking over the patient. Although he had probably gone unconscious from the pain, he seemed to be doing okay. When Healer Rosier – who had timidly introduced herself in a quiet breath as she watched Hermione's healing over her shoulder – returned, Hermione applied the Dittany to the stump of his severed leg in hopes to heal the wound first before regrowing the bones. The Healer who had gone to retrieve blood bags returned and promptly hooked the boy up to them.
Once he was stable and things were settled, Hermione asked Healer Rosier to stay behind while the others made themselves useful elsewhere. Together, they carefully removed and folded his black robes, and discarded the wool sweater. Aware that Healer Rosier needed just as much teaching as she did experience, Hermione assisted her in casting a Tergeoto clean up the dried blood smeared across the patient's pale skin and a Scorgify on the sheets surrounding him. She also had her fill out his chart, patiently double-checking her work as she did it.
Just as Hermione and Healer Rosier were leaving, the boy began to stir. Hermione waved off Rosier to owl his family while she dealt with his sudden consciousness.
As she looked at him in front of her, she supposed he rather wasn't a boy anymore, but a man. His phenomenally soft-looking skin was littered with scars and bruises, and he grew stubble on his waking face. She moved closer to him. His arms and chest were muscular, far from the wirey look he sported in school, and his face lacked the typical sneer – that she enjoyed.
His lids fluttered open, and grey eyes suddenly met hers.
"Mister Malfoy, my name is–"
"Granger," he interrupted. His voice was barely a croak.
Hermione bristled slightly, "Healer Granger, yes. I am the Healer-in-charge here on the Spell Damage floor of St. Mungo's. It seems you've had quite the encounter with some spells."
In hearing her words, his fingers immediately went to touch his chest where his wounds had been. "A Sectumsempra, to be exact," he said, seemingly to himself. He relaxed in seeing that they were healed. Hermione nodded.
Draco began to lift himself on his elbows, but Hermione stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. She quickly retracted it. "You also seem to have Splinched yourself rather awfully. I healed the wound but you're going to have to regrow everything from the knee down. That is, unless you have the rest of your leg handy."
She expected him to be horrified at both the sight of his missing leg and her willingness to joke about it, but he simply groaned in frustration and bite out dryly, "I don't have the rest of my leg on me, actually, and I seem to have left my spares at home."
She rolled her eyes slightly at the jest. "Mr. Malfoy, do you mind telling me how you acquired these injuries? They were quite severe."
He peered at her for a moment before the corner of his lips turned up in a smirk. "Curiosity killed the cat, Healer Granger." He ignored her furrowed brows, continuing, "I was hit with the Sectumsempra as I attempted to Apparate – the rest is confidential Auror business."
"Nothing is confidential when it comes to patient care," she shot back. She had no idea Malfoy had been recruited as an Auror. She was aware the Ministry of Magic needed more after the Second Wizarding War, but she saw no reason for him to want to join. She made a note to ask about that later, if she had the chance.
He tsked, "Ah, but it is. You don't need to know the context, only the cause of my injuries." Suddenly he sobered up and, although Hermione didn't think it was possible, his skin paled even more. She was worried he was beginning to match the sheets on his bed. "Have you had a patient admitted by the name of Brian Switch?"
She wanted to tell him that that information was just as confidential as his 'Auror business' but the look on his face had her say otherwise: "I don't know, I can check though."
He nodded, seeming to retreat into his own thoughts. "He's my partner, I'm not sure if he made it out."
"Auror Switch didn't make it," a voice stated from behind Hermione. She jumped slightly in surprise. She hadn't heard anyone come in, nor did she know how long they had been standing there, but three men stood by the entrance way of the room, a timid Healer Varni peeking in behind them. They were dressed in matching black robes, accompanied by stoic expressions.
Hermione took her professional-Healer tone with a raised chin. "I'm sorry, Mister Malfoy isn't allowed visitors other than family at this time."
Fingers brushed hers so lightly she almost didn't notice them. "Granger, they're with the Ministry, it's fine."
The man spoke again, "we're here to deliver the news and check up on Auror Malfoy so we can make a clear, detailed report."
Hermione searched Draco's face. It was an odd mixture of frustration and calm, and she thought she saw pain briefly flash across his features. She bit her tongue; she wasn't very fond of steering from protocol, but respected the authority. She told Malfoy she would return to have him take a Skele-Gro potion, and dipped from the room to give the group some privacy.
While she waited, she found a handful of Aurors had been admitted with injuries of their own, presumably from the same encounter as Draco's. While her rookie Healers were quick learners, they were notorious gossips, and it didn't take long for Hermione to overhear that the incoming patients were the result of an Auror mission gone wrong. While the Aurors had gone to simply retrieve information, they had been ambushed and taken off guard.
After a good half hour, Hermione caught sight of the Ministry officials leaving Draco's room. Just as her hand made contact with the door to open it, she heard a frustrated growl from inside. She thought, for just a moment, she heard a sob follow. Hermione removed her hand from the door and stepped back.