Disclaimer: This is a work of FanFiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, trademarked by none other than J.K. Rowling. Other names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products solely of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Warnings: Implicit sexual content, occasional profanity, almost everyone is out of character, debatable AU (alternate universe), there are canon references, and it is quite FLUFFY (but with a series of twists and turns)!
Timeline: Post-Hogwarts, following EWE (epilogue, what epilogue?) format, and is set roughly eleven or twelve years after the war.
Author's note: This is my second Dramione FanFic. Hooray. This is a story of love, friendship and family. Highly encouraged for a bit of light reading. If you are looking for dark themes and angst, kindly look elsewhere. Otherwise, please enjoy, have a good laugh and review!
As the Second Wizarding War had reached its conclusion, Hermione Granger thought she can move on with her life as a regular witch. But it wasn't so – as her name had been exposed to fame, due to her dedication in fighting for a world she had never thought was real – where she had been dubbed as a "war hero", some even called her a "celebrity", and had been a "role model" to many, many young women. It was flattering but she can hardly take credit for the others – who had been more involved than she. For the first few years, she went along with it, but then it got old fast and she had focused on her studies again, to become a healer.
Of course, her love life had been as equally cluttered. She had settled into a comfortable relationship with her best friend, Ron Weasley and it didn't take long for them to realize that they weren't exactly compatible. Yes, they loved each other, but they would end up killing each other before the year ends. It was a clean break and they remained good friends; in fact, Ron was now engaged to be married to a Junior Quidditch Correspondent at the Daily Prophet, Dawn Winspear.
Hermione wasn't also short of suitors. She was well-known, successful, good-looking, and intelligent with a fiery personality. But she wasn't the type to indulge herself in short term affairs, rather looking for a partner in life where he can keep up with her fast life and her temper. She thought she had found it with Oliver Wood – the man who dumped her about nine months ago after being together for the past four years.
Hermione had dropped a couple of books and some papers scattered around her as she was rushing to the administration office of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries to drop them off for filing as she had overslept and was running late for her shift. Never mind that she was the healer-in-charge of the fourth floor; she hated wasting time while there are witches and wizards, young and old, who needed her attention since they were short on healers that season. And that was when a patient from the ground floor had helped her gather her stuff – it turned out to be her old Gryffindor housemate, four years ahead of her, Oliver Wood.
She apologized as he handed her a few escaped papers, squatting near her frame. "Well, if it isn't Hermione Granger," he said as soon as he had a good look on her face, giving her one of his famous brilliant smiles.
Hermione looked up from squatting on the floor for a few papers. "Oliver Wood," she greeted as she smiled back at him. It wasn't hard to do that considering the fact that he was such a handsome fellow. "It's been a long time."
He offered her a hand as he unfolded his tall, well-built frame. She blushed faintly as she placed her hand in his so he can pull her up. "Yes, indeed. About seven years?"
"I don't want to do the sums," she grinned. She took away her hand from his and hugged the books and papers to her chest. That was when she looked down at his attire; he was wearing one of the pajamas the hospital lends to stay-in patients. She frowned disapprovingly, her healer instincts taking over. "Mr. Wood, as a healer-in-charge in St. Mungo's, would you please explain to me why you're up and about seeing as you're a stay-in patient."
He grinned roguishly at her. "I was out to get some food and I'm fully healed, anyway. You can ask Healer Ansley."
"You could have called for your nurse. I'm sure she wouldn't mind asking a house elf to get you something to eat," Hermione pointed out. "I will most definitely ask Healer Ansley. Please go back to your room, I will send for a nurse."
"I wouldn't want to trouble a nurse for some food; that would be a bratty thing to do," he argued good-naturedly.
"Good point," she agreed, shrugging. "Anyway, I'm sorry I have to be get going. I have to get this to admin and I haven't started my rounds. It was good to see you, Oliver." She waved and turned on her heel.
"Well, hold on, Hermione," He called out. Soon he had caught up to her and he fell into step beside her. "You can't just leave like that."
"I know, I am being rude but I overslept so I'm late for my shift. I just came in," she explained. They were finally at the administration office and left the books and papers on the desk, smiling at Evangeline, the office assistant, who was smiling as well, not at her but at the man standing beside her.
Oliver was quite popular all over Europe as he is currently playing for Puddlemere United acting as team captain, Keeper, and not to mention the fact that he was handsome as sin. She remembered it clearly, that he was usually the topic in the girls' dormitory before he graduated. Hermione never really noticed him then; she was involved with other pressing matters with her good friends, Harry and Ron.
"I have to get to fourth floor," she said as they walked out from the administration office. "Go back to your room like a good patient." Hermione laughed, letting him know that she was teasing.
He smiled at her. "If you say so, Healer Granger. It was really good to see you. I'm being discharged in the afternoon. I'll come back tonight. What time does your shift end?"
That was a bit forward of him but she didn't really mind; she didn't really believe in playing hard to get. They were standing in front of the lifts now. Hermione turned to him and said, "Eight o'clock."
The doors opened suddenly and before she stepped in, Oliver grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it, looking into her eyes while doing so. "I'll see you later then." He let go, gently pushing her toward the lifts before turning around and going back to his room as instructed.
Oliver was indeed waiting for her at the end of shift but there had been an emergency and so she had to go back upstairs to treat a patient. She was shocked, to say the least, seeing him at the lobby, still waiting for her a little after eleven that night, still willing to take her to dinner. That was the start of their four-year steady relationship.
She and Oliver had a lot of similarities in personality and attitude. Both are smart, quick-witted, ambitious, driven and very hard working in accomplishing their goals. Both are quite passionate for their profession and also loyal to their beliefs.
But Oliver was right when he said their relationship had lacked passion. When they made love, it was satisfactory, Hermione thought, but there had to be something more. Of course she didn't tell him so. She wasn't exactly a woman of the world. Hermione wasn't looking for passion in a relationship – wasn't love and trust enough?
Apparently, it was not.
It had been a messy break-up. After a week, Oliver came back around saying sorry he had made a mistake, he missed her and he wants her back in his life. Hermione consented but then they had another big fight about something she couldn't even remember so they broke it off again, but this time he never did come back around.
She saw him two or three times just this past year and surprisingly, he smiled at her when they passed by each other and neither of them wanted to engage each other in conversation.
It had been three months since Draco Malfoy moved back to London. The reason why his family left was because the shame that fell upon them due to their wrong choices—or rather lack of choices—hadn't done his family good. They fell apart and his father fell into depression just a little over five years ago. After he died, his mother had followed a year later.
He had briefly visited his childhood home in Wiltshire, the Malfoy Manor, but it was still a wreck. Its once gloriously immaculate beauty was lost when Voldemort had used their home as his base of operations. But even if returned to its original state, he wouldn't want to live there now. There had been too many unpleasant recollections such as tortured witches and wizards. He witnessed more deaths in his dining table than during the Battle at Hogwarts.
It had taken Draco a lot of valor for him to move back here from Bulgaria. Draco knew he couldn't continue his life in Bulgaria where he felt that life was bleak. In Bulgaria, he had little friends. He had a few short-term relationships and the last one was Rayna Pavlina. An exotic dark-haired beauty with mysterious almond-shaped black eyes, natural pink pouty lips, an upturned nose that went with an equally gorgeous body. Their relationship didn't last for more than three months.
Draco waited until his position at the Durmstrang Institute teaching Potions was filled before he left Bulgaria. That was the only thing left that tied him down there. He abandoned the house his family had purchased upon arriving there and fled back to London where he easily managed a job in E. M. L. Potions Co. as the head potioneer that supplied potions and such to St. Mungo's and the Ministry of Magic. They also stocked the Slug & Jiggers Apothecary in Diagon Alley.
He now lived in a wonderfully spacious two bedroom duplex apartment. The apartment profits from panoramic views over Canary Wharf in East London. It was white all over but the interior design was impeccable, fashionable. He had bought it fully furnished from a muggle, whose client was a famous actor of some sorts in their world. It cost a quarter of a million in galleons (almost a million in muggle money) that hardly made a dent in his vault at Gringotts. It was a change he definitely needed after these depressive, bleak years in the secluded country house in Pazardzhik Province, Bulgaria.
Presently, it was almost seven in the evening and Draco was brewing a simple Blood-Replenishing Potion.
Sitting a few feet from the giant cauldron, he was reading the Daily Prophet, an article under the Health section about the breakout of a virus known as Gigglepox that makes one break out in itchy boils and if broken, it will bleed profusely and weirdly enough makes one giggle uncontrollably. There was even an image of a teenager with the Gigglepox; the boils looked positively ghastly.
Disgusted at the image provided, he threw away the Daily Prophet and checked his cauldron. It was almost time to drop in the crusoe and the crushed shimon. After that, very carefully, a single drop of silver vinique.
Going through his massive stock of potion ingredients, he didn't notice that he had taken a vial of kaixin rather than the crusoe.
Kaixin was the venom found in a funnelweb red spider. Those creatures were endangered, found only in a very small country in East Asia—the Philippines. The venom does not poison but when mixed with nettle—which the Blood-Replenishing Potion consisted mostly of—proved to be very, very dangerous. If a large amount has been mixed, there would be a definite explosion and if the concoction touched one's skin, the affected areas would swell and discolor accompanied by vomiting and shortness of breath. Cold, clammy perspiration was usual. Soon, the fluid would find its way to the blood stream. The pulse becomes extremely feeble, and shortness of breath and restlessness may continue.
Whistling under his breath, Draco poured in a single drop of silver vinique, stirred anti-clockwise three times, and added three measures of shimon. The dark yellow liquid glinted under the bright lights in his potions room. It was the exact same color of crusoe. He waved his wand. He opened uncorked the vial and emptied its contents.
He froze when he realized when the usual fragrant smell of the crusoe didn't reach his nose. Instead an unpleasant smell filled the room quickly and looking down in his cauldron, instead of the red-colored Blood-Replenishing Potion, it was black and runny, and was staring to emit an amber-colored smoke.
"Hey, Malfoy, how's about a drink—" James Liebeck, the vice president of E. M. L. Potions Co. came in through the doorway. He and Draco had somewhat became friendly during his brief stay in the company. More than a handful of times, they found themselves grabbing a drink in The Leaky Cauldron.
"Get out!" Draco bellowed as he grabbed his wand and scrambled towards the door.
James saw the look on Draco's face and ran. Draco closed the door firmly behind them. He cast spells to secure the door and prevent the explosion to reach beyond the door. Seconds later, indeed there was an explosion.
But the spells were weak and the impact of the explosion reached beyond the door. James was unharmed. Draco was too slow and the last thing he felt was a burning and very painful sensation on his torso and arms; 'Welcome back, Draco Malfoy' was his last thought before he blacked out.
The other potioneers had left their respective potions room and assisted Draco immediately. A stretcher was conjured by James and soon they were on their way to St. Mungo's.
"We need Healer Fairfax immediately!" James announced frantically, upon arriving. Over the years he worked at E. M. L. Potions Co. there had been several accidents. Healer North Fairfax was the healer-in-charge of the third floor, specializing in potions and plant poisoning. Almost immediately, Healer Fairfax was by their side and guided the stretcher to a room.
"What happened?"
"I-I don't really know. I came into his potions room and he told me to get out. We ran and closed the door but the explosion was strong and it seeped through the doorway. He got a lot of liquid on him." James pointed towards Draco's stained robes with black liquid. He blanched when he saw Draco's arm which was swelling.
Healer Fairfax shooed him away and there were about five healers that appeared on his side, surrounding Draco's still form.
He waved his wand over him. "Nettle, shimon, silver vinique and kaixin," he said, shaking his head. He laid a hand on Draco's arm, it was cold and clammy but he was sweating profusely.
Draco's eyes suddenly popped open; they were bloodshot and then he started hyperventilating. Seconds later, blood ran down his nose and not long after, his entire body started shaking.
Healer Fairfax started murmuring incantations, waving his wand steadily. One of the young healers waved his wand to bind Draco's form against the bed. Another healer went to get fetch potions and antidotes. Another administered in divulging him of his stained robes. Minutes later, Draco stopped shaking and his nosebleed stopped. But Healer Fairfax had not yet relaxed as Draco's infected arm started to contract visibly.
A healer came back carrying a tray of various potions. He handed one to Healer Fairfax. He forcibly opened Draco's mouth and poured an entire vial in. The contracting stopped almost immediately. The young healer handed another one to Healer Fairfax and poured half a vial in his mouth. Draco's eyes closed.
Healer Fairfax grimaced. The affected areas on his torso were melting his skin and muscles, surely but thankfully, very slowly. He figured it would reach about 24 hours before it reached his inner muscles. "One of you, go get Healer Granger from the fourth floor."
A young lady healer who was monitoring the patient's vital statistics broke away from the group of healers and ran to fetch Healer Granger from the fourth floor. This was a very complicated case and she already knew Healer Fairfax would call on Healer Granger before long. She was one of the most brilliant healers in the world. She was the only healer living without losing a patient under her care.