Chapter One:

Hermione

There was an annoying beeping coming from across the office. In fact, it was 5 feet away, out of arm's reach from her desk. It had been going off for 14 minutes and 39 seconds. And under no circumstances was she going to turn it off.

But oh, did Hermione Granger want to.

She did her best to tune it out again and focus on the work in front of her. There were five charts holding the information of previous patients. She looked from one to another memorizing as much information as she could. Melissa Thornton, Jim Puddle, Henry Carter, Anna Bass, and Connie Left.

17 minutes and 13 seconds.

Melissa had short term memory loss, Jim had migraines that no potion could seem to help, Henry had a hole in his heart, Anna had arthritis, and Connie just beat cancer.

19 minutes and 4 seconds.

Melissa needs a memory boost potion once every two weeks, Jim requires a referral to receive acupuncture, and Henry was going to nee-

The beeping stopped so she stopped. There was a knock on the door.

"Enter."

Benny Heath walked in with a grim look on his face. He looked pointedly from Hermione to the metronome/timer contraption that had been rigged up.

"You're doing it again," he stated obviously. He picked up the annoying device with his middle finger and thumb, as if afraid it would bite.

"Heath, please-" she began, ready to give a lengthy, but planned, speech that he'd heard at least twice now.

"No, Granger. No. Absolutely no. This ridiculous obsession you have with avoiding distractions is being to be a bother to your neighboring associates."

"But Hea-"

"Granger I said no. I didn't mind you using our new hires as lab rats for your 'distraction tests'" -the man used actual air quotes, I mean really- "and I allow you to monopolize the break area to hold all your coffee making things, but really, a loud beeping noise for twenty continuous minutes?" He paused to take a deep breath and I jumped at the chance.

"Heath, I need to improve my ability to drown out distractions. Now, how am I supposed to be chief of staff one day if I can't stay focused? Isn't a little beeping really just a small price to pay?" She had more to say, a 12 inch parchment's worth of arguments, but Heath gave her a look that cut her off.

"You are to cease this loud nonsense." He back away, still holding the timer. "And stop bringing all this muggle rubbish in to my hospital!"

Harry

Harry ducked as a bottle of firewhiskey barely missed him. Dang, that was a new bottle, too. Another bottle, wine from France, flew at him, hitting him right in the shin and taking him down.

"-And another thing you selfish bastard! How DARE you just ASSUME that you can just PLANT your SEED inside of MY VAGINA. Hell to the no. You'll be the Boy Who Is a Single Father, that's for damn sure!" Ginny stormed out of the living room, grabbed an already packed bag, and left through the front door.

This wasn't the first time they had this argument, and didn't seem like the last. She'd go sleep at the Burrow for a few days, and then Harry would go get her and apologize, and it would all repeat after about a month.

The age old argument between couple. Boy meets girl, they fall in love, boy wants kids, girl would rather get hit in the head with a bludger, boy gets called a selfish bastard a lot.

Harry also had the audacity to suggest that they make the conversion to muggle living. He'd had enough fame for a lifetime or two. But apparently, Ginny had not. Why would she give up being a famous quidditch player? Well, actually, possibly THE most famous quidditch player, depending on results of the poll of Witch Weekly. And don't forget it.

With a wave of his wand, Harry had the pieces of glass sweep themselves into the trash bin. Grabbing a bottle he had previously stashed in the couch cushions, he settled down for a long night of silence. Sweet silence.

Draco

Draco had always been a firm believer of saving the best for last. The pie only comes after one is done with supper. A shot of liquor only when one has finished their day at work. Cleaning near Granger's office is the last spot left after scouring the rest of the building.

Granger, he'd learned, was a mid-level healer. That meant her office was medium sized, with a glass wall for continued observation by a supervisor. And observation by Draco.

Draco Malfoy was not a creep, far from it. It was just that he had become accustomed to Granger's habits. She left no earlier than 10:00 pm, the current time, and she stayed no later than 10:30 pm, as a security guard always came and practically pushed her out of the building. In a moment, Granger will gather her hair back in to a professional bun, alphabetize her work, gather her bag, and leave.

Then Draco could gather all of her coffee mugs, as she used a new one each time she retrieves a refill, clean them, and place them in her preferred order on the break room counter.

Draco would swear up and down that he's not a creep. Just doing his job. Draco Malfoy, janitor, at your service.

He waved his wand in a circular motion, cleaning the glass windows across the floor, simultaneously, which was no easy feat, might I add. Draco had become quite the cleaning expert. He actually liked to think that Dobby would be proud of him. Or horrified and start cleaning for him, good ol' boy.

Granger finally began gathering her things in the normal fashion, but then paused, and stacked her dirty coffee mugs in a neat little pile on the corner of her desk. That was new. After they were seemingly satisfactorily stacked, she continued on with her leaving routine as if she never deviated. She exited her office, eyes focused on the elevator, never daring to look around. Not allowing distraction.

Yeah, Draco pretty much had Granger figured out. Too bad she never acknowledged him. Though nor did anyone else. He was a Malfoy, a dirty rotten pureblood, ironically. The only person who would look at him with kind eyes was his mother and his best, only, friend.

Poor ickle Draco.

Ron

"Mum, can I have some more potatoes?"

She looked at him warily. "Ronald you've already had three servings."

"I can't help it that you're the greatest cook in all of London, mum." She just shook her head and muttered to herself as she brought over another plate of potatoes. Ron was about to dig in when the front door slammed so loud the table shook. "Ginny's back" he grumbled, not that anybody needed an announcement, they all knew.

Ginny's stomping could be heard as she made her way up the stairs to her old room. Meanwhile Lavender made her way back from the loo and sat down at her place next to Ron.

"Ronald?" She asked, using the tone she always used when she wanted something.

"Yeth?" He said, not bothering to swallow, Lavendar didn't need much prompting.

"Why did Ginny seem so angry? I just heard her come in?" Lavender was giving off the look, meaning answer or else.

While Ron was working on swallowing his food, Mrs. Weasley saved the day. "Probably just a rough day a work, dear." Ron nodded in agreement.

Lavender looked back towards where Ginny went and started to shake her head slowly. "No, I feel like it's something more. Maybe I should-"

"Oh, is that the time?" Ron stood up suddenly and loudly to grab Lavender's attention back. "Lav, honey, we should really get going if you want to still check out that flat."

His girlfriend sprung up with a gleam in her eye. "Yes, Ronald! You're right! Let's go, let's go!" He was promptly dragged out of the room, and then the house, his stomach longing for the rest of those potatoes.