Author's Notes: This is a patient/doctor story microsized. A Mind Healer is my magical equivalent to a psychiatrist/therapist/psych evaluationist, but with a minor twist. I know very little about the field, but I did research the basics so I can comfortably inject it into the story. So yea, it is fiction, I am not a real doctor, so inaccuracies are bound to be there. This is probably the most screwed up patient/doctor thing that would not fly in real life, but thank goodness it's fiction, right?

Warnings: Loss/Mourning, Child Loss/Miscarrying, Tragic Accident That Allegedly Inclifcts A Loss of a Child, Self Harm.

Prompts At End

Closer To You

Hermione Granger sat across the desk of Jason Hale – the Senior Mind Healer in the Department of Mental Ailments and Health. He rarely ever took on mentors, but when the brightest witch of her age wanders into the ward, proof of her credentials in hand, and prepared to argue her case in order to seal her mentorship with one of his staff, he couldn't see anyone better to take on the pupil other than himself.

She had done exceptionally well in the first six months of his tutoring and training. Her notes were neat and detailed. She knew how to ask all the right questions and how to properly articulate them to those who had various levels of understanding. She reminded him of how he was as a student. She had a gift, and she was determined to show it.

Jason slid a folder across the desk, twirling it so it faced her properly. "I feel like you're ready to take on your own patient, Miss Granger."

He saw Hermione's expression light up at the offer, but then she quickly went into calculation mode. He watched as her mind raced through all the statistics, weighing her options and experience with what was presented. Folding his hands in front of him, Jason waited for the string of questions she was about to unleash. It was the first patient he was entrusting her with without him leading. She knew it was the final step she had to take in order to be licensed as an official Mind Healer; it excited and filled her with a sense of dread at the same time.

"I've only been mentoring with you for six months. The book specifically says I need at least a year before I can handle a patient," Hermione reasoned.

"Yes, but the books don't have to be followed to the letter," he deadpanned, a small smile forming. "Do you feel confident in your ability to handle someone by yourself?"

She held up a single finger. "Before I answer that, may I ask a few questions?"

He waved his hand at her, offering her the floor. Hermione took in a deep breath, pulling carefully chosen words from her mental dictionary. "How would this actually work? It could get you into trouble, Dr. Hale, and I really would not want to risk my chances at not getting certified because of it. No offense, of course."

"None taken."

Hermione was not against rule breaking, but when it came to serious things like getting a high stress job that comes with the title of a Mind Healer, it wasn't something she was going to take lightly into considering. Some things needed to be done properly and by the book. She saw the corner of his eye twitch at the title she chose to use and she pressed her lips together to stop herself from smiling.

No one else in the department used the muggle title, but Hermione had learned he studied in the muggle field of psychology and received a few degrees in medicine there on top of the magical counterparts when she expressed interested in doing the same thing. He was a prodigy, as Hermione shamelessly told him once. She admired his willingness to duel practice from both worlds in order to better help the magical community. He, for silly reasons beyond her understanding, wasn't overly fond of this being made common knowledge.

Jason was trois-quarts pur, from Switzerland, and studied in Durmstrang in his youth. Though he held no disdain toward others blood status, it didn't stop him from still retaining a form of haughtiness toward other things. The man was quite strict with his staff, and was very careful and selective in who he hired. He occasionally bordered on the meaner side if necessary, but Hermione knew that he did it in order to drive his staff in giving him the results needed without overstepping anyone's abilities.

The wizard was a good height, in the witch's opinion, standing just under six feet. The short, light brown hair was starting to grey, reflecting his age but also wisdom. He had a strong jawline, but his overall facial features were gentle and soft to match his hazel eyes. It made it very easy to be calm around him and spill secrets no one would ever tell a soul otherwise. Jason also had a talent to read people like a book, making his job much easier in the long run. Though it could be a blessing and a curse, it was what made him so great at what he specialized in – healing minds.

Jason rested his clasped hands against his chin, glancing at the folder he presented her with moments before. "Your concern is valid, Miss Granger. Alas, no one usually doubts my trust or opinion I instill on them.

"Since this patient would be considered the final requirement needed in order to receive official certification, I will still be listed as your mentor throughout the process. Yet, instead of I being present for your appointments – which is standard – I feel that you will do far better handling them on your own. On the offhand anyone asks questions, I will keep close tabs on your patients notes, offering advice and adjustments as needed based off those rather than presently. Will this be acceptable to you?"

Hermione filtered the proposition carefully before finally giving a nod. "Yes. May I ask one other question?"

"Please do."

"Could I review the patients file before I accept or decline?"

He gave a firm shake of his head. "You must either take it or not. It is considered a test, after all. You may not always be able to pick and choose who you counsel, Miss Granger."

She took in a sharp breath, having a strong feeling that she was not going to like who was given to her. Swallowing hard, she said nothing for a long time as she stared at the yellow tinted folder. It already seemed quite thick already, so whoever it was had a fair share of medical problems already piled up. This made her nervous, but she also knew Jason wouldn't give her something he knew she couldn't handle.

Placing her hands on the folder, she closed her eyes and flipped it open, thus silently accepting the agreed upon offer. Flicking her eyes open a beat later, it felt like the patient's name lept right off the page to make sure it was the first thing she read: Draco Malfoy.

She told herself she could handle it, she told herself she would remain professional at all times and never overstep the patient/doctor line to obtain what was needed to achieve her goals. She would carefully select all the proper questions to address the situations and wait for their answers while actively writing away as they were received. She would carefully select exercises that would help Draco apply them to his life so he can start to heal. It was her job to show him coping mechanisms that will suit his episodes and keep them at bay. Hermione would do everything by the book, she told herself this over and over. But the problem wasn't the material, it wasn't her method or what she offered, it wasn't how she approached the situation and handled it at the beginning. The problem was the patient.

Draco was by far the worst person to be dubbed a patient in the history of the medical practice, or in her opinion he was. He was stubborn, distant, and so very cruel. The schoolyard insults no longer phased the matured witch, but it was irritating to know that Draco thought it would scare her away the moment he laid eyes on her when she entered the room.

"You can't be serious? The Mudblood?" He all but spat at Hermione. "I do not need this sort of help and certainly not from her! Just let me go!"

Honestly she would have preferred he spat on her over the spew of insults that had followed, it would have got his point across just fine. She knew Jason was right there witnessing the hostile behavior, and even with her silent plea she gave him, he still shook his head dismissively to pull her from the case.

So she gritted her teeth and just went with it. He had made it clear that verbal attacks should be expected even from the kindest people and to always be prepared for it. Unless any physical harm was attempted, they had no need to remove the counselor from the patient, which seemed a little backwards to Hermione – what if she just didn't feel safe?

Somehow, during the patient and doctor matchup process, they were a fit. It had to have been a mistake, because she had been attempting to "help" Draco for three months now, and based on her redundant notes, very little progress was made in that time frame.

.oOo.

It got to the point where Hermione yearned to seek out the missing pieces, there was something not mentioned in the files and it was not adding up with how Draco was acting and behaving. It was driving her crazy to know what that missing link was, and she only knew one person who could help her get ahold of what was needed.

"Harry, how many favors do I need to trade in order for you to get me the case files on the Malfoy accident and to keep your mouths shut about it?" Hermione found herself asking her best friend while eyeing Ron at a distance after supper one night.

She knew it was breaking all the rules, but she broke so many already dealing with Draco. She hadn't properly reported the incident where he skinned his arm off to remove the Mark only to have her find him passed out and losing blood rapidly while his house-elf frantically tried to help him. She hadn't properly reported that his condition was deteriorating more rapidly than she lead on – it was progressing far worse than she wanted it to. He was dying from a broken heart, and each day that ticked by, his will to live faded just a little more.

Hermione was risking her potential career for the pain in the arse, but the desire to help her childhood tormentor was all that mattered to her right now, not only because it was keeping her from getting certified, but the uncontrollable need to solve him like a puzzle was eating away at her conscience and she couldn't figure it out on her own anymore. It was a sick twisted game she made it into, and she felt horrible for realizing this. However, Draco didn't make it easy to deal with him otherwise, and she really truly couldn't stand to watch him suffer in his self-loathing any longer.

Harry didn't miss a beat in responding. "Consider it done. Though you have me curious?"

The witch shook her head, swallowing her sip of tea before replying. "You know I cannot disclose anything about him, sorry."

An unpleasant snort came from the ginger sitting nearby. "Nothing to disclose, we all know he is a spoilt little prick."

Ron took the news of her assignment quite poorly, of course. She wished she were lying when she literally had to petrify him to prevent him from barging in on Jason and decking him over the entire arrangement. It didn't matter that they were temporarily separated, he still cared, and sometimes that was just too much for Hermione to handle when it came to her careers.

It was complicated, her and him. They had attended marriage and grief counseling together, they fought and cried countless times, but nothing seemed to help them in the end. It wasn't healing their pain and suffering, and they were starting to really hurt each other. They agreed to legally separate in order to give each other the space needed to breathe and process everything at a distance. Hermione only ever saw him at counseling, but it was a bit difficult to avoid him when he decided to move in with Harry.

"He lost his entire family in one fell sweep and you still have the nerve to say childish things about him, Ronald?" Hermione scolded, giving him a glare over her mug.

Harry and Ron were the first at the scene of the Malfoy's tragic accident, but they were immediately pulled from the case as soon as possible by the minister himself. Despite their protests, Kingsley felt like they would have a conflict of interest based on those involved, and having unnecessary drama was not something he desired to handle. This had Hermione find Ron's reaction to being assigned to Draco somewhat justifiable, but not everything worked so smoothly.

Ron let out a disgruntled huff and looked Hermione's way. She knew he had plenty to say about it, but she also knew he wasn't completely heartless, either. "Just look me in the eyes and tell me he is not the devil, please."

She jutted her chin out, looking back at Ron with a glint of confidence flashing across her features "He is an entirely different person than he used to be, but he is a far cry to being labeled as the devil."

Ron sighed, dragging his hands through his hair as he reluctantly accepted her answer with a sigh. "I trust you."

"Start acting like it, then," Hermione snapped back, looking back at Harry who was very interested in the Prophet in front of him.

Ron got up and left the room She watched him leave before addressing Harry.

"How soon are you able to get it, do you think?"

Harry snapped back into the present. "Tomorrow, maybe."

"Perfect. Thank you. It really means a lot." She gave him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. "Also, I am sorry about… well whatever that was."

Harry shrugged. He was sometimes too understanding about her and Ron's complicated situation. She knew it hurt him to see his best friends fighting and hurting each other, and he had no way to help either of them aside from offering support.

"It's alright. I knew what I was getting into when I said he could stay here."

"Mm." Hermione worried her lip as she contemplated small talk. "How's Ginny and James?"

"Exhausted and over-energized," he replied with a chuckle. "She cannot wait for Albus to just get here already, though. She's over the pregnancy thing. Should be any week now."

"I can only imagine."

The conversation became quickly tense. Harry could sense Hermione's discomfort and he felt bad about bringing up his second child. He picked at the edge of the wooden table. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for, Harry. You have every right to talk about your children," she assured.

Despite her uneasiness hearing about it, Hermione wasn't going to prohibit anyone talking about their lives around her. It wasn't right to demand something like that from anyone, especially her friends. Besides, she needed to learn to move past it, accept it, not allow it to bother her. It was the only way to truly find peace.

"I know I just… You know," Harry sighed, trying to find a way to word what he wanted to say. "I feel terrible for you and Ron is all. I shouldn't rub my own family in your face, even if it was unintentional."

She didn't say anything, instead she sank into a chair beside Harry. She really didn't want to get further into this conversation right now.

"Just know that Ginny and I are always here for you and Ron no matter what. And if…" He swallowed hard when Hermione looked at him. "If it doesn't work out in the end, I'll always be a friend."

She knew it was opened ended, Harry wasn't going to give up either of his best friends because they had a falling out. They were fully grown adults, handling the presence of an estranged ex was just part of the deal when it came to maintaining a friendship with someone the two once shared.

.oOo.

Hermione sat there in her indent on Draco's couch just staring at him. He pretended that she did not even exist in the small flat, instead he focused on the dreary outdoor weather while tucked in the bay window across the room from her. His hand idly picked at the bandage on his left arm, and she wanted to get up and smack it away while scolding him. She only refrained because it was just not that important right now.

What was instead flashing through her mind was what she was deciding on doing next. It was going to break even more rules, but Hermione could not think of any other way of reaching out to the blond while having an even playing field. Her heart raced as she mentally prepared to drag her own demons from the closet and expose them to someone she would have never imagined showing them to willingly. It was not going to be easy, but she knew that if she didn't do it now, she would feel responsible for Draco completely losing the will to live.

She let out a long breath, forcing it to help calm her before she decided to address him.

"I-I know how you feel, you know," she waited for him to acknowledge her, but he didn't even twitch. "What you're going through. I went through something similar."

Hermione waited, but she knew that he was not going to take the bait so easily. He always made every single thing difficult. "I'm trying to have a civil conversation here."

"I don't talk to the permanent fixtures in my flat. I'm not that off the rails," Draco drawled, not bothering to look her way.

His breath was caught by the window, causing it to fog. She rolled her eyes, but it was a sign that he was at least listening. She wanted to send a jab about him replying despite his statement, but didn't want to agitate him prematurely.

"I had to modify my parents memories to…" Hermione swallowed a breath. "In order to protect them from me and my actions I was going to make in the war. They barely even knew I existed when I was through with them. I was just 'Mary' to them, the traveling agent who showed up, had them promptly pack some things, and head straight to Australia because it was the first place that came to mind when I wanted to make sure they could be as far away from here as humanly possible. The moon would have been better but…"

She let out a humorless chuckle. From the corner of her eye she saw Draco was sort of looking her way now, this was a good sign. Or at least she hoped it was. "Knowing that my own parents no longer knew who I even was, and it was done by my own hand, I should have just stabbed myself with a knife at that point it hurt me so much."

Draco let out a hollowed laugh, temporarily startling Hermione out of her weepy mindset. She shot him a cold glare from where she was. He had shifted his position to regard her more, dangling a leg off the side of the bench seat.

"Your predicament doesn't even compare," he hissed, sharp eyes meeting hers.

She was growing irritated. Half raising in her seat, the witch had to force herself to keep composed. "The situation may have been different, but my feelings about it are similar to yours."

Taking in a sharp breath, she felt the same stab of pain she felt when she had to come to terms with what she did in order to protect her family from the war – from worrying about where she was, from being kidnapped, tortured, murdered…

Hermione shook her head. "It took a lot for me to come to terms with the fact that I might never see my parents again, and to them, I was only a stranger – a nobody that helped put their luggage in the cab and take them to the airport. They would have forgotten my fake name by the time they stepped onto the plane. It was one–"

Draco stood up from his nook, clearly uncomfortable by her suddenly deciding to talk about herself and the war. He eyed her warily and she took the chance to continue.

"I am trying to show you that I know how you are feeling – that dark, empty, lonely place you're trapped in. I can help you stop drowning in it, you just need to let me in."

"I have already told you and that old git Hale that I don't need any help." Draco started to head for his room, knowing that was the only safe haven he had in his flat where he could get away from her.

Hermione was not going to allow that.

Carelessly tossing her reading material to the side, she quickly got to her feet and went after him. "I have seen you slowly fading away everyday for three months! You not allowing me to help is only escalating this terrible self destruction you are placing on yourself!"

"No one cares!" he snapped, turning on her so fast Hermione almost ran into him. "Everyone who did is gone, so what's the point?"

Draco gaze bore into her for a long minute, daring her to say otherwise. She was rendered temporarily speechless, the look on his face had her skin bristle. Despite the extreme intimidation tactic he used, the witch was not going to back down, she just couldn't stop now.

"That's not true," She half-whispered back.

He just shook his head and continued for the hall. Hermione closed her eyes, feeling the words burning viciously in her throat.

"I know how it feels to lose a child!"

Draco froze, Hermione felt her eyes glisten and a sob choke her as she watched the now very still blond in front of her. The air seemed to suffocate her, but she finally knew, finally figured it out – the missing piece to the broken puzzle. The case file she got from Harry had everything laid out: Narcissa and Astoria Malfoy had died in a tragic Portkey accident. Astoria was noted to being barely eight months pregnant. Lucius Malfoy had a seperate file placed within it – he was an inmate of Azkaban who died of natural causes shortly after the accident took place. It was the same route Draco was going, but she'd be damned if she allowed it on her watch.

The infant was never recovered from the scene or its vicinity and has since been marked as a missing – recovery mission. But the file had another set of information in it, a private investigator hired by Draco himself to search for his missing child. It had been intercepted when the blond was brought to the hospital for what his anonymous friend dubbed as a psychotic break.

Hermione broke every rule in the book now, she was not supposed to yell at her patients, to share her personal life with them, to dig deeper into their lives than what was offered by the files and by them without consent, to report attempted suicide so he'd be committed in the psych ward and she'd be pulled from the case. It was the same for she noticing he was losing reason to bother keeping himself alive – he'd be caged and monitored like an animal forced to stay alive until his heart literally stopped from the agonizing sorrow he suffered. She fabricated her notes to keep him out of that mess, knowing it would not help him, and it was partially for her selfish reasons, too.

He did a half turn, grey eyes settled on her with a new unfamiliar focus on the witch. Swallowing down the sob, she forced herself to stay upright. "Y-you were right all along; there is trouble in my not so perfect paradise you claim I have.

"I am a war heroine, an ex-ministry worker who helped so many creatures obtain fair rights in society, who declined and walked away from being the Minister of Magic. Who in their right mind does something like that?

"So many asked me why I left, I told them I wanted to help people in other ways, so I focused on becoming a Mind Healer. In reality I only wanted to use it in order to fix myself, fix my relationship – my marriage, just fix my life. Good lot it did, though."

Hermione paused to wipe her face from the tears. "I miscarried twice before I went to get checked out. At first I thought it was related to the stress I accumulated from my job, as messed up as that sounds but… in the end it just wasn't meant to be for me."

She wanted him to say something, to do something to show her he acknowledged what was said. The witch was crying freely now, her arms wrapped around herself to offer some form of comfort to herself. Why did she have to go and break all the rules in order to help another person? This was her ticket to being certified and she already jeopardized it to help protect her patient, a former enemy, from getting commited all because she wanted to do this for herself. She wanted to succeed. But it turned into far more than that.

"Why would you tell me this?" Draco finally asked, voice just loud enough to be carried across the deadspace between them.

"Because I wouldn't wish such pain and suffering of loss upon my worst enemy."

"H-how?" He had to turn away, a hand quickly resting over his eyes.

Hermione gave a weak shrug he didn't see, but she focused her attention on a mug she left sitting on an end table nearby. "It took awhile for me to… to understand the signs, but they're there. I'm sorry you had to go through that on top of everything else."

It was only a half of a lie. As soon as she saw that there was a child in the mix it hit her like a ton of bricks. She was in denial about her own loss, so she was blind at the obvious signs given from another person suffering in the same way. Hermione felt very foolish to overlook something so important. The only other thing that she couldn't shake was why it was not in his file. She would have to confront Jason about it, and it was not going to be a friendly encounter.

"Well... It doesn't matter anymore, does it?" He hissed bitterly, ready to walk away again.

"It does matter, Draco."

He looked back at her, allowing the unsaid words etch his features.

"You still hold out hope that your baby is still alive out there," she pointed out. "It is the only thing that is barely keeping you together, and I want to help keep it that way."

"How do you know I haven't written it off already?" Draco spat, coming to his senses now, Hermione wished he remained sedated with shock just a little longer.

"Because if I had a glimmer of hope in having the chance to find the very last thing that mattered to me in this life, I'd strive to find it until all options were completely exhausted," she reasoned. "Please let me help you with this."

"What can you do the professionals haven't done?"

"You're just going to have to trust me. Are you able to do that?"

Draco stared at her for the longest time, Hermione shifted her weight and waited patiently while enduring his silent scrutiny. She felt the swell of victory in her chest. She finally did it, she found a way to connect with him, to help him get through this. It had to be done in the most unorthodox way, in the most rule breaking she ever has ever done in her entire life, but it was a success. She wasn't sure if the hope he still barely held onto was something she should rely on, for all Hermione knew they would only be able to recover a body. But even with that agonizing possibility looming over them, anything about the missing child will offer Draco some semblance of peace.

Written for Round 5, Year 2 of The Houses Competitions

Written for the Fem Power March Challenge

House: Hufflepuff

Category: Themed (2000-5000 Words)

Theme Prompt: Understanding

Prompt(s): [Speech] "Just look me in the eyes and tell me he is not the devil, please."

31 Days of Fem Power: Day 3 - Infertility

Word count: (Per Google Docs) 4,724

Beta(s): Trish, Paul, Angel