Chapter 1: Lenore's POV

Healer Draco Malfoy was writing a report, his silver blond head stooped over the paper, a heavy frown darkening his sharp, handsome features. Every few minutes, he would refer to a parchment at his left hand, nod once or twice, and continue with his careful note-taking, the quill scratching the heavy parchment.

Lenore Crowe-Darrington watched him covertly under long lashes, her hair falling mutinously into her eyes as she struggled to concentrate on the book in her lap. She knew the story, they all did. He had left his classmates, joined He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and then ran off with his equally cowardly parents and left even his precious Death Eaters to their fate. It was decided that this was 'rebelling' against the Dark Lord, thus, his family escaped imprisonment.

He was lucky anyone had considered him for continued education and employment, and she mentally mocked him, but her inner voice seemed unsure of itself, her memory dwelling incessantly on his tireless efforts to save a young witch who had gotten shot in the chest with the ugly bolt of a crossbow just a day before...

She berated herself, slapping the book shut aggressively and getting to her feet. He was a traitor, a coward, and as far as she was concerned, he could go kiss a dementor. Draco glanced up, his gray eyes questioning. She stared at him. He looked exhausted, ugly purplish circles bruising the pale skin around his eyes. The fingers that wrapped around the writing quill were shaking, and she felt a momentary stab of worry for him. Angry at the fleeting thought, her eyes flicked to his left arm, where she knew the Dark Mark to be hidden, and she glared at that spot pointedly. .

"Are you well, Lenore?" he asked, a guarded look stealing into his eyes.

"Yes, Healer Malfoy," she answered shortly, wrenching her eyes from the black sleeve. "Will you be requiring anything of me before my shift ends?"

A range of emotions playing upon his face, Draco finally shook his head. "No, you may go," he replied, a cool edge making the dismissal hard as flint. She saw him spasmodically wrench his sleeve down as she left the room.

As a muggle-born, Lenore was more than familiar with the Tube, and so it was with very little effort she got on and was soon swept away to her small, neat flat. Unlocking the door and swinging it open, she winced as it pounded the wall, deepening the hollow that already marred the white wall. Locking it and cursing at yet another home repair, Lenore kicked off her shoes, and shrugging out of her robes, she fell face down on the capacious couch, asleep in moments...

She walked through the silent corridors of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It was unusual for the hospital to be this silent, but dream Lenore did not seem to mind this abnormality; she was looking for something. Wandering through the halls, her footsteps sounding muffled and distant, a draft raised goose pimples upon her bare arms. A door suddenly appeared at the end of the seeming endless hall, and with unhesitating surety, she knew this was what she had been looking for.

Pushing through the door, she approached the desk that sat in the center of the room, apparently the only thing in the room. Draco Malfoy glanced up at her, his gray eyes tarnished silver. Lenore walked around the desk, her fingertips trailing upon its sanded surface.

Draco licked his lips, his eyes worshiping her body's curves like a benediction, but upon his lips lay objections.

"We can't do this," he whispered as she ran cool fingertips along his jaw. She straddled his lap, tilting his head up, and she kissed him. He groaned into her mouth, his hands running up her back, which was suddenly bare under his searching fingers. He broke the kiss, but only to nibble her jaw and throat, and she threw back her head, fingers tangling in his silver blond hair.

His hands running down her back, he braced her derriere, and stood to place her on the desk, kissing her more roughly. She wrapped her legs around his waist, nipping at his lip with a growl. The sounds of paperwork, letter openers, and quills weltered to the floor as he swept things from the desk to lay her back, her hair splaying like ink across the desk. She could feel his hands running up and down her thighs, and she growled again in frustration as he patently avoided where she really wanted him to touch her...

Lenore awoke with such a start that, with a scream, she fell from the couch and landed with a hard bump onto the floor.

"What the bloody hell?" she gasped in shock, leaping up from her undignified sprawl. She was dreaming about Draco Malfoy?! And judging from the state of her panties, she had enjoyed it. A lot.

Running nerveless fingers through her greasy hair, she paced to the kitchen and back distractedly. How could she look him in the eye? She agonized, halfheartedly glancing at the clock, and cursed loudly at the time.

After a quick shower, she dressed and flew to the Tube. Thankfully right on time, she pushed through the window that sported a sign 'Closed for Refurbishment', and soon found herself walking into the front vestibule of st. Mungo's, and nodding to the Welcome Witch, proceeded up the stairs to Healer Malfoy's office. Straightening her robes, and clenching her jaw, she rapped on the door resolutely, her traitorous mind supplying a perfect picture of Draco's muscled body pinning her to his desk, his breath hot on her throat...

Healer Malfoy opened the door, rubbing distractedly at his temple, his face had taken on the grayish hue of exhaustion and pain. Lenore gaped at him, an ugly blush staining her cheeks darkly.

"What do you want, Darrington," he asked sharply.

"I-I just wanted to know what duties you wanted me to do for you-" she stuttered awkwardly, noticing the wince he gave at her voice. She caught sight of several empty alcohol bottles laying on the desk, and Draco's white robes were heavily wrinkled.

Catching the line of her gaze, a muscle in his cheek twitched heavily, and he stepped into her personal space with surprisingly little problem. She could smell the alcohol on his breath as it warmed her cheek. Her breath hitched, and she realized muzzily that he was inebriated.

"Not unless it involves you being on your knees," he replied softly, his voice venomous. He nipped her ear. Cursing how hard her heart hammered a tattoo within her ribcage, she pushed him back into his office, closing the door behind her.

She backed him until he hit his desk, rattling the empty bottles. Her wand pushed under his jaw, dimpling the smooth, pale skin, scratching against the stubble that was already growing there. Anger and disgust had quickly replaced her momentary arousal, and her hand shook.

His gray eyes were dead. He laughed breathlessly. "Do it," he mocked her. "You will be doing me a favor. So use it. Use the Unforgivable Curses. Every single one; make me suffer," he laughed. "I know you've dreamed about killing me."

Lenore stared at him, the wand slipping from his throat. "Moderatus abstemia," she commanded softly, touching his forehead.

Turning, she walked away. There was the sound of a bottle shattering to the floor, and she turned around to look at Draco, now sober due to her spells, and his expression was unreadable.

"Get some rest, Doctor," she asserted firmly, her voice utterly professional. "You have a long day ahead of you."

And with a swish of robes, Lenore was gone.