3 Days Later…

St. Mungo's Hospital Second Floor was receiving a steady flow in incoming patients with Dragon Pox. Though it is not a disease anyone should wish on anyone, many Healers were at least pleased to find that the fair majority of patients were young children. These cases are, in many cases, much less severe and are able to recover the quickest. However, there have been cases that have met tragic endings for 2 elderly wizards. The older the patient with the disease, the more severe, and in some cases deadly, it can become.

The Healers in charge of these cases are extra cautious. Potions have been invented to help keep it from spreading, but there is no known cure. Many of the Healers in these wards have contracted the disease themselves in their youth, but, similar to Chicken Pox, after you catch it once, it won't happen again. This makes them perfect to care for others without fear.

One trainee Healer was pleased about the amount of experience he was getting in this department and how much help he had been to a few sick kids. Though raised with more pride than some would tolerate, Draco Malfoy chose to work here to see if he could better himself as well as work on his family's poor reputation since the war (along with the fact that the Ministry would not give him a job until "further investigations have been completed". Meaning "the Malfoys have to prove their worth to the Ministry now"). Even now, a year later, he still got angry glances and snide comments from some incoming patients. At first, when this occurred, Malfoy would draw himself up and think up a rude retort. Now, however, Malfoy was growing quieter in the public eye. When someone would burst out about his family's involvement with You-Know-Who, he had trained himself not to respond, though a dirty look would likely make an appearance.

It was by no means his "dream job". In fact, he wondered whether or not he would continue this line of work after a couple of years. However, his great marks in Potions and the open volunteer system at the hospital helped him at least make it to "trainee" level. If anything, it's a respectable position.

This week, Draco has found himself working overtime. He was finally able to go home the day before yesterday for a well-needed day off. He had just arrived when Healer Martha Jorkinson caught sight of him.

"Ah! Draco! I'm glad you're here. We have a few more patients likely about to check in."

"Alright," he replied about to head out the door. As a trainee, Malfoy was restricted on what he can and cannot do regarding the patients. One thing he has found himself doing most of the time is checking people in and administering minor potions.

"Hold on!" She called before he walked out. He waited, holding the door open with a clipboard in hand. "There is one patient waiting to be seen who, apparently, doesn't want to give his name to the receptionist. Would you mind taking care of him first? He's in a big hooded cloak."

This sounded suspicious.

"…Okay."

Malfoy made his way down the hall wondering what this patient was going to be like. Perhaps the rough scales that had likely formed caused him/her to feel embarrassed. However, that doesn't explain why they wouldn't give a name. When he reached the waiting area, his eyes quickly found the person in question. A hooded figure hunched over on a chair shaking and coughing roughly. Upon seeing the people accompanying him, though, Malfoy figured out rather quickly.

A small swarm of red-headed people were standing and sitting around the cloaked figure, holding his hand, rubbing his back and speaking words of comfort. A bushy brown-haired girl was standing close as well, looking sympathetically at the figure.

Malfoy stood frozen in the doorway. This would be a difficult encounter. If a number of the Weasley family and Granger were here, then he knew exactly whose face was under the hood and why he hadn't given his name. It was hard enough facing the number of patients who knew his name, but these were his old classmates, his old rivals.

After a short pause, which no one in the waiting room had noticed, Malfoy slowly walked forward. If he's going to do this, he would have to make it at painless as possible.

"Hello," he greeted in a low voice.

The Weasleys turned. All of their eyes went wide with unsatisfied recognition.

"What?" growled Ron, gaping at his lime green robe (the standard uniform at St. Mungo's) "Malfoy? What the hell are you doing here?"

Malfoy simply blinked, trying to keep his face expressionless.

"I work here now," he replied simply.

"Well, take your work elsewhere!" Ron hissed indignantly. He turned to the woman at the counter. "Get us someone else!"

"Ron!" Hermione grabbed his arm to try and calm him down.

The woman behind the counter had seen this kind of behavior before when Malfoy offered to help. She had seen Malfoy's work and was relatively pleased with him. Therefore, she ignored Ron, trusting Malfoy to handle it.

"Why are you here?" Ron asked with a sneer. "Aren't you scared you'll get sick? Wouldn't want anyone sneezing on you, would you?"

Malfoy blinked again.

"I caught Dragon Pox when I was 5. I can't catch it again."

Malfoy looked down at the hooded figure. He hadn't looked up during any of this. The Weasley girl was holding his hand as hand as he coughed violently. Mrs. Weasley looked nervous.

"Ron, now is not the time!" she hissed at her son. "He needs help-"

"And you think he's gonna get it from him?" Ron asked jabbing his thumb at Malfoy. "What are you doing?"

Malfoy had knelt down in front of the cloaked person, attempting to look at his condition, but before he could raise the hood, Ron shoved him. Several people stared and the woman behind the counter made to stand up.

"Ronald!" Hermione yelled, grabbing Ron by the shoulders. "Just stop!"

Ron glared at Malfoy as he got himself to his feet. His blood was boiling but he had to watch himself. He gazed back determinately into Ron's eyes.

He spoke slowly.

"I need to see how severe it has gotten."

Ron waved Hermione off of him and walked right up to Malfoy so they were an inch apart.

"If you're really here to 'do your job', then leave it at that. He's been through enough the past few days and the last thing he needs is the Prophet flashing photos of him or you giving him a hard time because of this." Ron was whispering so the crowd around them couldn't hear.

Malfoy nodded stiffly and Ron, still glaring at him, stepped back.

He got back down on his knees in front of the patient. He was still shaking, his breathing was uneven. Slowly, he lifted the hood high enough to see.

There were two large, rough scales that had formed on his neck and around his left temple. He was very pale and clammy. He had obviously not eaten in the past few days, for he looked even skinnier than usual. There were great bags under his emerald eyes. They looked up at him slowly.

For a second, they just stared at each other. Malfoy had a number of things going on in his head, from what needed to be treated and how to imagining the rough time this person has had since he started feeling ill.

He noted that, as he looked into his eyes, there was almost no emotion. There was no resentment, anger, or even dislike, which Malfoy had often seen when their eyes met. Here, all he could see was exhaustion and pain. He could tell that he knew who was helping him, but he seemed beyond caring.

Malfoy stood and wrote on his clipboard. The Weasleys watched silently, waiting to see what he would do. When he finished, he looked up.

"Okay," he began, regaining his composure as a Healer in training. "If you would come with me, I can take you back. This will likely take at least a few days, so we will go ahead and set you up in a room. Healer McMillon will see you there."

Harry nodded under the cloak and slowly stood. Ginny helped him.

"We'll see you as soon as we can," Ginny said patting his arm. She wanted to hug him, but some of the scales on his back were really painful. "Don't hesitate to write."

"Feel better, mate," Ron added lowly. He gave an added glare to Malfoy as if to say "you'd better lay off."

Mrs. Weasley stepped in front of him and lifted the hood lightly so she could see his face. Her eyes shined with unshed tears.

"Don't you worry, Harry. You'll be back on your broom before you know it." She gave him an encouraging smile, which he returned weakly. He was so tired.

She squeezed his hand and watched him walk beside Malfoy down the hall to the Dragon Pox Ward.