Chapter two: Itch
"We need to ask you a favour."
"Don't. You know I hate doing favours."
"This is a favour you're going to want to do. Trust me."
"That important, is it?"
"You need to find him. You know who I mean. You always wanted to get involved, now's your chance."
"...Fine."
"Good. Thanks, darling."
"Yeah, love you too," she sneered.
He opened his eyes. He found himself in a white room with white walls and a white floor. The bed he was in was made of iron and, surprisingly, it had white sheets. He tried sitting up but found out it wasn't a very good idea. His head started to spin so he raised his hand up to rest it on. He was surprised again when he realised his head was bandaged.
'Where am I?' he thought slowly.
He hoisted his legs over the edge of the bed and let his feet touch the cold stone floor. He could hear some vague noises outside the door.
"Now let's see..." he said to himself.
He leaned his entire weight on his feet and stood up slowly, pulling himself up by a bedpole. He listened to the voices outside, which were a lot clearer now.
"I can't do it, sir..."
"Just get in there. It's not like something like this is never going to happen again. If you continue to work in this profession, it's only normal that you'll run into some people you know, whether it's the milkman or your best friend."
"But I always thought we weren't allowed to treat people we know. That it would mean too much conflict of interest."
"That's Law Enforcement, love. Not medicine. Now just get in there."
He backed away from the door and climbed back into his bed. Looking at the bandages around his wrists, he wondered what the hell had happened to him. When the door opened, he stared at the ceiling fixedly.
"Good morning." said a female voice.
He just couldn't help noticing a small hint of a hesitant tone. The woman bit her lip and kept her eyes on the ground. Slowly he turned his head aside to look at her. She was rather pretty, with brown curly hair that reached her shoulders. She looked back at him, almost as if she expected him to say something.
He stared back at her curiously, with a hint of vague annoyance. "What?"
"Nothing," she said quickly. "I just thought- I mean, I didn't expect-"
"Expect what? This is a hospital, right? Don't you tend to get injured people here?"
"Well, yes," she said. "I just never thought I'd see you in here."
His annoyed look vanished.
"What do you mean?" he said.
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Look, do you know me or something? Because you're starting to annoy me with this stupid talking of yours."
The woman said nothing, though she kept staring at him with a confused look in her eyes. Her pensiveness indicated she was asking herself a lot of questions concerning him, but she voiced none of them. Suddenly she turned around and walked towards the window. As if looking for something to do, she opened it. Then, at once, apparently realising it was still mid-winter, she closed it again with a bang and turned around again.
"If you think you can have a good laugh at my expense then you're wrong," she said confidently.
He rolled his eyes. "Listen lady. I have never seen you before. All I want is some- Hey!"
Before he had had the chance to finish his sentence she had turned around and fled the room. He watched her bump into someone in a set of lime-green robes, matching her own.
"Granger?" the man asked confused.
"Healer Samuels!" she squealed.
"What are you-"
"Sorry, sir! No time, I've got to-"
The last half of her sentence was lost as she bolted down the corridor. The man who was apparently called Samuels looked straight at him and shook his head. He looked back stubbornly. But when the Healer walked on, he leaned on his elbows and looked at the ceiling once more.
'Granger, huh?' he thought slowly.
Didn't that name ring a bell? Perhaps...All he could say now was that she was intimidated by his presence.
'Handsome as I must be, I'm probably a heart-breaker.' he thought with a satisfied smile.
Hermione paced around the changing room. What was he playing at? Was he pulling her leg? Or was he just amusing himself by pretending not to know her? This was definitely some set-up to mess with her mind, she was certain of that. Well, she'd just get back at him.
'But why, though?' she thought worriedly. 'Why would a Death Eater spend his time on a joke? And why would he have mutilated his body just to trick me?'
It didn't make sense. To be perfectly honest, he had looked so lonely. Lost, even. She was going to have to find out what he was trying to do. She flexed her fingers and then curled her hands into fists with a determined face. She was Hermione Granger and she could take care of herself. She straightened her robes and headed back with a determined look.
"So!" she said loudly when she strode into his room.
"So!" he echoed, looking back at her as though he was thouroughly enjoying annoying her.
'That does seem like the Malfoy I remember,' she thought bitterly.
"Came back so soon?" he asked with a smirk. "I knew you would. You just couldn't resist."
She placed her hands on her hips. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but you annoyed me enough when we were at school. There's no need to make up for lost time."
He sighed again. "I told you earlier, I've never seen you before!"
"Really? Because I remember you hexing my teeth, I remember you calling me a Mudblood over and over, I remember nearly breaking your jaw and I vividly remember you being turned into a ferret by a teacher. Funny how I can remember all that without having seen you before," she sneered.
She had hoped to see a twitch or a glare at the mention of the ferret-incident, but his face didn't change. He merely looked bored.
"For all I know you're making this up. And, frankly, I'm really not that interested."
She gritted her teeth.
"So you don't remember anything?" she asked haughtily. "Not even your name?"
"A Malfoy doesn't forget his name," he answered coolly.
"So you do remember something! I knew you were just having me on! Forget it, I'm leaving."
"Hey Granger!" he yelled as she wanted to storm off again. "It doesn't mean anything if I just remember a name, right?"
"Sure, whatever. And I suppose you heard mine from a passer-by. Goodbye Malfoy."
"...I read my chart," he said slowly. "...I don't remember what happened to me, but I came here in a pretty bad shape, didn't I. I don't know what I've done in the past to piss you off...but thank you for helping me."
For a split second she allowed a smile to wash over her face. But when she realised, she stepped out the door and disappeared around the corner. The door closed with a bang behind her, leaving him behind in a deafening silence.
He grinned, not quite sure why, and slipped off the bed again. This time he wadled through the room as best he could.
There were no 'get well soon' cards, no flowers or any other token that bore message like that.
"Doesn't anyone miss me?" he said loudly, feeling hugely disappointed and surprised.
But then again, he had to admit that he couldn't remember anyone who ought to be missing him. He walked over to the window and stared at the snow outside. A few kids were on the ground below, playing and laughing. Annoyed, he turned away again. This time he stared at the bottom end of his bed.
There hung his chart and curious to find out more about what was going on he reached for it and lifted it of its hook. Flipping through it casually, browsing for something he might have overlooked before, he sauntered over to the mirror next to his bed and looked at himself.
As he had discovered before, he had a big bandage around his head, and one around both his wrists and even one that covered his entire lower left arm. Other than that, he cleaned up pretty nice, in his own opinion. The hospital shirt didn't flatter him, though.
Turning his attention to the chart again, he flipped back to the first page.
'Malfoy, Draco.' he read. So now he also knew his first name. He skimmed through the pages, but they were tactfully covered with medical terms he didn't understand. The last page was something that caught his eye. There was a small drawing in the top right corner made up of a lot of strange lines and circles. It looked somewhat mystical...and also vaguely familiar.
But why it was in his chart, and what it had to do with him, he didn't know. He looked at himself in the mirror again, scratching at the bandage around his left arm. Something underneath it seemed to be itching. But the bandage had been bound so tight that he couldn't get it loose.
He went back to his bed, placed the chart back on its peg and lied down, having nothing else to do but stare at the ceiling in boredom.
He placed an arm around her waist as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Why are you so tense?"
"Oh..." she said slowly, "I don't know really. It's been so long since we last saw him."
"Yeah..." Ron grinned, "for you, at least."
She smiled. "I almost forgot you see him everyday...You never really mention him."
"Because Ginny does that enough already. Now come on, they're not going to bite you. If he cherished an inclination to do that, he would have done it back at school."
He knocked on the door in front of them. Ginny opened it and she greeted them warmly.
"Come on in, the salmon is almost done."
Hermione kissed her cheek and sidled into the hallway to put away her cloak. Ron followed, after having hugged his sister.
"Ron! Hermione!"
Hermione turned around. "...Harry! You look...different," she said with a shy giggle.
His face resembled that of Moody now more than his own. There was a chunk of his nose missing too, but luckily he still had both his own eyes. His cheeks were heavily scarred for someone still so young, but being an Auror wasn't an occupation known to be good for your health.
Harry grinned. "Shocked to see me like this?"
"A little," Hermione admitted as she reached out and touched the bandages on his face and neck.
"Ran into one of the Parkinson brothers," he explained. "Had a spot of trouble with him."
Ginny pushed the lot of them into the kitchen and seated them at a beautifully laid out table. "I'm used to it now. But you should have heard me scream the first time he came home like that."
Ron grinned, but Hermione had a worried frown on her face.
"Let me have a look at that," she said quietly. "Do you have any more cuts like those?"
"Just the one on my chest."
Hermione whipped out her wand and pointed it at him. "Go on, then. Take that shirt off."
"Why Hermione, not in front of my wife!" he exclaimed.
Ginny snorted and quickly headed back to check on their dinner in the oven. Hermione shook her head, trying to ignore the fact that she was going red slightly.
"Just do it, you'll thank me later," she said curtly.
At this, Ron also ducked into the kitchen, leaving a grinning Harry behind in the capable hands of his fiancee.