AN: As I slowly get back into writing, I expect my writing style will change around quite a lot until I find something that sits right with me. Don't murder me as I experiment XD Chapter lengths will probably start getting longer too, as I'm starting to finally figure out exactly how much progress I need in each chapter so this story doesn't have 92734901 of them. /drabble.
Saye = say-ee. Rhymes with Hawaii, and coincidentally, Hermione (just realized that).
Angry Hermione swears lots (:
THANK YOU for your reviews ^^
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR, and is only allowed out to play with the plotbunny
- CHAPTER FOUR -
Intervention, Progress, and then some
The next day, Hermione had woken late enough that she wasn't going to be able to meet up with Louthe before work, but early enough that she had ten minutes before she was due outside her office. However, according to someone, it was enough time for her to bump into Malfoy on her way back from the lavatory. They did more or less ignore each other; Malfoy smirked and Hermione rolled her eyes, but nothing verbal passed between the two. It was a fragile peace, and unfortunately didn't last quite as long as Hermione had hoped. Who knew that patient 885 would be another vomiter, and who knew that Malfoy didn't know, and who knew 885 had particularly good aim when it came to chucking?
Complete disaster aside, Madame Louthe ended up pulling the two out of the patient room, and barking at two healers standing by to do the job instead. She pushed them into her office, too classy to look livid, and instead quailed indignantly as she told them off. They refused to look at each other. Hermione, because she knew she wouldn't be able to stop getting angry at Malfoy if she had to look at his face, and Malfoy, because Ganger was seriously the most righteous bitch he'd ever had the displeasure of having to meet, and not be able to get rid of.
She frowned at their stormy expressions. "This is hardly acceptable behavior. To think that you're under my tutelage! Do you insist to act like spoilt little children, fighting over god knows what?"
"Well, he's had seven years to change, so it's not really going to suddenly start now is it?" Hermione was tired. She didn't like feeling so whiny, but…
"You're not a saint, Granger, and you're not always right. Stop pretending you are, so I don't have to puke whenever you open that horrid trap." He shot back.
Louthe waved her hand at both of them. "Shut up, the both of you." She sounded tired, in an annoyed way. "Such sharp, clever minds, yet so intent on blindly gouging each other to death. If you two can't get along, then I'm afraid one of you will have to go."
The pause was very short.
"That'll make everything so much easier."
"Who says you're not going to be the one leaving?"
"Excuse me? You think, with your sloppy work and horrible attitude that you're going to be kept on?"
"The size of your head is inflating to dangerous proportions. Be careful, the next step might be exploding. But hey, I'm not complaining."
"Enough." Louthe stood up, and had whipped out her wand threateningly. The two of them sat back meekly. "If you two do not start getting along – don't give me that look Mr. Malfoy – by tomorrow, you are both out of the job. I will also personally make sure if either of you attempt to enter a career of healing, that any future employer will know how much of a disaster you've made of this case." She sat back on her plush chair, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Now."
There was a long silence. Hermione even glanced at Malfoy, expecting lightning to hit or something fabulous like that. But Madame Louthe just continued to stare at them, her stern gaze never wavering, though they sensed deep deliberation behind her stare. Hermione found herself admiring the woman's polished desk, and inspecting all the titles in the shelf behind her head. Anything but to stare back into those grey depths.
"Madame?"
She tilted her head slightly. Malfoy looked as surly as ever, but the impatience was taking over. She sighed, and shook her head. She fixed her eyes on Malfoy. "Impatient, sly, deceitful." She turned to Hermione before either of them had any time to say anything, "Boastful, and too rigid in your methods. I'm going to take this one, very big chance on you two, because I still have some faith in what you've got behind those personalities. However, if you screw this up, I will do everything in my power to make your lives a living hell." Walking around the table, she gestured for them to follow her. They did, and wordlessly, not knowing where the woman was going with this.
Madame Louthe led them only a short way down the hall. Aside from her office, and their adjoining… space, they hadn't opened any of the other six doors in the corridor, though Hermione knew the rooms held patients. Louthe tapped her wand against the lock on the door farthest down the hall, which piqued Hermione's curiosity – what patient door would have a lock on it? She tried to brace herself, but for what exactly she couldn't picture.
The only thing bigger than a chair and table in the room was the bed – and the tiny, tiny girl sleeping on it. She heard Malfoy inhale sharply, and saw him shoot a furtive look towards Madame Louthe. The woman was very slowly approaching the bed, ignoring him, and Malfoy had stopped walking altogether. There was a reverence about him, and Madame Louthe, she didn't understand. Feeling out of the loop, Hermione shadowed Louthe's steps, peeking over the older woman's shoulder at the serene figure peacefully asleep on the white sheets.
She looked like Malfoy. It was the first thought that popped into her head. Ice blonde hair, though curly, fanned out delicately around her face, as if it had been carefully arranged. Her delicate features were marred by a small bruise to her forehead, an ugly black-blue that contrasted starkly against her pale skin. But there was something… wrong, unhealthy, about her. As she looked at the girl again, Hermione could say that the paleness wasn't like Malfoy's, in that while his skin seemed just extremely fair, this girl looked like she was ill. There was a translucent quality, and under sunlight it might've helped her look angelic, but under strobe lighting it just made her look sickly. Lips slightly parted, the only indication of life was the gentle rise and fall of her breath. Hermione found herself holding her own breath.
"This is Saye." Madame Louthe murmured. "An extremely special patient."
Three things registered immediately. First, they had been given a name for this girl. She wasn't to become patient eight hundred and something, which in turn said a lot about exactly how permanent her stay at St. Mungo's was. Second, the woman no longer appeared strict, rigidly professional. Louthe had melted into a motherly stance, bending over the girl protectively. Third, she actually said 'special' patient. Hermione glanced at Malfoy, but instead of seeing the cynical sneer she had been expecting, he was staring at the girl with unguarded eyes, with something red and raw swimming just under the surface. She looked away quickly, something rising in her throat that made her balk.
Madame Louthe straightened, and stared at them both. Her gaze regained some of its usual stiffness, but her voice never rose above a gentle whisper. "Until you two can sort yourselves out, I will have you monitoring, helping, and answering to Saye. I will hand over all responsibility of the girl to you. Let's see if that doesn't change your attitudes some. I suppose the unpredictable climate of dozens of new patients everyday can't possibly help either of you settle. I will say that if her condition deteriorates in any way while under your care, you will be suspended until a proper enquiry can be held to determine the exact cause."
She was certainly grasping the seriousness and weight of the responsibility that had just been placed on her – on them - though Hermione was confused as to how spending more time with Malfoy was meant to help them understand each other, considering it was the reason for all their bickering in the first place. Still, Hermione found herself not protesting, instead walking forward a little more to look at the girl. Her eyelids flickered, and the small mouth was pushed down into a delicate frown.
"She's dreaming."
Malfoy's voice breathed into her ear. He sounded so close. And maybe it was something bewitching in the air, or the strange aura that clung to them all, but she didn't step away, or push him away. He just wanted a closer look at her too.
That's all.
.
The initial surprise and general excitement of a new project wore off quickly. Madame Louthe had said that their sole responsibility was to look after the girl, but she did little but sleep most of the time. Hermione had been worried, because the little girl rarely opened her eyes enough for water, much less food, and things like showers and bathroom breaks never actually happened on her watch (she assumed they were completed during early morning or late night hours…?). No one touched the girl when she slept, and she never woke to complain about hunger or thirst. However, Saye's unconscious state left much silence to be filled by the other two conscious people in the room.
The up side to attending a sleeping patient was that they didn't dare to raise their voices. So while their bickering was almost constant, one or both would get tired and slightly embarrassed from whispering so furiously and would instead fall into a silence in which they saw their annoyance conveyed better. It allowed Hermione a lot more time to just stare angrily at Malfoy, instead having to shout angrily too. He never seemed to be ruffled after an argument, however heated. His snappy mouth was the only thing incensed; the rest of him stayed perfectly pale and perfectly calm. He'd fold his long arms across his chest, and stare out the window, while she waited for the bright colour in her cheeks to fade and her agitated breathing to calm. She found that these silences were more embarrassing than being outsmarted by whatever line of attack Malfoy had used that particular day. She saw him placing himself so much above her, as he rose above their squabbles to remain as aloof as ever, as she got flustered every time they sparred. It agonized her too, that she couldn't take him down a notch by being as aloof as he was.
The first time Saye woke up in their presence (two days after they had first been introduced), Hermione had been torn between excitement and surprise. While she had been trying to get her emotions under control, Malfoy had gotten up, handed the girl a glass of water, and watched her sip it slightly before her eyelids fluttered and she fell asleep again. It was over so quickly, and no one had said anything, Hermione had to blink a few times - she might've pinched herself as well - to make sure that she hadn't just imagined it. But then Malfoy snickered at her expression, and put the glass of water back on the table, and she had a reason to be embarrassed all over again.
Next time was better. Malfoy had been across the room, reading a book, when the girl stirred in her sleep, and opened one eye briefly. Hermione stood up.
"Hi there, how are you feeling?" she asked, making sure Saye could see her easily.
She blinked at Hermione, and then half sat up to look at Malfoy sitting on the floor, who had raised his head at Hermione's voice. The little girl's face lit up with a smile, and she made to speak. But she closed it again before she said anything, and replaced the smile with a frown. Hermione had the distinct feeling she was looking at the wall behind her head, instead of at her.
Then she did speak. "Why are you being difficult?" It was oddly condescending, especially coming from a stranger.
"I…" Hermione looked at Malfoy. He shrugged. She turned back to Saye. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about."
She sighed, a weary sound, before settling back into the pillows. "Hurry up," she murmured quietly, before drifting off again.
Hermione was baffled. "What on earth was that about?"
Malfoy closed his book. Hermione didn't like the look in his eye. He looked at her as though she was missing something very obvious, and he was such a royal pain when he turned out to be right. "Haven't you heard about Saye?"
"Should I have?"
He sighed, his disappointment mocking. "Really, Granger. One would have to think you don't care about any of the other patients in the hospital."
"You read their medical records?" She asked, surprise and a growing amount of outrage on her face.
He waved her off. "Whatever. My point is that this is Saye. Or Sarah Yeen. No bells?"
Hermione shook her head slowly as her brain ploughed through a legion of names she had come across during reading. She'd come across precious little material had centered around (or even mentioned) little girls and close to none about any still little or alive today. Malfoy folded his arms again. "Let's do this slowly then. What floor are we on?"
"Psychological wards, fifth degree." She replied irritably. "Can't you even try to be a decent person? Just for a few minutes, I swear."
He ignored her, and continued. "Correct. Fifth degree. Which means, this little girl, Saye, here…?"
"Has suffered some kind of magical-psychological head trauma in which effects are not only long lasting but complete cause, effect and extent of damage is unknown." She recited impatiently. "What's your point?"
"Louthe called her special. How more special can you get in a fifth degree psyc ward? There's a squib grandma next door who's so skilled in Legilimency she could've picked the Dark Lord's brain outs. There's another woman here who adopts random pseudo-identities, which have recently been proven to be of real, live wizards walking and talking today, and I've even heard rumors that behind door six there's a man who's seemingly mute for no reason, but all he does is try to scream and rage around and break things without touching them." Malfoy's eyes lost their mocking light, and grew intense. Hermione didn't look away, knowing that he wasn't just pulling her around.
"Get to the point, Malfoy," she whispered, not breaking their eye contact. A quiet corner of her mind wondered how he knew all this and she didn't know any of it, which means he didn't get all this from Louthe herself… She would ask him later.
Malfoy's voice brought her back. It had lowered dramatically. "They think she can see the future."
There was one beat of silence, and then Hermione made an irritated noise and leaned away from him. "I know Trelawney was a god awful Divination teacher Malfoy, but Seers do actually exist." She said blithely.
He was suddenly, inexplicably, extremely angry. He grabbed her arm. "Don't treat me like an idiot Granger, and do not lecture me about the wizarding world. Don't think that your little books give you any idea what growing up here is like." His hiss was very soft, and... deadly.
"I've been in this world since eleven, I think it's safe to say that I've pretty much grown up here too." She snapped back, trying to not show her nervousness at his hostility.
He pushed her aside, disgust on his face. "Keep talking shit, Granger, because no one's listening. If you really grew up here, you'd know that I would've said Seer if I was talking about the same thing."
"What else could you have meant?" She argued, frustrated.
But Malfoy had strode out of the room, angrier than she had ever seen him, and for once, with a pink tinge to those high cheekbones. She blinked at his sudden absence, and then frowned to herself. She turned towards Saye, but the girl had activated her strange and currently highly annoying talent of being able to sleep at will. She suddenly found herself wishing she hadn't pissed Malfoy off – she was curious now, and there was no one to relieve her of it. She walked over to the chair by the bedside, and settled down.
Saye's features twitched slightly as Hermione studied her face. The bruise – Louthe hadn't told her how she had gotten it – was slowly starting to fade in uneven patches. Without thinking, Hermione reached over and brushed a strand of her hair out of the way, accidentally bumping the purple skin with her knuckles.
Saye's eyes snapped open. Hermione had one second to see her pupils contract to tiny dots before her mouth opened to release a bloodcurdling scream.
She looked up in time to see Malfoy and three healers explode into the room, but the nextsecond disjointed images hit her like something solid, thoughts and memories that weren't hers, jamming themselves all at once into her head like knives and hammers and drills and all with a crippling pain that had her on her knees but the images just kept coming and all she could see were flashing yellow eyes and fangs and ripping claws and blood and light, all chased by a terror so strong she could feel it throbbing on her tongue and it blocked out half of the thoughts that weren't hers but she was trying to think anyway and that heavy mass of terror was also eating at her vision and leaving black chunks in places where she should've been able to see the hospital wall and Malfoy's face and -
Her eyes felt like they were trying to crawl out of her skull. They strained to open wider, wider, but never wide enough because she still couldn't see past that black wall of fear. Clutching her head, Hermione heard voices as if whispering to her from the other side of a door so she told them she couldn't hear them because there was this screaming that wouldn't stop and it was blocking out all the other sounds and –
And it all stopped.
.
It was a strange feeling, waking up.
Her skin crawled if she so much as twitched a finger. Muscles groaned as she flickered her eyelids. Even her face felt stiff.
A strange face swam into focus.
"...ne? Can you hear me? Hey!"
The strange face had a stranger expression on its face – worry. Was that directed at her? How odd.
She tried sitting up. Bad idea – she got halfway and then sank back down again. She blindly tried again – and there was a hand to support her this time. Strange, that a single hand could help so much. She raised a sore arm to rub her sore eyes. She felt like she hadn't been able to move for weeks.
"Wha'appened?" she mumbled.
The strange face made an annoyed sound. Then another dizzy spell hit her, and she only caught the end of his sentence. "...ou're impossible."
She frowned, peering blearily at the strange face, determined to put a name to such rudeness. One shaking hand went out, to trace out high cheekbones, a straight nose, a frown, and soft lips.
"...n the seven hells are you doing?"
She recognized that voice. "Malfoy!" she gasped, leaping backwards. Well, she was expecting there to be a backwards, but there wasn't, and all she did was slam her sore head against the wall. She gurgled a pain noise, drawing her legs up to cradle her head.
"Stop moving," he snapped at her, pulling her towards him. When he let go again, she was leaning back into a pillow.
"Ah. M'kay. Than'gyu." She tried opening her mouth wider, to stop herself slurring. "Thank you. You." She smiled, pleased at her progress. Her eyesight was clearing too. How she didn't know that it was Malfoy... His current expression was one torn between sarcasm and humour. She tried rolling her eyes, but they only got halfway there.
"So, um. What happened?"
"You're asking me what happened?" He sounded incredulous, she couldn't check his face to be sure because he had jostled her and things were all blurry again.
"But. Um, I heard... Ow. Screaming."
He gave her a funny look. "That was you."
Ah. That would explain the sore throat. "And Saye? She okay?"
"Back to sleeping."
"Where am I?"
"Office."
She noted that, as she got better, his answers were less forthcoming and more clipped. She shuffled, and found that she could sit up normally. Next would be to try –
"Oh, no you don't." He pushed her back down. "Tell me what happened."
"Let me stand up," she said irritably, trying to push herself up.
But even with both hands, she couldn't fight the strength he had in that one. How... weak. Sighing, she gave up for the time being. Her head was starting to pound again. She tried to remember what had just happened. "Um, I just touched her. Then –"
Flash. A roaring filled her ears. It started again. Yellow. Fear. Scream. Light. Not right.
Not right.
Run.
"-p! He-! Oi- oursef under – ol!"
Words?
Something hit the side of her face, and Hermione jerked back with a loud gasp. She tried focusing her eyesight again, on those grey eyes that looked like storm clouds. A violent tremor racked her. "What-t th-the hell?" she forced through her rattling teeth.
Malfoy snorted. "Don't do that again." He was pinning her to the wall, his hands on both of her arms.
"Er..." She blinked, hard. "What happened that time?"
"Aside from having a fit? You tried to claw my eyes out. Are you going to stop asking the questions you're meant to be answering?"
Pause. Giggle. She covered her face with her hands, and choked on the sudden laughter rushing up from her throat.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you lucid? Compos mentis? Hello?"
"I think," She panted, "I'm hysterical. I think." She thought about it, then laughed again.
"Great." He said sourly. "Bloody fantastic. Stop laughing, tell me what happened before those Healers outside the room storm in and strap you to a gurney and force Veritaserum down your throat."
That shut her up. She frowned as she tried to think back to... how long ago was that? "I... just touched her. Really. I... brushed back her hair, and I think I bumped the bruise on her forehead."
"Okay, you touched her bruise." He repeated slowly. "What happened next?"
"Um... she started screaming. And then..."
Flash. Blood.
Flash. No,not here. Have to-
"-ione! Shit, ow! Get a fucking grip on yourself!"
Snapping back, she found herself thrashing against his grip. Gasping for air, she chanted to try and calm herself down. Once her eyes stopped rolling in her sockets, she looked up at Malfoy. And the bleeding scratches down his cheek. "Oh, crap." He looked kinda pissed off. "Er. Sorry?"
"If you even try doing that again," He spat to the side, something red mixing with the saliva. She grimaced, looking away. "If you do, I'm gonna Stun you, and leave you here."
She bit her lip. He frowned at her.
"Flashbacks?"
"I think?"
"Do you want to try again?"
She thought about it. "Do you want to be this close?"
He laughed blackly. "What's a few more scratches? Get on with the bloody story." He wiped his cheek. "No pun intended."
She rubbed her eyes. "Okay. I saw things. I don't know what they were. Like pictures flashing at you too fast. And a lot of screaming, and fear. Oh god, the fear -"
"Hey. No." He shook her, hard. "You're not going crazy again."
His face was too close, she and she was having a hard enough time regulating her eyesight already. She peered blearily at him. "You're too close."
He looked surprised, then something, then went blank. He dropped his arms and walked to the other side of the room. "Far enough?"
She frowned up at him. "Did I say something wrong?"
He opened and closed his mouth, twice. Then sighed. "Is that all? Can you tell me what you saw?"
"I... don't know." She rubbed her temples. "I can't think. I feel funny." She moaned.
"Quit whining." He snapped. "This is serious."
She froze for a second. And then something in her snapped. She swore she heard it. "Fine. Fine. You go through what I just did, and let's see if you whine or not!" Shouting was making her head hurt, but she didn't seem to be able to stop now that she'd started. "You know, you're such a pain in the fucking arse, Malfoy. For once in this whole miserable situation can you just try to be nice to me so I feel like I'm not wasting my time trying so hard to be nice to you? Because that's what it feels like. I'm trying and trying, and you don't care at all and sometimes, that really gets to me. Why don't you care?" She stopped, because the throbbing in her temple threatened to burst a vein. Then she groaned. "Now I am whining. Are you happy now? Are you fucking happy?"
There was another silence. And then he started... laughing. She looked up furiously, her scowl thunderous.
"God, Granger." Was all he said.
"Explain." she asked sourly.
Malfoy shook his head, before pointing his wand at his own face and healing the scrapes, still chuckling. He brought over some tissues, took her hand and started wiping the blood off there. She felt disorientated again. "Where did those come from?"
"My face, and yours."
She felt around, and sure enough, there were gashes along her hairline too. They stung as she brushed them. "Fuck. Ow."
Malfoy laughed again, and murmured the healing spell to close the cut on her face too. She wondered at the blood on her hand for a minute, as he dabbed it away. Then she leaned over, and licked it.
Just once.
She froze, and looked up at Malfoy. He was watching her too, surprise skittering across his face. Another pause. But he finished wiping without saying anything, and stood up to throw the tissues away. She stared at her hand, as if something ugly had grown out of one finger and had taken a bite out of the other.
"That was..." she mused to herself. Well. Interesting.
"Ready?" he asked.
She looked up. "For what?"
"Well, standing up. Then facing the crowd out there." He waved at the door. She could see silhouettes moving around behind the rippled glass.
"Um, no. How about we just stay here and you don't open that."
He gave her another funny look. "You want me to do what?"
Hermione waved at him impatiently. Why wouldn't that buzzing go away? "Just... don't open the door. Come sit here." She patted the hard floor beside her dementedly. Malfoy looked at her like she was demented too, but after a while, did come and sit.
There was another little silence. Hermione hung her head, waiting for the buzzing and the pounding to go away. Neither of them said anything, and she marveled at the silence. Silence, just because they had nothing to say, not because one or both of them were too choked up with anger or frustration – or both – to say anything else. The silence was beautiful. She sighed, and it was a happy, relieved sound. He gave her the look again.
"Isn't this nice?"
"You're recovering from a psychic attack and I'm sitting on the floor. There are about a dozen Healers outside waiting to pump both of us for information and you're as close to delirious as I think anyone conscious has ever been." He paused. "Oh. We're not fighting. Yeah, okay. This is nice."
There was a silly grin on her face. Was she delirious? Well, she had a pretty damn good reason to be. There was a knock on the door, and she glared at it as if it were threatening her livelihood. Malfoy snickered.
"Are you two okay in there?" someone called. "Can we come in?"
"You can't hide in here forever." He pointed out.
"Mmyeah. Right. 'Kay." But before she got up, she turned to him, jabbing a finger into the middle of his chest. He looked surprised again. "Okay, I'm feeling all bubbly and like, drunk or something. But listen anyway. Now that I know what it's like to half get along with you, I like it too much to get better and have everything go back to the way it was tomorrow. So," she stressed, "Tomorrow we're not going greet each other by sniping. Tomorrow, when I see you, I'm going to say Good Morning Mister Draco Malfoy and you're going to say Good Morning Miss Hermione Granger and we're going to be all civil and happy and skip. Okay?"
He looked a bit speechless, but at the same time itching to slap some sense into her. She frowned, thinking over what she had just said. "Okay, not that last bit. Whatever. But everything else. Yes?"
Malfoy looked at her, humour winning as the dominant expression. "Whatever you say."
"Right then." She jumped to her feet. And almost fell on top of him. "Woah. Okay. Not too good."
She clung to the wall, and it took a while for the dizziness to clear. He was at her elbow, alarmed. Holding up a hand, she stumbled towards the door. "I'm good."
Malfoy watched her push back the door, and almost fall into the crowd waiting for her there. A grin tugged at his mouth. Then he followed her out.
.
It took her and Malfoy a while to convince the Healers that talking about what had happened was probably not the best idea. She arranged with Madame Louthe another time in which she promised to go through everything in detail. Still, she arrived back home four hours later than usual (having spent one of those hours unconscious), and had to take a sleeping potion to stop the dreams. And as she predicted, she was better the next day. There was still the mother of all headaches beating a hole into her skull, but all the giddiness and hysterical laughter had gone, leaving her with nothing but a sense of dread as she arrived at St. Mungo's. What the hell was she thinking? Why did she even bother turning up today? Would Malfoy even be able to stop laughing at her long enough to work properly? She snuck along the back walls, hoping not to run into him. Honestly. She made a promise to herself to never get drunk unless it was with people she trusted. She was so busy planning that list she didn't see herself creeping into Malfoy, his back to the skulking figure as he talked with another Healer.
She looked up, and the apology died on her lips. "Oh, shit."
There was a silence as they stared at each other. Something tugged at the corners of his mouth, something like a smile. But that couldn't be right. Then he opened his mouth.
Here we go. She looked at him hopelessly.
"Good morning, Miss Hermione Granger."
AN: Okay very quickly because I don't usually do this but I just thought how funny would it be if I just ended the fic like that? Haha okay, I am joking, SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER :D
