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J.K Rowling owns all Harry Potter names and spells.

February 22, 2004.

Malfoy had been under her charge for nineteen days when things took a turn for the worse between them. Since regaining consciousness, the two had come to heads about a number of different things from the amount of light in the room to the scratching of her quill as she made notes about his progress.

Her patient hadn't given her a clue as to what he had taken, so Hermione was aiming at educating him as best as she could instead of offering potions to help minimise the drug's effects on his body. If he was too stubborn to let her help him, then she was prepared to let him suffer through the pain of withdrawal without medicinal assistance. He had handled it well in her presence during the first two weeks of the withdrawal, but the notes from her co-worker indicated that it had been the nights that saw him at his worst. She was rather proud- in an objective way of course- of Malfoy's strength in not having gone crazy at the sudden withdrawal and for maintaining a strong charade while in her presence.

Based on her observations, Malfoy didn't seem suicidal, nor did he seem depressed in any way. He complained as frequently as she remembered from school and he criticized everything about her from her hair to the practical shoes on her feet. Nothing about Draco Malfoy had changed in the years since graduation, but as she knew herself, looks could be deceiving.

Draco had attended a seminar hosted by the hospital about healthy living and the effects that drugs and alcohol could have on a body. He had suffered through numerous lectures from her about how to prepare himself to resist the temptations that could come from being around friends who did drugs and from drinking. She based his education on the belief that he was a social user and so was influenced by others taking them or by the presence of alcohol.

Her personal experience with drugs was entirely different to his, and she knew what her trigger was, so she knew how important it was for Malfoy to understand his. Malfoy had sat through her lectures with grouchy reluctance and had constantly interrupted her with snide remarks.

The latest argument had occurred after Hermione had suggested that Draco keep a journal to record his feelings about his rehabilitation treatment. It was a technique that Hermione often used with other patients, and the feedback indicated that a lot of people found it therapeutic to write their angry thoughts and hopes for the future down. Having so much physical pain as well as too many thoughts was something Hermione was well aware of and believed was a good technique for clearing the mind.

Malfoy on the other hand had scoffed and threw his goblet of water (made from a metal, not glass) across the room towards her while screaming at her about being 'a stupid Mudblood bitch' that didn't know anything about his thoughts. Had she have been able to, Hermione would have rolled her eyes at the use of 'Mudblood'. Pure bloods were so unoriginal. Hermione knew that in the Muggle world there were many ways to insult a person about their colour, gender, race, sexuality and political beliefs. But in the Wizarding World it was just Mudblood this and Mudblood that, and she had been subjected to that word so many times in Malfoy's presence that it just grew meaningless.

As it was, the force of Malfoy's violent throw caused a dent in the wall of the room and liquid slapped heavily against the ground as gravity did its work. Hermione stood frozen meters from where the goblet impacted and stared at the blonde man with the first sign of fear that she had felt in his presence. Looking her square in the face from his position on his bed, he growled, "Get me your supervisor Granger."

Malfoy's words brought her out of her shocked daze and she cocked her head as she stared at him. What was he getting at? Not once had he asked to see her supervisor. But it appeared he hadn't finished his demands when he raised himself out of the bed and with more confidence than two weeks ago, stood and started walking toward her, gaining ground with every word he said. "And then I want you to contact Blaise and get him to come and get me." Once in front of her, he bent close and narrowed his eyes at her before harshly saying, "I am getting the FUCK-" at this word he slammed his left hand into the wall next to her head, "-out of this shit hole!"

Hermione- trapped between an angry patient and a wall, had absolutely no idea what to make of the situation. So she did what she did best and calmly stepped around him and sent off a Patronus to Healer Moss requesting her immediate presence. She had experienced angry and confused patients before, so this was nothing new. It was just ridiculous that Malfoy thought that he could intimidate her. Once her Patronus had scampered away, she turned back to face Malfoy with a look of boredom- she had literally done this at least ten times before with other patients.

While Hermione knew that Malfoy would not like being told to keep a journal, she did not expect the reaction that she got. She had been so sure that she could help him, and he appeared to be doing better physically as well. He had his natural pale colour back and not the grayish complexion that she first saw him sporting. His hair was back to its well groomed state and he had gained his strength back after eating a good number of decent meals.

Looking him directly in the eye, she said, "Mr Malfoy I must request that you return to your bed. Healer Moss will be here shortly. Unfortunately it is not visiting hours, and as you are in no deadly peril, I cannot contact Mr Zabini for you." At the end of her little speech, she primly sat in her desk chair and crossed her legs, surveying him like he was a test animal in a cage just to infuriate him more.

For his part, Malfoy looked stunned that she had refused his demands. He was glaring at her from his spot by the wall- he hadn't moved since she had slipped past him- and he was imagining all sorts of violent ways for her to die by his hands. He couldn't feel the need for a hit of the drug, but he still craved the sensations that the pink powder would bestow on his body and mind. He was tired of Granger's presence, and he quite simply had no desire to 'get clean', so this whole fiasco had been a great waste of his time.

When Healer Moss arrived three minutes later, she found Draco Malfoy standing by a wall that had trails of liquid running down it and Hermione Granger sitting in her seat inspecting her nails. Raising an eyebrow at the situation, she summoned a chair and sat down near Healer Granger's desk. Feeling the eyes of both occupants on her, Healer Moss cleared her throat then stared down at the other Healer in the room.

"Healer Granger, could you please enlighten me as to why my presence has been summoned."

Hermione- ever the professional- delicately uncrossed then recrossed her legs before speaking. "I actually don't know myself Healer Moss. I was just suggesting to Mr Malfoy that he keep a journal to document how he feels he is doing with the rehabilitation, and then he threw his goblet at me." Hermione shrugged before continuing. "I mean I've had plenty of hostile patients before, but I genuinely don't know what Mr Malfoy has to be angry about."

Ok, maybe tiny white lie there, a small voice snarked in the back of Hermione's head as she flicked her eyes to Malfoy's. Malfoy was glaring at her and Hermione quickly averted her gaze back to her boss.

"That's fucking bullshit Granger and you know it!" Malfoy growled at her.

Both Healer Moss and Hermione ignored his little sentence, but it was Healer Moss who spoke. "Mr Malfoy, has there been a problem in the way that Healer Granger has treated you?"

Malfoy scoffed but did not answer. He knew as well as they did that his treatment- while given to him by someone less than satisfactory- was adequate. Hermione Granger was one of the best in her field, and he knew he could not claim otherwise.

"My treatment has been fine. In fact, I would like to discharge myself this afternoon. I have learnt all that-" Malfoy swallowed and his face took on a sour look as he said the next words, "-Healer Granger can teach me."

Hermione stood suddenly and accidentally knocked her chair backwards. "What?!" she demanded of the man. There was no way Malfoy could be allowed to self discharge. She knew he wasn't prepared to go back to the outside world. Sure, he did not have the drug in his system anymore, and the withdrawal symptoms had disappeared, but his mindset to stay clean and his ability to resist temptation were non-existent.

Draco Malfoy had been raised to be a man who expected instant self-gratification. If he so much as had an urge for the drug he had been taking, he would go to any lengths to get it. Self-restraint was hard for abusers; Hermione knew this from personal experience.

Malfoy looked at her with one faint blonde eyebrow raised. "I said I am requesting to self-discharge Granger. It's not a difficult thing to grasp. You've clearly reached your limits on what you can teach me, and I quite simply want out."

Hermione looked to her boss in bafflement. There was no way the older woman would allow such a thing! If he was released, Hermione had absolutely no doubt that he would fall back into old habits. Casual use, serious abuse, it didn't really matter- her job was to make his resistance to temptation stronger, and she hadn't achieved that just yet.

Healer Moss was looking at Malfoy with an expression of deep thought while Hermione and Malfoy glared at one another. Finally with a sigh, she said out loud, "I'm sorry Healer Granger, but if Mr Malfoy is requesting self discharge, I am not able to stop him from leaving. Like the reports show, he has completed satisfactory rehabilitation, and even though he was brought in involuntary, there is no Ministry order requesting that he not be released. If Mr Malfoy feels that he is ready to be discharged, then there is nothing anyone in this hospital can do to keep him from leaving."

Hermione stared at her boss in disbelief while Malfoy stared at her with a smug expression on his face. If they had kept him here, he would have demanded that Blaise bring him a lawyer. Sworn to secrecy of course. Sure it would have cost him a pretty galleon, but at least he would no longer be confined to the same room as the Mudblood Bitch for days on end.

"Is there anyone we can call to come get you Mr Malfoy?" Healer Moss asked as she walked to his bed and reached for his file.

Malfoy pursed his lips as though he was considering it, but shook his head in the negative as he too walked towards his bed. Hermione was still standing by her desk looking from Malfoy to her boss with a look of disapproval on her face.

She knew the hospital could not legally keep him there as he had met the minimum requirements for treatment and had attended enough education sessions to have an idea of how to deal with the outside world. But Hermione wasn't stupid and she knew Malfoy had no intention of ever taking anything over the past few weeks seriously.

She watched as Healer Moss went through the discharge papers with him. Grabbing her wand, she approached them and flicked her hand towards the bed to get rid of the sheets that Malfoy had been sleeping on. She saw Malfoy raise his head and raise his eyebrow at her as he drawled, "So eager to get rid of me Mudblood?"

Meeting his eyes, Hermione refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her riled up. Choosing to be the bigger person- she was still a professional regardless of their past- Hermione approached Healer Moss' other side and filled out the information she had to as his Healer.

Once Malfoy had his rather meagre selection of possessions shrunk and placed in his pocket, he was led out of the ward by both Healers towards the floo hall.

Forgoing any other words, Malfoy grabbed a handful of powder, stepped into the fireplace and shouted out "16 Willingham Way." Just before his disappearance, Hermione saw the look of smug satisfaction sent directly her way.

"Stupid ferret," Hermione muttered under her breath as she and her boss turned away from the fireplace and walked back to the nurse's station. They were met with a small commotion in the form of Blaise Zabini yelling at the receptionist.

Knowing that he was most likely there for Malfoy, Hermione stepped forward. With angry eyes, Zabini looked at her and demanded that she tell him where Draco was. With a steady voice, Hermione responded, "Mr Malfoy has just left Mr Zabini. He chose to self discharge himself earlier to-" Hermione trailed off as the expression on Zabini's face went from angry to fucking furious.

"He did what?! And you idiots let him? Do you have any bloody idea of what he's going to do next?"

Both Hermione and Healer Moss stepped back at his apparent rage, and Hermione could see one of the assistants behind the desk discreetly calling for a security wizard.

Raking his hand through his dark hard, Zabini muttered, "Screw this shit!" before he shot another angry glare at Hermione and then stormed off in the direction of the floo hall.

Deciding to follow him, Hermione quickly said as such to her boss before scurrying away down the hall. She arrived just in time to see Zabini grab a handful of floo powder and shout "16 Willingham Way," before he disappeared in green flames.

Hermione let out a sharp gust of air and rubbed her temples as she stared into the now empty fire.

It didn't take a genius to know that this would not end well.

:)

The coming chapters to be updated soon were actually the inspiration for this fic. The next chapter is what I wrote first, but then added these four chapters in to complement the story I am weaving.

As I have rated this T, is the language I am using too much? It is just how I imagine Draco speaking in anger and Blaise in stress...