Free to Love

Inspiration: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

Must Haves: Set in St. Mungo's

Theme: Insanity

Healer Grieves beamed at his guest.

"As you can see, here at St. Mungo's we are successfully retraining afflicted wizards and witches for proper roles in society."

Madame Échapper, an imperious woman from Paris's wizard hospital with sleek, tightly-bound brown hair, horned-rimmed glasses, and a small mole by her mouth, remained impassive. "I nevair would 'ave chosen ze word 'afflicted' for people in love."

Grieves frowned. "It fits when the so-called love is unnatural. These patients are here because of self-destructive affection for Mudbloods. We cure them."

"Oui, of course you are correct." The woman moved slowly up the hall, peering into every room through tiny windows in the doors. She stopped outside room 418. "'Oo is zis?"

The Healer joined her at the window. Within, a blond man slept curled in the fetal position.

"Draco Malfoy…a disappointing case, I admit. He became involved with a particularly notorious Mudblood—Hermione Granger, close friend of Undesirable Number One—and turned traitor. Such a shame. His family used to be so well connected."

Her hand curled into a fist against the door. "Ze patient is not responding to ze program?"

"Not as well as we'd like. He still loves her. He even insists they're married." The Healer's lip curled in disgust. "Such a union is not recognized, of course; we now have laws against miscegenation. Nevertheless, he remains devoted."

The woman bowed her head, eyes shut, and Grieves laughed.

"I know." Grieves patted her shoulder in comfort. "It would be romantic if it weren't so perverse." He shook his head. "Luckily, we've made our first breakthrough in his treatment."

She opened her eyes. "Breakthrough?"

"A Sleeping Draught to prevent dreams. Apparently, he often dreams of his Mudblood." Grieves examined Malfoy through the glass again, evidently pleased by what he saw. "When we told him this would no longer be tolerated, he cried."

Something like grief crossed her face.

"Feel no pity, Madame. It's a sign we're reaching him."

She abruptly opened the door with her wand and entered.

"Madame!" Grieves darted after her, but was rendered unconscious with one swish and flick. She locked the door and darkened the window.

Moving swiftly, she poured a restorative potion down Draco's throat. "Wake up, love."

He stirred. His eyes were hazy and tracked all over the room before focusing on the woman by his bedside. Brown hair, ruthlessly tamed. Unfamiliar glasses. A smile he knew like his own heartbeat. "Hermione?" Groggy, he touched the mole by her mouth.

"Yes. I'm in disguise." She helped him sit up. "We have to hurry; the extraction team leaves in six minutes."

Dreamlike, Draco traced her lips with his fingertip. "I tried to hold on, but they took you from me."

Swallowing a sob, she kissed him, relishing the feel of his mouth after months apart. "Well, I've come for you, and we're getting out of here. No one will ever part us again."

Hermione tugged hairs from Draco's scalp, and from healers, and dropped them into tiny vials of Polyjuice Potion from her pocket. Pressing one into his hand, she forced the other between the Healer's jaws.

Slightly more alert, Draco looked from the vial in his palm to the floor where Grieves was turning into his twin. "You're real, aren't you? This isn't a dream?"

Hermione cupped his face with gentle hands. "I'm real, and I love you."