Chapter 12: Day 18-19—Re-Group
Draco Malfoy sat in the hospital cafeteria, watching patients and their families and doctors and nurses walk past him. For the past three days, Draco had been unbearably distracted. He begged the attending surgeons for any work they could give him; surgeries, rounds, post-ops, consultations, anything. Most of them (all but Dr. Sprout) were all shocked but happy and more than willing to give Draco all of the work they didn't care to do. It was also good for him because the surgeons saw him taking initiative and therefore more often wanted him on their service. That meant more surgeries than Draco could possibly fit into what little time he had, but he was grateful. Anything to get his mind off Granger.
Draco could be an asshole, that was certain. And he was stubborn and arrogant. He admitted all of this freely. But despite those qualities, Draco could always acknowledge when he'd fucked up. And he had certainly fucked up this time. For the first time in years, Draco had met a woman that he liked and wanted to get to know, and he had fucked it up with that stupid bet. He was smart—he'd gone to a good college and a good med school—and he had known—or should have known—exactly how a bet would end. He had seen movies and television shows with this exact plot. Boy meets girl; girl wants nothing to do with boy; boy makes a bet with friend that he can get girl; boy and girl start to actually like each other; girl finds out; girl hates boy. Yes, he had seen it all before.
Of course, the minor detail he certainly didn't forget was that at the end of those plots, the boy was always able to woo the girl into forgiving him and living happily ever after. Granger would forgive him.
Wouldn't she?
From the way she'd been acting for the past several days, Draco had a feeling that if she did decide to forgive him, it wouldn't be anytime soon. Every time he tried to talk to her, all he got was a grunt or an eye roll followed by her walking away from him immediately. Once he had even pestered her enough to get a "fuck off, Malfoy." But instead of that discouraging him, it excited him. He could still make her react. That was all he needed.
After he'd talked to Dorinda, he had made up his mind to find a way to get Granger to forgive him. When he realized that she would rather walk off a bridge than talk to him, he decided he would have to do it without talking. At first he thought that would mean seducing her, but after he had surprised her by pulling her into an on call room and pressing his lips and body against her own lips and body, he realized that he needed a different tactic. Although for the briefest of moments she had sighed and sagged a bit in his arms, a moment later, she had shoved him off of her and punched him hard in the groin. When he had felt the pain course through him, almost making him throw up, he realized that may not have been the best approach.
Draco put a cold French fry in his mouth as he sat thinking about Granger. The only way was to do it without talking to her, but he would have to talk to her eventually. He had to apologize and explain.
Explain what, though?
"Sorry I'm a dick. Forgive me and love me forever?"
No, that wouldn't work.
He would just have to think of something later.
Hermione was currently sitting alone in one of the nurses' lounges in the psych unit. She usually came to the nurses' lounges because there was a chance she could talk to Dorinda or Remus. She was still an outsider with the other psychiatrists in the unit because almost all of them had done their residencies together, and she was the new girl. But Dorinda and Remus were more than welcoming. Dorinda always had a story to tell, and Remus always had an ear to lend. They were so opposite, Dorinda and Remus. Where Remus was calm and had a deep, soft, rumbling voice, Dorinda was nervous and squeaky. Where Remus would smile warmly and chuckle, Dorinda would giggle like a mad woman. Despite their differences, she couldn't imagine what her life at St. Mungo's would be like if not for Remus and Dorinda. Although Dorinda was nervous and giggly, she was the kindest and most generous person Hermione had ever met. And of all the people she had ever known, no one had ever given her the kind of sage advice that Remus had for her almost daily.
At the moment, however, she was alone, but she desperately wished that one of them was there with her. She could use a hug from Dorinda or a shoulder to cry on from Remus.
Hermione sighed.
She had to get her mind off of stupid Malfoy. Things with Ron were progressing nicely. Since their date a few days ago, they had been texting and facebooking and emailing. He would send her the cutest pictures of little puppies or ridiculous news articles that he would read. He would text her just to see how her day was going. He had even called her one night after she got home from work, and although she had been exhausted and had eventually fallen asleep on the phone with him, it had been such a nice conversation. Things with Ron were just… easy. He wasn't an asshole like Malfoy. He wasn't arrogant like Malfoy. He didn't flip his hair in that stupid way that Malfoy did. He didn't smirk like Malfoy. He wasn't childish like Malfoy.
He wasn't Malfoy.
And wasn't that the problem? Hermione sighed again. Ron wasn't Malfoy. That should have been a good thing. And sometimes it honestly was, but even when she had first met Malfoy, she had felt their chemistry. She had felt that passion that boiled in her stomach from their first encounter. He had lit her on fire since the first day she'd met him. Ron wasn't boring… That wasn't it. He was just nice and safe and normal. But even the thought of Malfoy kissing her or touching her sent her head spinning and her heart racing and her stomach burning. She didn't want it to be so, but she couldn't help what her mind, heart, and body were begging her to give in to.
A day or so ago, Malfoy had tried to drag her into an on call room, which Hermione guessed was his way of trying to patch things up. In that moment, when his mouth found hers and he had pressed her body in between his body and the wall, she had wanted to give in. And for a moment, she almost had. She wanted him to lift her up and take her against the wall. She wanted that more than anything in that moment, but a moment later, her brain had caught up to her body, and she had pushed him away. But even after that, when she had gone home that night, she couldn't stop thinking about the way even that small encounter had made her feel.
All she knew was that she had to get over this infatuation with him. He was bad for her. He was dangerous, and all he would do is hurt her. She knew that. So then why was she constantly thinking about him? His eyes, his hair, his lips, his voice, his body, his hands and what they felt like when they were on her. It was all she could think about, and she wanted it to stop. But even though she told herself she didn't want to think about him, she knew it wasn't true. She wanted to forgive him. She wanted—
Hermione's thoughts were interrupted when someone came into the nurses' lounge.
"I knew you would be in here."
"Hi, Dor," Hermione said with a smile. She saw that Dorinda was carrying a vase full of flowers as she walked toward the table that Hermione was sitting at. They looked beautiful, and Hermione thought she saw some lilacs in the arrangement. Lilacs were her favorite. Hermione felt a jolt of jealousy rush through her. "Are those from Judd?" Hermione asked, referring to Dorinda's husband.
Dorinda smiled as she put the vase down on the table and sat down across from Hermione. Dorinda shook her head. "They're for you."
"Me?" Hermione felt herself smile as she pulled the flowers closer so she could smell them. They smelled so good and fresh. Ron really was sweet.
"There's a card," Dorinda said, still smiling.
Hermione pulled away from the flowers and turned the vase around so she could pluck the card out of the arrangement. Hermione opened it, and as she read it, her eyes went wide.
"What does it say?" Dorinda asked.
Hermione blinked and looked up at Dorinda before she looked back down at the card.
"'I'm sorry. I can't stop thinking about you,'" Hermione read.
Dorinda opened her mouth to speak but before she could say anything, Hermione stood up abruptly, grabbed the vase of flowers and the card and turned to walk out of the room. "I'll see you later, Dor," she said before she rushed out of the lounge.
Draco had just made it back to the surgical floor to begin doing some post-op work for an attending surgeon when he saw slightly frizzy, curly, light brown hair of the woman he hadn't been able to get his mind off of for over a month.
"Granger," he called out to her, knowing she was looking for him.
Granger whipped around, and Draco saw a vase of flowers in her hands as she narrowed her eyes and stomped over to him.
"What the hell is this, Malfoy?" Granger asked, holding up a card in her hand.
"A card?"
"I know it's a card! Why did you give me these?"
"I… I just wanted to say I'm sorry," Draco said. When he'd sent the flowers, he admitted that he thought she would have immediately forgiven him. But seeing her here now, he realized he was wrong, and he felt a bit sheepish.
With a sound between a grunt and sigh, Granger waved her hand to gesture for him to follow her, and she walked briskly into the nearest room, which happened to be a supply closet.
"Granger—"
"Shut up," Granger said immediately. She set the flowers on a shelf and turned to Draco. She stared at him for a few seconds before she brought her hands up to his face and pulled his face to hers. As soon as their mouths met, Draco grunted and grabbed Granger's hips to pull her close. She whimpered quietly, and Draco felt a rush of excitement shoot through him. As soon as he opened his mouth against hers, however, she pushed him away and took several steps back.
"What—"
"I shouldn't have done that," Granger said as she brought her hand up to touch her lips gently. She put her hand down quickly when she saw Draco staring at her. He couldn't take his eyes off her lips. He wanted them. "Why did you send me those?" Granger asked, gesturing towards the flowers.
"Because I'm sorry," Draco said.
"You could have just said it instead of sending me flowers."
Draco scoffed and looked at her incredulously. "Are you serious? Every time I got even a little close to you, you would run away or tell me to 'fuck off!'"
"Gee, I wonder why," Granger shot back.
"I'm sorry about the bet, Her—"
"Oh, the bet…" Granger said sarcastically as if she had just remembered why she was upset. "Tell me about this bet."
"Hermione—"
"No, Malfoy, I want to know. I heard you tell Zabini that it was for two hundred dollars."
"It doesn't matter."
"It does to me," Granger said quickly. And when Draco looked at her, he could see that she wasn't being sarcastic anymore. She was being serious, and she wanted to know about the bet.
"I…" His heart was hammering in his chest, but he knew she wouldn't be able to forgive him unless she could get closure about this damn bet. "I bet Blaise that I could sleep with you in one month."
Granger raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Sleep with me in one month for two hundred dollars… So, what, you have two more weeks?"
Draco looked at her. She wanted an answer. "Twelve days," he said.
Granger nodded and turned to go.
"Granger, wait—"
Draco tried to reach out and grab her hand, but she yanked it away quickly. "How about this, Malfoy?" she said as she rounded on him. "When the twelve days are up, maybe then I'll believe that you're being sincere about this apology."
"Hermione…"
"No," was all Granger said. She turned to go again, but she paused for a moment. Without looking at him, she picked up the vase of flowers and the card and walked out. He knew he shouldn't, but at that, Draco felt hopeful.
Hermione hadn't read the whole note to Dorinda.
I know these pale compared to your beauty, but I hope they'll do for now. I'm sorry. I can't stop thinking about you.
She didn't want to, but she kept reading it over and over and over. I can't stop thinking about you. She desperately wanted to believe he was being sincere. He had seemed so sincere, but she couldn't be sure. How could she know if this wasn't all about the bet? She couldn't know. She would either have to wait until the month was up and see if he was still interested, or she would just have to trust that he was. She could really use some advice from her mother or her father or Remus.
Hermione's pager went off and she looked down at it. She apparently had a phone call at the psych unit's main desk. She tried to clear her mind of Malfoy as she made her way over there.
"There was a phone call for—"
"Hermione Granger," the woman at the desk said with a quick smile. She shoved the slip of paper in front of Hermione, and Hermione took it quickly from the obviously busy woman. She muttered a quick thanks and walked over to the phone at the other end of the desk. Hermione looked down at the slip of paper.
Ginny Weasley on line 3, the note said in loopy scrawl. Hermione's brow creased as she picked up the phone and pressed the button for line three.
"Ginny?"
"Hi, Dr. Granger."
"Hi, Ginny. Are you okay?"
"Yes… well… I was just—I don't know, things have been a little… crazy… I could really—I mean, I know you're busy, but you said—you know, you told me when I left the hospital—"
"Ginny, do you want to come in for a session?" Hermione interrupted Ginny's rambling and got to the point she knew Ginny was trying to make. "Or we can just grab lunch. Whatever you want."
Hermione heard Ginny sigh on the other end. "Okay, that would be great. Thank you."
"I've got some free time tomorrow afternoon around 2 o'clock. Does that work for you?"
"That's perfect. Thanks."
"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."
Hermione's brow was even more creased than it was when she had picked up the phone. Ginny had sounded incredibly vulnerable on the phone. They would definitely need a more formal setting than just lunch, she could tell. She remembered Harry telling her that he had been telling Ginny to come in and see her. She knew she would be wondering why until tomorrow.
Several minutes later, Hermione made her way to Sirius Black's room, and she smiled when she saw him and Remus together in the room chatting. He hadn't left the hospital yet in case he were to have another episode, and he and Hermione had decided to have daily sessions to talk through the things that had happened to him. They had only had two sessions so far, and Hermione was still trying to gain his trust. So far they had only talked about Sirius's youth. She had discovered that he'd had a younger brother that had died decades ago, and they had grown up with overbearing parents that had always viewed Sirius as the disappointment of the family. In yesterday's session, they had just barely started talking about when Sirius had first met James, the friend he had been accused of murdering. That's where they would start off today.
"Hi Remus. Sirius," Hermione said when she walked into the room.
Remus looked up midway through a laugh. He had his hand on Sirius's leg, and Sirius had a hand resting on Remus's. When Remus looked up at Hermione, Sirius kept his eyes on Remus. Hermione smiled.
"Hi Dr. Granger," Remus chuckled. Hermione gave him a stern look, and Remus nodded, still smiling. "Hermione," he corrected himself.
"Hey Hermione," Sirius said, finally tearing his eyes away from Remus.
"Are you ready for our session?" she asked Sirius. He nodded.
Remus stood up and said "Okay, I'll see you later," before he leaned in to place a kiss on Sirius's lips. When Remus tried to pull away, Sirius held him close and hummed as he pressed his lips into Remus's. When Sirius deepened the kiss, Hermione shook her head with a smile and looked down, not wanting to intrude on a tender moment. After a few moments, Remus pulled away, and Hermione looked up again. She saw that Remus had a deep flush on his face.
"Sorry doctor," he said as he stepped away from Sirius.
Hermione simply shook her head at him for calling her 'doctor' and waved him out of the room.
"You two seem happy," Hermione said as she sat in the seat that Remus had just vacated.
A slight frown replaced the smile that had just been gracing Sirius's face. "I can tell that he's still scared. It's a lot easier that I'm in here, I think," he said. "We'll see what happens when you let me out of here."
"The best thing for you and Remus will be for you to heal completely while you're here, so you can go back to him healthy and whole again," Hermione said.
"You're a lot like Remus, you know," Sirius said suddenly. Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"How so?" she asked.
"You're both very guarded, and you're so afraid of getting hurt that you hardly take a chance on anyone."
"What makes you say that?"
"I see the way you get when Dr. Malfoy comes around. And Remus told me the gossip about you guys."
Hermione frowned. "Maybe Remus and I just learn from our experiences. Maybe it's just that every time we've ever taken chances, we've been let down."
"No, not every time," Sirius said firmly. "Maybe sometimes when you take those chances you can get hurt, but those times that it pays off, it really pays off. Right?"
Hermione paused for a moment. "Do you want to talk about you and Remus today?" she said to change the subject. "Or do you want to keep talking about James?"
Sirius chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah, you are like Remus. You both know how to evade and change a subject when you don't want to talk about it. Especially when you realize that the other person has made a good point that you'll have a hard time refuting."
"Okay, okay," Hermione said with a small smile. She paused and continued. "So, you and James were close right away?"
"It was like we had known each other our entire lives…"
About an hour or so later, Hermione and Sirius were finishing up their session.
"That's when James and Lily started to fear for their lives," he said. Hermione waited for him to continue, but when he didn't, she spoke up.
"Do you want to stop and pick up here tomorrow?"
Sirius nodded. She could tell that their session had worn on him. She could only imagine how he would feel tomorrow.
"Would you like me to send Remus back in?"
Sirius nodded again. Hermione looked at him for a moment before she stood up next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"I know we haven't talked about this yet, but there's something I need to say and it's something you need to hear and repeat to yourself every day," she said. He looked up at her. "No matter what you might think, James and Lily's deaths were not your fault."
"I—"
"No matter what you think," Hermione repeated more firmly, "their deaths were not your fault." He opened his mouth to protest again, but Hermione said, "Sirius." And with a stern look, she turned and left the room.
You look beautiful today.
Hermione had found the note in her locker after her rounds that next morning. She knew it had to be from Malfoy, and she knew it was a way of getting back in her good graces, but she couldn't help but smile and hold the note close to her chest anyway. She read it over a few more times before she placed it on the top shelf of her locker, right next to note that he had attached to the flowers he had gotten her the day before. The flowers were currently sitting on her kitchen table in her apartment. She told herself it was because the flowers were beautiful, not because they were from Malfoy.
Throughout the morning as Hermione met with patients and consulted on different floors in the hospital, she would find herself making her way back to her locker just so she could look at Malfoy's notes. She knew she was finding every excuse she could to make trips to her locker, but every time her mind wandered, she would picture the little notes in her locker and she would find herself being drawn to it like a moth to the flame.
Then, later that morning, she had been walking on the surgical floor when she had seen him. She had tried to keep her guard up—eyeing around corners before she turned down a hallway or checking the surgical board to make sure she would only be on the floor when he was in surgery—but she had been so distracted by thinking about his notes and his flowers and thinking about her upcoming session with Ginny, that her guard had been temporarily down when she looked up and saw him walking toward her. She looked back down quickly, but when she knew he was about to pass, it was as if her head was acting on its own volition as it lifted up and she made eye contact with him.
"Good morning," he said with a small, sincere smile.
"G…good morning," she spluttered out. Her heart was in her throat and there was a burning sensation in her stomach. When he passed, she stopped and turned to watch him walk away. She wanted to run to him and leap into his arms. She wanted to kiss him and feel his arms around her. When other images of what she wanted him to do to her entered her mind, she went to turn away, but just as she did, he turned back. When their eyes met again, he smiled a bit bigger this time, but his eyes looked a bit sad. She could tell in that moment that all the things she had been thinking… he wanted them, too.
"Have a seat, Ginny," Hermione directed Ginny into one of the rooms that the hospital had set up for these types of sessions. All of the rooms like this were small so they could fit more in, but they were cozy. It was more dimly lit than the rest of the hospital so that it would have a more intimate feel. The carpet was tan and shaggy, and there were some paintings on the dark teal walls. Against one wall there was a long, brown leather couch and a matching armchair sitting caddy corner from it. There were other various relaxation items and medical equipment in the opposite corner. Other than that, it was just Hermione and Ginny, and immediately, Hermione could tell that Ginny was tense as she sat down on the couch.
"It's been a while since we've seen each other," Hermione began as she took a seat on the armchair. "It's been…"
"Six weeks," Ginny finished for her.
Hermione nodded and smiled. "How have you been?"
Ginny laughed humorlessly. "Let's just say it's been a long six weeks."
Hermione tilted her head. "How so?"
The look on Ginny's face indicated to Hermione that she had regretted her previous comment. She wasn't ready to talk about whatever it was she actually came to talk about. Hermione asked another question.
"How are your injuries? Are they healing okay?"
"You're asking if he's hit me since I left and made them worse," Ginny said.
Hermione shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay physically. But if you want to talk about Michael's abuse…"
"He hasn't been hitting me."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "That's… good." Hermione could tell that Ginny wasn't giving her the full story. "Have you been fighting at all?"
"Not since…" Ginny started then stopped.
"Not since when?"
When Ginny didn't speak, Hermione spoke again, a bit more softly. "We don't have to talk about it. But you came for my help, right?"
There were several moments of silence. Ginny was looking down at her hands and Hermione was watching Ginny. She looked nervous and scared, but there was another emotion that Hermione couldn't quite read. If she wanted to find out, she would have to get Ginny to start talking. Hermione was about to speak again when Ginny spoke.
"Things were good… for a while… He had been kind and doting." Ginny paused. "Then, about two weeks after I came back from the hospital, I… You know it's strange," Ginny said, looking up at Hermione. "Sometimes, I can tell when he's going to hit me. Some nights when he comes home it's just this vibe… I can tell." She paused again. "That night I could tell. We fought, and I let him provoke me into fighting back. He hit me. And then… Then he, uh…" Ginny took a deep breath. "He raped me."
It felt as if a fist had just clinched Hermione's heart. "Okay…" She said slowly. "Ginny, I'm so sorry."
And to Hermione's surprise, Ginny smiled as she looked back down at her hands. "In a way, what he did—what he's been doing to me for a long time… It was a blessing." Hermione tried to hide her shock, but Ginny was too busy looking at her hands to notice her. "If it wasn't for his abuse, I would have never found it in me to…"
"To what?" Hermione couldn't stop herself from interjecting.
Ginny continued to study her hands. "After that night, Harry came to find me. Every time Michael knocks me down, Harry has always been there to pick me up. I know it's dangerous, but… Since the day after Michael raped me, Harry and I have been having an affair."
Hermione wanted to shout—in anger, joy, fear, excitement. It was incredibly stupid, what Ginny and Harry were doing, and it could get both of them killed by a man who clearly had psychopathic tendencies. But at the same time, Ginny deserved this. She deserved Harry, and it had been so obvious to Hermione that she was in love with him. The rape, Harry—it was exactly what Ginny needed to leave Michael. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Ginny continued.
"I know how dangerous it is." The smile she had previously worn turned into a look of pure fear. "I know I should just leave Michael, but I can't. He'll kill me, and if he finds out I left for Harry, he'll kill Harry. I can't… If anything every happens to Harry because of this, I'll never forgive myself… But Hermione," Ginny looked up at her. "Hermione, I have to leave him. I have to leave him before… I just—I can't be with him—not now…"
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. "Because of Harry?"
"No… well, yes. Michael is dangerous. He'll kill me if he finds out."
"If you fear for your life, there are steps that can be taken," Hermione said. "You're right, though. If he finds out about Harry, he will not be happy."
"No, it's not just Harry…" Ginny said quickly.
Hermione was confused. "What do you mean? I mean, no, I understand, the abuse—"
"No," Ginny interrupted. "I…" She inhaled and exhaled deeply. "I'm pregnant."
Next chapter:
Ronoold comes for a visit. Draco does not like it, to say the least.
