Saturday, 13 June 2009
Draco sat in his office, taking a few moments to himself to rest before the next string of patients showed up. It had already been a long shift and he had only been on the clock for three hours. As the Assistant Head of the Obstetrics Department at Saint Mungo's, he did not normally work the night shift, but with two of his healers out on vacation, he'd stepped up and taken a few night shifts the past couple of weeks. He was just thankful that this was the last night he would spend thus, for a while at least, and that he had the rest of the weekend to relax, since both healers would be returning on Monday.
Draco's reprieve was broken by his least favourite voice at the hospital. "Healer Malfoy, your presence is requested in Room 15."
The blond wizard glanced at the young witch in the portrait by his door. She glared right back at him, with a spite reserved only for him clearly visible in her visage.
After Draco had first moved into his office, he found her disdain for him to be quite entertaining. That entertainment disappeared very quickly the first time he found out that she was deliberately delaying informing him when he was needed. After that incident, Draco made it his mission to discover the source of her hatred.
It didn't take him long to figure out why she had a problem with a wizard she'd never met.
In the late 1600s, when the young witch had been alive, her lover, and the young wizard she was hoping to marry, let his pater force him into an arranged marriage, breaking the young brunette's heart. From that day forward, Alessandra Rosier vowed to destroy the life of every Malfoy she met, including Draco, who she said looked almost exactly like her former lover, Jakob Malfoy.
Ever since Draco figured out what his ancestor had done to her, he had been trying to get the vindictive painting removed, because she had made it clear to him that there was nothing he could do to change her mind. Thankfully, she hadn't caused any major problems with patients, but the thought of her bitterness being able to potentially endanger patients did not sit well with the Malfoy heir. If he found out that she pulled the same stunt this time, he would stop at nothing to get the painting removed.
After a moment, the young witch's words finally processed in Draco's mind, and he jolted in his chair. "Wait, did you say Room 15?"
She huffed at him, rolling her eyes. "Yes, Room 15, were you not listening?"
Draco quickly stood up and made his way to his door, nearly missing the smug look on the painted witch's lips. Unless they were overrun with new patients, which he knew was not a problem they were having that particular night, then Room 15 was only used for witches who were in labour this late at night. "Thank you, Miss Rosier, but I have to leave. Have a good night."
A derisive snort followed him down the hall.
As Draco made his way through the softly lit hallways to Room 15, he was thankful for the hospital's inclusion of thousands of unbreakable jars containing bluebell flames lighting the halls and rooms. The blue flames were easy to maintain, safer than any candle because of the spell cast on the jars, smokeless, and, after an impromptu demonstration during his first year of healer training, they were shown to help relax even the most distressed of patients. He still chuckled every time he thought back to that day and to how Hermione earned her nickname.
They were watching their teacher work with a terrified little boy, and nothing he tried would calm him down. After listening to the small child scream and cry for a few minutes, Draco watched as the brunette witch next to him discreetly drew her wand, and after transfiguring a jar from her hair clip, she cast a spell sending blue flames into the jar. She then sealed the jar and cast an unbreakable spell over it. The other students watched captivated as the little boy calmed down immediately upon seeing the calming blue flames and watched in fascination as she set the jar to float just above the table next to his bed.
Before she could return her wand to its hiding place, the little boy turned to her and said, 'Bluebell.'
'Yes, they are bluebell flames,' she replied.
'No, Bluebell,' he had replied, pointing at Hermione. She had started to disagree with him, but his next word stopped her, 'Tanks.'
None of the students or even their teacher had ever seen such a drastic change in a patient in such a short amount of time. After they finished with the little boy, the group moved to a room where Hermione explained the uses she discovered of the little blue flames over the past few years. She explained how the waterproof flames worked wonders on Devil's Snare, if one should ever find themselves caught in such a nasty plant. The feisty little witch laughingly explained that they were great for distracting teachers, but her greatest discovery was discovered during the war. The flames had a calming effect on people, beings, and beasts rather than putting them on edge.
When asked if she was the reason for a jar sitting on the table between Frank and Alice Longbottom, she confirmed it, adding 'Neville saw me conjuring a couple jars just after the war for Madame Pomfrey to use in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. After he saw the effects on the wounded in the hospital wing of the school, he asked if I would be willing to give him one for his parents. I was more than happy to.'
The current on-call healer could only hope that those calming effects would help him with his next patient. Whoever she may be. He opened the door and as he closed it behind himself, a familiar voice greeted him, although said voice didn't sound very happy at the moment. "What took you so long? I've been here for almost an hour! Do you really think my children can do this themselves?"
That's it! On Monday, I will be in Healer Philberry's office and if she's still unwilling, Chief Shrugback will be hearing from me. And if I have to, I will burn that bloody painting myself, Draco groused to himself, smiling apologetically at Hermione. Seeing only one jar of bluebell flames floating in the room, he conjured two more to float along side the first.
"Miss Rosier, who else? I'm sorry Hermione; she will be gone by Monday afternoon." Draco stepped up to the hospital bed where his friend and coworker was resting. "What are you doing here? You still have another week before your scheduled inducement date."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't you think I know that? My children have decided that they're ready to join the real world now rather than waiting on your convenience. They probably get their impatience from their father." The brunette witch groaned as a contraction passed through her body.
Draco stepped forward, raising an eyebrow at her comment, but he chose to remain silent. Grasping her hand, letting her squeeze his hand through the pain, he reassured her, "Just breathe, Hermione."
"Don't tell me to just breathe, Malfoy, these damn things hurt like hell." She released his hand after the contraction passed.
Before he could respond, the door opened and the mediwitch entered with a cup in one hand and stationary in the other.
"Thank you, Susan," Hermione said.
Susan smiled at her friend. "It's just my job." She turned to Draco. "Healer Malfoy, I'm glad to finally see you here."
Draco grumbled as he turned to put on gloves. "After tonight," he looked up at the time projected next to the door and saw that it was well after one o'clock in the morning, "well this morning, it won't be happening again. This is the last time that damned painting is going to screw with me. I should have been informed that Hermione was here right after she arrived."
Susan grinned at Hermione. Just about every healer and mediwitch at St. Mungo's knew that Draco's notification painting had it out for him and that the hospital administration seemed to be content to let it slide. Well after today, he would make sure heads rolled and the portrait would be taken down.
Another contraction passed through her. "If I ever find the bastard who did this to me, I'm going to castrate him."
Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "I'll be sure to let him know so he has a few seconds head start on you."
Hermione glared at him.
"Bastard."