Chapter 3
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries implemented the perfect façade to elude exposure in muggle London. The red-bricked dilapidated department store, known as Purge & Dowse, Ltd., is a resourceful disguise since it avoids unnecessary attention from the original hospital and it is a large enough building to house the hospital's unorthodox wards and patients. Gaining entrance into St. Mungo's is similar to how platform 9 ¾ at King's Cross Station works; all that is required of the person is to step in through a window. However, there is an alternate route and Hermione is one of the few people who prefers this route: asking a mannequin located inside the building to allow her admission into the hospital.
For the past five months, Hermione has been training as a Mediwizard at St. Mungo's. Every week, Monday through Friday, Hermione apparates in the alley behind the condemned department store around five forty-five in the morning and makes her way through the usual curves and corners until she comes across a naked, inanimate, mannequin.
"Good morning! How do you do?" Hermione nodded her head, acknowledging the unclothed figure in front of her. "We really need to stop meeting like this. People will start talking and I'm only barely coming to terms with the fact that you are an exhibitionist!" She snickered at her own one-sided conversation and then positioned herself to the right of the mannequin. "May I please be allowed inside St. Mungo's?" She then walked forward four steps and a blinding blue light passed before her eyes, signaling that she gained access to the ground floor level of the wizard hospital.
A Welcome Witch greets her with a genuine smile and, having noticed her lime green robes, welcomes Hermione back into the hospital. "So great to see you again, Healer Granger. I hope you have a wonderful day."
"Thank you, Greta. You, as well." Hermione smiled back and made her way through the halls towards the elevators to get to her floor.
As she walked further into the hospital, passing rooms that housed ill patients, moans and sporadic screams followed behind her. The first floor contained those affected with Artefact Accidents. These witches and wizards experienced accidents dealing with cauldron explosions and wands backfiring. "Ron would have been placed here if his slug vomiting hadn't been under control," she always thought as she passed the ward, finally reaching the elevator doors. She stepped inside and pressed a button to take her to the fourth floor, Spell Damage.
Arriving an hour before the start of the first shift, she exited onto her floor and was immediately met with chatter buzzing all around her. The night shift Healers were passing report to the day shift Healers so conversations were happening around every corner. Hermione walked towards the break room to find some coffee and hopefully a donut. Bitter and sweet were her favorite combination of flavors in the morning. She felt that probably had to do with the fact that she loved black coffee and glazed donuts.
"And why not start the morning with something that you love," she thought happily as she lifted the lid to a box and found three rows of warm, fresh, aromatic, donuts.
"Hey Hermione! How's it going?" A Mediwizard barged into the break room and yawned out his question as he plopped down on a chair and hoisted his big feet on top of the communal table. His name was Michael Corner and he worked the night shift at St. Mungo's. His thick, dark, shaggy hair was tied back in a half bun, bringing out the bags under his warm hazel eyes. His robes were wrinkled and stained with an assortment of colors made from who knows what. Hermione thought she saw a hole burned into his backside.
"Was it an eventful night?" She asked as she bit into her donut.
"You could say that. You know we always get the crazies during my time on the floor. But I love it! The suspense of the unknown is what gets me going." Michael exclaimed standing up and making his way towards the counter to fix himself a cup of coffee and grab a donut.
"You're nuts! I would be a wreck and a zombie if I worked your hours. I don't know how you do it, Michael. I couldn't manage," Hermione confessed.
Michael shrugged, "You get used to it. But you know what?! After this shift I am out for the next two and a half weeks! It's about time you came into my life, Hermione, because now I can take a real vacation. And perfect timing, too, since this is the day that there is going to be a meeting about a patient staying here in the hospital. Apparently this case is now bringing in people from all departments. I'm not familiar with it, but I hear the patient is a V.I.P. Fortunately I'm excused from this mandatory meeting since I'll be gone for the next couple of weeks." He smiled from ear to ear.
"Interesting," she thought out loud. "I wonder who the wizard or witch is? What floor have they been on?" Hermione stared into nothingness, envisioning the rarest of diagnoses and wondering how she would go about treating them.
"Second floor, Magical bugs and Diseases. I can only assume it has to do with diseases because Magical Bugs hardly ever have any good cases," Michael answered. He brushed off his robes and made his way out the door to return to his post. "I have thirty more minutes and then I'm free," he grinned as he glanced down at his watch. "See you in two weeks, Hermione. Have fun at the meeting."
Several hours later, Hermione found herself sitting in the back of a room filled with thirty people talking amongst themselves. Chairs were lined up in rows and faced a small stage with a single podium placed in the middle of it. People could be heard exchanging theories with one another as they all tried to rationalize who the mystery patient is. She overheard two senior witches talking beside her and Hermione decided to eavesdrop on them.
"It has to be Minerva. You know I spoke with her through the Floo Network about two months ago and she looked wretched. She seemed edgy and a bit pale. She adamantly refused anything was wrong with her, though. Being Headmistress and all, I'm sure the stress that comes along with it must have finally caught up with her."
"I highly doubt it's Professor McGonagall," Hermione thought as she rolled her eyes at the Healer's accusations.
"No, I don't believe it's Minerva," replied the other aging witch. "I saw her personally two weeks ago and she never looked better. You can't always rely on the Floo Network when you're looking for signs of illness, Agora. Now, don't go around telling everyone but I heard that it's a Malfoy." The witch named Agora stared back with wide curious eyes in response to her friend's confession.
"Where did you hear that, Martha?" Agora leaned in closer to her confidant, and Hermione felt her body sway towards their direction as well.
Martha whispered to her friend, "You know Bob, the guy on the second floor who cleans the rooms once a patient has been discharged? Well he said that he was in a room about a month ago when he overheard the Head Mediwizard talking outside the door about 'this Malfoy case' being 'too complicated'. He told me this yesterday morning when we were in the cafeteria. I don't see why he would lie about this, either. I mean why would he?"
"A Malfoy?! Well, no wonder they need so many Healers here in this meeting. You would think that we didn't have other people to help save," Agora commented with a snarky tone.
Hermione felt herself agree with the wizard, and instinctively placed her hand over the scar on her forearm. Just then the door to the conference room swung open. The Head Mediwizard entered the room and made her way towards the podium. She raised her wand towards her throat and a warm white light began glowing at the tip. She cleared her throat, the sound filling the entire room, signaling to the crowd that she was prepared to speak.
"Thank you, everyone, for sharing your time with me. I appreciate you joining me in this last minute meeting. I know we are all very busy so I will get right down to business." She waved her wand around the room and envelopes folded into planes soared towards each person and floated above their heads. Hermione plucked the levitating papers out of the air and unfolded the parchments.
"In your hands you will find the case study of a woman who shall remain anonymous for now. She is married and has a child that was born in this hospital. Other than that single admittance, she was brought here five years ago with complaints of having difficulty breathing. According to her it came all of a sudden while she was getting ready in the morning. Her family brought her in once they figured out their home remedies would not work. She received the Spiritus Elixir upon arrival and was cured instantly. She returned home that day and didn't have another episode until a year later. Now these bouts of breathlessness are returning more frequently. This year alone she has been admitted eight times and is now being treated with the same elixir as well as other spells and potions. However, everything we give her is only briefly managing her symptoms now. She has been staying in the hospital for the past month at the request of the family and the patient. She has been requiring immediate treatment and so it was necessary to keep her here until her symptoms have been managed appropriately. Now, it has come to my attention, and of those competent Mediwizards whom have been treating this patient since day one, that help is going to be needed elsewhere. The spells and elixirs used to treat this patient have been listed in the documents you have received. I am asking that you all please provide your valued input once you reviewed the case on your own. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this issue. Thank you for your time." Her wand's light dimmed as she lowered it to her side. With a small smile and a nod of her head, she walked off the podium and left the room with a small entourage.
The room immediately roared to life once the door closed behind her. Papers were being rustled, passing from hand to hand as people tried to absorb and make sense of the information provided to them. You could tell these brilliant minds were churning ideas around and around, shaking their heads with dismay as they shut down the bad ones. Hermione was scanning through her paperwork, trying to read into the what the information was telling her about the patient. She kept finding herself focusing in on the symptoms and couldn't help but feel her muggle mind takeover. Suddenly, she got up from her seat and followed after the Head Mediwizard.
"Excuse me, Healer Hope! Excuse me!" Hermione took off at a run to catch up to the witch. She slowed her steps once she caught up and tapped the witch's shoulder. "Healer Hope, may I please have a word with you?" Breathing heavily and sweating a bit, Hermione attempted to straighten herself out as the witch turned towards her.
"I'm sorry, Healer Hope. I know you're needed elsewhere and so I was just wanting to catch you before you left the premises. I was hoping to have a quick word with you about this case."
The Head Healer raised a single, questioning eyebrow towards her as she leaned into a wizard whispering furiously into her ear. She pursed her lips and kept her eyebrow arched. Hermione instinctively brushed off her robes, feeling the Head Healer scrutinizing her appearance.
"Thought of something already, Healer Granger? Do keep up!" With a turn of her heel, the witch continued forward with her entourage, Hermione following behind. "So tell me, what does a muggle doctor, that has only trained as a Healer for five months, think should be done to help the patient? It was not that long ago when the Minister told me about you and this new program he wanted to implement here. Quite frankly I never thought that it would happen. Next thing I know he shows up in my office with plans to have you come on board and bring in some 'forward and progressive ideas'." Healer Hope raised both hand ups in the air and made her air quotes with a sarcastic demeanor. She continued, "And to my surprise, regardless of my arguing that you have been out of wizard school for years, he insisted that you become a member of MY staff! Apparently you are one of a kind, Healer Granger. Now, tell me, what do you think should be done to save this patient?"
Healer Hope stopped walking at this point and her group continued forward, disappeared around the corner leaving their leader behind. She faced Hermione and crossed her arms over her chest, her feet spread shoulder width apart as she squared up to her employee. Healer Hope was a short stout witch with strawberry-blonde hair that was fashioned into a long wavy bob. Hermione assumed she was in her sixties, but honestly had no clue since she has been the Head Healer for St. Mungo's years before Hermione was born. What she does know about Healer Hope is that she exudes an air of confidence and superiority, just like Kingsley, but this woman is a force to reckon with at all times. She was blunt, intimidating, and powerful.
Hermione could feel the hairs behind her neck stand on end as she searched her thoughts for the right answer. She mumbled and stuttered for a bit and then finally began her reasoning on why she should treat this patient. "The patient is exhibiting signs of dyspnea, also known as labored breathing. Now her condition is what I would call chronic, meaning that it is something that has existed for a while, since she's been complaining of these symptoms for years. However, these bouts of breathlessness, I feel, are acute episodes of her chronic condition. I am proposing to have her come to my lab so that I may run some tests on her. There I would be able to find out what is going on with her biologically and see how we could help her magically. The lab has been ready for weeks and I feel that this is the best chance that this patient has to finding out what is really wrong with her and relieving her of this problem," Hermione replied matter-of-factly, her chest puffed out and her cheeks flushed now that her veins were running on adrenaline. She exhaled deeply and looked away from the Head Healer's penetrating stare for a second, calming her heart rate now that her fight of flight autonomic responses began to fade. She looked back up at her superior and felt that Healer Hope's scrutinizing gaze, paired with her arched judging eyebrow, would be the only response to her solution in helping the patient.
"Hmmm, I will keep in touch," Healer Hope replied flippantly. With a turn of her heel she walked down the corridor, leaving Hermione with her heart pounding and wondering if she made a positive impact on the Head Healer's already poor opinion of her.
The next day Hermione arrived to work and found a memo addressed to her hovering inside the elevator. She opened up the letter and smiled once she finished reading it.
Healer Granger,
Your presence will be needed at 0900 in the consult room this morning. You will be proposing your treatment options to the patient and her family. Be prepared for questions and please be prompt.
Respectfully,
Healer Alicia Ursula Willow Hope, Head Mediwizard of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies
Grinning from ear to ear, she crumpled the note into her pocket and made her way towards the breakroom. She felt ecstatic and a bit apprehensive about her chances with helping this patient find a cure. Her excitement stemmed from thoughts of her finally having the chance to prove her worth to everyone in this hospital, especially Healer Hope. Yet, she was apprehensive about pursuing these treatments because there is always the possibility of failure. After collecting her donut and coffee, she tried her best to rid herself from these negative thoughts as she made her way into her usual chair and began to plan for the arrival of her patient.
It was eight fifty-five and Hermione was pacing back and forth inside the consult room, her lime green robes billowing and flowing with a whirl as she changed her direction every six steps. She was mumbling out loud to herself as she ticked off her fingers over and over, only to become frazzled and restart her mumbling over again.
"Relax, Hermione, everything is going to be okay," replied a wizard in olive green robes. A witch with the same colored robes sat in the corner of the room watching silently, twiddling her thumbs as she waited for the door to swing open. Hermione had a staff of twelve to assist her with the program an are all muggleborns since they were most familiar with muggle medicine thus being easy enough to train. Kingsley also had these people venture into the muggle education systems to become accomplished in their new careers. For this meeting, however, Hermione only requested her two most competent lab technicians, Will and Letty, to join the consultation for support and to answer any questions the family might have with testing and procedures.
"I know Will, but I am just so nervous. This is it, you know. This is what we were trained to do and now it's happening. This is so different compared to the muggle world; don't you think? I'm a bit jittery right now, too. Maybe I shouldn't have had three cups of coffee and two donuts today. But it's okay. We'll be okay. They'll hear what I have to say and then go for it. It's finally happening. I can't believe it!" Hermione stopped pacing and made her way to sit in an arm chair, staring down at her watch as the second hand clicked its way to another minute, her leg jumping up and doubling in rhythm to the seconds as she anticipated the start of this groundbreaking meeting.
Finally, the door swung open and Healer Hope made her way into the room. Hermione and her two technicians stood up immediately, nodding their heads in acknowledgement. Finally, the patient was wheeled into the room and her family followed after. Instantly, Hermione's feelings of hopefulness and optimism began to drain out of her. She felt her wide, excited smile melt into a forced haphazard toothy sneer. Feeling eyes were on her, she tried to regain her composure and offered a small nod with thin straight lips. Her heart sank into her stomach and a small wave of nausea crept up on her as the patient, whose platinum blonde hair sported a striking black streak down the middle of her head, was wheeled in front of her. Another woman with dark, voluminous black curls was ushered in as two men with strikingly similar features made their way inside the room, closing the door behind them. For a long second, Hermione stared at the Malfoys in disbelief and a bit of trepidation in this surreal situation. Being one of the oldest pure-blood families, she knew that anything muggle related that was going to be brought up had a high possibility of being shut down immediately. She braced herself for introductions.
"Why me," she thought morosely once the door closed behind them.
"Mrs. Malfoy and family, I would like to introduce you to one of our newest Mediwizards, Healer Granger. She is specializing in Spell Damage at this hospital and holds a degree as a medical doctor in the muggle community as a cardiologist. Healer, you may start when ready." The Head Mediwizard, gestured towards the Malfoys to take a seat in the empty chairs and she herself sat down beside them to hear what the muggleborn witch had to say.
Hermione felt her palms begin to sweat and a flash of heat lined her cheeks once all eyes were upon her. Her heart raced with what she hoped would be abnormal arrhythmias, only because she longed for the chance of a clot forming and ending her moment with these people. Normally, she was in her element. She had no trouble during her time at Johns Hopkins in taking the lead and making the plan known precisely and clearly. Today, however, her audience threw her for a loop.
Narcissa straightened her posture, her back ramrod straight as she held her chin high. Her uniquely colored hair was styled in a tight chignon and she wore a satin black and blue house robe with a sash that tied around her waist, along with matching house slippers. Her husband, Lucius Malfoy, was seated to her right side. He was dressed in ornately embroidered charcoal robes with matte black shoes that matched the paint to his new cane. His hair was slicked back perfectly and tied in a ponytail with a black ribbon. He sat with indifference to his surrounding company and kept an air of nonchalance as he stared straight ahead. Draco Malfoy sat behind his mother, only an arm's reach away. His eyes filled with worry as he fondly stroked his mother's backside. To Hermione's surprise he was the only one not wearing robes. He paired shiny brown loafers with a brown belt, both adding contrast against his navy blue slacks. His white crisp collared shirt had a gray tie resting against the middle of his chest while his navy blue blazer lay folded against the backside of his chair. The woman to his right was Astoria Malfoy, his wife. She wore mint and white silk robes that had embroidered magenta flowers lining the floor of the gown and a charm that made the flowers appear to float up her backside. The family looked immaculate, as though they were dressed for the cover of Witch Weekly. "Draco more so Vogue," Hermione thought randomly as she glanced once again at his muggle attire. Shaking her head, Hermione straightened out her robes and took a deep breath as she prepared herself to address the Malfoy Matriarch.
"Mrs. Malfoy, it is a pleasure to meet you," Hermione surprised herself that this was said genuinely and not through gritted teeth. "I have come across plenty of people with your symptoms and I feel that there is an alternative way to look for your cure. You are what the medical community would refer to as being dyspneic, and this is just a fancy way to say that you're in the act of having some difficulty with breathing. Based on the information that Healer Hope provided to me, I can only assume that you're exhibiting symptoms of a chronic condition that is being exacerb-"
"Healer Hope what is this? What is she talking about? Chronic and dyspn- whatever? I have no idea what she's talking to me about. I don't understand any of those words. They sound made up honestly. Is she speaking English?" Narcissa interjected as she looked at Healer Hope, clearly ignoring Hermione.
"Yes, I'm not understanding what she is saying either. What is it that you're proposing here, Healer Hope," Lucius asked, disregarding Hermione. The older Malfoys then began to talk out loud all at once, raising their concerns to Healer Hope only.
"And pretty much insinuating a mudblood wouldn't know how to help her," Hermione thought, disgusted with herself that she allowed these people to disrespect her in this way.
Her pupils dilated into round black orbs and her skin singed with a rage she had only felt just once before; funny enough, it was a Malfoy to blame for making her feel this way. She clenched her fists her knuckles whitening as she squeezed her fingernails deep into her palms. She should have known that this was going to happen. "After all, it is a mudblood lecturing them on what they should do about their health," Hermione thought bitterly. Her Gryffindor courage and righteousness began to slowly emanate from her body; she felt as though she were a glowing golden aura, her rage developing into assertiveness and control. Finally, she found her voice and raised it over the commotion.
"Excuse me!" Hermione yelled, her voice reverberating against the bare walls throughout the room, startling the present company enough to have them turn around and look up at her, eyes wide and mouths agape. She stared back with furrowed brows and an assertive stare. She continued, "I wasn't finished. And since I am the one leading this consult, I would appreciate if all questions were brought to MY attention, not to Healer Hope. Now, what I was saying is that I believe you have a condition where your body is not allowing you to breathe properly because of how your heart is working. And since it has been happening for quite a while without any notice as to when it starts, I am proposing that I inspect your body, inside and out. Once all tests are finalized I should be able to come up with a diagnosis. Upon diagnosis, we will have a better chance in finding a specific treatment for you, either through muggle medicine or magic, to control your condition or rid you from it, hopefully, forever." She felt her chest rise and fall as she breathed heavily, her sugar-rush mixed with adrenaline was finally dissipating. Mentally fatigued she sat down in her chair and placed her elbow on the armrest with her hand resting against her chin, waiting, almost hoping, for someone to ask her a question.
The Malfoys stared back in amazement at Hermione Granger. Never had anyone spoke to them in that manner during their stay here in this hospital. Healer Hope stared back curiously at the younger witch and secretly applauded her staff member. Finally, it was Astoria who broke the silence.
"What do you mean that you are going to inspect her body from the inside?" Her voice was delicate and sincere. Hermione was a little taken aback with her politeness.
"Well, I am hoping to do a procedure called an X-ray to determine if there are any noticeable anatomical abnormalities in her chest cavity. I also need to collect some of her blood, both from her veins and her arteries, so that way I can see what is going on with, for lack of a better description, the plumbing." Hermione felt she was losing her audience the second she mentioned she needed to collect blood. The look of horror on all the Malfoys' faces said it all.
"Blood? What kind of sorcery will you be doing, Granger," Lucius spat as he brought his wife's hands into his own in his attempt to calm Narcissa's nerves. "Speaking for this family, we are not interested in getting my wife mixed up in any type of dark magic, regardless of what you can assume our past history with the dark arts consist of." He gritted his teeth at that last comment and looked at Hermione with challenging eyes.
Trying her hardest to keep her composure, she got up from her chair and walked up to Narcissa. She knelt down on one knee and made sure she was eye level with the woman. She looked into her eyes and saw that there was a hint of fear and intrigue. Hermione placed her hand on Narcissa's wheel and made her plea. "I am not talking about doing any kind of magic at this moment, and dark magic will never be used as a treatment method, Mrs. Malfoy. I can promise you that much. Every instrument that will be used to collect samples from your body is sanitized and muggle made. I will gladly explain every procedure and every piece of equipment to you to the best of my ability. My staff here will be more than happy to do the same and I'm sure they would be better at it than me. They are very proficient in what they do and are knowledgeable individuals. You will be working closely with Will and Letty, as well as eight other individuals, since they will be performing the procedures themselves. I will be supervising everything and be with you every step of the way. If you would like Healer Hope present during your procedures, just to put your mind at ease, then we can do that. But I need you to understand, Mrs. Malfoy, that I respect your decisions and if you choose to not undergo any procedure then I will honor your request. But from my professional opinion, I am suggesting that we run some tests to see if muggle medicine will benefit you. And if something turns up to suggest that muggle medicine would be beneficial, I promise to not disperse treatment unless you, and only you, have given consent."
Narcissa Malfoy looked away from Hermione and stared back at her husband. His apathetic features provided Hermione with nothing to determine what was going on in his mind. "May we have the room to ourselves to discuss our options," Lucius asked as he continued to stare at his wife.
"Of course, take as much time as you need," replied Healer Hope. The Healers left the room, leaving the family to talk amongst themselves. Hermione felt the energy drain from her body the moment she closed the door behind her. She knew that they would place a Silencing charm to avoid eavesdropping so there was no point in her trying to press her ear against the door. She pressed her back against the wall and felt her knees give way and slide her down to the floor. "Letty, Will, you both can leave. I really doubt there is anything else that's going to be done here. I appreciate you coming today." The two lab techs shrugged and waved their goodbyes.
Healer Hope stood across from Hermione. She stared intently at the witch crumpled up on the floor, not saying a word or necessarily blinking her eyes. She was trying to figure her out. "You did good in there. I think you have them considering your treatment options."
Hermione lifted her head and gawked back at the witch with disbelief. "You really think so? I honestly think they're going to shoot me down. I have a history with this family, one that I think will play a factor in their decision making. Ironically, it has to do with blood, too." Hermione chuckled awkwardly as she slid her hand under the sleeve of her robes. She absentmindedly fingered the lettering of her hypertrophic scar, staring off in the distance, reminiscing on thoughts filled with fear and blood curdling screams of torture. "I wouldn't blame them, though. They're set in their ways and that's something that I have never had any control of, regardless of what I did to prevent otherwise."
"Do you know what the Malfoys are to wizarding London, Ms. Granger?"Healer Hope asked curiously. Shaking her head out of her stupor, Hermione picked herself up off the floor and focused her attention on Healer Hope. "Since your absence from the wizard community, they have made a favorable name for themselves. Once acquitted from all crimes dealing with Vo-Voldemort, thanks in part to your friend Mr. Potter, they seemed to turn over a new leaf. They were the first pureblood family to use their wealth to help rebuild the wizard community. Eventually other pureblood families began to volunteer their funds and time in aiding those that needed it. Soon the Malfoy's developed a foundation to help those in need post war. They were also the main family to contribute in rebuilding Hogwarts. And I don't mean only monetarily, but physically help rebuild Hogwarts. Draco and Lucius were out with the rest of the community laying bricks and transporting stones while Narcissa and Draco's wife, Astoria, made sure the landscape was appealing, as well as the décor inside the castle. Today, Lucius and Malfoy conduct their business within the Ministry and Narcissa and Astoria are into their charity work. The Malfoy name is now synonymous with philanthropy and commitment. They're even expanding their bloodline; Astoria is expecting a boy in the next four months."
Hermione stared back at her superior in awe. She has been living and coexisting in the wizard community for the past five months already and she is only now realizing that she has absolutely no clue about what is going on in the wizarding world. How could Harry or Ron not bother mentioning this big change to the Malfoy name? Not that she cares about the Malfoys or what any other people are doing with their lives, but she felt that maybe this tidbit on the Malfoy family would have been convenient to know.
The door creaked open and Draco popped his head out. "We have made our decision." He stepped out of the doorway and held it open for the two women. Healer Hope made her way inside and Hermione was about to enter until Draco began to look up and down the hallway. "Will the others be joining us?"
Hermione was a little stunned, being addressed by Draco Malfoy in a civil manner was odd amd unsettling. "No, unless you feel the need to have them explain something specifically then I can summon them."
"No, no, that's not necessary." He gestured with his hand for her to go through the door and she entered without another word.
"Healer Granger, Healer Hope," Narcissa spoke in an eloquently smooth voice. "I have spoken with my family and I have a few questions that need to be answered before I decide on continuing with your suggestions."
Hermione unapologetically smiled and exclaimed, "Of course Mrs. Malfoy. Please continue."
"I want to be sure that I have a say in what you suggest should be done to me. If at any point I feel that a procedure would not benefit me, even after you explain the technique to me and my family, then my reply of no will be my final answer. I am a stubborn women and do not wish to argue the reasoning behind my reluctance. Now, in the off chance that recovery is not in my future, I need to know what type of interventions will be performed to aid in the continuation of my life." Lucius reached out for his wife's hand as she choked out her last statement.
"Talking about death is a taboo subject for families, whether you're muggle or magic folk," Hermione thought as she noticed Astoria grab for Draco's hand at the mention of Narcissa's demise. "I understand your concerns and your requirements, Mrs. Malfoy. We will thoroughly go over the documentation needed to proceed with your treatment and I will gladly take your opinions and wishes into consideration. As for the case in life or death, we can provide limited interventions or we can do everything within our power, whether it be through muggle or magical treatments, to make sure that you remain alive. You don't have to make a decision right now but know that there are options."
"I wish for you to do everything within your power to keep me alive. I have a grandson on the way and a daughter-in-law that will require help raising him. My family needs me and so I expect you to keep me thriving," Narcissa stated decisively. Like a lioness defending her pride, Narcissa raised her chin a tad bit higher, challenging Hermione to deny her demands.
Hermione contemplated for a moment on the Malfoy family. Lucius Malfoy was staring at his wife with a look of worry, quickly recovering into a mask of indifference. Draco on the other hand didn't hide his feelings. His brows furrowed with concern and his frown was even more pronounced when he noticed his wife lovingly stroke her conspicuous baby bump.
"If it comes down to it Mrs. Malfoy, my staff and I will do everything within our power to keep you alive."
Thank you for reading, reviewing, and following! Constructive criticism is always welcome. -A