Chapter 1

Draco didn't want to die. He also didn't want to trust Hermione Granger, either.

"What are you going to do to me?" he gasped, clutching the side of his hospital bed, trying to sit himself up, but struggling to breathe.

"I am going to intubate you," Hermione replied calmly, without glancing up. She was expertly flipping through the drawers of the code cart, removing items as she went and lining them up neatly on top.

Draco whimpered. He was too frightened to care that he looked weak in front of the witch he detested since childhood for her holier-than-thou attitude.

He felt, rather than saw, the color drain out of his face. He struggled through the feeling to whisper.

"Help."

This time she did look up, and met his eyes quickly. She then stood up from her crouched position by the lowest drawer, and calmly and quickly walked over to him. But instead of strangling him, as he thought she might do, she calmly pressed the big red button by the head of Draco's bed.

Suddenly loud, annoying alarms began to call – "Code blue on South 7. Code blue on South 7."

Nurses and healers began filtering into his room, until there were almost what seemed to be 20 people crowding around him. A low excited chatter could be heard, and a nervous energy could be palpably felt.

Hermione Granger called out: "I am the healer running this code. Medea, please record all events. It is 11:34 in the morning. Jane, I need you to draw 1 milligram of epinephrine. Puck, please come to the head of the bed in case I need your assistance while I intubate. I will be using the 8.0 cuffed ET tube. Tia, please hang a bag of normal saline now and administer with push-pull as quickly as you can.

"Draco," she addressed him now, "Can you hear me?" she spoke to him calmly and gently.

Draco was starting to panic. When he woke up this morning, everything was fine. Now he was dying. Coding. And he would die looking into Hermione Granger's offensively gigantic brown eyes.

He tried to tell her to sod off, but only moaned in response. How embarrassing. She continued to speak to him gently as if his life wasn't slipping away before her very eyes.

"I am going to intubate you, but before I do that, I will sedate you and paralyze you. You will not feel any pain. The paralysis is not permanent. When your lungs are healed, we will remove the breathing tube."

And then as quickly as she finished this speech, she ordered a nurse to push ketamine, followed by rocuronium.

Everything went black.

XXX

Hermione sat quietly in her special corner, hidden partially from the nurses' station. She was writing furiously, eager to finish her documentation before she had to sign out to the next team.

Patient is a 29-year-old wizard with an extensive history of atopy, including asthma and allergies, who presents with acute hypoxic respiratory failure and shock secondary to a biologic attack while walking to work…

Hermione paused. She still couldn't believe that she had to intubate Draco Malfoy today. Draco freaking Malfoy. It was insanity. She hadn't seen him in over ten years, not since their 8th year at Hogwarts together. She'd been surprised at how quiet and withdrawn he'd been then, but had chalked it up to the awkwardness of his situation post-war. His family had been very lucky—more like very rich—to get out of an Azkaban sentence at the time. She had predicted that Draco had been told by his father to keep his head down in true Malfoy fashion. She was also head-over-heels in love with Ron at the time, so she wasn't actually paying attention to Malfoy…

Attacker unknown. Aurors actively investigating. Intubated with an 8.0 cuffed, 20cm at the teeth. Vent settings are…

Hermione paused. It was almost 7 o'clock, and she had to finish this quickly so she could round briefly on all of her patients. She scribbled in the ventilator settings and the sedation plan before rolling up the parchment and stuffing it in her white coat pocket. She walked quickly from room to room, examining each patient and checking that everything was in order before she stopped in front of Malfoy's room. It felt just straight up weird to be looking at him now that the adrenaline had worn off. She knew she was very good at affecting calm when in reality she was having a melt down inside. She hated intubations. She hated codes too, much less having to call one.

Working in St. Mungo's had always been her childhood dream, ever since she learned of its existence. Prior to becoming a witch, she would play with barbies only to pretend the "doctor" and "nurse" barbies were treating a fatal illness in the "patient" barbie. Even though Hermione had immense respect for all of her nurses, she was glad she was a healer. She didn't think she could stand to do half of the things they did, which were vital to patient care.

For example, someone would have to change Malfoy's bed pan tomorrow morning…

Hermione blushed. Gross. She actually felt sorry for him as she put her stethoscope to his chest. It was magically enhanced to allow her to hear everything louder. She could clearly hear his heart beat, which was normal, but his breath sounds were horrid. His lungs were completely trashed by whatever they had attacked him with. She frowned and lightly draped his blanket back over his skin.

He looked so human. And cold. He definitely felt cold.

She considered telling his nurse to provide him with a warm blanket but figured it would be easier and faster to just do it herself. She left his room for the supply closet, and picked out a thick blanket. She walked back and laid it on him gingerly, and cast a quick warming charm that she liked, because it lasted more than 12 hours and never made her sweaty.

She was helping Malfoy. Malfoy. She almost laughed. Ten years ago she would have balked at the idea, but now that she had almost completed healer training, which was even more vigorous than the muggle equivalent of medical school, she knew that it was her solemn duty to help all those that asked for it (even if they couldn't physically ask for it).

In truth, she would heal Voldemort himself if he walked through the hospital doors.

With these thoughts floating in her head, she quickly performed the magical assessment spells to check every organ system in Malfoy's body. Kidney function was reassuring. Lungs were a mess. No curses that she could find placed on his mind or his heart. Liver enzymes were within normal limits.

She walked out, ready to sign out to Michael Corner, the senior resident who would be taking over tonight. She wanted to go home and snuggle Crookshanks. She smiled, feeling lucky that she had a half-Kneazle cat. This meant his lifetime was much longer than a normal pet, although she didn't really consider Crookshanks her pet, but more so her friend.

The conversation with Corner was too long. He always asked the most annoying and sometimes downright unprofessional questions. When she gave him report on Malfoy for example, he made a joke about tweaking his sedation enough to get back at him for being such a git in school.

Hermione shot him a deathly look that shut him up pretty quickly. He cleared his throat awkwardly and read the information back as quickly as he could so Hermione would leave. She was honestly glad to go. Michael Corner was the worst.

XXX

Hermione flooed into her flat, glad to finally be home for about 10 seconds before she saw a flash of red hair. She groaned.

"Hermiooooneeeeee!" Ginny sing-songed in an exaggerated fashion, turning her attention to the floo.

"Hey Ginny," Hermione responded tiredly, looking at one of her oldest friends, sitting next to her husband, Harry, and Ron, her brother.

"Hi Harry," she continued, "and Ron," she added, tiredly slipping her shoes off her feet.

"Thanks for the afterthought," Ron responded sarcastically with a big smile as Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Where's Charity?" she asked him, as she strode toward the kitchen. She needed tea. Now.

"She's sleeping. Super pregnant. Super mean." Ron paused, "please don't tell her I said that." His ears turned red. Hermione laughed.

"Ron it's the second time she's pregnant in as many years, so I definitely don't blame her." Hermione joked. Ginny and Harry laughed and Ron's ears turned even more red, if that was even possible. Harry made a borderline crude joke about practicing his protection spells and Ginny smacked him with a sofa cushion.

"Oi! Harry, that's my brother!" Ginny groaned and Ron looked as if he wanted to die on the spot. Hermione smiled. She loved her friends.

Things with Ron had been quite strained when they first broke up, but eventually, it had gotten easier. The first couple years after the war, she was so, so grateful she had Ron by her side. That year was—and not to be tongue-in-cheek—actually magical. Hermione had finally gotten to hold Ron's hand, talk to him late into the night, kiss him whenever his mother, Molly Weasley, wasn't watching. They processed all of their war trauma together. And at 19, Hermione truly felt that Ron would be the man she would marry. She knew that he felt that way too. She knew this because he told her so.

While those first years were very passionate, eventually the honeymoon phase passed. Hermione finished her 8th year at Hogwarts, and realized one morning that it had been two years since she finished her formal education and she hadn't pursued anything other than her low-level Ministry position. She missed reading, she missed learning. She started trying to motivate herself, and wanted to tell Ron all about it. He always listened patiently and kindly, and encouraged her to work hard.

But she could tell that he missed her. He just wanted to hang out. He wanted to go to Diagon Alley, grab ice cream, and laugh together. She wanted to do that for him, because she loved him. But the act of suppressing her ambition was killing her inside. And she could tell that Ron knew. He tried to give her space when she wanted it, and attention when she asked for it, but it wasn't enough, and Hermione felt like a total witch for it.

But in reality, she was frustrated. She knew she couldn't talk to Ron about the new exciting things she was learning in healer school, because she could feel that he was bored out of his mind, even though he was trying desperately to hide it. And she knew she could never do much for him when he wanted to talk about the Chudley Cannons, or an exciting new attack he learned in Auror training.

The differences just kept piling up. But they still loved each other.

Hermione loved him so much she didn't realize for at least a year that she wasn't in love with him anymore. And when it hit her, it hit her hard. She knew Ron would never, ever leave her. He was just too loyal. They had so much history together, they had literally been through a war together, and Hermione knew Ron would do anything for her, including staying by her side forever.

For a while, Hermione was selfish and continued her daily routines. She didn't tell Ron her realization, and she kept going to healer school and hanging out at the Burrow in the evening, studying while Harry and Ron played their evening game of chess. Looking back now, Hermione realized that at that time, only four years after the war, she just wasn't ready to give up her girlhood dream of growing old with her handsome friend.

Things changed however, when Charity started Auror training. Charity was beautiful, blonde as the sun, and goofier than even Ron. She loved Quidditch, and even shared the same favorite, yet unpopular team. When Ron first met her, he was exceedingly mean to her.

Hermione knew it was for her sake. Ron was just that loyal. Even though Hermione felt extremely self-conscious around Charity initially, Hermione found it impossible to hate her. Charity was kind, funny, and down to earth, despite the fact that she attended Beauxbatons prior to Auror training.

She was so wonderful, she eventually wore down Ron's attempt to be rude and they quickly became friends. Hermione started to see a lot of her, and it was hard not to compare herself to the younger witch. The chemistry she had with Ron was undeniable, although Ron tried very hard to deny it. They laughed at all the same things, they never argued, and one time when Hermione was watching the Aurors practice attacks, they seemed to even move in sync.

The guilt of trapping Ron in a relationship started to eat away at her. It seemed fine when she thought he had no one else in mind, but after meeting Charity, it felt cruel. It all came to a head when Hermione found Charity crying in the Ministry bathroom because Ron had yelled at her for some insignificant reason.

Hermione remembered feeling, OK… this is it. I can't do this to him anymore. He's in love with this girl and it's killing him…

Breaking up with Ron was the hardest thing she ever had to do, and she had fought Voldemort multiple times. He cried as much as she did and begged her not to. He denied up and down and swore he hated Charity, hated just the sight of her. Hermione cried and said she knew he never would do anything to hurt her, but it was unfair to keep going on like this.

The first year after the break up, Hermione questioned multiple times if she had done the right thing. Ron did not immediately start dating Charity like she thought he would, and she had lost her crutch and rock. She had to live alone now, and for the first time since school, she did truly feel alone. Healer school was hell without a support system, and she visited her parents often that year. Needless to say, her mum was extremely worried about her.

Eventually, the awkwardness and pain of being in the same room as Ron started to decrease in severity, and Christmas wasn't so terrible that Hermione felt she had to avoid the Burrow. George made ridiculous jokes to lighten the mood, and she found herself laughing despite herself. Ron seemed healthy, and had just received a promotion at work, so that was good too.

Things seemed to be starting to fall into place.

A couple years after they had broken up, Ron asked her if he could ask Charity out on a date. Hermione had cooly told him, "You can do whatever you want to do."

He had replied, "I want you to be happy."

She assured him with one her long lectures that his happiness would bring her happiness. That she was surprised he had waited this long. That he better act fast before she was scooped up by someone else taller, and more handsome. That had gotten a laugh out of him. She also threatened that she would never forgive him if he let his soulmate get away by starting nonsensical fights and throwing tantrums, and he solemnly swore to her that he wouldn't mess this up.

Despite her brave front, it was quite hard at first to swallow the fact that the girl standing next to Ronald Weasley at functions and parties was a petite blonde witch and not her. It just felt strange, and she felt a twinge of jealousy that was not easily crushed.

However, that was over four years ago. Hermione was proud to say that Charity was now one of her friends. It had taken some time to swallow the new addition, but over time, and a quick marriage and child later, it had happened.

Hermione poured tea into four identical cups and floated them over to each of her guests. Before she could say anything, Harry and Ron started telling Ginny exactly what had happened at the Ministry this morning.

"…It's wild, truly is. Malfoy got ambushed with some sort of yellow powder right at the ministry gates. Started coughing like crazy.

"couldn't catch the guy that did it… ran like hell to the apparition point…"

Hermione was catching bits of the conversation but stayed silent.

"…sent him to St. Mungo's…"

"Well, Hermione," Ginny turned to her, "how was your day?"

"Fine," Hermione answered, taking a sip from her yellow chintz cup.

"Oh, come on!" Ron exclaimed, "tell us what happened with that git, I know you saw him!"

"You know I can't discuss any patient information, Ron." Hermione answered.

Ron groaned in an exaggerated fashion. Harry continued, "We have no leads, no clues… we weren't even able to collect any of the powder that did him in…

"Actually," Harry turned away from his wife to look at Hermione, "We'll be at St. Mungo's tomorrow to investigate," he said in an official tone.

"I look forward to seeing you." Hermione replied, solemnly placing her cup with a soft clink on its matching saucer.

XXX

Author's note: thanks for reading chapter 1! Really just setting the stage here for my universe. Please leave a review to motivate me, leave feedback, and critique! Lots of love, xx