Hello, hello, thank you all for the favorites and follows! I hope you continue to enjoy the story.
I'm taking my own liberties for many things, mainly vampire canon in Harry Potter. There are only so many examples to base it on, so I'm adding my flairs and whatnot. It may make little sense now, but hopefully, it will get more precise as the story progresses.
Enjoy~
Hermione exited her fireplace, dejected, tired, and in desperate need of a shower. And a drink. She shuffled through her small flat, making her way to her tiny kitchen. Crookshanks followed suit, meowing and purring, going in circles around her, occasionally rubbing up against her legs.
She smiled at her scraggly boy, bending down and picking him up. He wheezed and licked her chin. She set him on the counter, plopping a can of wet cat food into a bowl, scrunching her nose at the smell.
"Bon appetit," she cringed as he began to dig in. She procured her own treat. She grabbed her bottle of fire whiskey and started going at it. After a couple of seconds, her eyes began to water profusely.
She choked and gagged, slamming the bottle on the counter, spooking Crookshanks but not deterring him from his gross meal.
She let out a quiet sob, sinking to the floor and hugging her knees.
She remained there for a while, going over all today's events, Draco, Injin, Marietta, Harry… Pansy… The packet… She looked up and saw the thick package with the rest of the work she had brought home for the weekend.
She crawled over to her small dining room table, pulling the packet into her lap, the black lines making her slightly dizzy.
She began to flip through the behemoth.
Except what you need to know rang out in her head. The first bit that caught her attention was the word: vampire. The client was male, aged 20-30, turned five years back, pure-blood wizard…
Tricky case… all of her vampire patients were half-blood or muggle born. She needed to read up on how the pathophysiology of how vampirism affected pure-blooded wizards.
Five years… he'd been a vampire for five years and had never been seen by Hermione. It was impressive, to say the least. Still, if what Pansy said was true about the family being loaded, maybe they had exhausted all their other options.
Or maybe they didn't want their pure-blooded relative to be seen by a mud-blood… Her subconscious called out. She never referred to herself by that term unless she was unsure of herself and down on her luck… fitting for this situation, she thought, a sad smile on her face.
She continued reading, thinking, and formulating possible theories; they mentioned his feeding practices. Ironically, mud-blood blood kept him satiated the longest. Part of her relished that the very thing purebloods detest the most keeps them alive the longest.
The biological component intrigued her; she began scrawling notes and consulting her compendium, pulling out books on the topic and experiments run on specific subjects. Her hand writing things only she would understand and her brain at full speed.
She eventually succumbed to exhaustion in the very place she sat, her body literally shutting down at once like its battery had run out.
Hermione snored herself awake. She sat up from her piles of papers and books, drool pooled on an article in front of her, mixing with the ink of one of her sleep-deprived thoughts from the previous night. She stretched and rolled her shoulders, working out the kinks in her back that had developed throughout her body. She gazed at the daunting amount of parchment and books that now overran her small apartment.
Crookshanks let out a gruff meow; she smiled at him and stood, her joints popping and creaking as she made her way to her bathroom.
What she saw in the mirror wasn't her. It was a shell of her former self. God, how did she let herself get so bad? Drool and ink trailed down her neck, her hair stuck out every which way, her circles almost gave Malfoy a run for his money, and she, too, almost looked… dead.
She waved her wand to start her shower. She peeled her scrubs off and pooled them on the floor.
After a scalding hot shower and a face mask, Hermione rushed to her living room to see who was floo calling.
It was Pansy.
"Allow," she stated, watching Pansy step through her minuscule fireplace.
"Well, I hope you're not wearing that," Pansy pointed to the towel wrapped around Hermione.
"Wear this for what?" Hermione asked, removing the sheet mask from her face. Pansy scoffed.
"Potter said you were coming; you told me to-" Pansy cut herself off, "Merlin, Mione, what is all of this?" Pansy asked, nudging some paper with her boot.
"Research," Hermione said simply, "from the mystery patient you gave me yesterday, but don't change the subject; Harry said I'd be going where?"
"Out with us today? For drinks, hopefully. With Ginny?" Pansy stared at Hermione, who began to throw on clothes, but paused after she got her pants on.
"I thought that was Sunday?" She gave Pansy a quizzical look.
Pansy returned the same quizzical look, "Mione, it is Sunday."
Hermione's heart stopped for a second. She rushed over to her self-updating calendar, Sunday's date shimmered at her, and Saturday was crossed out. She ran a quick hand through her hand and sighed.
"Bloody hell…" she muttered, returning to Pansy, who was now sitting on the part of the couch that wasn't covered in her research, Crookshanks happily purring in her lap.
"I didn't forget, I promise," Hermione called, throwing on a shirt and hoodie, "just took a longer than expected nap," she trailed back into the living room, putting her trainers on and pulling her hair back into a bun.
Pansy stared up at her and gave her a small smile. Her black, glossy hair was cut in a perfect bob, her skin flawless and perfect, her make-up crisp and perfect, and she wore casual clothes, but the way she wore them made them look chic and trendy.
She just made Hermione feel… frumpy. Her trainers were tattered, and her hoodie had a stain in the front that wouldn't come out and clashed with the washed-out purple color the hoodie had become through years of usage.
"Where and when are we meeting?" Hermione asked, starting to clean up her research.
Pansy stood, holding Crookshanks still, his face happy and loudly purring; she checked her watch.
"In about ten minutes or so, Three Broomsticks, 'cause we are very original," Pansy smirked.
They entered the establishment five minutes later; the warm air was delectable and all-encompassing. It smelled like warm mutton and butter beer and felt like a warm hug.
"Over there," Pansy pointed to a booth in the back.
Hermione paused for a second. It was their booth. The one Ron, Harry, and she always sat at when they were in school.
She could see it; clearly, Ron and Harry were practicing charms and neglecting their homework, and she was tucked into multiple books and attempting to complete her daunting course loads.
They made their way over to the booth, Hermione not noticed by the members sitting at it; she was about to make her presence known when a fireball of pure chaotic energy crashed into her, nearly making her fall over.
"Blimey, Gin!" Harry laughed, "we want her to stay, not be run off to St. Mungo's,"
Ginny was hugging Hermione in an iron grasped hug. Hermione squirmed to breathe and attempted to hug Ginny back.
Ginny was crying and leaking snot all over Hermione; Hermione grimaced but was eventually able to get her arms around her, patting her back and tearing up a bit herself.
Ginny pulled away, her eyes puffy and her nose red.
"Oh, Mione, it's so good to see you!" she cried, pulling out her wand and scourgifying the snot and tears off Hermione's jumper, "you know it's cruel to only see you twice a year!" she pulled her back into a hug.
"I'm sorry, so sorry, just work and all," Hermione offered, waving her hand dismissively. Ginny nodded.
"Goodness, look at you! Mum would have a fit if she saw how much weight you've lost," Ginny commented, poking one of her long fingers into the same spot Harry had a couple of days ago, no doubt re-bruising.
Hermione was able to satiate Ginny with a couple more hugs before being able to turn to the rest of the group.
"Hullo, everyone," Hermione said, smiling at the whole table. Pansy sat next to Luna, who sat next to Neville and Hannah Abbott. Hermione had just found out they were dating, even though they had been dating for years. Ron sat next to Lavender Brown, his arm pulling her into him, and Harry and Ginny. Ginny impatiently patted the free space next to her, and Hermione scooted in next to her.
She gazed up at Lavender, one of her first patients, who was wearing a grateful smile toward Hermione.
After the battle of Hogwarts, many people were afflicted with curses. Ron found Lavender's nearly lifeless body, pulling her mangled body into his arms.
"Hermione, help! Please, do something!" he had cried to her. Hermione shook the memory from her mind.
Lavender Brown had a confirmed diagnosis. She was infected by Greyback and transformed every full moon and everything else that came with being a lycanthrope.
When Hermione's clinic opened, Lavender was practically waiting outside the door to be seen.
"The healers at St. Mungo… They don't understand what it's like," Lavender lamented, "Hermione, I swear they prescribed me flea and gnat shampoo," she had let out a sad laugh.
Hermione returned the smile to Lavender, a little shell-shocked to see her in public instead of in an exam room. She wore a turtle neck to hide the scars that permanently marked her body. The tips of the claw mark peeked out and shimmered in the light.
"Hello, Hermione," Luna said dreamily, her words floating in the air.
"Hello, Luna. How was the tour of Scotland?" Hermione inquired. Luna sighed whimsically.
"Oh, lovely, we found so many new creatures. Did you know that Whampusnogg's prefer red leaves more than green?" Luna asked, her face always pulled into a friendly and open expression.
Hermione shook her head, "can't say I did; I'll make sure to stock up on red leaves next time I go to Scotland."
"Oh, wonderful," Luna clapped lightly. Hermione swore she saw Pansy grinning like an idiot at Luna but quickly pulled her face back to her blank state.
"Neville," she turned to the herbologist, "goodness, you've grown!"
Neville blushed slightly and nodded, "bound to happen at some point," he joked, his teeth now perfect and pearly white instead of crooked and unruly. He held his hand up to Hannah.
"You've met Hannah before, Hermione?" Neville asked. Hermione nodded.
"Couple of times back in Hogwarts," she stated. "Lovely to see you again, Hannah."
Hannah wrung her hands slightly and nodded, "you as well," she mumbled. Hermione frowned slightly.
"Don't take it too personally, she's terribly shy and a big fan of yours," Neville smiled down at her, his eyes filled with pride and love, "she actually became a healer herself and just got the Matron of Hogwarts position, Madame Pomfrey just retired and put in a good word for her," Hannah elbowed him slightly, clearly embarrassed by his gushing of her.
"I'm happy for you, Hannah. I'm sure you'll do great," Hermione smiled at her, finally turning to Harry and Ginny. Ginny impatiently bounced in her seat.
"Okay, Ginn-" Ginny sprung out of her spot and was positively beaming.
"I don't mean to pull attention away from anyone or be 'that' person, but…" she looked down at Harry. He looked slightly embarrassed but profusing proud. She held her left hand to the table, jumping up and down, "we're engaged!" she shrieked excitedly.
A small moonstone sat between two emeralds in a silver band around her delicate finger. The ring glistened under the lights of the tavern. It was modest, so she could still wear it during practice, but it was elegant enough to stand out.
The table burst into well wishes and congratulations at the news. Pansy, Luna, and Lavender jumped and ran over to hug Ginny. Hermione joined in as well.
After a couple of minutes of bouncing and chattering, the girls started talking about wedding stuff (Hannah even joined in). The boys entertained themselves by talking about recent Quidditch matches.
"It's just lovely, Gin. Look how it sparkles," Pansy commented on the ring.
Hermione nodded, and then the room went still, all the noise and air ceasing to move. At least for her, Ginny had replied to the statement with her own comment, but Hermione didn't hear it. Her eyes had locked across the tavern to the open door. Draco Malfoy stood in the entryway, dusting snow off his coat and hanging it on the nearby rack. He was followed by Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Daphne Greengrass.
Hermione watched as they made their way to the other side of the bar; Blaise was the only one in the group to look over at the shrieking girls in Hermione's group.
Malfoy sat next to Blaise, and Theodore and Daphne sat across from them. They had put in an order for drinks and quietly talked about something.
"... What do you think, Hermione?" Ginny asked her, an expectant look on her face. All the noise came rushing in at once, blindsiding Hermione slightly. She blinked a couple of times and shook her head.
"Sorry, didn't catch that last bit," Hermione said, a slight flush to her cheeks.
Ginny gave a sad smile, slight worry coming to her complexion, "I had asked if it wasn't too much trouble because I know you're busy and all, but… would you be my maid of honor?" Ginny asked. Hermione's heart stopped beating.
"Oh, Ginny…" she said; Ginny's face remained slightly hopeful, "Of course, Ginny, I'd be honored," she stated, pulling Ginny into a hug.
Ginny squealed and returned the hug, crying again. Hermione smiled as she hugged Ginny, her eyes locked with Malfoy's across the bar. She was going to turn away from him; the less she acknowledged him, the better off they'd both be, but she couldn't look away from him. He was pulling her in, demanding her. She couldn't even blink. She wanted him, and he wanted her; if Ginny wasn't holding her in place, she would've been across the tavern, offering her body to him.
She heard her blood pounding in her ears and felt it rushing through her body. She felt her face growing hot, her core heating up, and her clothes becoming too hot for her body. Draco stared at her intently, a smirk plastered across his face.
"Mione?" She heard from somewhere, "Mione?" It called again.
She finally snapped out of whatever it was when Draco looked away from her, saying something to Theodore. She saw Theodore look over at her and laugh. She stared at them dumbfounded.
"Hermione!" Ginny said, waving her hand in front of her face. Hermione blinked rapidly and shook her head slightly.
"What, what?" She asked, flustered. Ginny frowned at her.
"N-nothing… just, you disappeared for a second," Ginny said, puzzled. Hermione glanced back at Draco, but he was still talking to his group.
"I'm sorry, just… drained… you were saying?" Hermione asked.
They joined the boys and spent the rest of the night drinking and recalling memories, covering current events and whatnot. Hermione missed all of this, her friends, not thinking about work constantly, and just… relaxing.
As the night continued and the happy buzz started to wear off, everyone began yawning, and their eyes began to glaze over.
"I hate to be a party pooper, but I'm exhausted…." Pansy said, stretching in the booth. Neville and Hannah nodded in agreement.
"What time is it?" Hermione asked, looking around for a clock.
"Way past bedtime," Pansy stated, looking at her watch, "unfortunately, we won't be getting much sleep tonight…" she lamented.
Hermione sighed and began gathering her things, following the group as they went outside. Draco and his posse had left about an hour ago. He didn't look over at her for the rest of the evening.
"See you soon?" Ginny asked Hermione hopefully. Hermione pulled her into a hug.
"Of course, Gin, now that we've got that wedding to plan," she smiled, squeezing her friend's hand.
"Take care of yourself, and don't be a stranger," Ginny said as Harry began pulling her away.
Ron and Lavender said their goodbyes before disapparating. Neville and Hannah did the same. Hermione watched Pansy pull Luna into a hidden alcove; their giggling echoed through the empty street.
Hermione decided to walk around and take in Hogsmeade before returning home.
She had passed Honeydukes when she heard, "staying out late, Dr. Granger?"
She turned and saw Malfoy step out of the shadows, a smile on his face, which was showing the hollows of his cheeks again, his hair slightly stringy.
"I could say the same, Representative Malfoy," she chided, "we have a busy day tomorrow."
He nodded, "that we do. I just find it to be better when the sun goes down, don't you?" he asked, looking up towards the sky.
Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "I suppose."
He held his arm out to her, "walk with me?"
She scoffed, "as if the last thing I would do is have you abduct me in the quiet streets of Hogsmeade late at night."
He still held his arm out to her, "the last thing I want to do is abduct you, Dr. Granger. It wouldn't look perfect for my image, nor will the copious amount of wards here let me,"
She gave him a stern look, staring into his eyes, wondering if what happened in the Three Broomsticks would happen again. It didn't.
She relented and grabbed his arm, only lightly touching it. He gave her a soft look and walked her in the direction she was previously headed.
"Where to, Dr. Granger?" he asked, staring down at her.
She shrugged her shoulders, "nowhere in particular, Representative Malfoy," she looked back up at him, "as you stated, it's better when the sun goes down, is it not?"
He grinned at her, actually grinned. She was so used to his sneers that it took her by surprise. His smile was… friendly. It was warm and welcoming.
She felt a small smile tease her lips, her grip on his arm tightening.
"So, Representative Malfoy," she said, "ready to undermine my clinic and enforce policies?"
He scoffed and shook his head, "I'm really not out to get you, Granger," he stopped walking and turned to her, looking at her earnestly; she had to avert her gaze, "I realized this isn't ideal, and I'm the last person to show my face to you, but I'm here to help you. I believe what you do is admirable, and I'm thankful I get to work with you, Dr. Granger."
She smiled, "that can't be possible. You work on the committee," he smiled and continued walking.
"Not everyone on the committee is bad. The fact that your clinic is still operating means you have people on your side," he said, elbowing her gently.
She released her grip on his arm and stopped walking; he turned and raised an eyebrow at her.
"As much as I've enjoyed this, I really should get some sleep," she said awkwardly, "and you too, you look… tired…" she offered.
He smiled and nodded, "you have my word, Dr. Granger. I'll see you tomorrow," he said, watching her as she disapparated.
Crookshanks ran over to her as she got home; she picked him up and set him on the bed.
She didn't know why, but her heart was racing, and her mind only made room for Draco Malfoy.