"She is elated you decided to meet with her," Pansy said, handing Hermione a sealed envelope in her office.
Hermione looked at the blank envelope and blank wax seal that fastened it shut. She grabbed it from Pansy and was about to open it.
"I wouldn't just yet," Pansy said glancing around, "it'll destroy itself after being read."
Hermione set the envelope in the top drawer of her desk, "She's elated?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at the witch.
"I'd say so, the finest healer in the world agreed to work on saving her son," Pansy chortled. Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes.
"Please, I'm the only healer in the available premises that has no stopper on how many clients she'll see…" Hermione smiled, looking at the rest of the schedule for the day. She was pretty excited about the next clients.
The bell jingled, signaling Pansy and Hermione to the next appointment. They both glanced up and through Hermione's office window saw a very pregnant Fleur Delacour-Weasley and Bill Weasley smiling and waving at Hermione from the entrance.
"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," Pansy said, smiling slightly, "I'll leave you guys to it, I'm gonna grab lunch," Pansy stated, turning to Hermione.
"Enjoy," Hermione said. Pansy stepped around them and left the clinic.
Hermione got up and beamed at the lovely couple, "Fleur, Bill! How lovely to see you both." She said, keeping a professional distance.
It was hard not pulling Fleur into a hug as she did whenever they were together at the burrow for the holidays.
"'ermione! It is zo good to see you!" Fleur said, crossing the professional boundary and hugging Hermione, poking her with her stomach. Hermione felt the baby quick her, "Oh, zo zorry, 'e's been a little fussy today," Fleur said proudly, rubbing her belly.
"All good," Hermione smiled, looking at Bill, "Here for a whole family check-up?" Hermione asked.
Bill shook his head, "Just the missus today, I'm meeting Ginny for lunch, mind if I wait out here till she comes 'round?"
"Not at all," Hermione said, "can I get you anything?"
"I think I'm good for now," Bill responded, making himself comfortable in the waiting room, grabbing today's Daily Prophet.
Hermione had led Fleur back to an exam room, helped her up to the table, and began running diagnostics.
Fleur and Bill were always welcome at St. Mungo's for being war heroes, part of the Order, and friends of Harry. Mungo's had a thing for serving them and usually, a blind eye turned if they were afflicted with undesirable traits or not. Only the golden members though, any un-notable or neutral members were turned away.
Like Lavender, Fleur was waiting outside on the first day the clinic had opened, wanting to be a new client.
"Why is it fair that I can be zeen, but other veela's cannot?" Fleur had told her. "It'z zee zame with my lovely Bill, they will zee him, but not other werewolf survivors".
Hermione was never that close to Fleur before that day, that conversation made Hermione see her in a different light, and they had become pretty good friends out of it.
"How is everything? Iz he healthy?" Fleur asked excitedly. Hermione finished running diagnostics and viewings on Fleur and smiled at the beautiful witch.
"Everything is perfectly fine, he should be with us in the next month or so," Hermione said, doing one last pass on Fleur.
"Is he presenting Veela?" She inquired, Hermione's diagnostic orb flickered and notified her of the baby's status. It was very positive.
"It is. More than Victorie. It's reading as almost 80%," Hermione said, a little stunned. She wasn't expecting the baby to present as veela that much. "And…" She trailed off, looking closer at the orb.
"And?" Fleur prodded.
"It's picking up faint lycanthrope, it's very faint but positive," Hermione said.
She looked at Fleur to attempt to gauge a reaction. No attempt was needed. Fleur had a proud, almost delighted look on her face. She looked at Hermione, her pearly white, straight teeth grinning at her.
"Theze iz perfect! He iz picking up the bezt traitz from hiz father and me," Fleur squealed, getting up from the table and jumping into Hermione's arms, jumping up and down.
"He will be zo handzome and loved," Fleur said, pulling away from Hermione.
Fleur knew that Hermione had to report everything to the Ministry as it pertained to Fleur and her family. She was an advocate for Hermione and what she did. However, she was against the policies the Ministry placed on her. As were most of her clients. Fleur had taken up protesting outside the Ministry on her days off from Gringott's.
Hermione walked Fleur back up front and saw Bill and Ginny conversing in the waiting room. Pansy had come back and joined in their conversation.
"Mione, Fleur! So good to see you," Ginny smiled, walking over to them. She placed her hand on Fleur's stomach and grinned, "How's my nephew doing?"
Fleur's proud face never fell as she told them the news about his veela and lycanthrope status. Bill looked apprehensive, but Ginny just squealed and gave a bunch of congratulations.
Hermione walked over to Bill while the girls were giggling and patted him on the back. He looked down at her and gave her a small smile.
"I love him, I promise. I'm glad she's taken it well. Victorie is the light of her world and they're both the light of mine, it's just…" Bill attempted to hide the tremble in his voice.
Hermione looked at him and nodded sympathetically, "I understand… I mean, I don't but, I understand… I know he'll be loved dearly by his mum and dad. It just may be difficult for the world to love him, but it'll come 'round," she teased, gazing at the Fleur and her brilliance.
Fleur turned to Bill beaming and positively radiant. Neither Bill nor Hermione could resist beaming back at her. Bill approached his wife and pulled her into a big hug.
Ginny approached Hermione with a hopeful smile, "Mione, reckon you're ready to do some wedding planning with me?"
Hermione looked at her red-headed friend and nodded, "Of course, I'll make time for you, whenever you need. Not just for wedding stuff," Hermione said, reaching out and rubbing the witch's arm.
"Possibly this Saturday?" Ginny asked.
"Absolutely," Hermione said.
Dr. Granger,
I'm grateful for you considering my son's case. I have provided a location, time, and date for our meeting. Also, present in this message is a key to present at this location. I look forward to seeing you and discussing our plan of action.
The Serendipitous Serpent
6 pm this Saturday
For safety measures, I have charmed this letter to rid itself and its contents. These are rather unprecedented times. I do hope you understand.
NM
Hermione groaned, watching the letter burn itself as she set it down in the rubbish bin, it smoked into a beautiful, deep green color and smelled vaguely of patchouli. She looked over at Crookshanks, who was eyeing the smoking contents with interest.
She'd wondered why a key had clanked out from the letter and luckily it hadn't been kicked under anything or absconded with by Crookshanks. It was an antique-looking skeleton key, what once was a possibly vivid silver was now tarnished and aged. She rolled it in between her pointer finger and thumb, looking at the key.
"Of course, it's on Saturday…" Hermione frowned, but she had more information on the mystery-patient-definitely-being-Draco, the writer signed NM, Narcissa Malfoy. Did Draco tell his mother? Or is Narcissa certain Hermione would never figure it out? In any case, Hermione was more than certain now.
Ginny would be let down. She'd have to understand though, just bump it to Sunday…
"I'm screwed, aren't I?" Hermione asked Crookshanks, who simply mewed and headed for his food bowl.
—
She didn't get much sleep Friday night, nor did she do anything of importance for all of Saturday, except remove all the contents of her wardrobe and deposited it on her bed. She pondered over what to wear for her meeting with Narcissa. She didn't want to put in too much effort so Narcissa thought that she was trying to impress her, but she didn't want to show up in beaten trainers and her ugly purple hoodie and act like she didn't care.
Narcissa didn't intimidate her. Well, not anymore. Hopefully.
She decided to keep it simple, yet professional. Black slacks, a purple blouse, and some ballet flats. Her hair was just gonna have to reside in a somewhat tidy bun. No point in wasting time for what was essentially an under-the-table business meeting.
She flooed to Diagon Alley at precisely 5 pm. A whole hour before their meeting time. She needed a couple of things anyways while she waited and wanted to give herself enough time to take in her surroundings… While it wasn't likely, Hermione wasn't completely convinced this wasn't a setup for assassination or whatnot.
She'd stopped by the apothecary for more supplies for her clinic, notably floo powder for her increasingly diminished supply, along with Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment for some other things. She'd started to scout out the meeting location, but was unsuccessful on both the North and South sides of Diagon Alley.
She chewed on her lower lip and knew, even before she arrived in Diagon Alley, that their meeting rendezvous was going to be in Knockturn Alley. Hermione reached the turn of the dark alley. It was almost comical when a cool breeze passed her by and sent an old newspaper tumbling down the desolate street.
"C'mon, Granger…" She consoled herself, forcing her wobbly legs down the darkened alley, wrapping herself in her jumper and holding her wand close.
She wandered down the grungy alley, looking at faded signs and rundown buildings, till she found the destination.
It was the nicest building in the area, but to call it nice would be an overstatement. It was somewhat dilapidated and had a couple of broken windows. It had faint, somewhat sinister music emitting from the establishment.
She practically shoved the door open and nearly tripped in. The patrons, which were more than Hermione expected, all turned and either showed disinterest or sneered at her. The building and its occupants oozed the feeling that she was not welcome.
Hermione cautiously looked around before approaching the bar, her hands practically gripping the corner of the dusky countertop.
The bartender didn't acknowledge her when she approached and continued cleaning the grimy glasses. She cleared her throat, to no avail.
"E-excuse me, sir?" She asked, attempting to mask her fear.
The gruff bartender glanced over at her but didn't turn his body to face her.
"I reckon yew aren't here fur a pint o' sumthin,'" His voice groveled.
Hermione's mouth wavered slightly, she possibly was mimicking a fish right about now, "no, sir, I'm here for a meeting, I've been told to bring this," Hermione stated, setting the key down with a soft clink onto the counter. The bartender leaned over and glanced at it, huffing a rather rancid breath into Hermione's face. She resisted the urge to heave or make any movements.
The bartender nodded his head back towards a lone hallway in the corner of the bar.
"That hallway there, last door on yer right," The said gruffly and proceeded to pretend she wasn't there anymore.
Hermione stared at him for a little bit longer before hastily picking up the key and turning around to face the room.
The music had ceased and it seemed all eyes were on her, some impartial, some condescending, and some were, well, if she dropped dead in front of all of them, a party would probably be thrown.
She gulped and made her way to the closest wall before slinking into the aforementioned hallway. Her breath was shaky and her heart was racing. With each step she took closer to the room, the more anxious she got. No one knew where she was or who she was going to be with.
Except for Pansy, of course, who was her friend, Hermione had to remind herself of that statement. Pansy wouldn't lead Hermione to her death. She was certain of it.
She inserted the key into the lock and the door creaked open.
It was a sparsely decorated tea room, some light fixtures were scattered around the room along with worn-down bookshelves and some sad-looking furniture.
At the only window in the room stood exactly who Hermione was expecting. Narcissa Malfoy. Her features were sleek and beautiful. From the angle Hermione saw the witch, she saw the traits that were passed down to Draco.
She looked tired and her face was also gaunt like Draco's. Her figure was willowy and slim, and her dark gray dress hung on her like it was two sizes too big.
When Hermione opened the door, Narcissa's breath hitched and she took another deep one before turning to face Hermione. A simple, sad smile on her face.
"Dr. Granger," Narcissa said quietly, "I'm pleased to see you, I apologize in advance for the setting of our meeting," she looked around the room, disgust hinted at her features.
She walked forward to the small sitting area and held her hand out to a chair, beckoning Hermione to sit down.
Hermione stood there for a second, calculating the room and possible exit strategies if need be. She slowly removed her jumper and made her way to the chair, sitting down.
"The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione said, her voice remaining calm, "and no apology is necessary, this place is," Hermione paused, "lovely," she said unconvincingly.
A real smile came to Narcissa's face, Hermione saw where Draco got his smile from, and she sat down as well.
"Please, there is no need to be generous when it is untrue," Narcissa waved her wand and conjured a tea set on the table in between them, "tea, dear?"
Hermione nodded and watched as Narcissa poured them both cups of tea.
"Cream and sugar?" Narcissa asked.
"One of each, please," Hermione said, feeling awkward.
It was a bit jarring watching the matron of the incredibly wealthy and noble family Malfoy pour Hermione, a lowly muggle-born, tea, and asked if she wanted cream and sugar.
Narcissa finished the drinks and moved them to their respective spots. Hermione grabbed hers and sipped some. It was delicious. She couldn't imagine what tea was being served to her, but it probably cost more than the grant the committee was giving her.
Narcissa cleared her throat, "Dr. Granger, I'm sure you're aware of why you've been summoned and why we are meeting here now," she began, "As you are aware from the information Ms. Parkinson gave you and now that I am in your presence, that my son, Draco, has fallen ill with the incurable and as the years go by, only seems to progressively get worse. He insists he is fine and can manage it himself, but I'm not stupid and I cannot remain idle any more," Narcissa said, sipping her tea to hide her trembling lip.
Hermione sat in silence, taking in that someone else had acknowledged that Draco was a vampire. She sipped her tea once more and settled in.
"Mrs. Malfoy, I'm regretful to ask, but what is it exactly you want me to do? Everything you gave me was marked out and there's not much for me to go on when dealing with pure-blood vampires, there's hardly any research on the subject…" Hermione bit her lower lip.
Narcissa flinched slightly at Hermione calling Draco a vampire, but her demeanor remained calm and collected.
"I'm aware that this is uncharted territory, not even the Manor's library contains much on the subject… but, I wasn't completely truthful in the letters," she gave Hermione a hopeful look, "He… hasn't been properly seen yet, nor has he wanted to, he's attempted to deal with it in his way, but he's not getting better or even staying consistent".
Hermione wasn't surprised by any of this, it would be rather surprising if any pure-blood wizards had come out to tell the world they were a vampire. Generations of blood guarding and staying pure-blood, only to be uprooted by vampirism.
She wasn't particularly surprised about Draco not wanting to be seen, she remembered Pansy telling her that she was the family's first pick for treating their son.
"If everything told to me wasn't "completely truthful", then what is Draco's stance on me helping him, shouldn't he also be here?" Hermione inquired.
Narcissa took another careful sip of tea, "Draco is, aware of some involvement, not who, but he's a smart man and I'm a desperate mother, I'm sure he's figured it out, if not, I'm sure his suspicions will be confirmed," Narcissa's vague response didn't calm Hermione's nerves in the slightest.
"So, you just want me to see what I can do?" Hermione asked. Narcissa stared at her for a second.
"Precisely, and hopefully Ms. Parkinson told you that you'd be compensated greatly," Narcissa said, preparing another cup of tea.
"She did, but I don't want the money," Hermione said simply. Narcissa eyes her suspiciously.
"I find that hard to believe, Dr. Granger," Narcissa said.
"I have my reasons for doing this, Ms. Malfoy, and you should be more careful about voicing what you believe," Hermione shot back.
Narcissa continued to look suspicious at her, idly sipping her tea.
Hermione felt her heart pounding in her ears, she needed to calm down. She took in deep breaths and sipped her tea again. She was prepared for this, just cause Narcissa needed her help didn't mean she would play nice.
"Draco saved me a couple of days ago…" Hermione stated, "Did he tell you that?"
Narcissa's eyes widened slightly, but her aura continued to remain calm, "I was unaware."
"I've known what he is for a while and I figured out who was requesting my help shortly after," Hermione said coolly, "I'm telling this because, while it's not in my character to do so, I could've reported him to the Ministry the first day I found out. Especially since he's the one hounding me to turn in everyone else."
"Why haven't you?" Narcissa was shaking slightly.
Hermione had thought about this for a bit. It was unfair for everyone else to be turned in to the committee to have their fates decided. She thought hard about why Draco decided to get a free pass when everyone else didn't.
"First of all, by technicality, he hasn't been seen by me officially, so I have no obligation or right to turn his patient records over to the Ministry, and secondly, because I need him for something that will benefit both me and him and, therefore, you."
"And what might that be?" Narcissa asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.
Hermione shook her head, "I would like to discuss it with Draco before divulging any further," Hermione stated.
Narcissa set her teacup and saucer on the old table that sat in between them. She looked at Hermione curiously for a moment.
"Will you help Draco? And keep his condition secret?" Narcissa asked in a hushed tone.
"I will," Hermione stated.
"Will you swear on it?" Narcissa asked, still hushed, but sharper.
Hermione gulped loudly. She would not perform an unbreakable vow. Not to Draco and especially not to Narcissa.
"You have my word and that's all I can offer," Hermione said, folding her hands in her lap.
Narcissa seemed somewhat content. She stood and procured another key from her billowing dress.
"This is for the Manor, present it at the gate and you shall be let in… I realize it is not the most ideal location for you regarding previous events, but it is the most discreet and well-equipped for your purposes. An owl will be sent for you to send a schedule to not show up unexpectedly," Narcissa instructed, placing a more elegant skeleton key on the table.
It was long and had a serpent twisting up the shaft of the key, and the handle had a woven pattern with an emerald sitting in the center.
Hermione's mark on her arm buzzed and stung slightly at the mention of her returning to the manor. She grabbed the key which had a surprising heft and pocketed it.
Hermione stood as well and extended her right hand to the matriarch, "pleasure doing business with you?"
Narcissa's upper lip curled slightly at the muggle gesture, but reached out and fitted her right hand into Hermione's, shaking it awkwardly, "I certainly hope so."
Narcissa made her exit, leaving Hermione in the sour-smelling room by herself. Hermione decided to wait to not have them exit at the same time. She'd recognized many of the people in the bar as former death eaters, and many suspicions would be raised if the Golden Girl was seen leaving a sleazy bar in Knockturn Alley with the Matron of the Malfoys.
Hermione put her jumper back on and proceeded to exit the bar, many people not noticing her as she hugged the wall to the exit.
She breathed in the somewhat fresher air of Knockturn Alley before hurriedly making her way back to the safety of Diagon Alley.
What was she getting herself into?