I woke up with a heavy feeling over me. Literally. Draco's arm, along with half of his body, rested against my side. If that wasn't enough to remind me of his presence, the sweet chiming of his snoring would have surely done it. Turning to look at the source, I found just what one would expect. Free from his usual unnecessary bravado, Draco lay loosely beside me. His hair fell onto the pillow untamed, clothes askew on his body, and with an arm tossed across me, all together made him look as though he had been thrown onto the bed to stay as he landed.
I turned and smiled, watching him take even breaths. It was such a peaceful sight, I could have watched him all morning. But, unfortunately, I had things to do. Taking in a deep breath myself, I steadied my hands between us, and firmly pushed against him. Draco rolled off to the side, farther than I had intended. With a jolt he sat himself up, almost falling off the bed. A few seconds passed as his mind slowly began to wake alongside his body. But he seemed to finally come to, as he heard me giggle beside him.
"Merry Christmas," I called, earning myself a frown. Draco responded with a grunt, turning his back to me and slamming his head onto the pillow once more.
With a smile, I stretched a moment before sitting myself up. Trying not to disturb him more than I already had, I jumped up, crossing over him and off the bed. Ready to start the day, I made my way towards my desk. The lantern was off now; Draco must have turned it off last night. Behind the desk, I stretched to draw the curtains open. Along with it I pulled open the window, letting in the cool morning air. As I waited for my eyes to adjust to the small bit of new light, I pulled my hair loose from the unkept bun. Walking a few steps further towards the vanity, I took hold of my hairbrush and sat, beginning the detangling.
"Are you sure you haven't been replaced? Or am I still dreaming?" Draco's groggy voice sounded from my bed. Turning to him, I noticed his eyes focused on me. Still laying on the bed, his left arm hung off the edge of the frame, his face squished between the pillow and his right arm, all the while squinting in my direction. I smiled at the scene. "Since when are you a morning person?"
"Since I have my internship," I answered cheerfully, ignoring the tone, "and a bit of something else to look forward to."
So long as everything went according to plan, after the internship I would be able to see my brother once more. This time we would be spending Christmas together. For the first time since he had left, over five years now, we would spend the holiday together. No matter how tired I could have been, nothing could keep me from feeling ecstatic about that.
"Don't smile like that, it's unsettling," Draco grumbled in return. I gave him a frown. He may have been half asleep, but that didn't excuse the rude remarks. Now done with my hair, I tightened my grip on my brush, and threw it in his direction. Unfortunately for Draco, I had better aim than either of us expected. Throwing a hand across his chest, Draco sat upright again. "Fuck! I've been awake two minutes!"
"Language," I scolded and stood, fanning out my hair. With a sigh I ran my fingers through, double-checking for knots. "It's been two minutes, so you say, and already you're swearing."
"You threw shit at me," Draco snapped back, tossing the brush to my feet. In a huff, he rolled over, turning his back to me. With a frown, I marched back to the bed.
"Don't just turn away from me!" I lectured, slapping his back. He rolled his shoulder, but otherwise ignored the gesture.
"I'm too tired for your little moodswings," Draco grumbled into his arm. "Wake me up when you stop being a bitch."
"Excuse me!"
Draco's head slammed onto the bed as I pulled the pillow from under him. In response he scowled, reaching up to grip my wrist. Grabbing onto my waist with his other arm, he used both as leverage and turned, tossing me onto the bed with him. I fell into the spot beside him, just as Draco let go of his grip on me. I sat up, still in a huff, as he once again turned away. With the pillow still in my hands, I pulled back and struck him with it, hard. Draco turned his head to glare up at me.
"Would you stop being such a—"
"You are being so disrespectful right now," I swatted the pillow against him, not wanting him to finish that sentence. Holding the frown on his face, he turned the rest of his body towards me.
"You are being such a hag!" he grunted back.
With a shriek, I pushed myself up on my knees. Glaring down at him I placed the pillow over his face, letting my body weigh it down. Feeling the same events repeating as they had the night before, I didn't pull away as quickly. Draco grabbed my wrist in an attempt to move me, but I shook him off. Certainly if he used his full strength he could have pushed me away, but he was most likely still fighting through the morning fog. I heard him grumbling under the fabric, though the exact words were lost to me. But, doubting it was an apology, I stayed. It wasn't until I heard a knock on my bedroom door that I blew the hair from my face and sat up straight again.
"Come in," I called, getting one last push. He had stopped struggling at this point, probably guessing there was no point of it. Satisfied with what I'd done thus far, I turned towards the entrance. A couple of the staff stood by the now opened door, waiting.
"Good morning, miss. Do you require some assistance?" I heard one ask as I scooted myself towards the edge of the bed. Turning to Draco he still laid motionless, the pillow completely obscuring his face. I smiled but shook my head, standing up.
"I'm sure she'd call you to handle the body," Draco spoke before I got to. He was slowly removing the pillow, mostly from the motion of him rubbing his face awake. Once above his eyeline, I noticed a glare in my direction, which I chose to ignore.
"But, while you're here," I commented, stepping away. "I would like our breakfast brought up today. The usual for me, accompanied by some Jasmine Black Tea, sugar on the side. And whatever he'd like to order, I suppose. I need to start getting ready for St. Mungo's, so please bring everything up as soon as it's ready."
"Right away, miss," they called. With a yawn, I gave them a nod in return and crossed the room. Figuring Draco would be more than comfortable to order for himself, I entered the washroom. As much fun as he was to argue with, I had wasted more than enough time with him.
Voices from the other side of the door told me Draco was hopefully out of bed now. Looking in the washroom mirror I frowned at the tangles my hair had recreated. With a sigh, I reached down to wash my face. I didn't really blame Draco for being so tired, I had an early shift today, and he hadn't even expected to spend the night, much less prepare for the morning. As the door to my room sounded shut, I patted my face dry. That most likely meant they had taken the rest of the order and were on their way to the kitchen. Good. I had a long day ahead, and needed the breakfast to go with it. Slowly I began untying my robe, just as the door flung open.
"Draco!" I shouted, turning my back instinctively. I heard him chuckle, but it was more distant than I expected. I turned my head back to glance at the door, only to find it empty. Rolling my eyes, I gave him a groan.
"You were kidding with the pillow, but do you honestly think you wouldn't try to kill me if I pushed you far enough? Or at least have me killed," Draco called back, extending the back of his hand into view. He was pressed against the wall it seemed.
"Well, maybe you shouldn't put your own life in danger like that. It wasn't funny," I scowled, already knowin my face was sure to turn at least one shader redder.
"Sure it was. Now, are you decent or not?" he spoke again, waving his hand to match the words to the gesture. I gave him a sigh.
"Yes," I called back, crossing my arms over the robe, not bothering to tie it back up. Draco peaked in from the side where he had been hiding and, noting my scowl, he gave me a smile.
"Good. Now get out," he instructed, walking himself in. I frowned but he grabbed my arm, dragging me out of the room with it. "You always take too long. Go pick out your robes or something, I'll wash up first."
"This is the last time I invite you over," I complained, getting escorted out of the door, and against my will.
"Technically you didn't invite me. Now be a good little house-elf and set some clothes out for me too, would you?" he spoke down to me with a smirk, before closing the door in my face. I rolled my eyes at him and, with a swift kick to the door, turned towards the closet.
I took my time walking through, deciding what I wanted to wear. For one, Breakfast would take some time to make. And two, from experience, I knew Draco wasn't as fast as he'd like to believe. But after a few minutes of back and forth, I settled on a green, tea length dress. Somewhat festive, somewhat casual, and well in theme with the usual Healer garb. Grabbing a set of black robes to go along with it, I took the set and placed it on the bed before walking back into the closet.
It took a minute longer to find Draco some proper clothes. There were usually one or two things lingering around, but there wasn't as much now as when we were younger. Sure I had a dress or two at his place as well, though I hardly visited there anymore, so whether they fit or not was a mystery. But eventually I found something for him. It was recent enough that it should still fit, at least. Figuring he would find a way to complain either way, I grabbed his things and returned to the bedroom. Outside of the closet, Draco was finally out of the washroom. His back was to me, a towel wrapped around his waist. A droplet fell from his head, his hair still somewhat damp, as if he'd only bothered to run through it once before leaving it be.
"I don't think that'll fit," Draco called looking down at the dress. He must have heard me walking towards him. Looking up, he gave me a smirk.
"These are for you," I rolled my eyes at him, placing the set down on the bed. In the same motion, I picked up my dress. "These are mine."
"No dress then?" he continued. Ignoring him, I turned towards the washroom, taking my clothes with me. It would just be easier that way.
"There's plenty in the closet, if you so fancy. Or take a gander through the ones from last night. I'm sure my mother would have no objections to you taking one, seeing as it would be for her Darling Draco," I teased, walking away. Draco let out a chuckle behind me.
Inside the washroom, I set my clothes on the counter. Draco's clothes were flung about in the corner, which he at least had the courtesy of kicking out of the way for me. I quickly washed up, only spending a few minutes myself. Taking the time to make sure my hair was properly dry, and not dripping on the floor as his had, I grabbed what clothes I had chosen for myself and got dressed. Tossing my old clothes into a separate corner than his, I stepped out and back into the room.
In the middle of the bedroom, breakfast was being set. A table had been conjured in to make the meal a bit more bearable. The staff nodded in greeting to me, setting plates, cutlery, and other such items in preparation. Draco, now fully dressed, was overseeing the set up. As one of the staff crossed the table, Draco's eyes met mine. He gave me a smirk before walking a few steps to comment on someone's work. They seemed to be about finished, just setting down the tea and prepping the mignardise.
"Would you like us to be present during your meal, miss?" one of the staff asked from behind him. I shook my head and took a few more steps forward.
"No, we'll take care of things from here," I dismissed them. With a nod they began gathering their things. Taking any unnecessary items with them, they left us to our meal.
"So who's serving my tea, then?" Draco called as the door closed behind them. I gave him a smile, walking the remaining distance towards the table. He pulled out my chair with an annoyed look, already guessing where this was going.
"Why, Deedee, it's so kind of you to offer," I cooed. Placing a kiss on the palm of my hand, I reached up and pressed it against his face before taking my seat. Draco pulled his head up and away from the gesture, but gave me a smirk in return.
From across the table Draco grabbed onto his own chair, pulling it up and moving it to the seat adjacent to mine. He slumped down on it before dragging his meal to its new place. I smiled at him, watching and waiting. At first his expression was confused. Not quite getting it, I decided to give him a hint. Resting my chin against my hand, I slowly used the other to push my cup towards him. Draco gave me a monotone expression, now clearly understanding what I wanted, and reached for the teapot. Resentfully reaching for my cup, he began serving the tea.
"Did you not order your own?" I asked, noting only one container.
"Yours sounded fine, and apparently it saved me the work of managing two," he commented, giving me a side look. I smiled, lifting the cup towards my face.
"You're the one who wanted to play 'Who's the house-elf?'," I spoke into my drink before taking a sip. Draco gave me a chuckle.
Settling into our seats, the two of us began our meal. Both seemed simple enough, which explained how the staff was able to get everything prepared so quickly. Not wasting any time I tried to eat fast, to get as much food in as possible. With how fast paced the environment of the hospital was, it was not uncommon for Healers to completely forget a meal, and I had picked up on the habit. Through a hastened couple of bites I reached for my tea and noticed Draco staring in my direction. Confused, I gave him a frown, but didn't have to bother asking.
"Is it a good idea to be wearing that now?" Draco asked, gesturing to my clothes with his fork.
"Mind your manners," I lectured, not appreciating having a dirty utensil pointed at me. He gave me a smirk before using that same fork to scoop up another bite. "And what are you implying? That I'm going to make a mess?"
"Well, I wasn't so much implying, as down right stating it. But as long as the message gets across," Draco answered, taking a bite once more. I couldn't help but let out a giggle.
We continued to eat but he did have a point, making me slow down, I had to be careful. When at Hogwarts, or even at home, I didn't care if I made a mess of myself. If it came to it, I could always go and change. At worst, I would walk around in stained clothing, and so long as my mother or Daphne were nowhere to see I would have no complaints. But the internship at St. Mungo's was an entirely different story. I had worked hard to be a part of it, I needed to make a good impression.
"So, what are your plans for the day?" I asked suddenly. All this time I had spoken of mine, and only now did I realize I hadn't bothered to ask him for his.
"I'll be going home," Draco answered plainly, "not much else planned."
"I wouldn't mind if you visited me at the hospital, you know. If you wanted to stay out longer, that is," I offered, but he shook his head at me.
"No, I should go home," Draco answered in a serious tone. He picked at his food for a moment before grabbing a utensil's worth and taking a bite. After, he looked up and gave me one of his usual smirks. "Besides, you would toss me aside the second I started interfering with your work."
"I said you could visit, not get in the way," I huffed, earning me a chuckle from him.
Taking a break from eating, I turned to look out the bedroom window. As we neared the end of our meal, the sun continued to rise. It would be time to go soon. Turning back I noticed Draco had paused eating as well. He looked lost in thought, turned in my direction. I watched him for a moment, but he didn't move. And after a second more I let out a frown.
"What is it this time?" I asked, guessing a complaint was coming. Draco's eyes fixed on me, as though they had been daydreaming before.
"What's wrong with your hair that you can never keep it looking tidy?" Draco asked, reaching for a stray strand of it. I swatted his hand away.
"What's wrong with your eyes that you think this is untidy?" I spoke in return, though not in the usual spirits. Draco paused, realizing something in my tone. It was unlike me to take anything he said to heart, but the change in my tone had been notable.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked, watching me. This time it didn't sound like a snide joke.
"Nothing," I mumbled, looking down at my empty cup of tea.
Draco continued to watch me, not believing my disregard. His eyes moved past me for a second, to the bedroom door, before turning back. As his glance returned to me, he let out a sigh.
"What's wrong?" Draco repeated. At his tone, I turned away from him. With my fork, I began to pick through the remainder of my food.
"I'm not an idiot, I know something is going on at home," I spoke down to my plate, not wanting to meet his gaze. "Yet you keep avoiding the subject. Meaning it's something that's specifically bothering you, or…"
I trailed off before I could finish the sentence. But he knew very well what I meant, and I didn't dare speak the words into existence. Of course I trusted Draco completely, but Nikolai was right, he had his Death Eater ties. If there was something happening, at some point or another it would cross Malfoy Manor, and Draco's father was far more likely to involve him in that sort of thing than either of my parents were to even mention it. Meaning, he knew something. But any time I thought of bringing up the subject Draco changed it, ignored it, or avoided it altogether. And the more he avoided it, the more I felt there was cause for concern.
"You worry too much about him," Draco spoke in a low voice, guessing exactly where my mind had gone. He turned a glance towards the door once more before focusing back on me. "You'll see him soon, and that will prove it."
"Sometimes I think I don't worry enough," I sighed, running a finger around the brim of my cup. Draco reached out his hand and placed it on top of mine. When I looked up to him, he gave me a crooked smile.
"Trust me, that has never been in question," he assured and, against myself, I gave him a smile in return. Draco took my hand from atop the cup and took hold of it. For a moment he looked at it, held within his. He ran a thumb across the back of it and, after one final breath, he fixed his expression onto me. "You know, you've avoided a question of mine as well, that I would very much like the answer to."
"And that would be?" I asked with a slight frown, not remembering any such thing.
"Just what is wrong with your hair?" Draco's impish smirk broke through before the end of his sentence. With a glare, I pulled my hand from his.
"For the last time, it is not a mess," I pouted, crossing and turning away from him. Draco let out a chuckle.
"It is, just about as much as that temper of yours," he sneered back. Ignoring my look, he reached for the teapot, refilling both our drinks. "You know what I think it is? It's your sudden need to wake up so early. It must be so out of character that it's affecting your brain."
"You think so?" I smiled ironically back up at him.
"I've put up with you this long, woken up to a lot of unpleasant things. Trust me, you are not a morning person," Draco leaned in insisting.
"And you would know this from experience?"
We both stood quickly at the sound of my fathers voice. Turning towards the door, my father stood by the room's entrance, watching us. I let out a sigh. He had made no noise as he entered, meaning he could have entered at any point during the conversation.
"Looks like you're all finished with your meal," Papa glanced at the table for a second before turning back up to look between us.
"Papa," I frowned towards him. "I would appreciate it if you would knock."
"I didn't think I would be interrupting. Was I?" my father asked, turning his expression towards Draco. The question very obviously seemed to need his answer in particular.
"No, Sir, you weren't," Draco responded with a nod.
"Then no harm done," Papa resolved. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him, deciding instead to take a breath. He continued, ignoring my obvious objection. "It is almost time. You should ready yourself. You're the one who insisted on partaking in this internship."
"I am ready. I'll be down momentarily," I replied, ignoring the tone he placed in the latter comment.
My father nodded but, crossing his arms, stayed for a moment more. He watched us from the door as I reached down to take one last sip of my tea. Draco pushed in his chair before starting to tidy up, in an attempt to find something to do I assumed. With a sigh, I drank the rest of my tea before turning back to him. After a shared look, my father turned to glance into the corridor before taking a step out. Sure that I would be out soon, he silently began descending the stairs. Gently I ran my hand through the ends of my hair. Setting the cup down, I turned to Draco.
"I'm assuming you're not going to stay much longer after I leave," I commented, already knowing the answer. Immediately his expression turned to one of distaste, making me let out a laugh.
"After you," Draco motioned forward. I smiled, guessing he meant it less out of chivalry and more as a form of protection from my father. But, grabbing my things, I followed the motion and exited the room.
At St. Mungo's, I began work under Healer Begum for the day. This time I was assigned to the third floor, to deal with Potions and Plant Poisonings, as was much preferred. Though I knew the best healers could do it all, this was certainly where my strengths lied. Through the day I was much more familiar with things, already knowing some of what was discussed, even recognizing ailments and conditions. This had been my field of expertise since I was a child, after all.
Christmas Day did look to receive a higher influx of guests, more particularly patients. Specifically, there were far more cases of "accidental" food poisonings. Many had to be diagnosed based on just a few claims of taste, if they could still remember after all the vomiting, swelled tongues, and whatever other symptoms arose from their meal. Overall they seemed like harmless pranks within family members, though some culprits were smarter than others when pulling off said "pranks". One particular sibling had managed to properly disguise their brew within the broth of their holiday dinner, which added a few moments longer to properly determine the cause.
As I visited different patients, it was also my job to keep patient files of them. These mostly included written information of their symptoms, causes, prescribed potions and the like, as well as anything Healer Begum dictated, for future reference. But some time, and a few rolls of parchment later, the morning eventually calmed down. Not completely but enough to take a breath. Having dealt with the worst of it until the afternoon rush, Healer Begum suggested I take a break and grab a snack. Of course I agreed, thanking him, before climbing up the stairs. That's when I let my frown show. I hated being spoken to as if I was a child, like I didn't know what I was doing. I could be doing far more than writing notes, and now he was sending me out for juice.
Among the stair climbing and light grumbling I took a glance at my notes. Some of the rolls were copies, for my own use and reflection; it was allowed by St. Mungo's and Healer Begum so long as I revoked the patient's personal information. I could use them to study later, as there certainly was a lot to read through. I never realized how many families resorted to physical aggression to solve disputes. Passive aggression had always been more popular within mine.
Still glancing over a few loose sheets of parchment, I bumped into someone when taking the last step towards the fifth floor. While mentally annoyed someone would stand there, I had a certain image to keep at this hospital, and began to apologize. But glancing up at the culprit, my half hearted apology paused. He seemed familiar, tall, thin, with a red head of hair, but I was having trouble placing his name. Looking down at me, he seemed to be having the same problem, before recognition took over his face.
"Oh, you're Katerina, is that right?"
"Yes, and you're… William," I took a second before calling out the name. It would not be proper to forget the name of George's brother.
"Bill is fine," he smiled down in return, reaching out a hand in greeting. I shuffled a bit of the parchment to the side before extending a free hand myself.
"Bill," I repeated, shaking his hand lightly. "It's nice to—"
A force slammed against my back, interrupting me. The parchment I had held fell from my hands. George rested his weight against me, wrapping his arms around my waist. When I turned to frown, he leaned in further and kissed me. I let out a sigh and turned to glare up at him. He smirked down at me in return.
"What are you doing?" I frowned, stepping away from his embrace. I leaned forward to pick up the scrolls that had fallen, only to be presented with them. George smiled, handing them to me.
"Didn't expect to see you here, but I should have guessed. You look cute in that dress," he added, as I took the remainder of the notes from him.
"Thank you," I commented, straightening myself out. "I can't wear the robes as I'm not properly licensed, so I had to put a bit of thought to what I wore. I wanted to make a good impression."
"It's working," George smiled down at me.
"If we didn't know any better we'd think you a proper girl," Fred agreed, appearing beside him.
"Yes, I am lucky to have that ability," I agreed, smiling between them. "Unfortunately for you both, you always look like a couple of miscreants."
"It's part of our charm," they replied. I gave them a giggle.
Someone passed us by the stairs, heading down to the lower levels. I took a step out of the way, and the others followed suit. I smiled politely at them as they passed, having said presence to maintain. An arm was placed around me, and I looked up at George as the source. Rolling my eyes, I dusted his hand off, turning to them in my entirety.
"Are you here to visit someone, Katerina?" Bill asked, and I shook my head.
"Actually, I am here to study," I answered.
"Bit of an odd place to come study," Bill replied, though a more surprised expression caught my attention.
"I thought you weren't doing it during Holiday," Fred called out curiously.
"I had always wanted but there were some complications," I sighed. I did not have my father's approval before. Technically I still didn't. "But things changed."
"You should've told me," George grumbled down at me. My face turned more serious at the comment.
"And would you have answered?" I asked evenly.
Both paused, realizing what I had said, and the tone that had slipped out. A discussion I hadn't yet intended had opened. Knowing what was probably to come, Fred nodded to himself before turning away, not saying a word. Sensing the same shift in mood, Bill followed after. Watching his brothers step away, George turned back to me and sighed.
"You're upset."
"Well, I'm not happy."
"But are you upset with me," George repeated, taking a step closer.
"Would you like me to be?" I asked, raising a brow. He gave me a smile in return.
"No, I just want to make sure. I can never tell with you, all I know is things end up far worse for me when you are," George spoke, leaning into me. But I turned before he reached me. He let out a sigh.
"I'm not angry, but I wouldn't say I'm too happy with you either. That's about as clear as I care to be right now," I spoke with a sigh myself, and turned to look up at him. "I found out you were gone from Hermione, you know. And that's only because I had to chase her down and ask."
"I know," he nodded. I crossed my arms in return.
"You know?" I repeated. George scrunched his face, realizing that was something he probably shouldn't have said. After all, it meant she had passed my message along, yet he still hadn't responded.
"A lot's been happening," he tried to justify, reaching an arm towards my waist. George leaned into me, lowering his voice. "There has been a lot going on, not just with me, but with my family, with the Order…"
"The Order," I repeated once more, with a frown to myself. I took a step closer to him, lowering the tone a bit more. "Look, you know I hate being kept in the dark. I understand there are certain things you can't say, and you're entitled to your privacy, but leaving out of nowhere just days before break…"
"I know, I know," George leaned further into me. "Like I said, there's been a lot—"
"Miss Volkov," I heard Healer Begum call out. Quickly I pushed against George, forcing some space between us again. Taking a breath, I turned to the stairs, just as the Healer came into view.
"Hello, Healer Begum," I called, tidying myself for what I could. He stopped near the edge of the step, turning for a moment to look at George. I cleared my throat, gesturing a hand at the source of his curiosity. "This is a fellow student from Hogwarts, George Weasley. I ran into him on the way to the tearoom."
"Hello," he greeted in return. George extended a hand to shake, but his face was stiff.
"I was just saying a quick hello. I will head down right away—"
"There will be no need," Healer Begum smiled. "I was actually coming to inform you, I have been called to aid on the second floor."
"Is that so?" I asked, trying not to sound as irritated as I felt. George looked down at me, but Healer Begum didn't seem to notice. "Well, if that is the case, I believe you'll want to hold on to the patient reports."
"Yes, thank you," he accepted them graciously, while I held onto my copies. He nodded, glancing briefly through them, before turning back up. "I may be some time, so I was actually going to suggest you assist Healer Smethwyck with his current brews. But if you'd like to rest and greet a friend, now would be the time to do it."
"Thank you, I will take the opportunity," I gave him a nod.
"Very well, head downstairs once you are done," Healer Begum called cheerfully, before turning his attention to George. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Weasley."
"You too," George gave him a small nod in return.
Healer Begum gave us both one more smile of farewell. Taking his notes with him, he turned and made his way back down the stairs. After a good few steps he turned the corner, and now gone from our sight, I let out a frown. Turning back beside me George seemed to hold the same expression, though I was sure it was not for the same reason. With a sigh, he took a step towards me.
"So I'm a 'fellow student' now?" he asked, glancing at where Healer Begum had disappeared to. I rolled my eyes at him.
"I don't want them thinking I invited my boyfriend to come and harass me at work," I explained, not seeing why I needed to. "It just seems more likely that I would run into a 'fellow student' at random, don't you think?"
"You sure thought of all that fast," George mumbled still.
With a sigh, I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. In the same motion, I reached out and grabbed his hand. Pulling him along with me, I stepped further into the room, away from the stairs, near where we were still stood. George didn't outright say it but it was clear the comment had annoyed him. I turned a glance at where Bill and Fred stood chatting. If they had noticed us arguing, they weren't making it obvious. Turning back to George, I led us to some seats in the rest area, deciding to start.
"So you're spending Christmas with your father, then?"
"Yeah—wait, how did you know that? I didn't mention that," George interrupted himself, realizing that. I giggled a little, having successfully distracted him.
"I have been working nearly since I got back. Your father is in one of the wards I am overseeing," I only partly lied. Originally it had been Draco who mentioned it, but I didn't think it wise to bring that up now.
"He didn't mention you," George frowned.
"I'm sure he had more pressing concerns," I smiled, and gave him a shrug. "When we were originally introduced he was still sleeping. I get assigned a lot of very early shifts. Either way, I try not to make it a point to sit and chat with patients. I do usually work on the back end of things, as to not interfere."
"I haven't seen you when I visit."
"I don't work every day, or linger around rooms, and as I mentioned I do get assigned to different wards," I let out a sigh at the explanation. It was as though he didn't believe me. He seemed to notice that too. George turned his attention to the side before turning back to me.
"Want some tea? My treat," he added the latter with a smile.
"It's free," I reminded him. He gave me a very lively nod.
"And you're worth every knut," George gave me a grand smile.
Standing from his seat, George went to get us some drinks, as well as some sugar cubes to add for taste. As always he chose to drink his coffee black, while I poured nearly the entirety of the sugar he brought into my cup. We sat in silence for a moment, neither one of us saying a word. Not that I could blame him, I could only think of one thing to say, and it was not a very pleasant one. But it would have to come to light eventually. I took in a breath, sipping my coffee one more time, knowing the route this conversation would most likely take.
"Whiskers sent you a letter, and came back a couple of days later than I expected he would. You're staying in London then," I spoke, though it wasn't a question. He was staying in the House of Black again.
"We are," he nodded, not needing to lie but also not elaborating on the matter.
"So you did get the letter then," I continued, seeing as how that had not phased him. George took in a breath.
"I did," he spoke, letting some of the air he'd held out. "I've just had other things on my mind. Sorry."
He wasn't sorry, not really. It was clear on his face. But I had been in a certain mood when writing the letter in question, so I didn't much fault him for not wanting to reply right away. Among that, he had other things to worry about. I was at the hospital for an internship, while he was there on much more serious matters. With that in mind, I took a drink of my coffee.
"It's alright," I spoke after a moment, setting my cup down. "You mentioned at least one thing that would be enough of a distraction, not to mention your father's condition. I won't ask if the two are related either. I've had some things in mind myself."
"Like?" he prompted, though it didn't sound like the curiosity was his own.
It made sense why he would question me about it. If there really was that sort of business happening in the Ministry, it was something someone like Draco would have to know, meaning it might eventually make its way to me. George wanted to know what I knew, but of all that had happened he was sure to know more than I did. This morning was proof Draco was keeping whatever he knew under wraps. Now I was the unwilling mediator, stuck between two difficult people both insisting their way was the only way, and both refusing to share any more information besides that.
"Like the training I told you I would do once home," I answered his question, pretending not to notice his ulterior motive.
"You never mentioned any training," George muttered to himself.
"I did mention I would be studying with Theodore," I spoke before giving it a bit more thought. "Although, I think I might have only mentioned that which we were doing at Hogwarts. I meant to mention it in my next letter, but considering…"
"Right…" George repeated, drinking from his cup of coffee.
Glancing back up from his drink, he turned a curious look behind me. Curious myself, I turned around just in time to see them take the last few steps.
"Fred, would you—hello again," Bill called, Fred pushing right behind him.
"I found some scones," Fred offered a bag up, stepping forward from behind his brother.
"Truly, such a rare find for a tearoom," I smiled back at him.
Fred gave me a satisfied nod in return, before shoving one of said pastries into his mouth. George, following the example, reached into the bag and grabbed a piece for himself. I let out a giggle as I watched him try to unstuff his face by downing more of the coffee before him.
"So, Katerina," Bill called, wanting to distract from his brothers, "Fred was telling me you're not here for a visit. You are working as part of the hospital?"
"He didn't believe me, so I came to prove a point," Fred called through a mouthful and a tussle. At the moment he was attempting to steal George's drink away from him. I gave them a smile before turning back to Bill.
"Yes, I am currently taking part in an internship with the hospital. I work under different Healers, earning general information, nowhere specific," I explained with a shrug. "I did so this summer as well."
"I wasn't aware that St. Mungo's provided internships," Bill nodded. "That's quite admirable."
"You know what would be even more admirable? If you got us a discount at that shop over there," Fred spoke up, stretching his neck to look at something specific inside the hospital shop. I let out a giggle but, not finding it needed much more of an answer, turned back to his brother.
"I've wanted to be a Healer for a long time now, so I thought I may as well get a head start," I continued towards Bill. "You work at Gringotts Bank, do you not; as a Curse-Breaker?"
"Actually, I recently transitioned to a desk position," Bill answered with a smile. Seeing the curiosity, or possibly doubt, in my face, he continued. "It just felt like a good time for a change, and I wanted to be a bit closer to home."
"That does seem to be a common problem with people who hold that position," I nodded, thinking aloud. "It's one that requires a lot of traveling, and even when stationed it's often in a country far from here. You're often tasked with exploring all types of land in different, mostly isolated, regions. It is admirable to take part in something like that, even if only for a while."
"You seem to know a lot about Curse-Breakers," Bill responded, sounding a bit surprised. "Were you ever interested in the position."
"Not myself, but I knew someone who was, so I looked into it," I gave him a shrug. "My father also deals with a lot of them through his office in the Ministry. I also have family back East, and they run into our property there from time to time."
"It's not often Curse-Breakers go into residential areas. You make it sound like it's a normal occurrence," Bill smiled at the comment, and I gave him a nod.
"It somewhat is, but I understand why," I waved a hand dismissively. "Some of the properties stretch pretty far, and not all hold an estate, but we keep them around just in case."
"You keep long stretches of land 'just in case'?" Fred asked, through another mouthful of pastries.
"Well, some of our ancestors, from my father's side, liked to explore," I answered simply. "Our family collectively owns land in several countries, most of them to the East, but there are a few that stretch farther out. My grandfather's grandfather was the one to settle into our home originally. My grandfather added some other pieces of land himself. It would be disrespectful to them to simply get rid of some. Besides, they could come in handy for future generations. My mother and father moved to our current home together after graduation, seeing as the property was available. They had it renovated, of course. But mostly they're used as vacation spots, or when a dragon needs to be safely transported."
"That's right, isn't your aunt a dragon breeder?" George asked suddenly, the comment having caught his attention.
"It is illegal to breed dragons," Bill shook his head at him, "I'm sure it is more of a Sanctuary."
"Of course, your family would never do anything illegal," Fred emphasized the words with a not-so-innocent smile.
"Never," I repeated, with a smile of my own, before turning back to Bill. "But I also wouldn't call it a Sanctuary. Those are normally run by Magizoologists. But her husband's family has been doing it for some time, so they know what they're doing, even without proper qualifications."
A loud noise from further into the room caused me to jump. From its direction, an old witch was chastising a child coming out of the hospital shop. The little one had begun crying, sounding like he wanted something he had already been told no to. The old witch dragged him down the stairs, causing some of the Healer portraits to stir. As the kid continued his whining, the portraits began to call out just as loudly, suggesting a number of ailments the child could be suffering from, and different ways to fix them. I let out a sigh, hating it when they got riled up like that.
"Why don't you two go look in the shop," George spoke up suddenly. "It looks empty; now's your chance to really look."
"She never answered me about the discounts," Fred argued a second, before his brother stood up.
"Come on," Bill called, placing a hand on Fred's shoulder. Not giving much of a fight, he shrugged and stood as well. "It was nice to see you again, Katerina."
"You as well," I called out, as the two started towards the shop. Part of me felt pity for the clerk, having just gotten rid of a child only to receive a very similar treatment by a much larger one.
My attention turned back as I felt something grace my hand. George reached his towards mine, grabbing hold of it. Using the grip he had on it, George pulled me away from our seats. Together we walked to the edge of the room, finding a place among them. Now much closer, and more isolated from anyone who could see, George leaned into me.
"This year has been exhausting," George leaned against my shoulder. I patted his head. "It would be so much easier to just sleep and not wake up until things are a bit more settled."
"Want me to recommend a sleeping potion? It might help you feel less restless," I called sarcastically. He gave me a chuckle in return.
"Knowing you, that could very well be a potion I would never wake up from," he continued with a laugh. But I tapped his head, giving him a frown. George looked up at me innocently.
"Don't say things like that," I protested, lowering my voice at the lecture. "People here can be sensitive about that sort of topic."
"What? People don't want Healers poisoning them?" George asked, keeping the same innocent sort of expression.
"Not particularly, no," I frowned, not falling for it. George gave me a shrug and leaned further against me.
"You're cute, I'm sure you'd be forgiven."
"I would still prefer you not give anyone a reason to doubt," I sighed, a bit annoyed. "Even as a joke, Healers are tasked specifically with healing. Meaning, the slightest rumor like that could easily ruin a career."
"Why do you want to be a Healer?" George asked suddenly. I paused in surprise a moment, before answering.
"Because I wanted to," I gave him a pout, not seeing why it mattered. George smirked at me.
"Obviously," he sat himself up, looking down at me. "What I mean is, you don't necessarily have to work."
"What's your point?" I asked, but he rolled his eyes.
"Aren't you the same girl who just said your family owns several large spaces of land to keep 'just in case'," George continued.
"I never said large," I mumbled, though I couldn't fault him for assuming that. "And, I still don't see your point."
"Well, I would say mine barely owns one," he continued in a lower tone.
"Yes, they do, but that's within the entirety of my family. I personally own none," I reminded him. That's not to say I would never inherit any of it one day, but I didn't think it appropriate to bring that up now. "Besides, what would I do after Hogwarts? I'm not exactly the sort of person who just sits around, am I?"
"Why not just live comfortably while studying plants or something?"
"Who says I can't still do that?" I argued. George grew quiet, making me let out a sigh. "But if you must know, being a Healer was actually suggested to me."
It was Nikolai, I believe, who was the first to make such a suggestion. He was strongly considering working as a Dragonologist and going to work alongside our aunt as one of his career choices. Considering I would miss him greatly, I argued it would be too dangerous. As a rebuttal, he suggested I come along as his personal healer, solving both issues with one simple suggestion. Since I was already a fan of potions, I was more than willing to come along. That had been our plan for some time… that is, until…
In my mind, I had originally pictured him as a professor. He had always been very charismatic, good with people and children alike. I had learned a lot from him myself, having gone to Durmstrang and helped in revising some of his lectures. I doubted I would have learned nearly as much as I did, had Nikolai not explained his coursework to me in such detail. But he wasn't the kind to accept such simple work, he wanted adventure and excitement. Always the risk taker, his current state of affairs proved that. And of course, I would have been ready to go with him at a moment's notice, had I been given the choice…
"By who?" George asked, breaking through my thoughts. It sounded as though it wasn't his first time asking.
"That's not important," I sighed, not finding it the right place for that sort of conversation. "But, seeing as it is a difficult career, which involves some of my favorite subjects of study, I thought it a good fit."
"I never said it wasn't," George sighed at me.
I turned a quiet look towards the entrance. Still, no one rose up the stairs. It did surprise me not more people were in the tearoom, but from past experience most did seem to show later in the day. As I continued to stare out in thought, suddenly George crossed my view. Much closer than I expected, he leaned in for a kiss. Surprised, I pushed back lightly, giving him a frown.
"I'm working."
"And I'm a fellow student," George replied sarcastically, with a bit of a tone. I rolled my eyes at him. "Come on, you're taking a break."
"At work," I pulled back again. "And I'll have to go back soon."
That was true but it was not the whole truth. I knew not much more was going to come from this conversation. Nothing pleasant at least. Things had been calm for long enough I doubted much more could last.
"What exactly do they have you working on?" George asked, grumbling a bit.
"I told you earlier, I mostly deal with the work behind the scenes. Mostly it consists of helping source ingredients, sorting paperwork and potions… Essentially I'm an extra hand for wherever is most needed. Actually, I have mostly been working under Healer Smethwyck, on the first floor. He was the one overseeing your father's recovery, as I'm sure you know. The antivenom potion has taken us some time to work though, it's one of the potions I've been spending most of my time trying to perfect. I usually work on it a bit, whenever he's too busy."
"They have you doing that?"
"Yes," I sighed, agreeing it sounded a bit mundane, watching a cauldron without much result.
"But you're not a healer," George frowned to himself.
"Not yet," I mirrored his expression slightly, not seeing how that was relevant. He didn't seem to notice my look and continued.
"They really shouldn't be putting just anyone—"
"Just anyone?" I repeated, this time with a real frown. Finally, he noticed.
"No, I know you're not just anyone," he shook his head at me, "but they don't. To them you're just a student, not even close to graduating yet. It's a life on the line, and they're leaving you alone to brew the antidote? You could…"
"I could what?" I asked when he didn't finish. I shouldn't have asked, I should have stopped the conversation like he was trying to, but I heard myself continue. "I could have tampered with the brew? Poisoned your father? Or maybe I'm just too incompetent to watch a cauldron boil?"
"That's not what I said," George replied, a little too calmly. "It's not that I don't think you're capable, this is just a delicate situation."
"Because of what you're involving yourself with? Because of your Order? I know that's why your father was hurt," I added pointedly, though still in a hushed tone.
"That has nothing to do with this," he tried to argue, but I rolled my eyes. It's like he didn't know me.
"I am working directly under his assigned healer, supervising the ward, you don't think I have access to his patient notes and summary of discovery," I sneered at him. "And above all that, I'm not an idiot, George. You think I don't realize your father isn't the type to take a moonlit stroll, through a secluded part of the ministry, where a highly venomous creature just happened to be found? I knew all of that before seeing him in the Hospital."
"You're not a real healer, Katerina," George spoke clearly down to me, and I felt my jaw clench up.
"I'm interning as one," I spoke back stiffly.
"That's different," he continued, pretending not to notice my look. "When you come into the role yourself, great—"
"Myself?" I repeated with a frown. "I did come into it myself."
"I think we both know your father was more than a little helpful with this," he spoke down to me once more.
"My father…" I began but paused to take a breath, turning away. Letting it out slowly, I turned back up to face him. "My father may know some people who work at this hospital, but he did not get me this internship."
"Of course you're great at Potions, and will make an amazing healer, someday," he emphasized with a look, making me take in a breath again. "But you have to admit this sort of thing doesn't happen to just anyone. St. Mungo's doesn't even offer internships! How many fifth years can you name who could get handed a position like—you know what, bad example, considering the kind of people you know. But most of us don't just walk into our dream job with a few nice words like this. There's a reason you're here and that reason is him."
"The reason?" I repeated, the annoyance coming through very clearly in my tone. "He recommended the idea to some of those he knows, sure, but that is all. He may have opened the door but I'm the one who pushed my way through it. I'm the one who suggested this whole thing in the first place!"
"Calm down," George reproached, having noticed my voice had grown in volume. I noticed too but, against myself, my rant continued.
"I'm the one who sought out letters of recommendation from superiors, outside of my family, who agreed I should be given this opportunity. I interviewed with multiple chairs to prove I was appropriate for the position. I passed several tests and trials to prove my knowledge on the subject, and spent months coordinating all of this while still attending Hogwarts, all so I could start as soon as summer break began. I did not simply get handed this internship, I worked for it. I earned it."
"I know you worked for it, and I know you think that you did this yourself—"
"Excuse me?"
"But you can't pretend you haven't gotten this far because of special treatment from your father's 'friends'," George continued to say, ignoring my interruption.
"Think what you want about my father, about my family, but we do not just get things handed to us. We work for them," I argued, knowing what he was insinuating. "I worked hard to get this position."
"But those connections count for something," George insisted, pretending not to notice my glare. "I'm not saying you didn't work for this position, just that the work might not be as hard as you think. There are dozens of witches, already out of school, who would love a position like this. Do you really think it's fair that you're the one they chose to make an exception for because of 'who you know'?"
"I know what my goal is and I am doing what I believe is best to get there. How is this any different from what you do at Hogwarts?" I contended, crossing arms. "I'm not an idiot, George. I know how you get a number of your ingredients, even the 'Non-Tradeable' ones. The amount of times you sneak off to Hogsmeade instead of attending lessons. Do you think that's 'fair'?"
"Those are completely different circumstances!" he raised his voice.
"Really? Because they look awfully similar to me," I raised mine to match. "But, then again, I can't be trusted to watch a cauldron boil over, so what do I know!"
"This is not the place for this," George called sternly, but I ignored his tone.
"Oh, what, am I acting too much like a child for you?"
"Right now? Yes," he frowned at me. "You're making a big thing out of nothing."
"Nothing? Really? Because out of the two of us, you seem the more immature. I'm the only one actually saying what they're thinking. You're not as sly as you'd like to think. But let's do it our way, and keep pretending I don't notice the obvious prejudice you have against not only the people who I associate with, but my family as well. But don't worry, I'll try to not let this little outburst of mine affect my work on your father's remedy," I blurted it all out before standing abruptly.
"Katerina—"
"I should really go," I spoke quickly, stepping back from his grip. "Say goodbye to Bill and Fred for me. And send me that reply next time you take a break from all that thinking, would you?"
I rushed down the stairs as quickly as I could. George had seemed taken aback by my charge, but I couldn't be sure he wouldn't chase after me. Really, I should have left much earlier; I was certain something like this would happen. But the further I went, the progressively angrier I became. Ignoring the calls from the Healer portraits as I passed, I stomped down until I reached the first floor.
Already I was fuming as I barged into the potions room. Not very proper, but thankfully there had been no one there. Quickly my breaths came and went. Carefully I worked to slow those breaths down, steading myself along with them. In and out, each one grew longer than the last. At the same time, I worked to push any emotions I felt down within myself. I could deal with them later.
With one final breath, I calmed myself enough to take a look around the room. Just as I began to focus on the cauldrons, my attention shifted. Footsteps sounded from the corridor, getting ever closer. The area was blocked off from patients and visitors, but I wouldn't put it above him to find a way through. I steadied myself expecting yet another argument, but was saved by the presence of Healer Smethwyck.
"Ah, Miss Volkov," he spoke nonchalantly, walking further into the room. "I heard someone enter. Healer Begum said you might stop by."
"It seems that he is otherwise occupied. If you have the time, I would love to be of assistance," I forced a smile.
"Yes, we need as much help as we can get today," he mentioned, glancing down.
There were several cauldrons with half finished brews in progress. I assumed not all patients needed one, since there weren't as many admitted to the first level as there had been in the third. Still, there was enough that work was welcomed. A few of the presented brews were repeated, as a failsafe in case any mistake was made. I nodded along as Healer Smethwyck walked through the presented brews with brief explanations as to which step they were each in.
I began to stir a specific brew, to Healer Smethwyck's request, as he searched for some still needed items. As he returned I noticed the Healer stood near me, ingredients in hand. .
"Is something the matter?" I asked, noting his hesitation. Healer Smethwyck shook his head before dropping the ingredients into the brew.
"I just feel as though I should apologize," he answered, moving to get the next round of supplies. "A young girl like you should be enjoying the Holiday with your family."
"No need to worry, I plan on doing just that, later today," I smiled more genuinely. He seemed to notice the difference.
"Then we should get to work," he agreed, much less concerned.
I gave him a nod myself, focused on the potion. He was right. There was no need to worry or let the others damper my mood. Soon I would be able to spend time with my family. Soon I would be able to see my brother. And, for the first time in years, I would be able to spend a proper holiday with him. Nothing and no one could take that away from me.