------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Notes: Thanks, damned for eternity, I'm glad you liked the line… I thought it worked well for the ending. Alenor, thanks, and I hope you keep reading; I haven't decided if I'm even going to have Hermione keep the baby, yet (she'd never give it up, but I've been toying with the idea of a premature birth and/or crib death… call me sadistic, but I haven't decided, yet). ShylaMalfoy, thank you and I'll try to keep updating... my muse has apparently been on vacation. Emma Laraliean, thanks for being so enthusiastic! You have no idea what that does for me, as a writer. LyssaTucci, many thanks and sorry, but I don't think it'll be a fast hook up; I really like to draw things out and really develop character relationships. I swear there's nothing I hate more than reading a story where two people who have always disliked each other suddenly confess love after two paragraphs and mind-blowing sex.
And with that in mind, on with chapter 5!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The office was gray and slightly dismal looking, reminding her just slightly of the dungeons of Hogwarts. In fact, if Hermione hadn't been quite sure that all of the offices located in this wing of the hospital were the same color, she'd think Draco had painted it this deep, lonely looking shade on purpose. The office was sparsely decorated; a cherry wood desk and three chairs along with a matching credenza were the only pieces of furniture in the room and his walls were graced only with his muggle university diplomas. She knew that, if asked, he could produce the certificates of completion from the wizarding colleges he'd attended that obviously couldn't join those already on the walls due to the fact that he treated members of the non-magical community as well as those from the wizarding world. No plants, no pictures of family or friends, no artwork and seemingly no other personal effects sat anywhere else in the room. As she waited for her doctor (she still couldn't bring herself to think of him as her psychiatrist… it sounded too odd to her ears), she thought about the office she'd had at the ministry before she'd left, so different it had been from his. No less than twelve photographs had hung on the bright walls of her office surrounded by several pieces of artwork that she'd picked out, and three more photos had places of honor on her desk, along with the various knick knacks and office supplies that had littered the desktop. Draco's desk was nearly bare. A metal pencil cup with six identical ballpoint pens (black ink, of course) resting in it, a black multiline telephone, a flat screen computer monitor and a leather bound portfolio were all strategically placed on the smooth, shiny wood. Hermione had to wonder where he kept the rest of his supplies. If she opened the drawers to his desk, would they be as neat, or would they finally be the testament to his humanity, filled to the brim with crumpled papers and messy drawer organizers that never really did their jobs.
She had allowed herself a tiny smile as she wondered how much she could see before being caught when the door behind her opened and Draco stepped into the small office, shutting the door behind her and stepping around the desk to take his seat, there.
"Doctor Malfoy." Hermione inclined her head in greeting as she spoke, rather stiffly.
"Mrs. Weasley." He opened his bottom desk drawer (perfectly neat, much to Hermione's dismay) and pulled her file from it, closing it with his knee as he spread it out on his desk and opened the portfolio to start a new handwritten dictation. "I understand you just came from your obstetrician. She checked up on your back as well?" When she nodded, he continued, "Everything satisfactory? Healing well?"
"Yes. The baby is healthy and the swelling has gone down, considerably. I haven't needed to take the pills they gave me when I checked out," she answered. Draco arched a brow at her over the wire-rimmed glasses he was wearing and she hastily explained herself, "I know, I was supposed to take them for pain, and not refuse them because I thought I deserved to be punished, but I honestly haven't felt more than a twinge when I lay down at night, so I haven't needed them. That's the truth." Draco nodded, thoughtfully.
"Fair enough. How are things working out at the Potter residence?" he asked, resting his elbow on the desk as he scribbled notes on the pad before him.
"Good, except that I'm nearly bored out of my mind. Either Harry or Ginny are around all the time and they won't allow me to help cook or clean or do practically anything around the house. I wish you hadn't spoken to them about me; I'm going stir crazy," she said in an accusatory tone. Draco had to stifle a laugh.
"You can't blame me for that," he assured her, unable to help the smile that had formed, "I told them you had to take it easy; I didn't say to treat you like an invalid. They interpreted the orders how they wanted to." He leaned back in his chair and his tone turned nonchalant. "How did they take it when they found out I was your doctor?" The question Draco had been dying to ask since he'd been there to release Hermione into the Potter's care… Hermione wasn't fooled by the apparent disinterest.
"I'd say it was about the reaction you expected." Draco offered an innocently questioning look, which Hermione completely discounted. "In the car on the way home, Ginny asked if there was a way to get a new doctor… Harry suggested I take the mental ward option." A wry smile accompanied this disclosure and Draco didn't hold back his deep chuckle this time.
"By all rights, you can request another psychiatrist or change your mind about the second option, Mrs. Weasley," Draco admitted, still amused when he thought of the look on Potter's face when he'd realized who, exactly, it was escorting Hermione to the waiting area. Harry had practically sputtered in indignation while his wife could only stare as if she couldn't believe Draco was still among the living after disappearing for so long after graduation. That, alone, had been worth the years of studying.
"I can? Get a new doctor, I mean, not change my mind about the mental ward…" The surprise was evident in her voice and Draco nodded, solemnly.
"If it's what you want, I can sign off on a transfer request form today, but I have to meet with the reassigned physician to discuss your case before you meet with him or her." As he spoke, Draco was already pulling the form from a file folder in the same drawer that her case folder had been in.
"Meet with them…?" she repeated as she considered what that would mean. Just as Draco had mentioned, before, she'd probably have to retell the new doctor everything that she'd already told him. All the embarrassing things that she'd related would have to be brought up all over again… was it worth reliving over and over merely because she wasn't able to see an old schoolmate in a professional setting? Hermione's eyes lifted to the man before her and she assessed what she saw as he started filling out the form for her. He'd eventually switched to ignoring her and her friends during their school years, for reasons beyond her knowledge, and he'd reverted to a rather quiet young man by the time they'd left Hogwarts, with barely a word of farewell spoken between himself and anyone not belonging to Slytherin. He was definitely an enigma, now.
"Dr. Malfoy, can I ask you something?" He glanced up, his writing momentarily ceased as he waited. "Why did you become a psychiatrist?"
"Why did I…?" The question caught him vaguely off guard and he sat back in his chair to mull over what, or rather how much, to tell her. Lying to her wouldn't do; part of his loyalty to his profession dictated that there would always be truth between his patients and himself, but then none of them had ever bothered to ask why he'd become a doctor. "If you really must know, Professor Snape suggested it." A slow grin spread over Hermione's features.
"Professor Snape suggested that you take up a profession helping people…?" she asked, punctuating the statement with muffled giggles as she tried to imagine what could have been running through the professor's head when he'd recommended such a thing. Draco was more that a little indignant.
"You could at least wait for the explanation before breaking into hysterics," he muttered, stoically. That sent her full into her laugher; Draco was sounding more and more like himself. When she finally calmed, despite the smile that remained, she gestured for him to continue.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it… it just sounds so odd to me," she offered, still trying to contain her amusement.
"Mrs. Weasley, think about our first meeting. I had you talking about what happened to you within twenty minutes of meeting you." That wiped the lasting smile from her face. "You're getting the gist of it, I see… I happen to be excellent at manipulating people, and that's exactly what I do as a psychiatrist, even though I'm actually helping the people I manipulate. I deliberately lead people where they don't want to go, to get them to understand what's going on in their heads." He rested his pen down on the half-filled form and clasped his hands over it. "You can let yourself think I'm helping people if it makes our relationship as doctor and patient smoother, but do not ever mistake me for the white knight out to rescue the helpless in distress. I control people, Mrs. Weasley, and I enjoy doing it, or I wouldn't have made a career out of it."
Hermione was silent, keeping her eyes lowered as she processed the information he'd given her. White knight, indeed… and what with all the talking they'd been doing, she'd actually begun to think he might've been a nice person after all this time.
She'd certainly never make that mistake again.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Notes: Is there some sort of stigmata attached to me where I can only manage an average of five reviews per chapter…? Ah, well. Review. I like them and I already have the next chapter written out in my head, so motivation will get it on paper and posted faster.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
