Slightly shorter chapter, I apologize for that. I hope you continue to enjoy the story! Thank you for the reviews, favorites, and followers! You guys are blowing me away with the response to my shitty Dramione fanfic! Haha. I should have this story up on AO3 soon! Keep a lookout for it in the next couple days or so!
Enjoy~
"You look awful," Pansy said, glancing up from her work, and Hermione entered the clinic. Hermione scoffed as she passed the front desk, heading to her office.
"It's not fair," she said as she returned up front, looking Pansy up and down. She was wearing the same scrubs Hermione was wearing. But she looked perfect; she made them look perfect as always.
"How do you do it, Pans?" Hermione caved as she donned her white healer coat.
"We Parkinson's bath in the blood of young virgin witches," she said jokingly.
"I wouldn't put it past you lot," Hermione said, fussing with her hair in the mirror, sighed, and residing it in its usual bun, "invite me over next time; I could use some of it…."
"Oh, stop it, you look fine," Pansy stated, slapping Hermione lightly, "I'm assuming you got home safely, y'know, since you're here now…."
"Oh no, I died a couple of times on the way back; Crookshanks needed to be fed, though, so I persevered," she said, smoothing out her coat and glancing at the clock. 0745. The first patient should be in around 0800, "so about you and Luna," she turned to a pink Pansy, waggling her eyebrows.
"What about us?" Pansy attempted to keep her tone calm. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I could hear your giggling down at Honeydukes," she laughed. Pansy's face turned sheet white.
"What were you doing down at Honeydukes?" She asked incredulously.
"I didn't go home right away; I wanted to walk around a bit," Hermione said dismissively. "Oh, do you talk to Malfoy anymore?"
Pansy looked apprehensive.
"Draco Malfoy?" she asked.
Hermione shook her head, "no, Lucius Malfoy," she paused when Pansy didn't react, "yes, Draco!"
Pansy held her hands up defensively, "point taken," she laughed, "yes, we're still pretty close, we hang out every so often… I just don't bring him around cause… y'know…" she said, crossing her arms and looking off to the side.
Hermione's mark tingled slightly. A constant reminder. She nodded, "well, prepare to see a lot more of him," she sighed, "the committee assigned him as my representative, so I follow the rules," Hermione frowned.
Pansy's mouth opened, a worried look coming to her face, "are you okay?"
Hermione swallowed hard and hid the tears that threatened to leak, "No…? Yes? I don't know, we've talked since Director Injin told me-"
"Wait, you've talked to Draco?" Pansy asked, springing out of her chair and rushing over. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
She ran her hands over Hermione before cupping her face in her hands.
"Hermione, did he do anything to you?" she asked, panicked.
Hermione shook her head, removing Pansy's hands from her face. She was confused by the witch's behavior.
"I'm fine, Pansy… I was shocked seeing him, but that was a long time ago…" Hermione said, rubbing her mark. "He seems… different," she shook her head.
The clinic doors opened, and the day's first client came in.
"We'll talk later," Hermione said.
"Good morning, Ms. Lopera," Hermione said, smiling.
Angeles Lopera was a lycanthrope who was pregnant with twins. She has been infected since the war; she had left the wizarding community, settling in the muggle countryside with a squib. She was in her second trimester and progressing smoothly. She was coming for her checkup since the full moon had just passed.
It was like any other pregnancy; she was just an ordinary mother excited to have kids with her husband. It broke Hermione's heart that no different clinic would see her because of her status as a lycanthrope.
She continued with her day, seeing completely normal patients, despite their different ailments. Hermione had tried to defer some of her patients back to St. Mungo's, but to no avail; they always claimed they were too full or ill-equipped to handle the cases.
She was when she had finished seeing her tenth person; she was able to get something to eat, a sad sandwich, stopping by the front and consulting Pansy for the rest of the day. Well, night, the sun had set about thirty minutes ago.
"Don't forget, Dr. Granger…." Pansy gave her a sad smile, "It's Monday…."
Hermione chewed her sandwich slowly, giving her a quizzical brow, before sighing loudly and sinking to the ground.
"Sorry," Pansy said, wincing, "I can stay with you if you need me to…."
Hermione stood again, shaking her head, taking another bite of her sandwich.
"No, I won't do that to you," Hermione sighed. Sadly, she gave an annoyed look to the door, "where is our Representative? Running a little late, isn't he?"
"He's coming here?" Pansy asked, to which Hermione nodded and finished off her sandwich, "today?"
"Suppose to be," Hermione glanced at the door, the sun nearly set, "I suppose I should get the feed rooms ready…."
Mondays and Wednesdays, the clinic stayed open late so the Vampire clients who were newly transformed or needed a safe spot to feed could drop in whenever. Usually, five or six turned up, but some nights no one did. Hermione pulled bags of blood from the fridge, using her wand to check the integrity of the samples. Unlike the mystery client Pansy had given her, all the vampire clients she had didn't have special feeding requirements; the only stipulation was that magical person vampires needed blood from other wizards and witches to be fully satiated. Muggle blood worked in a pinch; much more was required, though.
Hermione cast warning charms and left out an assortment of mugs for the clients to choose from; nothing made Hermione feel worse than making them drink it straight from the bag.
The client had a little rest area with private rooms in the back, mainly used for vampire feeding. It was cozy and felt more like a hotel lobby with a kitchen area than a clinic.
After setting up, she headed back up front to relieve Pansy for the day. She stopped and crept up when she heard Pansy talking to someone.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Pansy had asked, "I don't want either of you getting hurt…."
Hermione waited to hear who she was talking to.
"I'll be fine; I won't do anything to hurt her…" she made out the voice of Draco Malfoy. "I just-"
Hermione tried to hold it in, but a sneeze erupted from her. No point in hiding now…
She came around the corner and nodded at Malfoy, "Representative Malfoy, how kind of you to finally show up."
"Sorry, Dr. Granger," he said, a slightly teasing tone in his voice, "got held up at the Ministry, didn't realize how late it was still the sun had gone down…."
Hermione stared at him for a second before turning to Pansy, "It's about closing time. Do you want to go ahead and go home?"
Pansy looked between them, "I suppose," she said, gathering her things.
She had pulled Hermione aside as she prepared to leave, "I'm just a floor call away; please don't hesitate to ask for help," she said.
Hermione held up the floor powder for her; she grabbed a handful, "please, Hermione," she grasped her arm with her other hand.
"I'll be fine, I promise," Hermione glanced over at Malfoy, who was looking at the clinic decor. "Get home, or go see Luna,"
Pansy smirked at her, "who said Luna wasn't at my home?"
Hermione laughed, a genuine laugh. It has been a bit; she almost forgot what it was like.
Pansy called out her flat and was gone in a twist of green flames.
The room was eerily still with just her and Draco in it. He looked over at her; her eyes were still locked on the empty fireplace; she was deaf from how loud her blood was pounding in her ears. She took in a quick breath and turned to face him.
He looked even worse than when she saw him yesterday, his hair more stringy, his face gaunter. There was a slight feeling in her gut to run to him and offer herself up. Like the feeling in the tavern, but lesser.
She felt her face flush, and she coughed slightly, "sorry, just exhausted. I still need to pull together the patient information from today…" she said, making her way to Pansy's now vacant desk.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hold you later…." Malfoy said sheepishly.
"It's no concern, and I'm here for another couple hours anyways… If anything, sorry for not having the documents pulled together for you right away," she said, shuffling through the paperwork.
Maybe she could cut corners, not hand over the patients that were minor cases. Would the committee know? Would Malfoy report her?
She decided against it since the committee knew her schedule and how many patients she saw. She was already on thin ice and didn't want to worsen her situation.
"Here for another couple hours? Granger, it is already 5," Malfoy stated.
"Quite the observation, I do say," she teased lightly, compiling the cases. He scoffed slightly.
"Is there anything I can do? Why're you staying so late?" He seemed so earnest with his questions.
"Does it matter?" she snapped.
It was slightly out of the left field, but she didn't know how to act with him. He bullied her throughout school, they've never honestly had a proper conversation, and now here he comes, waltzing into her life. Practically her manager now, and acting like they were close. Like he cared for her.
He seemed to realize this as well. Like he could read her mind and understand where she was coming from.
She really needed to quit wearing her heart on her sleeve.
"I-I'm sorry, it's just-" she started, but he cut her off.
"I understand, I do…" he paused, "I'm just as lost as you when navigating this whole thing. I figured treating you like a person, as-as an equal would be better than…" he sighed.
"Look, no amount of apologizing can ever fix our past… I've done things I'm not proud of, my family…" he paused again, shaking his head, "there is no excuse for any of my or my family's actions…."
"I'm staying over for some of my clients," she said, staring at him.
He looked at her, confused, not expecting that response. "What?"
"Some of my clients have… special circumstances," she said, "they can't come out during the day, so I stay open late some nights so they can be seen or fed."
"Fed?" He quirked an eyebrow at her. She nodded.
"The vampire clients," she stated dismissively.
If he could go paler than he already was, he would've; his eyes went wide.
"You feed them. Here?" he asked incredulously. She nodded again. "With what?" he asked quietly.
She scoffed, "With a full English, extra side of black pudding."
He looked at her in disbelief.
"With blood, silly," she laughed, "what else would we offer?"
He just stared at her.
"Do you have people who they feed on?" He asked.
She tried to keep from laughing. It wasn't a laughing matter, but the blunt way he asked it and the look he was giving her. It was hard not to.
"No, of course not. The committee would not tolerate that, and most are uncomfortable with stranger feedings. Usually, they prefer stable partners or food sources," she said as she started walking to the back.
"So, how do they feed?" he inquired pensively as he looked around the corner to the back.
"Anonymous donors, we hold blood drives, and they can donate. We hold it here in bags for our clients. It gives them a safe space to feed, out of public scrutiny, or if they don't have a stable partner, a way to receive blood in a nondiscriminatory way." She felt proud to be able to explain her work and the services she provides.
"Here, I'll show you," she beckoned him to follow.
He didn't move; he stayed completely still. Hermione didn't even see him breathe or blink or swallow or show any sign of life.
"Come on, there's no needles or anything," she teased, "I have to check up on last-minute things anyways."
When he still didn't move, she let him stay and be weird.
She headed back to make sure the blood bags had warmed up correctly and that everything was in place. She reached over to refill the napkin holder, her elbow hitting a mug when she went to grab more. It shattered as it hit the ground. She felt for her wand and looked around, probably in her office. She sighed loudly.
"Perfect," she said as she bent down to pick up the pieces. She cupped the broken bits in her hand; she reached for a particular piece, and her thumb split from the unseen sharp edge.
She whimpered in pain and let out a little cry. She cupped her thumb, applying pressure.
"Just great," she said as she felt for her wand again, which was still probably in her office. She finished picking up the pieces and laid them on the counter, the napkin around her thumb nearly soaked through.
"Granger?" she heard from around the corner, "you okay?"
She made her way back up front, beginning to head to her office, "fine," she said, "just got myself," waving the blood soak napkin and her still oozing thumb up.
His face glazed over, his demeanor becoming that of a wolf looking at a tasty mouse. Hermione didn't like that she was the mouse. She swore she heard him growl. Actually growl.
"Ma-Malfoy?" she asked, stepping back away from him.
His eyes were completely black, and he gave a hard swallow.
It was like they were back in the lift as he walked over to her slowly, and she backed herself into a corner, unfortunately, the one opposite her office.
"Malfoy, I don't like this," she said, starting to shake. It was too late for her to dart around him; his frame surrounded her, reaching for her hand, his large hand encompassing her tiny wrist.
He licked his lips, and he removed the soiled napkin, her blood dripping down her hand and dripping off her hand onto the floor.
He sniffed it and groaned, his grip around her wrist tightening, locking her arm into a still position, her hand in front of his mouth. She couldn't jerk away or scream. She was locked in fear.
She started crying. Flashbacks of being stuck in the manor, Bellatrix's grip locking her arm into place as she tortured her. Not being able to move and screaming didn't help.
She noticed his canines elongate. They look like fangs. Right now, he looked like a… And it hit her like a train.
Draco. Draco Malfoy was a vampire. She couldn't believe she hadn't seen it sooner. How did Narcissa and Lucius let their perfect pure-blood son get tainted?
His fangs grazed her hand, leaving small lines but never coming in contact with her blood.
She looked into his eyes and saw war. His desire and need to feed clashed with an emotion she couldn't discern, hopelessness? Fear as well? Did he not want to do this? Hurt her?
He growled again and let out a frustrated yell.
He grabbed his wand and spat a clumsy healing charm. Her thumb sealed up; the blood ceased flowing. He muttered a scourgifying charm, and the blood on her and the floor disappeared.
"I'm sorry," he said, looking desperate. He looked into her eyes, and his face fell, seeing the terror he inflicted on her.
She went to say something, but he was gone. Like he wasn't there in the first place. The air returned to the room. Hermione felt that she was finally able to breathe correctly. She took in a couple of breaths, clutching her chest, attempting to control her heart again.
She looked around, blinking the tears from her eyes, peeking around a couple of corners. He really was gone. She sniffed and felt more tears coming on. The branding on her arm burned slightly. She willed the tears away.
She finally retrieved her wands from her office and filed away tonight's events in the furthest parts of her mind. She needed to focus on her clients. She needed to not think about Draco Malfoy.