Great. Bloody great, just when Draco thought that things just could not get any worse, life had to pop in and remind him how dangerous that phrase was. Squinting into the afternoon light pouring into the St. Mungo's waiting area, he remembered the last time he tempted fate with a scowl. The last time he let that dangerous thought flit across his mind, his father brought the Dark Lord himself to shack up in their house. Or rather he brought himself. Either way nothing good came of it. Draco shifted his weight to the other foot and nearly growled in frustration, his gaze bouncing restlessly about the artificially cheerful room, touching on the other haggard individuals within distastefully as they sniffled and hacked every so often.

Yes, things could always be worse. Because no, it wasn't enough that he was a pariah, his mother disgraced, his father… well, that wasn't even worth discussing. He was still young, rich, and beautiful, as the Malfoys have been for centuries, but just about everything else had gone to shite, and that included his health. The day he was informed that his lack of sleep was not just an ordinary string of late nights brought on by a bit of stress, his stomach just about dropped out from underneath him. Hadn't he had enough?

Apparently, life thought not, and from the looks of things he was starting to wonder if this would be something he could worm his way out of. Snapping his head to the side, he glowered at a cowering junior healer that had been teetering about him like a scared fawn for the last five minutes, constantly passing by him with short nervous steps.

"Do you have something you need to tell me?" he asked waspishly. The young man grew even paler under a mop of sandy blond hair and Draco couldn't help but frown at his fear. He was often cranky and yes, he was a bit mean, but not enough to warrant the frightened anxious response he always got when his voice was anything but silky and pleasant. He wasn't violent. He wasn't cruel.

He wasn't the kind of man his father turned into.

"H-Healer Granger told me to a-ask you to see her in her- in her office," he stammered out.

"Well," Draco replied with a glare. "Tell that ill-mannered healer she's coming to me; I don't want to stay here another minute." Draco didn't think it was possible, but it seemed the last bit of color drained from the other man's face; he nearly made Draco look tanned.

"She-she said you would say that." He looked up and over his head as he spoke, anywhere but Draco's face. "Healer G-Granger said come to room 007 or-or she won't see you." He finally plucked up the courage to look at Draco's face and the nerve left him just as quickly as his eyes jumped to something of incredible interest just over Draco's right ear.

"It's in the ad-ad-administrative wing, out of the main door a-and-and to your left!" he pointed at a grand set of doors with wide eyes. Looking relieved to finally have given his message, he turned on his heel and hustled away, his steps falling so quickly that he was on the edge of bursting into a jog. Draco watched him go with that same frown still tugging the corners of his mouth.

"Honestly," he muttered. "I've half a mind to go home…" he trailed off as he slid a hand to his coat lapel, adjusting it with a quick tug here and there, knowing that was an empty threat. As much fun as spiting Granger would be, Healer Ojibe had made her point quite clearly last night; he was stuck between a hard-arse and a hard place and there wasn't much to be done about it. She hadn't said that in so many words exactly, but it didn't take a genius to read between the lines. Comply and maybe die, or don't and certainly die. Simple as that.

Well, at least they were choices he was familiar with.

With a gusty sigh, he pushed off the wall, lazily strolling through the main doors, ignoring the curious glances of the rest of the people in the room. The lobby was as spacious and warm as ever, with plenty of natural light to assault his tired and strained eyes as he quickly veered left, making a bee line straight for where her office should be. The numbers rapidly passed by as Draco's mind began to wander a bit.

It had been a little surreal to see Granger again. The last time they had laid eyes on each other, they had been standing in the ruins of Hogwarts. Their cheeks were ashen, and her face was twisted with emotions that he couldn't decipher as they glanced at each other, and honestly hadn't cared to. There had been a long list of things to worry about, and the latest thing to have her knickers in a bunch was near the bottom, only just above anything related to Potty and Weasel. It felt like it was yesterday and a lifetime away all at once. Draco hadn't been kidding when he said that he was a new man, even if their last encounter hadn't been the best example of that. Things were different, he, was different, regardless of what she or anyone else had to say. And as he slowed to a stop, hovering before the nondescript door, he wondered if the years had left their mark on her as well. Taking a deep breath he laid his hand on the handle, traded exhaustion for a confident tilt of the chin, and after a twist then push, he was in.

Keen eyes roamed the small room, skipping from here to there to touch on the many details within. The warm tawny floors, the deep maroon walls, typical, the potted plant on the large paper covered desk that had once been something green he had to imagine… and the startled witch behind it.

"So is this hour convenient for you, or payback for our little spat?"

"Malfoy!" she hastily tried to move some papers around to organize it before she realized it was a lost cause, defeatedly shoving her hands into her lap with a surly glare.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" she grumbled as he breezed into the room, swiftly yanking the door shut.

"I've head of a lot of things I don't do," he replied coming to stand before her. "And besides," he took an exaggerated look around the messy room before turning back to her with an arched brow. "Weren't you supposed to be expecting me?" Her face flushed pink for a moment but she quickly regained her balance, slapping one hand her desk as she stood up to lean over it, a finger pointing at him accusingly.

"I don't care if I knew when you were going to be here to the second, you still need to knock, that's just common courtesy!"

His narrowed eyes back made that pink flush go red and something in him tensed; he had forgotten how much fun it was, to push someone that wasn't too scared or busy kissing arse to push back.

"Tsk tsk Granger it's just your office. What, nervous someone is going to walk in and see something they shouldn't?" he asked slyly.

"Stop it!" she snapped. "If we're going to make this work you need to be civil! To treat me with the respect I deserve as your healer! This has to be a two-way street, I won't let you walk all over me, what happened last time won't happen again!" His eyes were sharp and challenging as they narrowed back at her. Respect? Even after their fall from grace a Malfoy respects whoever the hell he wants and demands it from the rest.

"Oh?" he asked mockingly. "The Gryffindor princess wants respect?" He moved closer, invading her space so casually, forcing her to back away as he advanced. Cursing under her breath Hermione ran into her chair and toppled into it as it hit the back of her knees. She glanced behind her, long curls loose today and bouncing about, as though she was surprised to see it there. When she turned back, Draco was even closer than before, his breath fanning across her face as he continued to lean in, replacing where her hands been on the desk with his own. "And what if I see fit to deny it?" he murmured, far too intimately. Flustered and angry she impulsively lashed out, pulling herself up to sit tall with bared and gnashing teeth.

"Then I don't work with you, why don't you get that I'm being kind?" she whispered back with a smoothness he suspected she didn't feel, her eyes flashing fiercely. "Without you, my life will go on." Pushing him back with a hand on his shoulder her gaze raked over his face, trained eyes pausing on every flaw his illness had brought about; the faint lines, the dark shadows beneath his bloodshot eyes, and the pallor of his skin, even for him. "Can you say the same?" As quick as it came her sudden bravado was gone, and Granger released him with a started gasp.

"Why does this keep happening," she whispered to herself almost too quietly to hear. Draco glanced down to see her hands clenched into small fists, white knuckled and shaking with tension. His brow furrowed and the first prickles of...something made themselves known in the back of his mind. Had it always been so easy to get under her skin? She muttered something for a moment and slowly her hands uncurled. After a deep breath she looked back to Draco but not at him, eyes a dark toffee in the shadows of her hair as she stared intensely past him. No one seemed to want to look at him today, you'd think he were a Weasley.

"That was inexcusably unprofessional, I-" she cut off as he dipped over to catch her eye with an appraising sneer.

"How Slytherin of you. My my my Granger, I see you have changed." Scowling at the insinuation she snatched her gaze away before warily looking back.

"And you still haven't." The air was tense, and Draco mulled over where to go from here. She was so easy to shake, almost too easy; it really wasn't much fun when the anger came so effortlessly. Even their last meeting hadn't really been satisfying the way he had expected once the initial shock of seeing her subsided. One thing was for certain, he hadn't been kidding when he said she'd changed; this impulsive snappy woman was a far cry from the tightly controlled Granger he'd known, letting loose only to deliver cutting jabs with pin point precision.

'Well,' he thought ruefully, a hand ghosting over his chin reflexively as he recalled that right hook. 'Sometimes.' Still though he had to pick his battles wisely. If she changed too much Granger might actually walk away from this, and then he'd really be trouble. Finally, Malfoy broke the tension and raised his hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay Granger fine. I can be civil, but don't hold your breath on the respect." When she puffed up angrily, and opened her mouth he cut her off effortlessly. "Oh so you want me to fake it Healer Granger? I didn't think you were that kind of woman, and I'm not sure I'm that kind of man, but I'll see what I can do." He watched in amusement as she slammed back into her chair in a huff, her hair flying in disarray. "So our next session," he smirked, innuendo and pleasure at her discomfort almost seeming to curl the corners of it as he straightened to his full height once more. "My place or yours?"

"Cut the sexual harassment too while we're at it, it's not funny!" she snarled, a light dusting of pink across her face again.

"No idea what you mean," he said innocently. "I'm simply trying to see where this thing will take place. I presume that's what you wanted to talk about?" Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"It is, but first Malfoy I think you owe me something?" A swift kick in the arse to get things moving so he could go home?

"And what might that be?" The look he got back nearly froze him.

"Don't play games," she commanded her voice tight with warning. "The way you spoke to me yesterday was inexcusable." When he opened his mouth to respond she wasn't exactly sugar and spice, she was one step ahead and blocked him off. "I wasn't in line either, but you provoked me and I apologized for being unprofessional. If this is to move forward, I would like you to do the same." Draco simply started at her speechless. Most people had the tact to hint for a sorry, to demand it outright... well it took some nerve and he shouldn't be surprised. She'd already shown she had it in spades. Normally he'd tell someone in this situation not on their life and he means what he says, but even he could admit he might have been hitting below the proverbial belt so to speak. Barely.

"I apologize for the untoward comments I made concerning you, your colleagues, and your level of skill." he said stiffly, formally. But after a moment's thought he couldn't help but tack something on. "However, I maintain what I said about your hair." Granger's dark brows almost disappeared into her hair. She clearly she hadn't expected get him to admit anything so easily before the last comment caught up to her, bringing them back to earth with a scowl. A hand rose to barely brush across her hair before she caught herself and lowered it.

"You almost had it until the end."

"Yes well," he said cheerfully. "I haven't changed that much. So shook hands, made friends and all that. Now, where will you be treating me?" She didn't seem to want to leave things at that, but with a small hiss of air and flexing of her hands she went along with the abrupt change in subject.

"Here, obviously." She looked around her cozy nest of an office and then seemed to think better of it with a self-conscious tweak of the many papers on her desk. "Er, but not actually here, we can find another room in St. Mungo's." Draco was hardly aware of the word before it left his mouth.

"No." Here it was Hermione's turn to arch a brow.

"No?"

"I'm not going to be dragged in here every week," he said offhandedly. "And I'm not considering your place, don't worry about that. I want to be treated in my home."

Hermione looked back at him startled for a moment before her gaze darkened. His home? There was no way she was going to let that happen. She stubbornly crossed her arms and snuggled into the chair, hoping her pose excluded the same easy confidence of her most difficult patient.

"I can't treat you there." She lifted a hand to loosely wave it about, gesturing to every corner of the room. "All of my materials and equipment are here." Lips pressed into a thin line Malfoy pushed a hand through his hair before slowly sinking into the chair opposite her. It seemed her chair was finally deemed acceptable to sit in.

"Then you can bring them with you."

"You expect me to haul everything back and forth? Absolutely not."

"I'll duplicate everything and keep a set of them myself."

"Duplicate?" she said incredulously. "Some of these things cost so much I was hardly able to justify a single set to the hospital, and you want to double them out of convince? They're far too expensive." He threw his hands in the air and sighed, exasperated.

"Granger everything in my home is expensive; your books, potions and overpriced muggle doodads will fit right in." Hermione pursed her lips searching for another reasonable objection to any sort of house calls. She had made a number of home visits in the past, her resistance had nothing to do with that. It was strictly… something more personal. He looked at her expectantly and out of options she decided honesty was the best policy. After all she would be requiring a lot of honesty from him in the next few months, it couldn't hurt to lead by example. Right? If he were more considerate it would be obvious, seeing as had a front row seat to everything that happened.

"Look…" her words crumbled to dust and she had to take a moment to pull her thoughts together. "I don't…" she weakly trailed off and looked up at him with a small frown. This whole honesty thing was a little harder than she expected. They were off to a predictably rocky start and the idea of having to cooperate with him was still a difficult one to swallow.

"Come on Granger, what's your next excuse, distance?" he asked flippantly, picking a spot of lint from his shoulder.

"I…"

"Out with it already, so I can shoot it down and actually do something productive with this meeting."

"I- I can't go back into Malfoy Manor." she said quietly, unfolding her arms so she could clasp her hands on top of her desk, her head angled down and away. There, she said it. The words carved into her arm, as fresh and scared as the very day they finally healed over seemed to burn at the mere mention of that place, and she fought her throat growing tight at the very idea of going back. Never again.

She braced herself for the scathing blistering comments, finding her weak points and then pushing them without mercy her shoulders rose, tense. He hardly ever passed up the chance for cruelty when it presented itself, and Hermione was going to have to learn how to stop letting it affect her if they were going to get anywhere. This was as good a place to start as any.

But when the silence stretched on, she tilted her head at him, only to find Malfoy seemed to be gathering some difficult thoughts of his own. Wherever his mind was, it wasn't in the moment with her. After a second of this, just before the pause tipped into uncomfortable silence, he snapped back into focus with a minute shake of his head.

"Who said anything about Malfoy Manor?" he scoffed, pulling at the collar of his jacket. "You think I still live with my mother? Granger I have money, lots of it," he sniffed. "I thought we just went over that." Hermione was startled to hear this and she failed to keep the surprise out of her voice.

"You don't live there? I thought you had to."

"Had to?" he responded crossly. "I don't have to do anything but be filthy rich, devastatingly handsome, and if you do your job," he jabbed a finger in her direction. "Healthy with a glow of life and youth about me until I die of old age." He finished with a flourish about his face. "So, you're treating me at my flat." She faltered for a second, a small childish part of her wanting to hold out against his demands. No one ordered her around like this; but after a moment she had to admit that okay a handful could, but they were the ones paying her.

'Though in a manner of speaking,' she thought, ever the one for technicalities. 'Malfoy is in fact paying me.' A triumphant smirk was starting to creep onto his face when she finally thought of something to say.

"I'm not your on-call nurse." She said propping a chin up in her hand.

"Sorry, do healers not make house calls now?" he shot back, leaning into his chair to rest his ankle on his knee, unknowingly echoing the subject of her earlier thoughts.

"This environment is more conducive to treatment."

"A white sterile building full of sickness and 50 thread count bedsheets?" he huffed. "Bullocks."

"It's too far!" she blurted out without thinking, and then she bit her lip, terribly embarrassed. Malfoy stared at her before throwing his head back with a huff of what could almost be called laughter, silvery blond hair flying away from his face.

"Granger now I just know you're stalling! I hadn't seriously thought you would say that. You don't know where I live," he paused to shake his head. "And what are you, a bloody muggle?" he asked archly. "I don't have time to deal with this, just agree already, unless you'd rather I darken your doorstep then?" Hermione blanched at the thought of him lounging all over her furniture. She'd never get the smell of smarmy git out of the house.

"Well," she shifted in her seat a bit. "I suppose the rooms here really are a bit uncomfortable at times."

"You don't say?"

"They're not that bad," she shot back defensively. "Anyways when are we to meet then? I would suggest the afternoons, I believe it would be the least disruptive to what's left of your sleeping patterns." He paused for a minute thoughtfully before he nodded in agreement.

"That's acceptable. I am free Sundays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays." Hermione dug into her desk for her schedule and scanned it before giving a low sigh.

"Looks like we'll be seeing each other for Sunday brunch then." The reluctance thick in her voice. As loathe as she was to give him her Sundays, her schedule through the week was simply too unpredictable to accommodate him.

"Why was I afraid you would say that?" he groused. "How does 12:00 pm sound?" That perked Hermione right back up. She tapped her papers against the desk a few times while Malfoy pursed his lips. He didn't seem happy to be sharing his Sundays either and well, this misery did love company.

"That is fine by me. Since you so kindly pointed out that I have no idea where you live, would you mind fixing that?" Malfoy pinched his face at her and Hermione laid her papers down with raised brows. "You know, my mum always told me if you make too many faces it'll get stuck that way."

"Muggle superstitions don't interest me," he said, waving the subject away. "I've simply realised I'll have to show you the first time personally. It's unplottable and well, a bit tough to find, by design."

"Paranoid?" she wondered aloud.

"Ever so tactful. Prepared," he shot back. "As far as some folks are concerned, Azkaban is missing an inmate and the rest still want to rub elbows with one of the last Malfoys that could get them anywhere."

Hermione's eyebrows knit together as she nodded her understanding. She didn't want to pity him and she was sure he didn't want it, but she did empathise. It was a little overwhelming at times being one third of the so called 'Golden Trio', Legends of Hogwarts, Heroes of the War, and that attention was mostly positive, with well-meaning intent. She couldn't imagine what kind of attention he must be getting, Malfoy Heir and the one-time host to Voldemort. Making a small to note to explore that as a potential contributor to his insomnia, Hermione smoothly brought the conversation back to making plans.

"Alright I understand. For the first meeting then, how about you pick me up from the hospital and I should be able to find my way from there." She offered up. He made a show of thinking it over and she just tapped her desk patiently until he finally nodded his agreement, to which she pasted on a strained smile as he stood to leave. "See? This wasn't so bad Malfoy maybe we can actually work together, if you can behave." He paused and looked back at her with a leer, opening his mouth before closing it with an audible snap after a moment's thought.

"Merlin Granger, I'm going to give this being cordial thing a good honest go, but don't push it." He shoved his hand though his hair and made for the door, carelessly tossing a wave over his shoulder. "I'll be here at 11:00 am then Sunday." Hermione looked at his back confused for a moment.

"11:00? I thought we just agreed upon 12:00?"

"Yes well, since you were concerned about it being too far, I thought that implied you'd want to get there the muggle way, taking the tube perhaps?" Glancing over his shoulder he made sure Hermione could see him roll his eyes before he opened the door. "But I suppose we can keep to noon if you want to go about this like a proper witch." He pulled the door shut behind him and Hermione only started after him with a faint sense of embarrassment, but mostly exasperated.

It was incredible, his compulsive need to have the last word.

A/N: Hello hello, I am happy to present, Insomnia chapter 3! Like I said I wouldn't post a chapter until I was happy with it, so the chapters may not be speedy, but they WILL come. This is true for no other reason than I actually write my stories backwards, I always know how they end and it's just deciding what happens in the middle. Even in my worst-case scenario of a series discontinuing, I was able to tell my readers how it ended. But rest assured! I have this one pretty well planned out. As always don't be afraid to leave a review! And as a note I'm American and trying my hand at some of the British spellings and words, so if I am butchering anything... please let me know, haha.