Draco shook his head. He wanted to come off as sympathetic, but instead it came off as condescending. "I cannot allow him to be released."
Fleur looked at him, incredulously. "Do you even want to see him re'abilited?"
Through the years, her accent had gotten noticeably better. It seemed that moving to England had improved her pronunciation of the local language.
"Rehabilitated?" Draco repeated, just as irritated as she seemed to be. "How do you suggest that I rehabilitate a half-werewolf, or whatever you want to consider him, when no one has seen anything like him before?"
"'Ave you not tried the same potion that was used on Remus?"
It took everything in Draco to not roll his eyes. "Yes, of course we tried that. He doesn't seem to respond to anything that we are currently aware of. We've had this conversation many times. Can I go back to work now, or are you going to follow me around the whole day being insensible?"
He didn't care that he was being unprofessional. The investigation into the disappearance of Nora weighed on him heavily, and his confrontation with Astoria had left him rattled since then. It was as if women had cursed him, and the last thing that he needed was yet another one to complicate his life. Fleur had harassed him multiple days in a row, demanding that her husband be released from the hospital. It was clear that she had enough of everything. She looked exhausted and didn't seem to put much effort into her appearance.
Draco tried to step around Fleur, but she stepped in front of his new path as well. "What if I sign a release? Take on full responsibility?"
"It doesn't work like that. Not when he's a likely threat to himself or others." For a moment, Draco almost seemed sympathetic. It wasn't like he had forgotten all she had done for them, but he was growing impatient in general.
"'e needs to come home."
A silence fell between them, broken only by the distant sounds of regular hospital noises. It was clear that Fleur was desperate, but Draco knew he couldn't risk it again. It wasn't safe for her, nor was it safe for his career. He could feel Bill's claws racking through his skin again. His memory wouldn't let him forget about what it led to, how it was the reason that Nora came into his life. He knew it wasn't Bill's fault in regards to Nora, but he couldn't ignore how the thought nagged at him, and how much effort it took on his behalf to remind himself again and again that no one could have been aware of what it would lead to. After all, it had been Draco who had released Bill in the first place.
Draco wasn't sure when the silent tears had begun to flow down Fleur's face, which was still beautiful despite all she had been through and despite how little she had been taking care of herself lately. All he knew was that he felt immensely uncomfortable and wanted to leave.
"I need to go," Draco told her, quieter than he had intended. He stepped around her, and this time she didn't stop him. She stood there, holding himself, as he walked away and to his office.
He tried to shut out anything but professional curiosity as he looked over Bill's file, searching for anything that he may have missed the first hundred times or so that he had looked. Not only would it satiate his guilt over the entire situation, if he somehow managed to get Bill released, it might pull favour with Ron Weasley and perhaps they would ease off regarding Nora.
Draco's eyes went to the back of the folder, where the potion that they had tried to use was stapled to it for quick reference. His grey eyes flicked over it and knew that some ingredients could theoretically be switched for others, and although he had done quite well in potions classes (although whether some of his success was attributed to Snape, he couldn't say), he wasn't an expert and he feared that if he changed too much about it that it could have dire consequences.
In a fit of inspiration, he wrote out another potion. He doubted that it was all right, but he knew that there was logic behind it. He held it in his hands, unsure. Draco had made himself look like a fool in many ways, and had already been looked down upon in the hospital. Nora's disappearance only added to it, and so he felt uncomfortable. Regardless, he shook his head and stood. He tried not to crumple the paper as he brought it to the third floor, where they dealt with potion poisonings and injuries. The last thing that he needed to do was poison his own patient. Although they typically dealt with poisonings that happened to patients who were being admitted, he doubted that they would turn away their opinions on creating a potion. With so many people avoiding Bill Weasley and that typical area of dangerous people and creatures, he didn't have many people to bounce ideas off of.
Draco approached the desk for the area and was initially greeted by a smile from the receptionist, a woman with light brown hair that fell around her shoulders. However, once she took his appearance in and realized who he was, her smile quickly disintegrated. Draco vaguely wondered if this was what it was like to be the anti-Potter. Was the world exactly the opposite for Harry? It seemed quite unfair considering everything that Potter had ever achieved was usually through luck. Draco's, unfortunately, always seemed to swing the other way.
"I have a potion I need someone to assist me with," Draco stated, his voice barely hiding his irritation of his greeting, or lack thereof.
"All of the Healers are occupied," she replied, simply.
"I can wait."
She clearly was taken aback. She glanced over at the woman who sat next to her, who merely shrugged.
"Take a seat."
Draco smirked at her, and then pushed himself away from the counter. He was about to take a seat when he heard a male voice who sounded much too happy.
"Mr. Malfoy!"
Draco remained standing as a sandy-haired man approached him who he immediately recognized as Seamus Finnigan. Draco had barely been familiar with the boy other than knowing that he was on good terms with Potter and crew and that he had constantly been blowing things up by accident. The fact that he now worked with potion poisonings and the like seemed beyond ironic, but who was Draco to talk? He doubted that anyone had ever expected him to be a Healer, himself included.
He was also surprised by the greeting. Seamus appeared chipper and had addressed him rather formally. He was used to all ex-Gryffindors to use his last name only, so he was curious as to why Seamus seemed so… opposite.
"Unfortunately for you, I'm not here because I was poisoned," Draco drawled. He was oddly satisfied that Seamus' smile faltered somewhat, and he didn't know why. Draco wondered if his was his general distrust in Gryffindors, even after all that they had done for him.
"I didn't expect that you were. We do work in the same building, I am aware that you're a Healer," Seamus replied.
Draco fussed over one of his sleeves for a moment, uncomfortable with the fact that he seemed to be unable to escape Hogwarts alumni, particularly ones that he had known and didn't particularly enjoy the company of.
"Why did you come here?"
For a moment, Draco had forgotten. He showed the parchment that he had written on. "I'm not sure that you're aware, but I'm the lead Healer for - "
"Bill Weasley, of course I know," Seamus interrupted. "Everyone knows."
Initially Draco felt pleased that his work seemed to be popular, but then almost immediately released that the popularity most likely wasn't for good reasons. It was always the bad news that traveled fast, never mind all the work that Draco had put in thus far. It brought back the emotions that he felt during treating Bill, and how he felt like giving up. He felt immensely unappreciated, especially when Bill's family had begun to begrudge him as well.
Draco cleared his throat. "I went over the same potion that has been given to werewolves for quite some time now, but it hasn't worked on Bill. If I changed some of the ingredients, I thought that maybe it could account for his particular issues. For example…" he pointed at something on the list. "If we changed this for South Saharan beetles, that might take the aggression down. If we adjusted the amount of powdered bison horn, it could be a daily potion that reduces the chances of his temperament all month. If we can't properly predict when his outbursts happen, then by giving him a smaller dose daily, it could make all the difference."
Seamus stared at Draco as if Draco had spoken a foreign language. It was the most that Draco had ever spoken to Seamus, and the strangest part to Seamus was that Draco sounded intelligent. For a moment, there had been no nasty undertone or suggestion of malice. It had just been information, and not spoken condescendingly. Draco seemed professional.
Seamus sat and looked over the potion and Draco followed.
"My main concern is doing more damage."
"It's hard to predict damage when he's the only one of his type that we're aware of," Seamus muttered. "A waver would have to be signed."
"His folders are thick with wavers, I don't think it will be a problem."
"There doesn't seem to be anything that stands out as being wrong. I might substitute South Saharan beetles for powdered root of asphodel instead. The beetles might work, but they're much more difficult to find. The asphodel will make him drowsy, so the potion would be better taken at night. I would put in a very small amount to begin with, because I'm assuming you want him to wake up again."
He paused and put his hand to his chin as his eyes roamed the page. "That's what I would do. None of this seems like it will poison him."
He handed Draco back the parchment and silenced followed. Draco had never experimented with potions, not to this extent at least. Even with Seamus' input, it didn't seem right to be able to do this.
"Okay." Draco stood up. "Thanks."
His words had been flat, but he didn't know what else to say. Seamus put his hands in his pocket, and gave Draco a nod. His enthusiastic vibe seemed to have faded away, but it had faded into something else. It wasn't necessarily negative, but if Draco didn't know any better, he would say that Seamus actually saw him as an equal.