Bill's eyebrows were furrowed as he read the consent form. He had days-old red stubble, which he ran his hand over. His eyes went over every single word carefully, and didn't care that Draco looked impatient. He also knew that Draco's impatience didn't necessarily have to do with Bill, but rather he was excited to start. Bill wasn't sure if this was over actually curing Bill as a human or because he wanted the pleasure of figuring out the mystery. He assumed that it really didn't matter, as long as the outcome was one that they both desired. He had been there so long that it confused Bill as to how all of the sudden this was presented to him. He wanted to ask questions but he also didn't know how the process worked and didn't want to condescend the work that the hospital was doing for him – what Draco was doing for him. He literally trusted Draco Malfoy with his life, something that he never thought would happen.

"Do you need to cover this with your wife?" Draco questioned, his face blank of emotions, but he radiated impatience.

Bill shared the same emotion, but he knew that he couldn't just react impulsively. The last time he was released – he looked over Draco again and remembered the damage that he had caused and a furious guilt washed over him. He had almost killed the man in front of him, yet here he was still trying to help. He felt the instinctive desire to hate anyone who had ever associated themselves with Voldemort – a name that now held no power to anyone – so he still admittedly felt conflicted about Draco even though he didn't want to. He was prejudiced, even after all this time, when Bill realized that their positions somehow reversed. Bill could easily be seen as the bad guy. Despite Draco's outward indifference, there was clearly something inside that motivated him to do this job. He never spoke of his reasons, but the two of them had shared so much at this point that Bill could almost decipher Draco's emotions without saying a word. This bond was unspoken, and Bill took it for granted.

His mind went to Victoire, the daughter that he had never met. He thought of his wife with the purple under her eyes, acting essentially as a single mother, a woman whose husband she wasn't sure she would ever see outside of the hospital. How he wanted to hold her again, to hold Victoire, who wasn't allowed around him due to his danger status. All he saw were photos of a girl that almost could have been anyone's baby. How much longer would his daughter not know him?

He shook his head. "No. No, I need this as soon as I can."

Draco actually smirked, the first real sign of positivity that Bill had seen in ages.

Once Bill signed on the dotted line, he practically snatched the parchment and left the room. It was almost like he hadn't been there at all. The room felt quiet, empty.

Draco walked as quickly as he could through the corridors of the hallway. People glanced at him curiously, but he was so used to getting attention wherever he went that he was able to ignore it. That was, of course, until he ran into someone and knocked said person to the ground. It wasn't his first instinct to help them up, but rather he took a step back to take in the scene.

A very red-haired woman had been the victim of their collision. She swore as she collected the papers around her. She paused when a certain piece of parchment fell into her hand, and as she read it over, Draco realized that it was Ginny Weasley. He wasn't sure how he didn't see it before. Her hair was long and flowed over her back as she was crouched down. Her outfit was impeccable, clearly a result of earning a decent wage. She stood up while some of her own mess was still on the ground.

"What is this?" she asked. Her eyes met him, brown and bright and rather fierce.

Draco became aware that she held Bill's consent form. He snatched it back from her. "Something that you shouldn't have seen."

Ginny didn't even seem to respond to the fact that it was Draco. She didn't flinch or seem surprised whatsoever. He could see in her expression the exact same one that he had seen throughout Hogwarts. The distrust was written all over her face and she didn't even attempt to hide it.

"This better not hurt him," she stated.

"As far as I'm aware, the intention in hospitals is to heal, not to harm," Draco told her, coldly. He wondered if she was aware of her brother's violence towards him or the fact that the two of them had been working together for ages. He wondered if she cared.

"As far as I'm aware, your intentions have never been clear," she responded, flatly. She finally took the moment to pick up the rest of the mess on the floor and then stood back up with a straight back. Her shoulders were squared and she looked intimidating.

Draco could have said so much to her, but he wouldn't even know where to start. He had run into so many of her family members, including her husband, but Draco had yet to run into this particular person. Out of all of them, she seemed to unapologetically hold the most anger and resentment. She had always been feisty, and it had always irritated him. Some things evidently never changed.

"Your brother has caused me more harm than I've ever caused him," Draco spat.

Ginny scoffed. "Was it not you who allowed him to be released?"

Silence fell between them. People pretended to not look as they went by, but he could feel their eyes on them.

"And what have you decided to do with your life? Being a Quidditch player? How high risk," he said, sarcastically. "When was the last time you even visited Bill?"

Colour rose to Ginny's cheeks. "That's irrelevant."

"Hardly."

Before she could retort again, he walked past her. He wouldn't have been surprised if she had shouted after him. She had always seemed fearless. Where others hesitated, she had always lunged forward. In that way, she had been different than the others. It never went unnoticed, and realistically she would have been easily baited if she had been the target instead of the other three. It had never been a priority… not really.

Their confrontation admittedly shook Draco. His confidence faltered, but he didn't want to show it.

"Ignore her."

Draco was surprised to find Astoria by his side. His thoughts had been so far away that he hadn't noticed the sound of her heels, the presence next to him. She didn't look at him, but merely walked with him. The tension between them was heavy, but neither seemed to want to acknowledge it.

"It's sort of hard with a voice like that," Draco responded.

Astoria eyed him with humour. "I wished that you were wrong, but I'm glad that she doesn't work here."

It then occurred to him, neither did she. "What are you doing here?"

They both stopped walking to look at each other. Astoria's hair was half-up and half-down, the down part curled into simple waves. She dressed in tight black dress pants that led to black heels. She wore a blazer with a silk purple shirt underneath. Although her outfit was noticeable, nothing was as noticeable to Draco as her lips. The feel of them against his pushed to the front of his mind. How he had wanted to go further with her that night in the apartment, how much he wanted to ignore the part of his mind that was triggered by her hands on him. Those hands which should have been discovering him only reminded him of the hands that had taken from him greedily. Her eyes explored his face, a question that she refused to ask even though it was on the tip of her tongue.

"I came to see you," she admitted – words that weren't the ones that she had wanted to say. Something else had been there, but she pushed them away as desperately as she tried to push away what she felt about him.

"I… I have to go do this," he stated. He was surprised by his stutter, how she pulled away the parts of him that would have responded aggressively despite the fact that she had done nothing wrong but shown concern.

"Yes… yes, of course." She, too, was surprised by how she spoke. It was like the two of them were trying so hard to ignore everything that they wanted to say and do that they were hardly even the same people that they typically were. She felt vulnerable and as if there was no one else in the corridor but them. She wanted to say something that would stop him from going, but nothing came to her brain.

"Look." He paused as if he had finished a full sentence. He rubbed the back of his neck, pensive. "I can meet you later."

For some reason, Astoria hadn't expected him to say this. After their last confrontation she had expected him to blow her off, not want to see her. She had been confused about what happened and she wanted to just let whatever they had just slide away like she managed to do with everyone else who crossed her, but this felt different.

"The bar on James Street?" Astoria suggested. The street was one in the Muggle community. Much like the Leaky Cauldron, the bar on James Street (named Wizards' Way) seemed to be unnoticed from Muggles. It was, however, different from the Leaky Cauldron as it was much more upscale, and much more up Draco and Astoria's alley.

He nodded at her. His eyes wandered over her before he began to walk away from her, making him feel more inexplicably shaken than his confrontation with Ginny.