AN: Looking at the outline for this chapter, the material left was so scant I almost skipped it. It had been absorbed into previous chapters. But the story needed a lead-in or break before continuing so here it is. It turned out fairly well and prepares the reader for the next chapter.

Thanks for reading and the reviews and favs.

6. St. Mungo's

Hippocrates Smethwyck was from a long line of healers. No one really knew for sure when it started, but one of the Smethwycks helped save the life of one the Malfoys many years ago; and ever since that day, the families had been friends. Hippocrates was a wonderful healer but a terrible gambler. So when the news of his unpaid gambling debts threatened to destroy his position at St. Mungo's he called Lucius Malfoy for help.

With this story in mind, Draco was headed toward St. Mungo's this morning with confidence. Hopefully Hippocrates would be able to find him a suitable position and this humiliating public service would pass by in no time. He made his way to the condemned building of Purge and Dowse, Ltd. Double checking to make sure no one was watching, he smiled and stepped through the old window and magical passageway to the hospital. Entering St. Mungo's, he stopped at the reception's desk and then continued down the long sea-green corridors that were not really like the sea at all but some unnatural color of green found only in schools and hospitals. The air was strong with the smell of disinfectant and healers were pleasantly going about their business of curing the various maladies of the magically ill.

Hippocrates was in a large corner office on the first level. Like all the other healers, he was wearing a lime green frock. Hippocrates was returning a large medical volume to it's place in the bookshelf when Draco arrived and tapped lightly on the door frame.

"Excuse me sir," he said softly and the old wizard snapped around to take full notice. He had a pleasant round face and the top of his head was slick and bald while the sides had bushy white hair growing in all directions. He had piercing blue eyes that were now focused keenly on Draco.

"Oh hello – you must be Draco. Close the door and have a seat young man," Hippocrates said in good spirits.

Hippocrates' office was a massive affair with loads of natural lighting. There were bookshelves along the walls lined with countless medical volumes. Skeletons of magical creatures stood framed in action poses as if trapped forever in the lens of a fluoroscope machine. There were jar after jar of no-longer functioning body parts floating in formaldehyde, and house-elf heads peering out of jars in as if caught in the last gasp of life before being separated forever from their bodies.

Draco took a seat in a large leather padded chair across from Hippocrates' desk.

"Oh my yes – you look so much like your father. You know Lucius and I go a long way back," he said.

"Yes sir – I heard that story from Mother just the other day," Draco answered.

"Yes, well... we all make mistakes don't we. I can tell you, if the team that should have won the world cup that year had done so – well, I wouldn't have had to call your father for help," he said with a chuckle.

"Yes sir."

"But, the point is, I quit betting on Quidditch matches after that day. So... Draco, I have a report here from the Ministry. I'm guessing you know what it says," he said peering over half-moon style reading glasses.

"Probably... I'm hoping you can find me something that might be a little more dignified than my last assignment," he said shaking his head.

"A conductor on the Knight bus it says?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Draco, I'll help you every way I can, but I must tell you the Ministry will be watching things closely for the first month or so," he said with a stern look. "During that period, it will have to appear to the Ministry that they're getting their money's worth, if you take my meaning."

"I understand sir," he said and slumped sullenly. "Emptying bedpans?"

Hippocrates laughed out loud, "Oh no, no – nothing that bad, and after the Ministry decides they have better things to do than keeping a close eye on you, hopefully we can find find you something 'more dignified' I believe you said."

"Thank you sir. I'm sure you will," Draco said and nodded resolutely.

"Do you like children Draco?" Hippocrates asked and squinted an eye.

Draco was totally taken back by the question.

‡‡‡‡‡

Ron leaned around Hermione and asked the hostess for a balcony seat. It was the same little pub they had found a few weeks earlier and both left with a favorable impression and were eager to return. They were seated on the balcony at the same table they had before. The lighting was warm and the atmosphere had a casual and loose ambiance.

"I like this place," she finally said.

"Yeah, me too," Ron shot back, with a devilish smile and took a good pull from the mug of house ale.

"Have you started your Christmas shopping?" she asked.

"Sure!" he lied and then laughed.

"Liar! But neither have I," she added.

"I figured you'd be done by now," he said, pulling a face.

Hermione just shook her head. "No... waiting for a night Winky can go along."

"Is she shopping too?"

"Oh yeah – she's been saving her money."

Ron laughed at this and shook his head. "Who would have ever thought it."

"Yeah... going shopping with a house-elf – it may be a first," she said, grinning.

"Speaking of firsts," Ron said and took a drink of the ale, "Don't think Harry is coming to the Burrow for Christmas this year."

"Well, that's not to odd. Is he even speaking to Ginny?" she asked.

"No he isn't. And when I ask him about it, I get a strange look with no answer and pretty much the same response from Ginny," he said and furrowed his brows.

"Oh..."

"So what's going on here?" Ron asked, demandingly.

"They're just fighting, I guess," she said and then looked away.

"Okay," he nodded, "about what?"

"It's a long story Ron," she answered soberly.

"I'd like to hear it," he asked and Hermione stiffened a bit.

"Well, he went out on her and she went out on him and he got angry about it," she added as if it was all too simple.

"I thought they agreed to see others – that's what Harry said."

Hermione ducked her head and then glared back at Ron, "He only suggested that so he could go out with Sandy – he didn't give a damn about how Ginny would feel."

"Okay... so he went out with Sandy – Ginny was in school," Ron said sympathetically.

"He was shagging her Ron – how do you think Ginny felt?"

"Oh... I see, well it sounds like she may have got even. So what's the big deal?"

Hermione wanted to play ignorant and just go along with Ron. She wanted to badly, but she couldn't. She knew the truth would dig it's way out sooner or later. Lance had been out of town for some time now, so maybe now was as good a time as any for coughing up the whole story.

"She was going out with Lance Ron," she finally admitted.

"Lance – at the Ministry?" Ron asked, completely dumfounded.

"Yes."

"Bloody hell – no wonder Harry was pissed off. Hold on – how did that happen? Ginny was in school."

Hermione went mute and just stared away into vacant space.

"Did you have a hand in this? Did you introduce them?" he asked, now at the point of being upset.

"Well, how did I know things would turn out the way they did?" she said and played it innocently.

Ron took a hard look at her and thought in silence for a few moment, "Your friend Lance – he didn't didn't come to the UK because of the Ministry training – did he?"

Hermione sat there quietly. She didn't answer Ron's question. She didn't need to. The silence had said enough.

‡‡‡‡‡

Hippocrates was as good as his word – the first few weeks had been rough. Draco had no bedpan duties, but was stuck helping old witches and wizards in and out of wheelchairs all day and doing jobs no one else would touch; a simply rotten assignment. It looked like Granger and the Ministry had him by the bollocks this time. In any case, he wouldn't show the pain of his predicament in front of Granger. As usual, she was reading a report of some kind when he made his way into the Ministry canteen. He was running late today and lunch menus were neatly placed on every table.

"Morning Granger," he said in his cavalier and laconic manner.

"It's closer to lunch," she said with a chuckle. She was sitting demurely and wearing light blue custom fit robes with a matching quill of the same color. They were tighter in the waist and shorter in the hem than the Ministry issued full-cuts.

"Sorry, I had to run an errand for Hippocrates this morning – you got the note – right?" he said, plopping down in the metal chair.

She looked up from the report casually. Her eyes, stirring cauldrons of hazel, took careful aim.

"Yeah, that's fine. So how's work Draco – better?" she asked and finally broke into a smile. He guessed the thought of him doing work was enough to make her smile.

"Fine," he lied and gave a little sullen nod.

"Really - you don't seem too excited about it?" she replied with a calculating demeanor.

"Not as much as you are, I suppose," he fired back, looking firmly back into her hazel eyes. There she sat, as contented as a cat toying with the mouse before the kill. He tried not to think of how good she looked today. He tried instead to concentrate on the knee in the nuts she'd given him. But it didn't work – not at all. Granger had not spent her entire life being beautiful; most of her transformation had been recent. And because of this she had no idea what affect she had on men. But it was this naivety that made her even more attractive.

‡‡‡‡‡

He wasn't going to talk about work – not to convenience her at least. If she let the conversation sway to chit-chat, would it backfire as before?

"You're not going to talk about your work are you?"

"I'd like to hear what the report says."

"It says your performance was adequate," she replied and Draco picked up a lunch menu to study it contents.

"Do you people really eat this stuff? I mean, steak and kidney pudding – come on."

She was getting frustrated with his games. If he sensed he was getting the best of her, things might get worse.

"Not everyone can afford the Savoy for lunch – now back to business," she snapped.

"There's plenty of affordable eateries that can beat this Granger," he said tossing the menu to the table. "And by the way, wouldn't it be better if we conducted this business over lunch. That way, I wouldn't have to interrupt this work that you seem so fond of hearing about," he calmly retorted.

Already, and just a few words into this discussion, he had her pinned against the wall. How could she squeeze out of it?

"We're meeting here because you wanted to avoid Ron or 'Weasley' as you refer to him. If we met over lunch, it would have to be here, and sometimes Ron eats here," she said plainly.

"So why does it have to be here? Would it bother Weasley if we had a business lunch somewhere else, would that upset him?" Draco asked with a slight smile, obviously enjoying this line of conversation.

She thought of ignoring his question and getting back to business. But for a reason she couldn't fathom – not one she could easily admit, she was tempted to continue.

"It probably would – although he has no reason for concern," she quickly added.

"No, of course not," Draco shot back, smiling.

"Would it bother Astoria if we had a business lunch somewhere else?" she asked, chewing on the feather end of the light blue quill.

"It might. Although as you said before, there would be no reason for concern," he added.

"Of course, but it's only because she cares about you," she said, content in the thought the topic was finished.

"Cares about me?" he said and rolled his eyes. "A bit simply put, but more or less correct."

"Oh come on," she said, pulling a face.

"She cares for my money Granger. Not sure how much she cares for me," he added with a nod.

Was he for real? She doubted it. But he had stared back with eyes that never blinked. A forelock of blonde hair had fallen across one of his eyes. She squirmed slightly with a sudden and uncomfortable thought – she'd love to brush it away.

"You'll talk about anything but work, and it's obvious we're finished here today," she said as she rose from the chair. "Okay, I like the lunch idea – we lose less work that way. So, be back here in two weeks for lunch on Wednesday – the Wednesday menu is a little better. We'll continue to meet here until your work improves," she said and folded her arms across her chest.

"What about Weasley?" he asked with a wide eyed expression.

"There's no need to worry about Ron. I don't think he'll be a problem," she said and bowed her head.