Healer

Task for Beater 1 (me): Write about a light character committing the sin of envy, or write about a dark character demonstrating the virtue of kindness. I chose to write about Draco demonstrating the virtue of kindness.

Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Round 6 for Puddlemere United.

Word Count without A/N's: 983

Prompts:

(dialogue) "I only came because I was told there was going to be cake."

(word) favor

(dialogue) "Have I told you that I hate you recently?"

This is also written for the Favorite Character Competition on HPFC.

Prompt:

(word) sly

"Have you thought of a career yet, dear?" Narcissa Malfoy asked her son, sipping some coffee, "Perhaps a Ministry career? As you know, the Malfoy name has been soiled after the war," she said, "We need to rebuild it."

"Well, mother," said Draco after some silence, "I'm still thinking on it."

The aftermath of the war was not kind to families who were past Death Eaters. The only reason Draco and his mother managed to escape Azkaban was because Harry Potter himself spoke at their trial. However, most of the ones that got off Azkaban were the ones that had mellowed out after the war—the ones that didn't hold much prejudice.

His one sentence convinced the entire Wizenagemot,

"They saved my life, Minister."

Draco never admitted it to anyone—and he never would—but he nearly cried at those words. Potter was now untouchable, he could've easily sat back and calmly watched as the Malfoy family suffered as his revenge for how Draco treated Potter over the years.

He didn't. He put the past behind him and saved them—which brought Potter up several pegs in Draco's book.

Narcissa frowned, "You should think about it sooner, dear."

"I know," sighed Draco, gritting his teeth, "I just need a little longer."

"Hey, Blaise," greeted Draco, walking into Blaise's office, "How's it going in the Law Department?"

Blaise grimaced, "Paperwork. Lots of it. Hey, whatever you choose, mate—don't choose law. Have I told you that you are rocking the hair gel?"

"Okay, what do you want, Zabini?" snapped Draco, whenever Blaise complimented him it meant he wanted something.

"I need a favor (1). My mother says that I have to go to Parkinson's nineteenth birthday…" grumbled Blaise, "I have to seal family connections and prove to her parents I was there."

"You're on your own with that one," said Draco quickly, putting his hands in the air, "As if I'm going to that."

"They have cake?" said Blaise, although it sounded more like a question.

"You actually think cake would lure me there?" asked Draco, raising an eyebrow, "Exactly how low do you think of me?"

Blaise just shrugged as an awkward silence filled the room.

"What kind of cake?" asked Draco.

"Vanilla," replied Blaise, smirking.

"We go. We eat the cake." said Draco, "We do not attempt to talk to Parkinson. We make sure her parents see us, and then we leave."

"Sounds like a plan," smirked Blaise.

"Have I ever told you that I hate you recently?" (2).

The party was small. Only a few Pureblood families were attending, and Narcissa insisted that she accompany the two boys there. She immediately went to talk to some Pureblood friends, leaving Draco and Blaise standing awkwardly in the sidelines, doing their best to stay hidden from the birthday girl.

"I'll kill you for making me come here, Zabini," threatened Draco, "I only came because I was told there was going to be cake (3). Where is it?"

"I don't even know," smirked Blaise, "But I got you to come with me, didn't I?"

"You sly little git," huffed Draco. (4).

The Parkinsons somehow managed to not get put in Azkaban. Draco thought it had to do with the fact that her father was resentful of Voldemort for always putting him in the lower ranks, and he played that to his advantage.

"Louisa!" shouted Flora Davis suddenly. "Darling, get away from there!" Louisa was Tracy's sister. There was a definite age gap between the two girls—Louisa was but nine.

"But mum!" she complained, "It's so much fun up here!"

"Louisa…" Flora warned sternly.

"Okay, fine, I'm coming," she sighed irritably. She slowly climbed down from the large fence, but as she reached one of the rungs, she let out a whimper before she slipped and fell.

Everyone in the garden quickly fell silent. Flora ran forwards to try and catch her daughter, but unfortunately Louisa's body hit a sharp tree branch as she fell, causing her to start heavily bleeding.

Tracy ran over, and she and Flora tried everything they could to revive Louisa.

"There's nothing we can do. The only way for her to survive is a trip to St. Mungo's," Tracy said grimly to her mother.

But Draco remembered a spell Severus told him about. What was it again? Vilneria Sascriptur?

No, not quite… Vulnera Sanentur. That's what it was.

"There's a way," his voice carried through the silent atmosphere. Flora watched with tear filled eyes as he slowly made his way towards Louisa.

"Vulnera Sanentur," he whispered, pointing his wand at Louisa's side. Draco watched in awe as the spell slowly gets rid of Louisa's wounds. He repeated it, "Vulnera Sanentur."

As the wounds slowly healed, Flora turned to give him a grateful look.

For the first time in his life…Draco felt productive.

It suddenly hit him: he wasn't going to make the same mistakes his father had.

"A Healer?" demanded Narcissa, "How will this help us gain our previous influence?"

"Sometimes it's not about what you want," snapped Draco, "Sometimes you have to let me make my own choices. When I healed Louisa Davis I felt like I was actually worth something."

"Well of course you're worth something," said Narcissa, "You're a Malfoy."

"Yeah, and that name's worth a lot after the war," retorted Draco.

Narcissa sighed. "Well," she considered, "A Healer might humble the Malfoy name, preparing it to rise up again for future generations."

He sighed. His mother would never change. What she needed to learn was that it was his choice what he wanted to do.

He wanted to make the world a better place.

When he saw her, all these years later, all bloody and bruised, that was when he truly knew he made the right decision.

Perhaps when he healed her, he could apologize for all he had done to her.

A/N: Done, even if I don't like it! For once, I'm below 1,000, but at least I'm over the 900 minimum xD I have finished my entry before I leave for New Orleans tomorrow! :) Thanks to Pete (petethehotdog) for beta-ing my story, and thanks to Slytherin's-one-and-only for giving me feedback! xD

Footnotes: four, one for each prompt used.

Please R&R :)

-Ana