As we continue: Tabitha gets a boyfriend, then she doesn't need one, Draco might have an alcohol problem, and everyone endures awkward interviews.

Fall 2000

Draco had left sometime before Christmas in Tabitha's fourth year. She hadn't intended to notice, honestly, but she had. After he'd "helped" her to study for a Potions exam (which she aced but, doubtless, would have with or without him) she'd let her gaze wander between her classes just often enough to spy him trudging towards the Herbology greenhouses. It was the same time, day after day. And then, just before the holidays, she stopped seeing him through the window.

No matter, after the break, Adam showed up outside the Ravenclaw dorms to ask her to be his girlfriend, like, his for real girlfriend. She said yes because it just seemed like the appropriate thing to do. And she liked the idea of a boyfriend very much. None of her other friends really had anything serious, not like her and Adam.

But now she was returning as a fifth year; she had just turned 15. Now she knew better than to need a boyfriend. She was going to break up with Adam. And she was also going to quit Quidditch because she had found a new passion: singing. She was fully intent on becoming the next great vocalist of the Wizarding world. Maybe she'd even start a band.

After Draco had completed his second go at the Herbology NEWT—with an O this time, duh—he applied for a job at St. Mungo's. He first had to be interviewed by the Board of Healers. They'd looked over his grades, had him perform a few charms and other spells, and Draco thought that would be it.

But then, they began to interview him. "Mr. Malfoy, if you'd be so kind, can you please tell us a bit about your time since the Battle of Hogwarts?" asked Healer Smethwyck, head of the ward that dealt with bites, stings, and burns.

"Er, well, I went back to Hogwarts for several months to improve my Herbology skills…"

"Yes, a few months. But you graduated in 1998 and that was when the battle occurred as well, what have you done with the rest of your time?" the man pressed.

Ever so slightly, Draco's nostrils flared as he let out a deep but steady breath. Those were not times he liked to remember, why were they pressing him?

"My colleague is too subtle," said Healer Tamridge, who no longer specifically worked in any ward at St. Mungo's and primarily oversaw things as one of the most experienced board members. "Mr. Malfoy, if we are to hire you we will need some reassurance about your well-known history with the Dark Arts."

Draco sputtered and covered it with a cough. "Of course," he replied, trying not to glare. He wanted this job. "I was… very young when I was forced into such practices. Now that… the war is over, I have been able to find autonomy and, er, move on with my life, if you will."

"But still, you have experience with the Dark Arts, more than most," Smethwyck continued.

"Unfortunately, yes," Draco had to reply.

"Unfortunate at the time maybe," the old man said, "But we could use someone on staff with that knowledge. You would be surprised how many afflicted patients we still see."

Tamridge still looked at him skeptically. "In which ward were you hoping to apprentice?"

"I hadn't quite decided," he admitted, "I thought myself best suited for either the Potions Ward or the Spell Damage Ward."

"The Potions Ward also includes maladies from plants. You yourself have admitted a failing in Herbology… needing to take the exam twice?"

"Well, I've always found experience to be the best teacher," he said proudly. It was a good answer. Kind of a smug answer, but a good one.

"I have no hesitancies, shall we take a vote?" Smethwyck said and looked to the ten other Healers at the rounded table. "All in favor…"

Smethwyck and the others all lifted their hands in favor. Grudgingly, Tamridge did as well. Oh well, Draco thought, Can't win them all over. Tamridge was old, she'd likely be retiring soon. And, even if she didn't, Draco could do nothing but prove himself in time. He had becoming incredibly good at keeping his head down and his focus straight.

So he was hired as an Apprentice Healer on the Spell Damage Ward, with orders to assist in cases involving Herbology at least 20 hours a week. The apprentice position was going to be time consuming and mentally draining work, but he'd make it. He'd sure as hell suffered worse.

Fall 2001

When she turned 16, Tabitha suddenly became the only one without a boyfriend but, surprisingly, it didn't seem to face her. On the cusp of graduation and NEWTs, life suddenly became all about school. It was a good thing she'd already dropped Quidditch, but she found herself forced to give up her musical aspirations as well. Not that she had been particularly good at singing or songwriting…

Tabitha had always found Gringotts bank to be abjectly fascinating. She had since the time she was a small girl and Liri had first taken her from Sweden to access her family's account. And so, toying with the idea of becoming a Curse-Breaker, she'd already received a perfect score on her OWL in Arithmancy. Now she was working her tail off for her impending NEWTs. Liri wasn't in the best of health these days and, even though the Dolohov family had plenty of residual wealth to its name, Tabitha figured a steady job would be a welcome distraction when she had no family left.

Okay so the job was a lot harder than he expected. By the end of his first year as an apprentice Draco had seen things far more unspeakable than he had as a Death Eater and that was truly saying something. People could be incredibly, unbelievably stupid; stupidity was the source of almost all the horrific things he saw these days. Who on Earth was dumb enough to lean against the flesh-eating trees of the Amazon? Their bark was a brilliant, unmissable red! And why did all of these young children feel the need to try out hex after hex on one another? Hexes were complicated; they inevitably went very, very wrong.

Strangest of all for Draco, though, was learning compassion. Healers couldn't discriminate against whom they helped. Thus, he had to get used to the occasional Muggle sent in after they'd run astray into the Wizarding world or a wizard had decided to have some "fun." He felt a familiar pang of deep seated guilt every time he was faced with one of those particular cases. His own father had so enjoyed that type of "fun."

Furthermore, as he primarily worked in Spell Damage, he ended up spending quite a bit of time checking in on the Longbottoms. Neville's grandmother had died and their son was perpetually tied up at Hogwarts. They didn't get many visitors, not that he noticed. He didn't go to visit though; he went to observe. They were insane from magical torture… there was nothing St. Mungo's could do about insanity, yet. After hiring him, the board members were determined to find a way to counteract the long-lasting effects of Dark Magic spells. So, in addition to all his other responsibilities, he spent a large amount of time studying new magic that might be able to help eventually.

But one day, as he stood in the Longbottoms' rooms taking notes, he ran into Neville yet again.

"What are you doing here?"

Draco turned, clipboard and quill in hand, to spy Neville behind him. He gestured to his lime green Healer jacket, "I, um, work here," he said.

"They're letting a Death Eater take care of my parents!" Neville raged, "I need to speak to someone about this! They can't do that! Not a… not a… a Malfoy!"

Draco cringed and put up his hands defensively. "Neville, I know this is hard for you to believe but you can trust me. I'm a Healer now, I've taken an oath to do no harm."

Neville blinked at him for a few moment. "You called me Neville," he said finally.

Draco let his notes hang from his hand limply at his side. "I suppose I did," he said and began to walk out. "I'll give you some privacy. If you have any questions on their condition, I'll be somewhere about in the rest of the ward… but I can tell you there's been little change."

"Thanks," Neville said flatly, an extremely confused look on his face. Draco began to walk out but stopped.

"Your parents… they were good people. Are good people," he corrected himself, "My parents can't say the same. I am sorry for what happened."

It was the first time he'd verbalized the shame he felt to anyone else. The first time he'd even fully acknowledged to himself. So stressful was this new job, he'd been spending most of his evenings with a great deal of Firewhisky. And the alcohol had also helped to dull the pain of his past and conflicted feelings about the present.

Neville didn't say anything else though, so Draco concluded with a nod and continued on his way.

Fall 2002

Perpetually on and off, Tabitha had gotten back together with Adam over the summer right before her 17th birthday. Liri had died; she was officially on her own. And Adam was so genuine in his concern for her well-being afterwards that she felt almost obligated to date him.

That school year, her final school year—she was sad to say, she got perfect scores on all of her NEWTs. Adam did not; Adam got very, very bad scores on his NEWTs. She used this as an excuse to break up with him claiming that they just weren't really on the same level and she needed someone a little more invested in their future.

Really, she had already been offered a job with Gringotts as a Curse-Breaker. She'd be taken all over the world working for them, there was no way she could tie herself down to a boyfriend!

Things were looking up for Draco during his second year of work. There were new apprentices around to the majority of the grunt work, of course. He'd also, finally, managed to win the trust of Tamridge—who was on the cusp of retiring, so it didn't matter much anyway.

Most strangely of all, he was becoming considered one of the Healers with the best bedside manner. He actually had patients who would request him during their visits. Admittedly, during his first few months at St. Mungo's, he'd had a hard time thinking of his patients as actual people rather than, like… practice dummies? Something to that effect, he wasn't sure how to label it.

But he'd gone so long without any real social contact that he found himself becoming perfectly happy to chat with his patients. He would stick around to answer extra questions for worried family members or to reassure lonelier patients that they would always receive the best care at St. Mungo's. He consulted with mothers who came with little boys prone to get into particularly tricky mischief. And he gave elderly patients patient and persistent instructions on how to care for wounds able to heal at home.

Over time, he didn't even notice if his patients were listed as half-bloods, muggle, or pure-blood. Believe it or not, they needed that kind of information as half-bloods and muggles oftentimes were brought in completely unaware that were afflicted with a condition only a doctor could cure, not a Healer. The non-magical maladies, he found, could often be even more disgusting than wizarding illnesses.

He saw his parents briefly around the holidays once or twice a year. He rarely even stayed over night. Draco spent almost all of his time working with no social life to speak of save… his occasional sojourn to the muggle world. One night after a particularly long day of work reviewing patient histories, he'd wandered into farther into muggle London than he'd ever ventured before. He'd seen a tavern of some sort, with loud, blaring music, and bright boxes with some sort of on-going game being displayed on them. He noticed that the establishment seemed to attract a crowd of muggles around his own age. And, all of a sudden, he'd felt a surge of intense longing and loneliness. He hadn't spent time with friends his own age—or even had friends—in quite awhile.

He went in and finding a muggle woman wasn't difficult at all. The muggles were all intoxicated, a state he found himself appreciating more and more these days. And his looks were startlingly different than most of the other men in the bar with bulging muscles, spray tans, and closely shaved heads. He didn't do it often, but we he did venture out he always brought a woman back. And she was always gone the next morning, much to his relief, without a word. He'd had no idea that muggle woman had some sort of understanding in these situations… but he liked this form of etiquette very much. He also had no idea that he was actually just hanging out at the wrong type of bar.

Fall 2003

It had only been a few months since her graduation from Hogwarts, only a few weeks since her 18th birthday, and Tabitha's life was a wreck.

She'd started her job for Gringott's right away and the program did not offer training. Curse-breakers were supposed to arrive ready to enter the business with legs kicking and wands wielding. Tabitha had the logistics and pragmatism of the spells she needed down; but there was no way to teach a person bravery, apparently.

And Tabitha had thought she was brave! But watching a colleague use a basic spell to remove the hex from some Mayan gold only to have every bone in his body turned backwards… well, that was more than bravery. That required just a little bit of insanity.

The one bit of slack that she was cut as a new hire was that she was first sent to South America for an assignment. South American treasure was known to be considerably less protected by magic than the finds they encountered in Egypt or ruins in China. She had been excited; it was her first trip across the Atlantic.

And then she'd been jinxed by a statue. Right, because statues inherently never stopped blinking. It was armed to release the oppognu jinx onto intruders and what had it summoned? Tarantulas. Tabitha quite just a few weeks later.

Liri had died, anyway… just a few days after seeing Tabitha graduate. From what they could tell it appeared to be natural causes. Tabitha had been left a considerable sum from the Dolohov name. Not an impressive amount, by any means. The Dolohov's weren't the Blacks or the Malfoys, after all. If she had decided to simply live in Sweden and do nothing, she probably could have lived on the funds by herself for close to a decade. But Tabitha didn't want to do nothing, she just didn't want to be a curse-breaker. So she gave herself a few months to think things through.

Of all of the patients Draco genuinely grew close to, it was impossible not to care for the Longbottoms. They were on his main floor, Spell Damage, perpetually. And while he did spend most of his time on the opposite side of the ward with outpatients, he frequently had to make trips back to their side with the other inpatients throughout the days and weeks. He saw them often.

It became the case that they started to recognize him. They probably didn't know what to recognize him as, or who for that matter, but his face was familiar. They liked his hair. Sometimes Alice would try to stroke it, humming a lullaby softly to herself and he always felt the uncomfortable and primarily unfamiliar pang of guilt and sadness. Guilt at the involvement of his family… his horrid Aunt's victimization of the Longbottoms. And then, inevitably, he'd think of Neville and the undue hell he'd put that boy through at Hogwarts. And somewhere even deeper, he'd think of how his own mother typically preferred to show him calculated coolness than genuine warmth. He knew she loved him; she'd fought fiercely for him when he'd been chosen to assassinate Dumbledore. Still, he wondered how different he would be today if he'd had a more loving childhood.

His own problems aside, his presence on the ward meant that he was always around when Neville stopped by for a visit. Neville seemed to try to make it at least once a month, but he appeared to have a busy schedule at Hogwarts. The second time they ran into each other at the hospital, Neville's discomfort appeared to have lifted. He actually waved at him.

Draco lifted his hand up in a half-wave before closing the file he'd been holding and deciding to go over to Neville. He wasn't sure what possessed him to do it; it seemed right. Neville could use it as an opportunity to blow up in his face if he'd wanted—he'd seemed close to doing so last time—and he would have every right to do so…

"Hullo," was all that Neville said though. He was carrying a small pot of brilliant white flowers with small stems. Moly, Draco recognized; they supplied it to Aurors to take regularly as it protected against Dark Enchantments. It would do the Longbottoms no help now but he suspected Neville was well aware.

"Neville," he said and held out his hand. Neville paused a beat but shook it firmly. "Your parents have been well… I know you're mum will appreciate the new flowers, she's gotten quite good using a muggle device called a "mister" to care for them."

"She's taking care of them?" he asked and they walked side-by-side into them room.

Alice laughed with delight when Neville entered and Frank began to clap, both wore huge grins. Neville paused to except his parents sloppy hugs before going to their window to look at the neat row of tiny and harmless magical plants, all flourishing.

"They always let them die before… or sometimes destroyed them," he said.

Draco still stood in the doorway to help maintain a sense of privacy for the family. "Familiar faces are useful for them," he said, "I try to stop by every day and, if I can't, there's another Apprentice Healerthey know well. And Alice… I mean, your mum, she likes to mimic actions. It seems to calm her down. That's how we taught her to mist." He gestured to the plastic bottle with a squeezable spray head. Neville puffed it into the air and Alice and Frank both applauded again, catching a case of the giggles.

Neville handed over the new pot to Alice and she hugged her son long and hard. Draco could see Neville tearing up.

"Well, please let me know if you have any questions," Draco said, turning to leave.

"Wait," Neville said. Draco looked at him, still hugging his mum. He said over her shoulder, "Thank you."

Draco nodded, "Of course," and, not wanting to tear up himself, walked from the room.

For the first time in a very long time, it felt like he might actually have a friend.

It was just a few months later, that Draco made the most important discovery of his life. Using an updated steeping technique on the onyx stems of the Moly plant, he was able to produce a hyper-extracted potion… knowing that, at the very least, it was just a benign juice, he allowed Frank and Alice to try some.

That's when they started to get better.

Fall 2004

At the still tender age of 19, Tabitha prepared for her entrance interview at St. Mungo's. She was terrified. Thanks to none other than Draco Malfoy, there was a new standard being set for Healers. At just 23, he'd found a cure for insanity caused by the Cruciatus Curse or any other Dark Magic. That same year, one of St. Mungo's eldest board members retired and Draco had been offered his place. Not only was he the youngest ever St. Mungo's Board Member, he was also the Head Healer of the Spell Damage ward.

Maybe the other board members would go easy on her during the interview, but not Draco. He was practically just out of Hogwarts himself… he was going to expect her to know everything. He was going to want to know why she couldn't hack it as a curse-break. He might even remember when she'd faked needing help for that potions exam. (Yes, it was fake! It'd been a complete ruse! She admitted it!)

When she was finally called in before the entire board though, she found herself making an effort to not look at anyone, not just him. But then she realized coming off as meek was never an asset to any job so then she started looking at everyone. But then she started to worry that might seem aggressive so she slapped the biggest smile she could onto her face.

"Tabitha Dolohov…" read a man she knew to be Healer Smethwyck from his interview on Draco's promotion in the paper.

"Yes, that's me. Thank you all so much for the opportunity to be here today," she said. Smethwyck and a few of the others smiled down at her, "I greatly appreciate your time."

"It looks like from your application," he began again, "That you and Healer Malfoy attended Hogwarts at the same time. Do you remember Mr. Malfoy?"

Tabitha looked directly at him with what she hoped was a believable smile, "I was quite a few years behind…"

"I remember you," he interrupted. His gaze was low and steady and of real confidence. He didn't return her fake smile, "But I can't speak to her skills, of course, as we weren't even in the same house."

"Yes, a Ravenclaw," began a new witch, Tabitha squinted trying to read her name, "My own house! We've had few applicants from Ravenclaw in the past few years I'm sorry to say."

"Normally, Miss Dolohov, I have to admit, we'd ask you about your family name and any, erm, impending connections," Smethwyck said, "But the Ministry has put a very good note on your file. They found nothing that raised alarm."

"I have no… um, no connections to the Dark Arts, no. I actually don't have any family left," she said.

The board members looked at her awkwardly. What exactly were they supposed to say? Thank goodness for that!

"I'm sorry to hear that," someone said finally. It was Draco. She gave him a short nod but hoped her eyes expressed her gratitude.

"I did not know them well to begin with," she replied.

"Well," Smethwyck said, leading the conversation once again, "Does anyone else have any questions for Miss Dolohov?"

"I do," Draco said. He looked at her pointedly, dead serious, "How are your skills in… potions?"

He cocked an eyebrow at her and just the slightest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Tabitha flushed a light pink. "As you can see, I got all O's on my NEWTs," she replied.

"Oh yes, sorry," Draco said, not even pretending to look at her file, "I must have missed that. One other thing… no one has asked: Why did you leave your last position with Gringotts?"

Tabitha chewed her inner lip. "Well, traveling to various sites of ancient magic is fascinating," she said, "But it's also incredibly dangerous…"

"So… being a Curse Breaker was too hectic for you?" Draco asked, prodding her.

"No, that's not what I meant," she explained away quickly. "I like high energy jobs. That's why I've applied to be here; everything you do in a place like this really counts. But is it so bad that I would like a position like that without having to put my own neck on the line?"

Draco laughed. "No, I don't think it is."

"Alright then!" the Ravenclaw witch said, "Which ward are you hoping to begin training in?"

After the shameless ribbing he'd just given her, Tabitha was embarrassed all over again when she had to reply "S-spell Damage."

The witch turned to Draco, "Up for another apprentice on your ward?" Draco nodded with a dismissive shrug. "All in favor?"

The board was unanimous; she was hired.

Thanks to everyone for reading! The second chapter took awhile to get up as I really wanted it to be perfect. I'd appreciate your thoughts and / or a follow!