24 May, Monday, 2200 BST
He drummed on the varnished second hand dresser. He squinted at the Muggle still photograph. The smiling young woman was dressed in Muggle medical scrubs and was sandwiched between an older woman and gentleman. He had recognized them from the graduation ceremonies at Hogwarts. It was after her first full 48-hour rotation on the job as a full-fledged doctor and Mr. and Mrs. Granger wanted to document it.
He sighed. It was the third straight night that he sat in her bedroom waiting for her. He remembered telling her he would call on her. Leave it to Hermione Granger to defy him. He smiled in spite of himself. He shut his eyes and waited.
o-o-o
Hermione took one last sip of her coffee as the older female doctor entered the lounge. She poured herself a cup of black coffee from the carafe and looked at her younger subordinate.
"Hermione, what are you still doing here?" the older doctor asked.
"The E.R.'s been pretty busy, Liz," the young doctor made a feeble excuse.
The older woman smiled. "How many hours have you logged?"
The young doctor shrugged. The older doctor raised her eyebrow, prodding her for an answer, "Seventy two."
"Hermione, you were the youngest doctor we've had when you walked through those doors three years ago. You're a great prodigy, kiddo. But not unlike us old hags, young doctors need their rest, too," Dr. Elizabeth Masterson, the head doctor of St. Augustine General Hospital said smiling as she gently rubbed the younger woman's arm.
Hermione was about to protest. She sighed as the look the older woman gave her reminded her of the looks her own mother had given her when she knew it was no use arguing. "I guess you're right, ma'am."
o-o-o
She draped her white doctor's coat over the back of the small couch in her living room. She made her way in the darkness to her bedroom. She didn't remember leaving her nightstand lamp on. Then again, she hadn't been home for the last seventy-two or so hours.
She heard the door shut behind her. She turned around and quickly reared backwards, stumbling before falling onto the bed.
She felt the bed dip as he joined her on it. He locked eyes with her. He saw the fear in them.
"What are you doing here?" she asked her voice wavering.
"I told you I'd call on you," he said, brushing a strand of hair off her cheek. She flinched, breathing in sharply.
"You're afraid of me, aren't you Granger?"
She looked into his eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek. "I'm just really tired, Malfoy."
He brushed the tear from her cheek. She looked into his eyes. "Please get it over with while I'm conscious," she said softly.
He smiled at her. She gulped. He ran his finger along her jaw line. She held her breath for a split second, looking into his eyes.
He looked straight at her, smiling, caressing her cheek for a moment. He gently rolled off her and lay next to her. She was afraid to move.
"Rough time at work?" he asked gently, propping himself up on his side.
She didn't answer at first. He waited patiently for a reply. She turned her head to face him. "The outcome of the war affected both the Wizarding and the Muggle world," she said searching his face. "The emergency room was pretty busy the past sixty hours. Your friends don't seem to know when to quit."
He took in a breath. He made a motion towards her. He pulled her in closer to him. She held her breath. "Get some sleep, Granger. You look tired."
Her eyes fluttered. She knew she should have backed out of his embrace, in case he tried to do anything. She shut her eyes, succumbing to sleep. The weird thing was she actually felt safe in his arms.
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