Chapter 28

To say she was hiding out at work would be an understatement. Hermione Granger didn't hide from much in her life. She had all but jumped in to help Harry bring down Voldemort, and had been with him every step of the way. She had continued to strive to be the best version of herself despite being teased mercilessly by half the people in her class. She never backed down from a challenge, and took everything head on.

But somehow, the idea of seeing Draco again the next morning probably intimidated her more than anything else in her entire life.

So here she found herself, running herself to the ground at work in an attempt to avoid seeing Draco after their near kiss the night before.

She had barely slept because of it; and found the thoughts of the night's actions playing again and again in her mind. Hermione scrutinized every moment of what almost happened, and exhausted all possible what-if scenarios in the case that things had gone differently.

Like what kissing his soft looking lips might have been like. Or the thought of his lips on her neck while his arms were around her waist. And what running her fingers through his hair might have been like.

It was safe to say that she had it bad.

So that morning, she had snuck out of the house in the early hours of the day, arriving at work so she wouldn't have to see Draco.

Honestly, it was probably because she didn't completely trust herself to see him after the night before, unsure if she might just jump him and kiss his perfect lips.

She was getting too close; she knew that much. So she needed a small cooling period in which her hormones and overactive brain would go back to normal before she saw Draco again, and she had everything under control.

The morning had gone by in a blur, through patient after patient of urgent care, all of which were relatively simple procedures, and did not require much thought behind performing, much to her relief. So she all but floated through the day, taking on case after case, as she tried to occupy her mind.

She even had time to check in quickly with Kingsley to make sure that he was recovering, and to her relief, he was being discharged in a few hours. She had promised him that she would come by again before then to make sure everything was fine. Not only because she wanted to make sure that everything was fine with the Minister as they didn't need any more problems if something happened to him, but because the two of them had grown to be close friends in the events after the war.

She had one last case at the moment, before it was time for her to return to her research, something which had been sorely neglected due to everything that had been happening lately. She still had no idea how she performed that memory marking charm in the future, and despite not necessarily needing it, it was slightly frustrating to know that she would get it one day, but not yet.

As she stood outside the door of the patient she was about to treat, she looked over the file quickly. Jane Thomas, 30 years old, in the hospital because her son had grabbed her wand and accidently hexed her so that she now had a few extra fingers. It wasn't all that complicated to undo, yet at the same time it required a professional as if too many fingers were accidently removed, that would be even worse.

She opened the door to see a blonde woman sitting inside, staring at her hand with extra fingers. When the woman looked up at her, she could swear that she saw a look of distrust cross her face.

"Hello Jane," Hermione greeted cordially. "My name is Healer Granger, and I'll be your healer today."

"I know who you are," the woman said icily. "I just don't want you to be."

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, unsure if she heard the situation correctly.

"I don't want you to be my healer," Jane repeated. "I would like to request another Healer."

"Can I ask why?" Hermione asked, in a slightly stunned tone. She had heard of people rejecting Healers but it wasn't a common practice and she hadn't seen it happen to a single witch or wizard while she had been working at the hospital.

"Because I don't trust you," the woman said simply. "I know all about you and what you are about. You are the last person I trust to be healing me, you manipulative witch. I know all about what's really going in in the world, and how you and your friends are trying to cover it all up. Just because you helped save the world once doesn't mean you have free reigns to do whatever you want. You're not better than the rest of us."

"It's not like that," Hermione said softly, trying to gain control of the situation. "We aren't keeping things from you. I have no place in running the wizarding world. I have even less control than you might. I'm a healer because that's what I wanted to do for a living. Whomever you've been listening to has been sorely misleading you."

The woman's guard dropped slightly, but she still looked at her distrustfully.

"Look, I get it if you don't want me as your healer," Hermione spoke softly. "I can ask someone else to take over, and I can leave out that it's because you don't trust me if you're afraid that might cause problems for you. But that is the truth. If I'm keeping things from the world, then it is because they are of a personal nature, and I don't think everyone needs to know about my dirty laundry, just as they don't need to know about yours."

The woman nodded, "Just go on and heal my hand. I don't have all day, you know," she said, trying to push it all aside as if it were nothing, and Hermione hoped that she had gotten through the woman, despite knowing that there was a much larger problem at hand, and that there were still another handful of people that couldn't be convinced for every one like her that could be.

She grabbed her wand and quickly waved it over the hand in question, to restore it back to its original state before biding the woman a good day and walking out of the room.

As she walked over several hallways, away from the patient's room, she leaned against the wall, finding herself unable to breathe.

During her school years, she never thought she would end up here; with a job she loved and one where she could make a difference. During fifth year especially, when tensions started rising, she found out just how prejudice the world could be towards muggleborns. And in sixth year she started wondering if maybe her parents were right and that she didn't belong in the wizarding world. It became obvious that less and less people were likely to want to hand her a chance at her future because it was dangerous for them, or that they also thought poorly on her.

Yet against all those odds, she had finally gotten to where she wanted to be. She had fought against her oppressors and gotten a chance to do what she'd always wanted to do.

So the fact that this new threat was making it so that she might once again lose her dream job was almost too much for her to handle. She refused to give in to them and their beliefs. She had earned her right to this job

She took a deep breath to recompose herself, as she continued to walk down the hallway to her office. The last thing she needed was for there to be an article about her in the paper tomorrow about how she was having a meltdown and painting it as if she were having some sort of temper tantrum because things weren't going her way.

When she got back to her office, she hadn't been expecting to see someone waiting outside the door for her. She recognized the man from her school years, despite the fact that he looked far different now. His dark hair was slicked back and he was wearing higher end robes.

"Can I do something for you?" Hermione asked politely as she unlocked her door with a silent charm.

"I was looking for you, actually," the man said sheepishly, "I don't know if you remember me, Miss Granger, but we went to school together. My name is Marcus Flint."

Hermione smiled tightly, unsure of what the man wanted but she held the door open to him, gesturing for him to come in.

"I remember you," she said softly.

"Well you always did have a wonderful memory," Flint said with a grin.

She sat down at her desk as Marcus sat down on the other side, and she stared at him expectantly, wanting to know the nature of his visit.

"I was talking to Pansy Parkinson, and she was telling me about how you healed her after her accident, and I wanted to come by and talk to you about it," Flint admitted.

"I can't discuss the nature of her treatment," Hermione said, slightly unsure of where he was going with any of this.

"I know," Flint said quickly, "It's just that Pansy has always been like a little sister to me, and I wanted to thank you properly for that. I don't know what I would have done if something happened to her."

"It was nothing," Hermione said quickly, "I was just doing my job. There was really no need for you to come in person and thank me for any of it."

"Still," Marcus said dismissively, "I'm grateful nonetheless. And I was hoping I could take you out for dinner as a thank you."

She tensed up slightly. She had seen her share of grateful family members extending their thanks to her through the years, but she had never been asked out indirectly as a result.

It wasn't that she was against the date. It wasn't that it went against what she stood for as a doctor. She had gone out with Oliver after he was no longer her patient after all. But despite that, there was something very off about the entire situation.

She didn't doubt that Marcus cared for Pansy to some extent. They had been housemates after all, and it was usual to care for the members of your house to a degree. But she couldn't shake the feeling that Marcus' offer wasn't as simple as it appeared. There was something off about the air he had about him, especially since it had been a couple weeks since she had even healed Pansy, so why would he want to come in now? If his intentions were as pure as he meant them to be, wouldn't he have come in far sooner?

"I can see you overthinking it," Marcus grinned, "It's just dinner, Hermione. No strings attached."

"I can't," Hermione said simply.

His face dropped as a dark expression filled his face, "Why not?" he demanded. "Am I not good enough for you to go out to dinner with?"

She felt a jolt of panic fill her as she saw the shift in his demeanor. She clutched her wand under the table just in case Marcus Flint decided to try anything. But she wasn't in danger at the current moment so she decided to wait.

"I'm see someone else," she lied. She hated having to use it as an excuse, but clearly just her saying no wasn't good enough for the man.

"Sure you are," Marcus sneered as he stood up. "I guess that somethings haven't changed from school, have they Granger? Slytherins are still lowly scum in your eyes. I can see myself out."

She wanted to protest and say that it definitely had nothing to do with his house from school. But the last thing she wanted was for him to stay any longer than he had to. As he left, she decided to pack up her stuff. Despite not getting in any research, she had worked the required amount of hours, so she could always do the rest at home. So she locked her office door before she walked over to the floo and headed to Grimmauld Place.

Hermione was lounging on the arm chair in the sitting room, as Harry and Ron sat across from her, and Draco a little to her left. The two of them had yet to talk about what nearly happened the night before, and she refused to bring it up.

"That's definitely strange," Ron frowned as she finished telling them about what had happened earlier with Marcus Flint.

"It is" Draco agreed, "For several reasons. When I was talking to him earlier to try and warn him about being recruited, he became oddly pushy, trying to figure out how we knew everything. And on top of that, he barely talked to Pansy while we were at school. He might have said the odd word or so to her, but definitely no meaningful conversations which would warrant him wanting to come in to thank you in person for healing her, especially at such a late date. So it seems more likely that he came in to talk to you, and simply used the Pansy situation as a way to gain an in."

She shook slightly, "It was very concerning," she admitted, "As soon as I turned him down for a date, I swear he nearly looked like he wanted to turn violent."

"You still would have been able to have taken him if he did," Harry said softly, placing a hand on her knee. "I'm sure you already had several hexes going through your head in case things got bad. But still, I don't like the fact that it would have been so easy for him to gain access to you."

"Neither do I," Draco said, looking directly into her eyes. She felt herself unable to look away or break eye contact as he did so. She held her breath slightly, and blood pounded through her veins.

"Well we can't exactly place a security guard on her without becoming too obvious that we've done so," Ron retorted. "And as much as it would be great to lock up everyone we care about so they aren't in danger, you know as well as I do that Hermione would hex you if you tried."

She grinned slightly at that, sensing the truth in his words.

She was about to respond, as she heard a loud crash from upstairs.

Draco sighed to himself as he stood up. He was wearing tight pants and a loose fitting shirt, and she definitely was able to appreciate his body as he stood. He caught her eye, and smirked as she looked down, red filling her face. When she looked back up, he was already heading up the stairs to go find out what had happened.

"What was all of that about?" Harry asked, clearly not having missed the exchange between the two of them.

"I almost kissed him last night," she blurted out, not being able to contain it any longer.

"Oh?" Ron asked as he smirked at Harry, "I see the two of you are definitely getting closer then."

She sighed to herself, "Yeah," she nodded, looking down.

"You know it's not a bad thing to like him, right?" Harry asked her seriously. "He's a great person, and a wonderful father. He's hardworking and never once in the last few years as he insulted one of us. He's changed."

"I know!" she exclaimed. "That's not it. It's just that I don't know if we're right for each other."

"Why wouldn't you be?" Ron asked her seriously, "The two of you worked together in the past timeline. And before you spit out your theory of saying that things are different now and it doesn't mean you magically are going to be right for each other, consider this. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe, despite being able to change certain events with the paths we chose, that some things are meant to happen in any version of reality? Maybe you and Draco are meant to be together despite the different circumstances circling around the two of you."

"But what if it doesn't work you?" she whispered. "We have a kid together. What happens if we don't work as a couple, and it makes everything worse down the road when we inevitably crash and burn?"

"There's never a guarantee for anything, Hermione," Harry told her seriously. "Maybe you marry someone else, and you have two kids down the line. But then you start fighting and eventually neither of you can take it anymore and you get divorced. How is that any different than what could potentially happen to you and Draco?"

"Besides, you care about him a lot," Ron told her pointedly, "And he obviously cares for you too. So consider this: what if you work out? What if dating him makes you the happiest you've ever been in a relationship? Because you're right; things could end up going really poorly, but they could also work out and wonderful."

"And both of you would be okay with it?" she asked them, trying hard not to think about what life with Draco could have been like.

"I'm okay with anything that makes you happy," Harry said seriously, "Besides I saw those memories too. The relationship between the two of you was unreal."

"If he makes I'm okay with anything that makes you happy," Harry said seriously, "Besides I saw those memories too. The relationship between the two of you was unreal."

"Go for it," Ron said honestly, "If he makes you as happy as Luna makes me, then you definitely would not regret it."

She smiled at the both of them as she took a deep breath. Maybe it was time for her to take a chance.