Hermione stared at Malfoy aghast. Was this a punishment? Another "oversight" from Mungo's? This couldn't be real.
"Granger?" Draco asked, looking concerned when the woman didn't respond.
"Miss Granger," Rebecca tried, but still she didn't move.
"Shit, Becks, is she alright…you know, up here," Draco asked gesturing at his head.
Becky rolled her eyes and swatted her cousin. "Merlin, Draco," she admonished. "She's fine, just a little overwhelmed, I'd guess. What I want to know, is why she reacted to you like that," the girl said rounding on Draco.
The man held his hands up in front of him and protested, "I don't know."
"You don't know?" Hermione, finally roused, said incredulously. "You Don't Know?" she yelled. "You vile, evil little cockroach. You bullied me for six years in school. The last time I saw you, I was under a Crucio on your drawing room floor. The last I hear about you, I'm supposed to be testifying at your trial the following day, and then…nothing. It was like you dropped off the face of the earth and no one gave a shit."
Draco winced at the last part, and how very true it was. The witch stopped herself when she realized that she now would be sharing his fate. "Oh, Merlin, I shouldn't have…"
"No," Draco interrupted. "No, I deserved that, and more if I'm being honest," he responded contritely. "Uh, I'll get out of your way and let you settle in. If you ever need anything, my flat is at the end of the hall. Becks, would you mind helping me back?"
Becky gave him a reproachful glare, then helped him back to his rooms, leaving Hermione dumbstruck. A million questions whirled in her head, but strangely the one that stood out to her at that very moment was, his flat. Flat? She was told that the ministry had arranged for her to move into a women's dormitory with private rooms and an ensuite. "Not fancy, but more than most people get" they'd described it, like she was supposed to be fucking grateful.
But, those were not words that a Malfoy would ever deem appropriate for anywhere they resided. So, just what was she in for? This was definitely not a women's dormitory.
She didn't have long to ponder before Rebecca came jogging back. "I'm so very sorry¸ Miss Granger. I had no idea. I just thought it would be nice to see a familiar face. I.."
"It's okay, Becky," the witch interrupted. "It's not your fault. It was just a surprise, is all. Let's just go inside."
The girl nodded eagerly and pulled out a key. As she unlocked the door, she explained. "All flats in this building have your basic privacy, anti-theft and safety wards. You can pass through them with the key which you will have. We have a copy, of course, in case you have a medical emergency. You can have additional wards added, if you wish. We have specialists available."
She handed Hermione the key, then wheeled her inside. Once through she added, "The wards seal again as soon as the door is closed which will lock automatically. There's a cloak closet on this side." Becky gestured to one side of a long, narrow enclosed entry. "And over here," she moved to a low cabinet holding a large vase of flowers on the opposite side.
"Just press this button here on the back of the trim, and…" She pushed the discrete button and the front of the cabinet dissolved and a light wheelchair slid out right next to her. "This is your flat or inside chair. Do you need help moving over," Becky asked.
"Just a hand to steady me, I think," she replied, taking the girls hand as she carefully maneuvered herself into the new chair. She was immediately struck by how much more comfortable it was. It didn't feel like it was caging her in. Hermione reached down to turn the wheels and found it moved easily and smoothly, although she knew she wouldn't have the strength to wheel herself for very long in her weakened state.
Becky crouched beside Hermione directing her attention to a small control panel. "This is similar to a muggle mechanical wheelchair, only this one is powered by magic.
"How is that supposed to help me?" she said sharply. "I have none to give, and it will lose any personal magic simply by my presence."
The girl gave her a gentle smile. "The chair has protections to help prevent draining. It's power core just needs to be changed once a week, but it should work perfectly fine otherwise. This isn't St Mungo's, Miss Granger. We really are here to help you as best we can."
Tears fell once more and Hermione quickly wiped them away. She hadn't had such freedom of movement since the war ended. It hurt to realize how much independence she'd lost.
The girl straightened up and said, "This room is so you have some privacy when you switch chairs. The outside models are a little bigger, but still should fit in the cabinet. You can get a set with an interchangeable seat so you don't have to work so hard to transfer between them. Well, would you like to give it a go and tour your new home?"
Hermione felt a flare of excitement at the prospect, and didn't even know how long it had been since she had last felt that. "Yes, so how does it start?" she asked.
"Under the right arm is a small depression, the power button is there. That helps keep it from being bumped accidentally," she explained. The witch slid her hand along the underside of the arm until she found the button and pushed it. She didn't notice a difference in the chair though.
"Ok, as you can see, your control panel is on top of the same arm. You've got your motion buttons in the center, forward, backwards and turn left and right. The one in the front will open whatever door is in front of you. So, let's start with that one."
Hermione did as instructed, and the door swung open. She then went forward. She was surprised by how easily it maneuvered. The wheelchair she had been sent with jostled her terribly. She felt a rush of excitement as she moved forward.
Her elation soon turned to awe as she entered her new home. This wasn't just a room and loo like she'd been told. Rebecca walked past her into the flat. "This is your living room, and behind us is your dining room. To your right, you have two guest suites. On your left, down that hall is the loo, another guest suite, a study next to a small library, and then the master suite," she finished.
Hermione gaped as she looked around her. The ceilings were high and windows lined one side of the room letting in copious amounts of sunlight. It was lovely if a bit over the top. She didn't know what to think. "There's been a mistake," she said sadly. "I can't afford this. The Ministry is only paying for a single room with a private bath. Nothing more," she concluded. Merlin, she didn't know how she'd handle her real wheelchair after sitting in this one.
"No, mistake Miss Granger," Rebecca replied. "The Ministry has set up a trust, and its generous funds have been verified."
"I don't need this much," the witch countered. "I won't have the people paying for me to live in luxury."
The girl beamed. "Miss Lizzy told me that you would say that. I was supposed to respond by telling you, this is an active research resident facility. The rich pay handsomely for the finery they require, but that money is well used." she said primly.
"How?" the woman asked.
The girl bounced on her heals as she answered, "She said you would ask that too. That's why she sent me. I know all about Fernwood. Well, that and because my cousin lived next door."
"And the money?" the witch prompted.
"Oh, yes. The money is used to fund research, maintain the facility, and pay the employees a fair wage. It is also used to fund treatment for those who can't afford it and to provide comfortable living conditions for them," she said proudly. "You'd be surprised how many families dump someone here and forget about them, paying the absolute minimum for their care."
"That's horrible!" Hermione exclaimed.
Rebecca shrugged. "That's just the way it is. My family is rich, and they pay as little as possible. Before Miss Lizzy got here, I lived in a large dormitory with all the girls aged four to seventeen. We raised each other with nothing more to look forward to than to move up to the women's dorm. Our schooling was minimal, and our future bleak. It wasn't a way to live," she said fiercely.
The young woman nodded her head in agreement. Isn't that how she viewed her own future. A dreary monotony until she died.
"And then Miss Lizzie came here, and she changed things," the girl continued. "She brought in Healers, magical architects and engineers and all sorts of people that really wanted to help us. It was like night and day. So, I say, let the bastards pay for this. They would likely just waste it anyway. At least here, it will do some good."
That sounded very tempting. The kid was right. The Ministry would waste the money on a bloody gala or some nonsense. Maybe it could be put to better use here. For now, though, she was just tired, drained both physically and mentally. She'd started the morning early by saying goodbye to the only family she had left. Then took what had to be the oldest and slowest muggle train cross country only to find that no one was waiting for her.
It had taken hours to contact anyone to come and retrieve her. The whole time she had to sit at the station in her Victorian wheelchair being stared at. Another parting gift from the staff of St Mungo's she supposed. She didn't realize they had hated her quite that much. She'd be lying if she said it didn't hurt, but she really wasn't surprised. At least she was done with them now.
"Can I have some time to think about it?"
"Oh course!" the girl said enthusiastically. "I could show you around the facility, myself."
"Later though, I'm tired from the trip," Hermione added quickly in case the girl tried to wheel her out now in her enthusiasm.
"Yes, Miss Granger. I understand," Becky said reining in her excitement.
"Thank you, and please call me Hermione," she replied.
The girl squeaked in elation and nodded her head vigorously.
Hermione smiled. Well, it seemed like she had just made a friend.