Here you go! Next Chapter! (still no update schedule, but I'm more consistent than my other ones) I LOVE making little graphics and such for my stories, I might go back to the last chapter and make a few of the documents as I envision them? But you can only peep those on AO3!
I wrote the LAST chapter of this bad boy, so I know where we're going with this story, but I'm not totally sure how we'll get there. :) I hope you're into this, I know I am. I'm having a good time making this as accurate as I can, but them being Wizards/Witches really helps with some of it!
Here you are!
Friday, September 13 - Sunday, September 15, 1940
That morning, Hermione woke up, tangled around Draco. She watched him sleep for a few minutes thinking he looked quite peaceful in his slumber. Today was the day they were supposed to receive a telegram from the Ministry. She was quite nervous about the missive. Most of the week had been spent talking about what the Ministry would have them do. They continued to eat their meals in their room, and wander outside while they still had some sun.
After breakfast, a knock came at their door. A young man in an Army uniform stood there. "Dr. Malcolm?" he asked when Draco stood with his arms crossed.
"Yes, do you have our correspondence?" Draco intoned.
"Yes, Sir. Here it is," he handed Draco the telegram and saluted, turning on his heel to march down the stairs.
Draco shut the door softly behind him and made his way to the table where Hermione was sitting. He opened it and began to read aloud.
"We have received your papers. 'Doctor Malcolm' run the M**ic ward at Queen Victoria Hospital. 'Nurse Malcolm' will assist. Report for duty Monday 11 September 1940.
"No further correspondence will be delivered until return is established."
"Looks like we have our marching orders," Hermione said with a sigh.
"One more weekend here, and then we'll probably have to move on, Granger. We don't want to get too familiar anywhere," Draco said, reaching to grasp her hand.
"I know you're right, but I don't want to leave," Hermione whined good naturedly.
"Maybe they'll let us come back for the holidays?" he said with a chuckle.
Hermione looked towards him hopefully, "Christmas at the Inn was always so magical," she chuckled, "Muggle magical that is. Gran would always make these huge feasts and decorate with various shades of purple and grey," something Hermione had embraced fully as an adult.
Draco gave her an odd look, "Is that normal for Muggles?"
"What? Purple and grey for Christmas?" She chuckled, "not at all! Gran said it was something she learned during the War, this war probably. She always said that purple was for ambition and suc-"
"-cess?" Draco asked curiously. Hermione just blinked at him, "and grey for clarity and truth?"
"What? How did you know?" She asked astounded.
"Granger, that has been a Malfoy tradition since Armand Malfoy came during the Norman Conquest. Why do you celebrate it that way?"
"Time is an infinite loop…" she trailed off, "Draco I think we've always come here!"
"That does appear to be the case." He looked at her curiously, "Granger, what else did your grandparents tell you about the war?"
"Well, Mum always talked about how when she first brought dad home she thought they'd react poorly because he was Black, but then they folded 'Doctor Granger' in like he'd always been there."
"Well, you're a Granger and I'm a doctor? Maybe they thought he was our son?"
"Or some family relation!" She clapped, "Draco look at us making time loops! We'll have to ask to come for Christmas this year!"
He chuckled and pulled her into his side, "Time loops indeed, Princess."
That afternoon, Hermione was assisting Christine in the kitchen, while Draco was looking over some current Magical and Muggle medical texts. "We're off to the hospital on Monday, but we've so enjoyed staying here, you've made both Drake and I feel quite welcome."
"If you're around for Christmas, do join us, we'll keep your room open," Christine said in the no-nonsense voice Hermione was used to.
"Oh we couldn't impose!" Hermione gasped, "We can just make do."
"Nonsense, everyone should be surrounded by family on Christmas, and if your in-laws can't see what an excellent couple you and Dr. Malcolm make, that is their loss. You'll have to come, is there anything your family does special for the holidays?"
"My gran always decorated her house in purple and grey instead of red and green. They encourage ambition, success, clarity and truth."
"That's lovely! My parents only ever begrudgingly decorated, neither are overly religious, but we own an inn so we have to cater to the masses," Christine said with a chuckle.
"Granger?" Draco called from the hallway, "I've finished my studies for the day, would you like to go on our walk?"
"I love that he still calls your maiden name," Christine said with another laugh.
"It was a way to hold her at arm's length when I was denying my feelings, and then became almost a pet name. Calling her Mia or Miriam feels wrong," he said, smirking at her.
She rolled her eyes, "Somehow I was able to get over this first name aversion. We'll be back later this afternoon."
"Don't rush back, love," she said offhandedly, already going back to her stew.
As they walked around the water Hermione gushed about their Christmas plans. Draco just listened, looking at her fondly. After a few minutes, she stopped, "Draco! What did you learn today?"
"Well," he said sheepishly, "I was comparing the latest edition of my medical textbook to the current one, the epidural doesn't exist yet…"
She paused to look at him, "Mmhmm?"
"In the Muggle world, continuous caudal anaesthesia, an epidural, wasn't developed until 1941ish and didn't really go into use until 1942. The Wizarding world had a similar thing invented by a Healer who was here during the War from Canada, all that's listed for him was Healer D.M… Granger, what if that's me?"
"Time Loops!" She said with a grin.
"Time loops!"
The rest of the weekend was full of leisurely sex and enjoying the last few days of the late summer sun. On Sunday, Draco was quizzing Hermione in some of the healing spells that would be commonplace at the hospital when a knock came at the door.
David was standing there twisting his fingers, "Christine and I would like to invite you down to dine in the dining room this evening," he said awkwardly.
Hermione beamed at him and agreed, letting him know that they'd get dressed and be down shortly.
Hermione pulled out the nicest outfit she'd made and batted her eyes at Draco. "My Lady," he said softly as he leaned over and kissed her hand, "may I escort you to a fine dinner?"
She giggled, "Of course, my Lord!" she said demurely.
He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and escorted her down stairs. When they entered the dining room, the little boy that she'd seen on her first day waved at her, but when she waved back, his mother looked disgusted. "Major Malcolm!" Christine called when she saw the other guest's face. "Nurse Malcolm, I'm so glad you were able to join us. Now that the two of you are off, we'll be filling the room with another displaced woman and her child like Agatha over here." She turned to the sharp looking woman and looked down her nose at her. "Agatha, this is the Doctor and Nurse I was telling you about. I wouldn't be surprised if Hugh works under them."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Hermione said softly. "It's such an honour for my husband and I to be back and helping out boys. Is your husband out there?"
"I never met my dad," said the little boy offhandedly in the way little boys do. "Mum said he was a good-for-nothing layabout-" Agatha sent him a death glare and he quickly shut his mouth.
"A pleasure," Draco drawled, looking down his nose at the woman. "My wife and I are hoping to have your finest dinner tonight, Mrs. Beckley. I'm not sure what they'll be serving at the hospital, but it won't be anything like the food you've provided us." He swept Hermione away from the woman and her son and pulled out the chair for her. When she sat, he settled across from her and lay his napkin across his lap.
"So Granger," he said ignoring the woman's stare from across the room, "what do you think our accommodations will look like at the hospital?"
"I'd guess quite small, maybe something akin to a studio flat, I'm not sure if you'll be able to handle such a small space after your gigantic flat-"
"I'll have you know that I lived in a dorm while I was completing my dual Medical degree and Healer Certification, Ms. Granger!"
"I, for one," she chuckled, "am shocked. How did you fit all your haircare?"
"Now, now Princess, let's not even get started on hair care. We both know that you use the majority of the space on our crowded shelf," he winked at her.
Christine came by and set their plates in front of them, "Here you are, let me know if you need anything else," she said as she bustled away.
Monday, September 16, 1940
Monday morning, Draco and Hermione were standing in the lobby of the Inn at five in the morning. Christine handed them a bag with a few snacks to tide them over until lunch. "We'll see you at Christmas," Christine said, patting Hermione's shoulder. "I know we've only known you for a few days, but it feels like you've always been here."
Hermione felt herself tear up a bit, her grandparents had been integral to her childhood and she often had pangs of sadness that they were gone. "I know what you mean," Hermione said with a sniffle, "Drake and I weren't sure about how we would be welcomed when we got here, but you've really helped restore our faith."
Draco just stood quietly smiling at the two women. "We appreciate you allowing us to stay, we will definitely be back for Christmas, as long as the hospital gives us the day off. We'd best be off so that we don't miss our train."
Draco held out his arm to Hermione who gripped it in the hand that wasn't holding her suitcase as they stepped into the overcast morning. They made their way to the station and stood on the platform waiting for their train.
Hermione was wearing a smart suit in maroon wool. Her hair was braided back and tucked away under her hat. Draco was wearing a grey suit that made his eyes pop. His hair glamour that darkened the bright blond to be less conspicuous. She smiled up at him softly, and he looked at her for a few seconds then leaned down to kiss her softly.
When the train rolled in, it was quite empty. The two of them sat on a shared bench, their suitcases between their feet. The train ride was spent in companionable silence.
"Are you nervous?" Hermione asked softly.
"Malfoys don't get nervous," he said with a smirk. "I'm apprehensive, but mostly because I'm not sure what to expect.I'm quite used to our current medical concerns, but I have no idea what to expect in a war that is both Muggle and Magical."
"That makes sense," she said thoughtfully, "I think it won't be as magically gruesome as our war, but World War Two had an astounding number of deaths. We'll just have to stick together."
"You couldn't force me away, Granger," he said, holding her hand between his two and gently stroking her inner wrist.
When they arrived at the gates of the Queen Victoria Hospital, Hermione sucked in a breath. Draco squeezed her hand that was looped through his arm gently. "We can do this, Granger," he murmured.
When they entered, they were greeted by a wall of noise. A very frazzled looking nurse looked at them and said, "We aren't accepting visitors right now, there have been countless injuries since the first bombing in London."
Before she bustled away, Draco said, "No Miss, we're here reporting for duty. Doctor and Nurse Malf-colm. We were told to report today, but it seems we should have come earlier."
"Oh!" she said, looking slightly relieved, "Follow me, I'll take you to your ward." She turned and took off at a brisk pace toward their destination. When they arrived, the nurse introduced them to the Matron on Duty, "This is Matron McMillan," she said, "And this is Doctor and Nurse Malcolm."
Before they could even get a word in, the nurse had bustled away. "We're glad to have you," said the Matron, "We were told you have dual training?"
"I do, yes," said Draco warmly, "my wife is only trained in Magical Healing, but also specialised in Cursebreaking."
"And I'm a very quick study," Hermione said, "I did a bit of Muggle Healing in my day, but don't have any official qualifications."
"It will have to do," the Matron huffed. "This is your ward, you will share it with Healer Pye, she has the Night Shift. We've been having Muggle Doctors substitute in when we can, but have been making do with our less trained Healers, we're glad to have you, Doctor Malcolm. We occasionally get Muggles who are injured by magical means, and since the Blitz started we've been taking on more Muggle patients when the other Wards get overwhelmed."
Hermione looked around at all the full beds, trying to tell the difference between Muggle and Magical. "You'll notice," Matron McMillan continued, "that the Magical patients have this mark above their beds."
Draco nodded encouragingly, "That's quite smart," he said, turning to grin at Hermione, but his face dropped when he saw her face. "What's wrong?"
"I don't see any marks," she whispered.
Matron McMillan looked horrified. "Are you- Are you Muggleborn?"
"Yes, my wife is a Muggleborn, is that an issue?" Draco said, standing up to his full height.
"N-No, not really. It's just the marks are invisible to those with Muggle blood," she responded. "I'm not sure how we're going to get around that."
"What spell do you use?" Hermione asked, determination in her voice.
After a few moments of thought, Hermione waved her wand and all of the signifiers appeared above the bed. "This is not very efficient," she said, brusquely. "We need some labelling categories, ways to distinguish who is here for what reason, and also a way to monitor the patients."
"Well, Mrs. Malcolm," Matron McMillan, "If we had time to come up with silly spells it would mean that our ward is emp-"
"Thank you, Matron McMillan," Draco cut her off, "do you have uniforms for Mia and I?"
The Matron looked quite irritated with the pair of them, but handed Hermione a nurse's uniform and Draco a coat. They moved into a side room and changed into their new clothing. "I guess I hoped it wouldn't be quite so rampant," Hermione said with a sigh as she pressed the wrinkles out of her skirt.
"Unfortunately, that's not the case, apparently," Draco said with a heavy sigh. "Come on, let's go shake up the Medical World," he added with a grin.
When they reentered the Ward, Matron McMillan handed Draco a folder of files to look through. He and Hermione went bed by bed going over each case. Thankfully everyone was stable for the moment, so there wasn't much they needed to do other than change a few bandages.
After they'd gone through every patient, they approached the Matron again. "Your shifts this week will be from 7:45 until 4:15, we have three other Healers in rotation, Healer Pye, Healer Rosier, and Healer Fawley. This is Healer Rosier's off week, Healer Pye works night shift, Healer Rosier Day, and Healer Fawley is late shift. As you're the last one on the team, you will rotate into whichever of the three is off that week. I have paired your wife as your assistant, but she may need to be pulled at other times to assist."
"Is there lodging for us?" Draco asked.
"Yes there are a few Healers cabins behind, yours is Cabin Twelve. I can have someone show you to it after your shift."
The rest of the day flew by as Hermione and Draco cared for the patients. Hermione found that she quite liked the pace of the hospital. Around two they had a mysterious case come in. Hermione and Draco bent over the boy. He was feverish and Hermione watched him toss and turn.
"We don't know anything about this one, ma'am," said the man who dropped him off, "found him on the edge of the train platform, there was no one around him."
"Thank you," she murmured. When the man left, Hermione began running diagnostics on him, eventually having to call Draco over to assist. "I can't rightly figure it out, Doctor. The only thing I can find is a fever, but none of the normal treatments are helping at all."
Draco began to run some diagnostics and with a groan slumped his shoulders. "I've never seen anything like this!" he lamented.
"We'll have to bring down his fever the Muggle way," Hermione said, bringing ice over. The rest of their shift was spent hovering over the boy at random intervals checking in on him.
When their shift ended, Hermione was hesitant to leave the boy. Healer Fawley came in and greeted them, "Good afternoon," the petite witch said, "My name is Aurora Fawley you must be Healer Malcolm."
Draco shook her hand, "Yes, Drake Malcolm and my wife, Miriam."
Hermione grinned at the witch, "Please call me Mia." The witch smiled back.
"Then you must call me Rory. I see you changed our markings on the beds?" she asked, looking around.
"Yes, well I specialised in Curse Breaking, Healing is something I came to rather late, and only because I wanted to help, so I'm working on designing a way to keep track of vitals for the patients," she chuckled, "but I need to be able to see the markings to do that."
"We monitored all the patients, and almost all of them seem to be in stable condition, but for the life of us we couldn't figure out what was going on with this boy," Draco sighed. He went on to discuss all the things they'd tried and compared notes with the other Healer. After close to a half an hour, Draco cleared his throat. "We didn't get a chance to see our lodging when we arrived, so I think we'll be making our way down there. We'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yes," Rory said absentmindedly, "I'll look into some things for our young patient here in the meantime."
When they stepped outside the hospital, Hermione spotted the cabins peppered around the grounds. She felt the Muggle-Repelling Charm and Notice-Me-Not Wards around the area. Draco led her to Cabin Twelve and used the key they'd been given to open the door. They were greeted by a cosy looking space that had a combined living room, kitchen, and dining room, and had three doors that opened behind it. There were two bedrooms and a small bathroom.
"Not quite the luxurious penthouse you're used to?" she asked when she saw him looking around with a raised eyebrow.
"It's very…cosy…" he turned toward her, "but it's my favourite place I've ever lived because you live here."
"When did you get so corny?" she asked with a shriek as he dragged her toward him for a heated kiss.
"You've done this to me, Princess. But we both smell terrible and need to get out of these hospital clothes. Shall we inspect the shower to see if it's roomy enough for two?"
She rolled her eyes, but followed him into the shower, which really wasn't big enough for two, but they made do with what they had.
When they were done, Draco worked on dinner while Hermione unpacked their bags. Their clothing was hanging in the small closet and in the small dresser, the Clock was sitting on the mantle, and the other odds and ends they'd picked up over the last week, like a beautiful handknit blanket, was set out around the room.
By the time they settled at the small table to eat, Hermione was already dreaming up ways they could make the space feel more like home.
WHAT DID YOU THINK?
The Blitz:
In just the first few hours, 430 people were killed and 1,600 were badly injured. In the eight months of attacks, some 43,000 civilians were killed