Love Ain't

Chapter Two

"I was thinking– maybe we could try that new Italian restaurant that Harry mentioned for our anniversary?" Hermione asks the man sitting across from her at the dinner table, though his attention seems to be on the newspaper in front of him, rather than on her or the dinner which she prepared for them. "... Which is on Thursday."

"Mhm," Ron mumbles, his brow furrowing at whatever it is that he is reading– quidditch scores, if Hermione has to guess.

Hermione sighs, pushing her asparagus around on her plate with her fork for a moment before deciding that she has lost her appetite.

"Unless you wanted to go somewhere else?" Hermione tries despite knowing that she could likely strip down to her undergarments right there in the kitchen and it still wouldn't get Ron's attention.

Without moving his gaze from the paper, Ron replies, "No, no. Wherever you want is fine."

Hermione frowns and stands from the table, picking up her discarded plate and cutlery and gestures to Ron's nearly untouched meal.

"Are you finished?" she asks, reaching to clear his place setting for him.

Ron nods, his brow crinkling again at the words on the sports page of the Prophet.

Hermione clears the table and charms the dishes to wash themselves before turning back to face her boyfriend, who has not moved.

"I'm going to bed. I have early rounds tomorrow."

Ron turns the page on the newspaper in his hands.

"Uh-huh."

Hermione exhales a breath, willing herself to not cry in front of Ron– despite the redheaded wizard being the reason why she feels the tears pricking her eyes in the first place– and heads up the stairs in the direction of her bedroom en suite.

Hermione tugs her jumper up over her head, then reaches into the shower to turn the spray on and let it warm. Next, she shimmies out of her jeans, a watery smile stretching her cheeks when one of Draco's taffies slips out of her pocket and clatters to the floor.

Hermione picks it up and frowns, tossing it onto the countertop beside her bathroom sink, frustrated beyond belief that her former-bully-turned-actual-Death-Eater-turned-Healer-colleague seems to be the only man in her life who consistently checks in on her or even seems to give a flying fig about her.

Draco makes sure that Hermione eats, even going so far as to ask his own house-elf to prepare meals for her. He checks in on her patients, even when he is absolutely positive that she is more than capable of treating them on her own. He doesn't complain when she invades his office, which she does at least once a shift. He even brings her coffee at the start of her shifts when he works the overnights.

They almost never talk outside of work. Their entire relationship exists inside of a vacuum, and that vacuum is St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

It hadn't been easy at first. Draco had been two years ahead of Hermione when she joined the Healer programme, having started out her career after the War at the Ministry, and she had already resented that he was clearly better at Healing than she was– as nonsensical as that was given their vast difference in education at that point. She had resented him even more when their instructor had paired them up and ordered Draco to mentor Hermione.

That mentorship had lasted for one year– Hermione's first year in the Healer programme. After that, Draco had moved on and became a full-fledged Healer while Hermione finished her training. The first year of the three-year programme is mostly instruction, while the following two years are half instruction and half practical work at the hospital. During her days at the hospital, she began to check in with her former mentor regarding her cases, and thus, an unexpected friendship was born. Even now, as a Healer graduate herself, Hermione still asks for Draco's advice on some cases.

Hermione steps into the shower and lets the warm water wash over herself, hoping that it might soothe the headache which has begun to pulse behind her eye sockets. She stays in the shower until the water runs cold and she is forced to vacate, and it's not until she is tugging her t-shirt over her head to get into bed that she thinks to herself that this can't be all that there is.

Hermione awakens early the next morning, surprised to see her boyfriend hovering over her with a mug of tea in his hands, seemingly waiting for her to stir. He reaches out with the mug in his hand, offering it to her.

"What's this for?" Hermione asks, trying to focus through bleary eyes at the man standing beside the bed.

"It's an apology," Ron says quietly, tucking his hands into the pockets on his pajama pants. "By the time I'd realized how rude I was to you at dinner, you'd already gone to sleep. I'm sorry, 'Mione. I was listening. We can go wherever you want for our anniversary. I love you."

Hermione takes a sip of her tea. It's bitter and a little cold, but it's the thought that counts, she supposes.

"I really am sorry, 'Mione," Ron frowns, and he does look apologetic, but therein lies the problem– he always does.

"It's alright," Hermione sighs, resigned. It's not alright, but if she tells him that, all she'll receive in return would be a rant about how he apologized and what else does she want from him?

Ron's shoulders relax and he smiles a half-smile.

"I'll be late at the shop again tonight, but I'll meet you at the restaurant tomorrow after your shift. I won't be late, I promise."

Hermione smiles a weak smile and nods, accepting Ron's statement for now.

Ron leans down and presses a kiss to the top of Hermione's head before he stands upright again.

"Have a good day at the hospital. Save some lives."

With that, Hermione is once again left alone in her room which she supposedly shares with Ron, though he's rarely home. Hermione takes one more disappointing sip of tea before she heaves herself out of bed and begins to dress for work.

Hermione steps out of the lift on the Neurological Maladies floor of St. Mungo's and is immediately greeted by yet another wizard holding a beverage intended for her.

For a guilty moment, Hermione finds herself more excited by the prospect of the coffee which Draco is handing to her than she had been by the tea from Ron this morning– and then she feels frustrated due to the knowledge that the coffee will be made exactly to her taste, whereas the tea had not been.

Hermione knows that she should be grateful for both occurrences, but a selfish part of her knows that she will savor her coffee in a way in which she had not done with the tea.

Hermione accepts the paper cup of coffee from Draco's hand and takes a sip, breathing a sigh of relief when she tastes the light and sweet, hazelnut flavored drink– her favorite, as expected.

It's only after she enjoys her first sip that she takes notice of the haggard appearance of her colleague and friend.

"You've looked better," Hermione states in lieu of a 'thank you' as she eyes Draco questioningly.

Draco looks at Hermione pointedly, his expression unamused.

"Don't be cute," Draco huffs. "There was another attack last night. I haven't stopped moving since midnight. Seven werewolf bites. Patil and I were running ragged all night."

Hermione's eyes widen and she gulps down the coffee she'd sipped prior to Draco's explanation.

"What?"

Draco drags a hand through his already-messy blonde hair and nods.

"Greyback?" Hermione asks, though she believes that already knows the answer to that particular question.

Draco nods.

"Go home, Draco. Get some sleep," Hermione glances quickly at her watch. "Where's Padma now? Or Susan? Who's on trauma after you?"

Hermione walks alongside Draco until the pair reach Hermione's office where she sets her coffee down and picks up the files on the patients she has to begin rounds on in ten minutes.

"Me. Susan came in last night to help with the attack. She was supposed to work the day shift in A&E today and I'm not letting her do both. She shouldn't have even helped last night considering she's due in six weeks, but it was all hands on deck."

Hermione leans back against her desk and holds her files tight against her chest.

"There's an on-call room down the hall. Or you can sleep on the sofa in here. I'll wake you after rounds," Hermione states, and it is decidedly not a request.

Draco opens his mouth, presumably to protest, but stops as a yawn interrupts him. He scrubs his hands down his face and rubs at his eyes before he nods, collapsing down onto the sofa to the side of Hermione's desk. Next, he kicks off his dragonhide shoes and rests back against the back of the sofa, his eyes already closed by the time his back hits the cushion.

"Thanks, Granger."

Hermione would respond, though it would be unnecessary considering the fact that Draco's breathing has already leveled out and he's snoring quietly, clearly already sound asleep.

Hermione finishes her rounds in a little over an hour, but before returning to her office to awaken the man sleeping on her sofa, she heads downstairs to the emergency department. She scans the room until her eyes land on the exact witch whom she had been looking for.

"Padma!" Hermione calls, approaching her friend and colleague where she stands at the check-in desk, presumably looking for the file of whomever her next patient is.

"Hey, Hermione!" Padma smiles, though she, too, looks exhausted. Her smile is genuine, if a bit tired-looking. "Did someone call for a consult?"

Hermione shakes her head and it occurs to her that what she is about to ask Padma is unusual, but the thought had come to her and now she can't turn back.

"No, I– Actually, I was wondering when your shift ends this morning?"

Padma cocks her head to the side as if questioning why Hermione would be asking, but she responds nonetheless.

"Nine. I might stick around a little later though to keep an eye on my patients from last night. I caught some sleep at my desk around two o'clock this morning, so I'm probably good for a while. Why?"

Hermione bites her bottom lip.

"Draco is picking up the day shift after working all night. He's sleeping in my office right now and I was supposed to wake him after rounds, but if I can let him sleep for an extra hour or two…," Hermione trails off– and she knows that she's probably overstepping, but that she would also feel infinitely better about knowing that Draco is working over twenty-four hours straight if he could squeeze in a few hours of sleep too.

Padma's eyes widen in surprise but she nearly immediately nods enthusiastically.

"Oh! Yes, of course!" Padma exclaims, her face scrunching in frustration as if she is bothered by the fact that she hadn't thought of this idea. "Let him sleep! I'll be here for a while, anyway."

Hermione thanks Padma with a smile as she takes her leave from the A&E department, leaving her friend to return to her patients, and heads back upstairs to the Neurological Maladies floor.

When Hermione's wand timer chimes that it's been the decided-upon two hours, she finishes up with her current patient, stops at the staff break room on her floor to grab a to-go cup of coffee– black with two sugars– and a Pepper-Up potion and slips quietly back into her office.

In the last three hours since the last time Hermione was in her office, Draco has readjusted himself so he is actually laying on the sofa, rather than sitting. His face is squished against the throw pillow and one of his extremely long legs is stretched out to its full length while the other is bent and hanging off of the sofa in a way which cannot possibly be comfortable. His left arm is dangling down over the side of the sofa and Hermione can see the rise and fall of his shoulder as he breathes.

Hermione tip-toes over to the sofa and takes a seat atop the small coffee table in front of where Draco is sleeping, balancing his coffee and his potion in one hand as she reaches out to place her other gently on his bicep to wake him.

"Draco," Hermione whispers, hoping to rouse him carefully so as not to startle him. "Draco."

Draco's eyelids flutter as he awakens, and to Hermione's surprise, rather than jolting awake, he seems to come around rather slowly. His stormy gray eyes seem to take a moment to focus on the witch sitting in front of him before a sleepy half-smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

"Pretty."

Hermione chuckles lightly, absolutely positive that she didn't just hear what she thinks she did– and that even if she did, that Draco is half-asleep, coming off of an overwhelming fourteen-hour shift and probably has no idea what he's saying.

"I brought you a coffee and a Pepper-Up," Hermione explains, probably needlessly, as she hands the cup and the vial over to her friend.

Draco's eyes widen for a moment before he seems to steel himself, taking a sip from the coffee then downing the Pepper-Up. He tucks the empty vial into his pocket and stands from the sofa abruptly, averting his eyes from Hermione's with a clear air of discomfort.

"T-thanks, Granger," Draco stammers, snatching his outer robe up off of the back of the sofa where he must've draped it sometime between Hermione's visits to her office.

Draco tosses the robe over his shoulder and steps over Hermione's knees in a haste to get to the door. He reaches out for the doorknob before turning back to Hermione and meeting her eye, his face set in determination.

"Thank you, Hermione," Draco repeats, this time more seriously. "Will you visit for lunch this afternoon?"

Hermione isn't sure what caused the change in Draco's tenor, but it's clear to her that it was a conscious decision on his part, so she simply accepts it and nods her head.

"Of course. I always do."

Hi, friends! Happy Friday! (:

Thank you all so much for your response to chapter one of this fic! (: I'm glad to see so many of you as excited about it as I am.

I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and as always, thank you so much for spending a bit of your time here with me this week. Your support is so, so appreciated. (:

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See you again next week!