[indent] The value of a good daily routine isn’t overrated. Early morning run around the Thames, cold shower, homebrewed pour-over coffee… watching the dark brown liquid slowly dripping into his favourite glass mug was enchanting and calming. He likes starting his morning in the same way every day, organized chaos, predictable free will, rinse and repeat. It helps quiet the thoughts in his head, the conscience that awoke inside him some 10 years ago, the night he decided not to betray holly Potter to his Master.
[indent] A shiver runs down his spine, as it usually does every time Draco remembers his past. Everyone has a few embarrassing teen years, almost everyone even joins a cult at some point. However, his was much more impactful and he already spent a decade trying to make up for it and will spend the rest of his life making things right. He rubs absentmindedly at his left forearm while getting dressed, covering up the mark with a neat, crisp, long-sleeved white button-down. That was also part of the routine – same sharp look every day, look respectable, but not flashy – way too many people knew who he was without him showing off the expensive robes or family relics.
[indent] He leaves the house at exactly 7:30 am, and apparates to the entrance of Purge and Dowse, Ltd. He likes being early, getting the night patients’ admissions’ files before rounds, sipping his second coffee going through the cases, and politely ignoring his colleagues.
[indent] - Did you see the wizard that came in last night? – they were chattering merely around him, politely ignoring him back. It was this unwritten rule to not address him unless it was strictly case related, and he was ok with that. – He was run over by a chariot! I kid you not, an actual chariot! He won’t tell us where he found it, probably illegal contraband…
[indent] Draco tunes out, he has no interest in the gossip or building relationships with the other healers. When he decided to become one, he didn’t do it out of sheer devotion to the profession, as much as he figured he’d find peace in this field. He refused to go down the paved path of privilege, favours, and pity and take on a mundane role at the ministry, slowly rising through the ranks of bureaucracy to a mediocre position in a rundown department, because no one ever would give him enough power, not after everything. He refused to retire to the comfort of his mansion – it was rightfully his now – and drink himself to death on the fire whiskey stored in the cellar. So, eventually, the only thing that was left for him was to leave the country or stop worrying about what people will keep talking about him no matter what and do something with that potential he was rumoured to have.
[indent] The training to become a healer was surprisingly easy, after everything he’s been through and his crash course on becoming a Death Eater, the complicated spells and curses, the endurance – he excelled in his courses, all though he also suspected that no one wanted to give him an especially hard time – people were hesitant to even acknowledge his existence for the first years after the war. And, well, the war… didn’t complicate things for him either – they needed healers and they needed them fast. So, fast forward to today, he was on his way to becoming a senior healer… as soon as he could muster the patience to manage interns, or even get some. He suspected he has built enough reputation around the hospital to make certain ambitious or desperate interns be willing to join his department and train under him, but he wasn’t yet ready to start working hard on their recruitment. Unfortunately, the rules were pretty clear – can’t make it to senior healer without committing to managing interns. And training them – not just make them run errands and change smelly poisonous bandages. The door to authority and respect was right there, he just needed to nudge it open and walk through it.
[indent] For now, Draco was trying to surround himself with interesting cases, so he at least doesn’t have to chase the interns, but let them come to him and beg him for a spot in the shadow of his glorious genius. And that’s why he was up and early in the hospital every day, reviewing the new cases that came in, fishing for something that will make him more interesting than the heavy burden he’s been carrying around since Hogwarts. Finishing his coffee, he opened the last file that was admitted last night. 28-year-old female admitted with 3 missing fingers on left hand – that was peculiar. Upon inspection, the on-call healer tentatively diagnosed her with the vanishing sickness. Draco read the line again – if this was true, it was the first case admitted at St Mungo’s since 1996. He got so ecstatic at this prospect, that he closed the file and rushed to the second floor without finishing reading the name of the patient. His ward was finally about to get interesting.
[indent] He scrubbed and prepped, wore the appropriate gear to protect himself from potential nasty spreading diseases and headed towards the last room on the right in the wing. Once he stepped inside, he held his breath and not because of the potentially highly contagious sickness. Right there, in the metal bed by the window, Hermione Granger sat in bed – alert and missing three fingers on her left hand. They locked eyes for a second and all the air left Malfoy’s body. He found the doorknob behind him and stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
[indent] Well, that was a turn of events he didn’t expect even in his wildest dreams. Not that he never ran into people from school – outside of the hospital or in it. There were the occasional functions and eventually he’d run into someone when he was shopping at Diagon Alley on the off days when he couldn’t get what he needed to be delivered by owls. But he rarely spoke to anyone, and he hasn’t seen anyone from the Golden Trio since the War was over. He has been deliberately very careful to avoid them at all costs. Until, apparently, one of them was talented enough to get herself admitted to his ward. Draco couldn’t afford to ask anyone to step in – it will immediately blow up as the biggest gossip – Malfoy can’t overcome his petty prejudice and refuses to treat war hero and veteran Hermione Granger. And with the tenth anniversary of the Victory coming up in May, Draco didn’t even want to begin to imagine what the headlines would be. He might even be forced to undergo one of those mandatory Wizard Resources Trainings about discrimination in providing treatment.
[indent] All of that seemed relatively more painful than swallowing his pride and treating Granger. Besides, the on-call healer was a buffoon, for all Draco knew, he diagnosed her incorrectly and she belonged on the fourth floor. Perhaps someone jinxed her and that’s what happened to her fingers. Yes, yes, without examining her or even talking to her, just by knowing Granger, he was sure that she could make someone throw a nasty jinx at her. He shook his head – no, he couldn’t think like that anymore. He was a healer now. He changed. He will treat her like a patient who deserves his care and knowledge. And sarcasm. He took a deep breath and stepped back into the room.
[indent] - So, - he resisted the urge to open her file and read her name off it. And mispronounce it too. – Miss Granger, I will be your healer today. Why don’t you start by telling me how you are feeling today and then elaborate on the injury and any other symptoms you’re experiencing. – He could do it. He’ll be professional and courteous, and he will dismiss this Vanishing Sickness case in the next hour tops.

Отредактировано Griffin Knox (2022-05-31 05:44:11)

[indent] When Draco was little, no one ever asked him what he wanted to be when he grows up. He didn’t have that basic childhood memory that everyone else did and probably was annoyed by. He was never given the luxury of having an option or the benefit of the doubt, that he can be anything else but what his father designed him to be. Groomed him to become. So, when the chain of extremely dramatic events in the entire wizarding world happened ten years ago, suddenly not only was Malfoy free from the claims the Dark Lord and his followers had on him, but he was also metaphorically free to pursue whatever dreams he may have had a child. Become whoever he desired.
[indent] So, after Draco looked up the words “dream” and “future” and understood their new context and how they applied to him, he felt unnatural calmness take over him - now he could let himself do something for someone else, help people, and not be scrutinized for it. He didn’t even know that he had this altruism in him, and it definitely helped that the way his Slythering brain worked, Draco explained this calling to be a healer to himself as the only way he could claim a respectable role in society for himself that was away from politics, sports, or academics. He told himself whatever he needed to believe that he didn’t suddenly develop a whole new personality overnight, or worse - had this entire set of values was in him all along but could never tap into it before. No, he told himself at first that he was hiding away by becoming a healer - it was easier than to be in the public’s eye by accepting the ministry job.
[indent] Then becoming a healer and facing the constant mistrust and bias became more challenging, so he told himself that now he wasn’t looking for any easy ways, he wanted to show everyone that he was worth it, that he was worth something. Finally, when things settled down and his job became a solid routine, great escapism from loneliness or commitment, he told himself that he didn’t need anyone’s approval, he didn’t need the attention or the recognition. He just wanted peace. And then, oh Momus, thy cruel godly bitch, how she loved to mock him. He was so close to achieving inner peace when Hermione Weasley-Lover Granger had to get herself into a gherkin and end up in his hospital ward.
- Charming as usual, miss Granger. - Malfoy’s ears were starting to pink up, which was a true sign, that soon his temper will follow suit and he will lose it. - I see that the need to be the smartest person in the room has not vanished, unlike your fingers, so you went as far as to diagnose yourself. - If she wasn’t holding her tongue and being openly hostile, why should he hang back.
[indent] Hermione looked like she wouldn’t need all of her fingers to form a fist and repeat the stunt from Third year. It took Malfoy all of his poise and force of will not to step away from her, as a precaution.
- Would you also like to speak to a manager, Karen? - everything was off now, he has resolved to use muggle slang, oh how the mighty have fallen. But something about this woman made him reverse to his idiotic adolescent self and act like the fool he was, openly admitting to her he was in fact familiar with muggle slang. Curse the nights spent drinking at the pubs near the business district, the things he has heard… but the Guinness was excellent and he was being sick from butterbeer at the time. - Unfortunately, I am the leading healer on this floor, head of the department - almost, she didn’t need to know that. - And unless you would like to go spend, what would turn out to be your last living hours in the trauma ward with Zacharias Smith, you are better off here. Just for your general information, this hospital’s first lawsuit came in thanks to Smith and his brilliant attention to detail, or lack thereof. - Malfoy took some pleasure in presenting Granger with this information. He wasn’t in the habit of speaking ill about his colleagues, however, Smith’s meek existence itself required an exception from this rule.
- Now, that we got the pleasantries out of the way, shall we proceed with the healing you part, so you can get as away from here, as much as you want to. - Malfoy was definitely regressing. Years of hard work were just thrown to the wind because of Granger’s furious face, darting dark eyes, and flaring nostrils. Oh, how he missed driving her insane. What sort of baroque masochism was that?! - I’m going to ask you a few routine questions and perform standard check-ups, - his voice relaxed a little bit, slipping into the familiar routine of patient care. - Would you rather I explained what I was doing or are you familiar with the shamrock method? - She stared back at him with pierced lips, so Malfoy allowed himself a smirk. - Named that because it has 4 basic components, and of course, because it dates back to the Gaelic healers, and you know they just couldn’t pass on the credit opportunity. - Malfoy took out his wand, murmured a standard protection spell and approached Hermione with hands stretched ahead of him. - I am going to touch you now, - he announced the way Goyle once approached one of Hagrid’s beasts in class and almost lost his finger.
[indent] Malfoy inspected Granger’s arm, first the one with the missing fingers, then the other one in comparison. He measured her pulse, checked her eyesight, and rotated her head back and forth, just for fun. It felt good having some sort of control over her until he thought he noticed that she fought back a flinch when he was about to touch her again, and that brought a pang of enormous guilt upon him. He hastily stopped his elaborated examination and stepped back. He already spent too much time in this room, getting nowhere except back in time but not in a fun way.
- When was your last… - he hesitated. He wasn’t timid or a prude, he was a healer so asking his patients about all kinds of standard bodily functions and fluids wasn’t new to him. But something in the way Hermione was staring at him with her big brown accusing eyes, daring him to finish his question… reduced him to a puddle of insecurities. - Uhm, I mean… When was… the moon and… the calendar… - his voice caught in his throat and he tried to cover it up with a cough. - You know what, that probably doesn’t matter, I mean, definitely doesn’t matter. It looks like you’ve been jinxed after all and it’s not the Vanishing sickness. I can have you transferred to the… - but, as he was so close to them going their separate ways, Momus struck again and one of Hermione’s adorable tiny ears disappeared right in front of his eyes. - Merlin, Morgana and all the dwarves, what the fuck was that!? - He rushed to her side, picking up a mirror from the bedside table and thrusting it into her arms. - What did you just do? 

Отредактировано Griffin Knox (2022-06-07 07:42:37)

[indent] Some people are naturally nurturing and soothing, their demeanour capable of putting anyone at ease. Some people are good in a crisis, they stay calm and collected and act as if nothing stressful is going on. And then there is Malfoy, who definitely isn't like some people. Sure, he is smart and capable enough to become a healer, and yes, he was showing off previously because the biggest regret of his school years, you know, aside from the whole "joining a dark cult and being extremely bigoted, cursing a few people here and there" was that he was never just able to compete with Granger and her giant brain, just for... fun. In a friendly competition way, for a spelling bee trophy, but in a magical equivalent. All of Hogwarts' competitions were life or death - yes, I'm looking at you the Triwizard Tournament, or for House Points, which on some level became life or death. And Granger was being so obnoxiously know-it-all in their school years, that it was easier to despise her and be viciously cruel to her than to attempt to compete with her on an intellectual level.
[indent] But back to our diseases - so sure, Draco wasn't naturally nice, and his bedside manners resembled a well-rehearsed dance routine that he did almost automatically, but one move out of place and his whole composition was thrown off. So, when Granger's ear decided to disappear, he quite frankly, lost it. But even in that sense, Hermione managed to overcome him and lost it even bigger, hurling the hand mirror across the room, shattering it into dozens of pieces.
- Wow there, - Draco instinctively stepped away from her, ready to duck in case the next thing she did, was aim at his perfect nose.
But no, she just proceeded to yell at him some more, call him a moron and question his diagnosis, again. Malfoy rolled his eyes and when it looked like the raging has passed, he allowed himself to step back closer to the patient's bed and even bend down a little bit, to inspect the very much missing ear.
- Fine, it's not a jinx. - He conceded finally. The fact that his diagnosis of a jinx was just a half-hearted attempt to get rid of her didn’t matter anymore because he wasn’t going to admit to that. - So, we are back to square one and should treat it as the Vanishing Sickness, I can't believe that the on-call healer was right. That never happens, he’s just so mediocre... - Then he looked at Hermione's fallen face and regretted his words. - I mean, it's a good thing that he was right in this case... good for him, I mean. And for me, I'll be taking credit for this rare case. Did you know there wasn't a registered case of the Vanishing Sickness in Britain in the last 12 years? That we know of, of course... because maybe people got sick and disappeared before they could get it on record... - Granger's face was growing more concerned with each word and Malfoy deeply regretted at least 90% of them. - I mean... ughm. - He closed his mouth, cleared his throat, and stopped talking. He should be listening instead. Granger was saying something and as much as it hurt his pride to admit it, most of the things Granger was saying had some intellectual value.
- What were you remembering? - She seemed to grow more exasperated with each minute and once again, Malfoy wished he did have the soothing powers to make her see him as a reliable healer and not just her old school bully. – Listen, Gr… Granger, can I just keep calling you Granger? I mean, I think we have ourselves a quite tricky situation here and we should get comfortable around each other if we watch to treat it, so might as well drop the act and get along? – He could not believe the words that were coming out of his mouth right now. Maybe he got the rambling sickness. First recorded case since forever, symptoms include complete and utter nonsense coming out of someone’s mouth without any connection to their brain. Huh, politicians have been suffering from that for years, it appears. Malfoy got sidetracked again and tried to focus on Hermione’s face to read her reaction to his extremely unconventional proposal. – The thing is, if this is in fact, the Vanishing Sickness, and all signs so far point to yes, it’s highly contagious and… well, - Draco rolled his eyes again, looked at the ceiling hoping to get his answers from there but to no avail. – I think I might be stuck here with you for a little while. So, let’s brainstorm this thing… tell me your theory. – He was going to be the bigger man and play nice. And if that didn’t work, he was going to break the window open and throw himself out of it, it was all the same to him.

Отредактировано Griffin Knox (2022-06-22 05:57:44)

[indent] It's never easy to face the mistakes you've made in the past as the new person you think you have become and put that new personality to the test. It's never easy for anyone, but it's extra complex if you are Draco Horrific-Past-Deeds-That-Hunt-Me Malfoy and your mistakes started at the age of 10 and didn't stop until pretty much the world around you was ending. If Malfoy was into that thing, the amount of atonement he would have needed to suffer through would have come up to approximately 40 years of pure altruism, kindness, and nothing but selflessness. Partially because of that and to a limited extent because it fitted his narcissistic personality, he became a healer. What a great opportunity to still be the superior being in the room while being praised for selflessly helping others. Draco felt like he life-hacked this whole thing, that is until the moment Hermione Granger landed herself in his ward and made him question every single word that had come out of his mouth since their paths crossed in first year.
[indent] She had every right to throw the awful things he has said to her in his face, even after he called a truce. Logically, he understood that, the rational adult in him accepted that, and the changed man he has become wanted desperately to show Granger that not only he can take it, but he can even do better. So it took a lot of restrain on his part, but he didn’t snap back at her, he didn’t try to correct her when she commented on his bedside manners, he just hung his head low, took a deep breath and looked at her with, what he hoped, came across his face as remorse for his past self:
- For whatever it’s worth, Granger, I am aware of my appalling behaviour over the years. I also realize that it can’t be easy for you to just accept me as is right now and it would be impossible to just pretend as if nothing happened. My presence probably isn’t bringing the best memories for you, but if you are willing to try and find it in you to trust me when I tell you that I have nothing but the best intentions to find a cure for this and help you, I on my part will deliver that cure to you on a silver platter. There is no one here who will is more interested in curing you, so your disappearance is not pinned on me as an intentional slow-burn revenge plan.
[indent] It wasn’t an apology exactly, but it was the closest he could find himself get there without dissolving into a messy puddle of regrets and apologies that won’t change the past but will waste a lot of time in the present. If nothing else, Granger was a practical and smart witch, she understood the importance of time and an apology from the person who called her a “mudblood” for seven years is probably not on her list of priorities at the moment. They had more pressing matters to address, so Malfoy put all of that behind him and did his best to disassociate from his ego. On a good day, he was able to ignore it almost completely, on a bad one - it was suffocating him every moment of the day. Today, right now, he couldn’t afford that distraction.
- You are correct, 10 points to Griffindor, as usual. - Draco surprised himself that there was no malice in his voice, he even smiled weakly. - Strong emotions of any kind, but especially fear, anger, or exasperation can expedite the effects of the illness. This is unfortunate because the most natural reaction to misplacing one’s fingers or an ear would be utter panic. So, we will try to keep you as calm as possible, do you know any good breathing techniques? - Malfoy had no idea if Hermione had children, but he also suspected that she may have taken a Lamaze class at some point in her life because she couldn’t resist the need for knowledge. Also, wasn’t yoga a super popular thing in the muggle world right now? - A list of anyone with who you have been in close contact for over 10 minutes, similar to how we have been spending our time here, in the last 48 hours, would be handy. You can write it down and we’ll send it to the administration department to get in touch with them and check if they are… well, still around.
[indent] Malfoy pulled up a chair and placed it by the wall, next to the bed. He sat on it, put his feet up on the bed and stretched, preparing to spend a lot of time in this position, while they observed Hermione’s developing condition.
- Well-well, I guess you don’t know everything after all, - he grinned at her, but once again, like with the previous comment, there was no bitterness in his words. - Luckily for you, I wrote an extended research paper on the Vanishing Sickness in my last year of healers school. - Malfoy dramatically cleared his throat, as if preparing for an elaborate lecture. - The Vanishing Sickness is a highly contagious disease, provoked by a bite from a rare magical bug. - He intently looked at Hermione. - That’s it, that’s all that is known in the literature about this sickness. Congratulations, you’ve been bugged with one of the rarest types of insects. - He smirked at his own pun. - Are you done with the list? - he extended his hand to take the parchment from her and tried extra hard not to look at it, he didn’t need to see the names of all the Weasleys, Potter, potential, past and current lovers, friends, colleagues, and who knows how many other people that Granger found the time and energy to spend quality time with daily.
[indent] With her list in hand, and after finishing scribbling somethinging on his own parchment, he headed towards the door and slipped them under the gap, then he waved his wand and muttered a few words under his breath.
- Alright, now we wait for my useless interns to arrive with all the reading material your heart desires and we will do what you do best, Granger. - He sat back down on the chair and made himself comfortable once again. - We will finally find out who reads faster. - It was becoming easier and easier to just smile at her.

[indent] He could feel her physically relax, this was a good start. Both for her wellbeing - the less stressed or angry she felt, the slower the vanishing would progress. And it wasn't too shabby for him either - the calmer she stayed around him, the more chances he'll make it out of this insane situation both alive and not an accidental murderer of War Hero Hermione Granger. Egos were fragile things and it was just possible that this room currently contained the two most precious ones in the entire Wizarding World - and Draco had full intentions on not bruising his or Hermione's for the sake of the new peace they all lived in and fought so hard (some harder than others) to achieve.
[indent] He chuckled gently at her remarks, that breathing techniques drove her nuts. Some things never changed - he was quite certain that if nothing else, the conclusion of today's adventure will be exactly that "some things never change". Hermione The Stress Granger grew up to be as intense as ever, not learning how to relax or slow down, as usual. Malfoy respected that. He could work with that. Frankly, he had a very hard time getting on board with the newest trends that tried to slow everyone down and make them concentrate on their mental health. Some weird muggle trend coming from America, where else, making people do meditation and yoga, teaching them how to breathe as if that wasn't pretty much the only thing that human being managed to learn and master by themselves pretty much since the minute they were born. So yes, Malfoy fully agreed on this one with Granger - breathing and calming down techniques were overrated. Healer Malfoy however... had to acknowledge the centuries-old studies linking calmer and steadier breathing with better spellcasting performance, more reliable potions outcomes, and of course, surviving. Malfoy-Malfoy reached a compromise between himself and his healer self and sneakily decided to calm Hermione down, or at least distract her enough from her disappearing appendages by making her do what Hermione Granger did best - go to the library. Figuratively speaking, of course, because the two of them really were confined to this room for an undermined amount of time. But if Granger can't go to the library, then the library comes to Granger.
- No, luckily for muggles, most magical ailments and sicknesses don't transmit to them. - Casually replied Draco, although he could sense that Hermione wasn't asking just out of pure curiosity, but out of genuine concern. Because her parents were muggles, you idiot. Remember? You used to remember this one and also made sure to remind it to everyone else quite a lot in Hogwarts.
[indent] Mentioning the books and the reading challenge worked like a charm - some colour came back to her cheeks, she became slightly more animated, and even shared some delightfully mundane anecdotes from her work life. With him! Malfoy could scarcely believe it himself, but he tried really hard to act as if this was nothing but ordinary - him hanging out with a patient. Despite the best performance that he was putting in front of her, that performance being called "lovely bedside manners", Malfoy had to admit, at least to himself, that this was quite unusual. He was never more than politely cold at best with his patients, no matter how scared, agitated, sick, or adorable they were. He just went through the motions of acting like a decent human being because he knew that his reputation preceded him, so what was the point to try and be nice if people heard that they will be treated by Healer Malfoy and physically shrunk in their beds anticipating the worst? But today, today was different. There was just no way in hell he was admitting that to her.
[indent] Some time went in pleasant silence and just the slightest ruffle of parchment. Draco loved reading, but he never realized how nice it was to just read near someone who also enjoyed this old-fashioned and outdated activity. And it's not like in school he was ever a part of any study group with his mates. Cramming for exams was always a solo activity in the Slytherin house - every smart person for and to themselves. So, now that he thought of this, he never has spent time just casually researching a deadly and rare sickness in someone else's company. Draco was about to say something nice about it, when Hermione read a piece of poetic yet completely useless information mentioning the disease.
- Are you sure you're not accidentally reading the fantasy book that snuck here with the other? - he tried to joke lightly, but his heart wasn't in it. Malfoy could tell that even hours of reading old dusty books were starting to lose its appeal to Granger. And rightfully so, it was her body that was disappearing one small piece at a time.  - Hey, listen... it's fine if we don't find anything here. I told you already, I read all of these when I was writing my paper and I didn't find anything then... - He stopped himself because by now he learnt to read Hermione's expressions and her right now was saying "say you wrote a paper one more time and watch the next thing that disappears be your perfect nose because I will punch". Maybe he exaggerated a little bit, but she didn't look like she was eager to hear about his paper. Again. - Sorry, I really didn't need to mention the paper again, did I? - He sheepishly smiled and rubbed his neck. - What I meant to say is... - he tried to choose his words more carefully this time, but Hermione came to his rescue by asking for tea. - Of course, tea! And sandwiches! Because we've been at this for a while now.
[indent] Relieved that he has earned himself some time before he needed to give another encouraging yet empty of any factual help speech, Malfoy turned around and pointed his wand at the tray, that was on the small bedside cabinet. Grilled sandwiches, two steaming cups with tea, and a small kettle appeared on it. He levitated it to the bed and landed it in Hermione's lap.
- Neat little trick, right? We adapted it from the Hogwarts kitchens actually. Two trays are linked between our kitchen and patients' rooms. This way we avoid levitating trays with food and hot tea around the halls because... well, it was getting messy and the injuries department was full enough as it is without the second-degree burns coming in. - Well, who was telling abundantly dull anecdotes about work now? He stuffed his mouth with a piece of ham and cheese panini, his personal input on the menu. - Want to see another trick? - after spending agonizing 30 seconds in silent chewing, he couldn't take it anymore and waved his wand again. Delicate silver bubbles appeared at the end of it, coming out in a gentle stream. They resembled soap bubbles, but were more durable and lasted longer. Soon the room filled with them and they glittered gently reflecting the light. - I think I may have bullied professor Flitwick into teaching me this spell. - He looked down, and let himself show remorse for once again bringing up school and what an asshole he was back then.

Отредактировано Griffin Knox (2022-08-17 04:14:14)

[indent] What years of tyranny followed by years of therapy - magical and muggle - thought him was patience. Biding your time to shine. Biding your time to escape. Biding your time to heal. Except patience required time and time was his biggest enemy right now. Trying to both find a cure for a rare disease and make amends for years of bullying and abuse in less than 12 hours before the next organ that disappeared in Granger was her lung or brain? That was a cruel joke even for Father Time. And he could try to distract her, or as she so cleverly noticed, impress her with all the silly spells and all the delicious food that yes, their very well-compensated house elves were preparing in the kitchens, but it wasn't going to slow down time, wasn't going to change anything.
- Yes, yes, they are very well paid, have health and dental benefits, mandatory holidays that they actually trade with each other because they don't know how to take holidays, and bonuses around the holidays. All of that wonderful contribution to the house elves' economy, of course, thanks to you! - he pretended to tip off his non-existant hat towards Granger. - You know, I voted on that bill? - Why did he has to say that? Why was he trying so desperately to make her see him as the new and improved Draco 2.0 he was now? - After Dobby... I guess I was trying to make up for it. - Stupid topic, need to change topic now.
[indent] While he was chewing and oversharing, he couldn't help but notice how Hermione was acting around her new disability. Trying to use her other hand, almost hiding the one with the missing fingers - she was acting brave, she was trying to power through the only way she knew how - by solving the problem, even if she was the problem, even if the problem was happening to her. And not for the first time, Malfoy wondered if anyone has even just taken care of her the way she seemed to be taking care of everything and everyone in her life.
He put his plate aside and did something that for sure was a side effect of the illness, or borderline madness, or altogether a new illness that will be named after him. He reached out and took Hermione's hands in his.
- I am trying to impress you. - It's like someone poured veritaserum in his tea and now all of this cheesy truth was pouring out of him. - I am also trying to keep you content and distracted. And no, as far as my research paper went, excess emotions is not one of the symptoms, but it is a symptom of over-exhaustion and burnout. And you may feel the need to hit me after what I say, - he squeezed her hands a bit tighter as if to indicate, that he won't let her. - But I could easily diagnose you with those. And while finding a cure for this, - he squeezed her left hand again. - Is my top priority, I also think that we can't ignore the causation of the whole situation. You work too much, Hermione. You are spread too thin and no one is looking out for you. - He was reaching, she was definitely going to punch him, but he couldn't stop now. - I'm not saying that because I'm trying to pry or hurt you. I just want to make sure that when we find the cure, and we will find it, you won't go back to the same lifestyle that lead you here in the first place. - Now he was sounding like a wellness nurse, preaching change of diet or exercise. - All I mean to say is... maybe this wasn't an accident? Maybe you were meant to end up in my hospital wing, asking about my paper, looking at my silly bubbles. - He looked around the room, mainly to avoid her gaze because things were starting to get intense and he was the main reason why. - Maybe you should think of taking a vacation after this. Where would you like to visit?
[indent] And all of that to soothe her, to distract her, to make her feel anything else but the existential dread of the looming disaster that was her disease. Because he had no clue whatsoever how to cure it and he was absolutely certain that if he removed his right shoe, he will find out that he's missing his big toe.

Отредактировано Griffin Knox (2022-11-06 22:06:51)