The Bandage
The St. Mungo’s held a workshop to educate people about first aid for magical accident. Story volunteered to assist participants with the demo. There were three sessions because the workshop unexpectedly held a great amount of interest. The first and second session had gone pretty well.
“Everyone!” A timid receptionist suddenly barged into the workshop area. “The shareholder is here!”
Iris, the head of the operation and also a certified healer, frowned. “Who? The hospital has three shareholders here.”
“Mr. Malfoy! The one who sponsored the workshop!”
At the mention of the name, Story lifted her head up. She was preparing some bandages and medical potions for the next session with another volunteer.
“The participants are also arriving,” the receptionist reported. “They’re at the registration table.”
Story and the other volunteers began to greet the participants and guide them to their seat. Her eyes widened when she saw Draco Malfoy being welcomed by Iris. Then, Draco Malfoy sat by himself on the side of the stage, observing the workshop like how Professor Snape used to observe his class.
Iris pulled Story to the side. “Can you accompany Draco Malfoy for the next one hour? Everyone else doesn’t want to do it so you’re my last hope, Story. Please say yes.”
Story glanced at the blonde pureblood nervously before nodding to Iris. “Alright. What about my work, though?”
“They’re more than happy to cover it for you.” Iris patted Story’s arm. “Thank you so much!”
Story cautiously walked towards Malfoy. She was about to call for him when he suddenly turned to her. She flinched, unconsciously took a step backward from him when his sharp gaze met hers.
His face softened when he realised who she was. “Oh, it’s you.”
She smiled nervously. “Yeah.”
To be honest, she wondered if he was still mad at her.
She pointed to the empty space beside him. “Can I sit next to you?”
“Sure,” he replied shortly.
Story dragged a chair and sat next to him.
“Before we start the workshop, our shareholder would like to say a few words,” Iris suddenly announced from the podium. “Please welcome Mr. Draco Malfoy to the stage!”
People applauded. Malfoy got up and went to the stage. With a small paper in his hand, he began to deliver his speech about the importance of knowing how to save oneself before saving the others in desperate times. He ended the speech and returned to his seat. People applauded again. Iris took over the stage again and announced that they would start the workshop by learning a spell to heal small cuts.
“I’m not mad at you.”
Never in her life had she turned her attention to a man as fast as the lightning.
“I’m not mad at you or anything so stop acting like you’re scared of me,” he demanded.
She frowned. “I-I’m not doing that.”
“Do you think I’m blind? Even my dead ancestor can see it,” he grumbled. He shook his head. “Never mind. Forget it.”
They sat in silence again. Then Story realised that both of them had nothing to do for the next one hour but watching people in the workshop.
She got up. “I’ll be right back.”
She went to the storage room and checked the supplies. Thankfully she still had some rolls of bandages and medical potions for the workshop but they were also running out of other supplies. She gathered what was left behind, pulled a table between her chair and Malfoy’s before arranging them on the table.
“What are these?” Malfoy frowned.
“Medical supplies for the workshop. I brought them for you.”
“I didn’t pay the registration fee.”
“Don’t worry. It’s on me.” She lifted a fresh roll of bandage and some potions. “This is the bandage. These are medical potions that we usually store at home. Later, we’re going to learn how to apply and consume them correctly.”
“Suppose you’re hit with a jinx or hex or curse and it creates acid wound your skin,” Iris was lecturing, “don’t panic. Hold your wand towards the wound and cast this spell with me. One, two, three!”
The participants chanted the spell together. Story saw Malfoy also muttered the spell under his breath.
“But, the more severe the acidity, the weaker the spell will be. Therefore, if the wound hasn’t gone yet or you can’t find your wand, do not panic.” Iris lifted a towel. “Find a towel or a cloth and soak it with water. Then drape the soaked towel on the reaction. Since we don’t prepare any water, we’ll just pretend we have soaked the towel in water.”
Malfoy frowned. “Pretend? What kind of workshop is this?”
“Providing water is going to be messy. Trust me,” Story chuckled. “And you don’t want your clothes to get wet.”
“We are going to drape the soaked towel over the wound like this!” Iris slowly draped the soaked towel over her forearm. “Slowly and gently!”
The other participants started mimicking Iris. Story watched Malfoy slowly draping a blue dry towel over his black sleeve jacket. She realised that she should’ve brought a darker-coloured towel. He looked like a proud Ravenclaw student.
“After you put the soaked towel on your acid wound, then you go to the hospital,” Iris instructed. “For your information, water does not neutralise the acidity. It only reduces the damage. You still need to go to the hospital and get treated immediately. Any question? Yes, mister with blue hat!”
The workshop continued with energetic Iris providing various accident cases and what to do before rushing to the hospital. Malfoy surprisingly did all of the demo like an obedient child. If Story could draw, she would have sketched an excited boy with blonde hair and twinkling grey eyes discovering wonders in medics.
A sketch that she would never get tired of.
“Bandage!” Iris lifted a roll of bandage. “I believe everyone has it right in front of you. Now, I want you to partner with someone next to you for our next demo! We are going to bandage your partner and your partner will do the same to you! I’ll give you five minutes form the group!”
Participants began to look around and talked to their neighbours. Malfoy didn’t move. He just sat in his chair and watching.
“Do you want to team up with me?” Story decided to ask.
He raised his eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Go on.”
He unrolled the bandage.
“Then, excuse me,” he muttered.
He suddenly leaned so close to her that their foreheads would bump on a small push. Her heart began to race when his left hand gently held her forearm. His hands began to work, rolling the white cloth around her forearm, bandaging her pretentious wound neatly like a certified healer would.
All without waiting for Iris’s step-by-step instruction.
She looked at him. “Have you actually done this before?”
He stopped midway. “Yes.”
“May I ask why?” She decided to press on. “I mean, did you injure your wrist?”
He silently stared at her bandaged hand as if it reminded him of something. “It’s not because of injury.”
She looked at him. “Boxing? That’s muggle’s sport, though—”
“No.”
She studied him for a moment before she asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Malfoy paused before he finally continued to bandage her hand up to her wrist and palm. “I don’t know.”
“If you want to, I’m all ears.”
“No matter how bad it sounds?”
“I’ve probably had worse.”
“Like what?”
“My grandmother always tries to marry me to any man she sees,” she decided to tell him, “just so I can get out of the house.”
Malfoy did the final wrap on her hand and pasted the bandage.
“Thankfully,” Story continued, “Mum, Dad and Daphne are always on my side. They defend me every time Grandmother tries to force my hand to a man that I don’t know.”
“Even when the man is a beggar?”
She nodded. “Even that. She’s that desperate.”
She knew exactly why.
And it always felt like a knife stabbed her heart a thousand times every time she remembered the reason the whole forced marriage started. She blinked her eyes multiple times to hold back her tears. Malfoy was the last person she wanted to show her tears.
“Greengrass?” Malfoy whispered.
“I’m sorry.” She couldn’t hold her tears anymore. “I’m so sorry. Excuse me.”
Story went to the nearest ladies’ room in the hospital. She stood behind one of the washbasins and got the water tap running. She closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths before wiping the tears off her eyes.
Maybe she should’ve kept the whole story buried like what she had been doing all these years. She didn’t what came to her she suddenly had the courage to tell it to Malfoy. Worse, in a public place where everyone could see her with tears.
When she stepped out of the ladies’ room, Malfoy was waiting in the hallway. His back was against the wall and his arms were crossed over his chest. He looked like that one Auror who was spying on her.
“Malfoy? Is the workshop over already?” Story asked.
“Someone was looking for the ladies’ room,” he answered without tearing his cool look off her. “I waited for her in case she ran into a problem.”
She tilted her head. “Where have I heard that before—"
It took a moment for her to finally figure it out. She couldn’t help giggling. “I’ll return the favour later.”
“I prefer that you don’t.” He turned to the direction they had come from. “I’ve had a traumatic experience with that.”
“Really? What happened?”
“There were some journalists trying to ask my comments about… my father going to Azkaban,” he surprisingly began to recount while they were walking back to the workshop. “They ambushed me as soon as I stepped out of the gents after the trial. Luckily, my mother was there so she helped me pushing the journalists away and got me home safely.”
She did remember his father’s name became the headline of the Daily Prophets for several days. Mum wrote that Grandmother kept talking about it all day when she and Daphne were still in Hogwarts.
Then she realised that she really didn’t know anything about the handsome and cold man before her. She only knew him to be the heir of the pureblood family. She knew that he was someone that was always there for her nowadays.
“Malfoy, if there’s something you want to talk about and you don’t have anyone to talk to, you can always confide in me,” she assured him. “I may not be the best at giving advice but I will listen to you.”
She wanted to learn more about him. She wanted to return the favour.
“Even if you can’t handle what you will hear?” He suddenly challenged her.
She clenched her fist and nodded. “Even that.”
"In return," he responded, "I hope you can do the same to me as well.”
She could see her grandmother on the other end of the hallway. She closed her eyes and counted to ten like what Iris had taught her. When she opened them, the haunting image of her grandmother was gone.
Story looked at Malfoy. “I’ll try.”