𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞. No different than the sickening feeling of anticipation at the sight of the revolving roulette almost coming to an end or the tingling sensation of doubt when faced with the final choice in wizard poker. The man was beyond certain that misfortune would always find a way to strike him long before he had the chance to think of victory.
Tired and exhausted from the patient he had the displeasure of overseeing, he puffed out the air wedged in his lungs, heading to the comfort of his office. Once there, Draco threw the clipboard and files he held on the desk, wasting no time slumping in his chair. He craned his neck, attempting to relieve some of the pain while his fingers swiftly moved to untie the fabric of his tie.
Just when he took a deep breath, ready to relax, he grumbled in displeasure at the sound of someone knocking on his door. Draco rubbed his tired eyes with his palms, looking up at the white lights illuminating his office. “This better be good,” he whispered to himself before calling in whoever was behind the mahogany door.
The door creaked as the person behind it pushed it open, causing Draco to make a mental note to fix the bloody sound before it drove him mental. A Healer peeped her head inside, a crooked smile governing her lips. “Hey, grumpy dwarf. What’s got you all worked up?”
Draco shook his head with an amused smirk, the tension he harbored slowly evaporating. “Y/N,” he greeted the witch, his stormy eyes following her every step once she closed the door behind her and strolled inside. “Kindly never compare me to a dwarf ever again. We both know that you tick every box when it comes to that description.”
Y/N feigned hurt, placing a hand on her heart. “Oi, you’re mean! But then again, you do make a more fitting Snow White.”
“I have no idea who that is.” Draco laughed at her remark without taking his eyes off her. He watched her gracefully sit on his desk, frivolity nestling comfortably in her big doe eyes.
“It doesn’t matter as long as I know what that is,” Y/N teased. She kicked her legs in the air, her eyes skimming over the mess of papers and files on Draco’s desk. With curiousness in her gaze, she reached out for the file closest to her. “Harry Potter? Three broken ribs, flail chest, concussion, fractured hip, and–”
“Acromioclavicular joint sprain, yes,” Draco continued.
Y/N’s brows knitted as she read over the patient file. “Must have been one bloody fight. Literally.”
Draco chuckled in response. He took the file from her hands, reaching for his quill. “It wasn’t exactly a walk in the park admitting Auror Potter here.” He dipped the quill in the onyx ink bottle, beginning to add his own notes on the papers.
Y/N eyes wandered to Draco, studying his figure. She crossed her hands over her chest, peering at him. “Is that what’s got your knickers in a twist? That he’s here, and you had to treat him?”
Draco didn’t spare Y/N a look, but from the way he had stopped writing, she figured he must’ve rolled his eyes. “No. Treating him was far easier than expected. It was having to listen to the whines of the Weaslette and Granger, among other things. That was the most irritating part of it all.”
Y/N leaned back to get a better look at Draco. She shook her head at his statement, drumming her fingers on the table. “Aren’t you a tad bit exaggerating, perhaps?”
“On the contrary. As if seeing Potter wasn’t dreadful enough, it was exceptionally irksome having to be in the presence of the other two witches.”
“Well, Hermione is his best friend,” Y/N argued, trying to reason with the blond. “And wasn’t Ginny his fiancee? Or did he not propose yet?”
“In case you’ve missed it, darling. I’m a Healer, not an editor at Witch Weekly or The Daily Prophet,” Draco cynically replied, waving his quill in the girl’s face.
Y/N huffed at his response. She took out a pile of papers, spewed lazily on his desk, and hit him with it on the head. Draco winced, shooting daggers at Y/N. “You’re a pompous arse.”
“Is there a reason for you being in my office other than to continuously insult me?”
“Yes,” Y/N replied with a smirk. “To grace you with my presence.”
Draco blinked, attempting to hide the glint of amusement swirling in his irises. “How charming,” he told Y/N, continuing to fill Harry’s file.
Y/N kept her focus on Draco, watching as his fingers moved around, gracefully guiding the feather on top of the parchment. Mesmerized by the sight, and falling to the realization that she had been silent for too long, she loudly cleared her throat. “Why are you bothered so much? Did they say something bad? Please don’t tell me they refused to have you as Harry’s Healer because of it.”
“No,” Draco rushed to say, sensing the worry in Y/N’s tone and feeling a slight itch on his left forearm. “No, darling. They never said anything about that. It was just hard to concentrate with them breathing down my neck.”
Y/N half-laughed, her shoulders looking less rigid. She played with the papers on the desk, her eyes narrowing at the Healer in front of her. “Come on, Draco. Plenty of people have done that too when their loved ones were in our care.”
“Well, then. Perhaps people need to learn to control their emotions in times of distress.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Not everyone is an established Occlumens like yourself. I may be a Healer, but I know I’d lose my composure if someone I cared about entered the doors of St. Mungo’s all bloodied and bruised.”
Draco rolled his eyes indignantly. He didn’t have enough energy to argue with Y/N, and knowing her, she would be about ready to argue all night. For two days straight if she had a drop of coffee in her system. So, Draco decided that it would be best to change the subject.
“So.” He cleared his throat, taking his eyes off the files. “Care to tell me about how your day went? Hopefully, it was better than mine.”
Y/N’s facial expressions changed, the light that was once in her eyes dimming. It was then Draco noticed the black circles beneath her eyes and the tiredness that lingered on her face.
“It… was okay, I guess. I just have a night shift today, which I’m not looking forward to.”
“Right,” Draco hummed as he remembered. “My offer still stands, you know? I’d be more than happy to take your place.”
Y/N bit on her lower lip, her gaze flickering straight to Draco’s. He watched her carefully, his own silver orbs glued to her teeth as she chewed on her lip to contain a laugh. But eventually, Y/N had failed miserably and ended up clutching her stomach, chuckling aloud.
That woman is unbelievable. Draco mentally thought, watching as tears streamed down Y/N’s cheeks from the sincerity of her laughter.
“You got roped into another dinner with a potential wife, didn’t you?”
“No,” Draco scoffed incredulously, running away from Y/N’s burning gaze. He looked at his left, which was perhaps a wrong move because he caught Y/N’s eyes in the mirror. “Yes. Now, stop looking at me like that!”
“Like what?” Y/N feigned innocence, her lips contorting into a bashful smile.
“Like you’re trying to get into my head.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t do that. I’m not a Legilemens.”
You don’t need to be one, Draco mentally fired back, but he never dared to say it aloud. “The point is, you look like you could use a break while I could use an excuse. So, why don’t you let me handle your shift?”
“Because you’re going to have to admit to your parents that you’re above all this, Draco,” Y/N explained, seemingly more serious than she ever was before. “And if not tonight, then when?”
Draco groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not easy, and you know that.”
“Yes, fairly well, too. I may not be a pureblood, but my parents are as strict as muggles come.”
“At least yours don’t have a list of suitors as party guests,” Draco said, cringing at the thought of the many women he had met and had yet to meet as per his parents’ demands.
Y/N merely rolled her eyes as a response to his behavior. And knowing her, she was starting to get annoyed. “Need I remind you that the last time I spoke with them, they had attempted to set me up with some ostentatious muggle prick of their choosing?” Y/N spat, a flicker of pain outlining her irises. “I don’t exactly live up to the Y/L/N name with me being a witch and all.”
Draco closed his eyes as he let out a breath. How stupid of him to forget such a massive detail. He moved out of his chair and towered over Y/N, his stormy silver eyes roaming her figure. Draco’s hands cupped her cheeks, and before he knew it, he was kissing the crease that formed between her brows.
“I’m sorry, darling. It’s not you that doesn’t live up to that last name. It’s that last name that doesn’t do you justice.”
Y/N’s mouth twitched, Draco’s words tugging at her heartstrings. She blinked, looking down at her feet as she attempted to hide the pink tint that formed on her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered meekly, looking up at Draco from underneath her lashes.
Draco’s hands lingered on Y/N’s rosy cheeks for a moment, losing themselves in the softness and warmth of her skin. Eventually, his hands fell back to their place.
“You sure you don’t want me to fill in for you?” Draco asked. “Even if it’s just for a bit? It looks like you could use some sleep.”
Y/N pursed her lips in thought, beginning to fiddle with the fabric of her green coat. “As enticing as this sounds, I’ll pass. I’ll just take a power nap and get back to work then.”
“Fine. If you insist.”
Draco left Y/N sitting on his desk and moved to the other side of the room. He rummaged through one of his cabinets, and judging by the fact that he spent a good minute or so searching for whatever it was he was looking for, Y/N figured he had placed an Extension Charm on it.
“What are you looking for?” she wondered aloud, curiously trying to see what it was that Draco was looking for.
A beat passed before Draco pulled out what appeared to be a white blanket from the drawer. He moved with steady steps toward his couch on the left side of the room, dropping the blanket. He quirked an eyebrow, gesturing to the couch. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
Y/N’s eyes sparkled. She hopped down from the desk, making her way to the makeshift bed with a lopsided smile, her eyes fixed on silver hues that were as magnetizing as the night sky. “Forget Snow White.” She took off her shoes and nestled herself comfortably on the couch as Draco draped the blanket over her body. “You’re my own fairy godmother.”
“I have no idea what that is either,” Draco replied. His fingers twitched as he got the urge to brush the hair out of Y/N’s face. But before he got the chance to do it, she moved her hand to her face and placed the stray strands behind her ears.
Y/N closed her eyes, tugging the blanket higher. “That’s your loss.”
Draco looked away, his eyes alight with mirth–a sight that only Y/N could paint with her simple presence. He took his wand from the pocket of his coat, waving it around to turn the lights off. “Don’t sleep too much.” Draco placed a gentle kiss on Y/N’s forehead, admiring the way her long lashes lifted to expose her crystalline eyes. “I’ll send you a Patronus to make sure you wake up.”
“Enjoy dinner, Draco,” Y/N called, closing her eyes and surrendering to a much-needed sleep.
Draco stood by the doorframe, watching her drift to sleep. “Sweet dreams, darling.” He gently closed the door and walked down to the hospital’s apparition point, looking forward to get this pathetic dinner over and done with so that he could laugh about it the next day with Y/N.
⸻ ✧ ⸻
To say that dinner was a complete catastrophe would be an understatement. It was an utter debacle. Draco’s parents didn’t settle for setting him up with a potential pureblooded wife. They went as far as attempting to sever relationships to secure him one.
Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy desperately tried to match him with his Hogwarts classmate and friend Daphne Greengrass. However, their perpetual attempts at laying the red carpet for Daphne and creating utopian scenarios were proven futile when Draco disclosed that his potential wife was already involved in a relationship.
And when his parents found out that she was dating a halfblood, they tried to convince Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass to consider a betrothal between the two families to strengthen ties and remain within the bounds of the sacred twenty-eight.
When the Greengrasses refused to entertain this notion, Draco was sure that whatever his parents were planning next was going to be disastrous. He had already rejected the idea of courting his best friend Pansy Parkinson. At this rate, the next candidate was either going to be Millicent Bulstrode or his parents were going to wait for the birth of Avery’s daughter to wed her to Draco when she becomes of age.
It was seven in the evening when Draco opened the door to his office, sauntering in with a steamy cup of coffee in his hand. His eyes couldn’t help but travel to the couch, finding the blanket that Y/N was covered with neatly folded.
He smiled, an image of Y/N’s sleeping figure popping into his head. He decided to leave the blanket, knowing that she was most likely going to need a nap sometime during the day, considering she was spending hours on end at the hospital.
A knock echoed in Draco’s ears, causing him to slightly wince. Whoever was assaulting the door, he was sure wasn’t Y/N. “Yes?” he sighed, leaning back against the chair and placing his hands on the armrests. His door creaked open as another Healer walked in.
“Healer Malfoy,” his colleague, Healer Abbott, greeted. She walked further inside the office with papers in her hand.
“Abbott,” Draco nodded, eyeing the papers. “What’s that you got?”
“A couple of papers that need your signature. They’re discharge orders for Auror Potter.”
Draco’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “He was just admitted yesterday.”
Healer Abbot pursed her lips, extending the papers. “I’m well aware. Except that he says he doesn’t require our services anymore.”
That bloody wanker. “Believe me, Abbott. I want him out of this establishment far more than he does,” Draco admitted. He pushed back the papers that the Healer brought, looking for Harry’s file. “But even ‘The Chosen One’ doesn’t have the healing abilities of a bloody phoenix. I’m going to need someone to check on him, preferably Y/N if she’s here or coming in later.”
Healer Abbott shook her head. “Healer Y/L/N is not coming in today.”
“Why?” Draco asked, not recalling Y/N having told him that she’s taking the day off.
“She had a particularly long shift yesterday. From what I heard, Head Healer Malachai told her to get some rest today.”
“Fine,” Draco sighed, handing Healer Abbott Harry’s file. “He’s your responsibility until I get back. Don’t let him out of your sight.”
⸻ ✧ ⸻
“For the last time, Mrs. Hoffman. I’m not interested in courting your granddaughter.”
“Well, it’s a shame to hear you say that, dearie,” the old woman said. She looked up at the young Healer, her brown eyes shifting color when touched by light. “Such a handsome young man like yourself deserves a charming young witch by their side.”
“Perhaps, but not as young as your granddaughter,” Draco replied. He let his focus back on the clipboard he was holding onto, jutting down notes based on the diagnostic charm he casted on Mrs. Hoffman a few minutes ago.
“She’ll be of age in just a few months' time.”
Draco quirked an eyebrow, his squill scratching against the parchment. “And when will that be exactly?”
Mrs. Hoffman’s eyebrows knitted in focus. She tapped her index finger against her chin, trying to remember the exact date of her granddaughter’s birthday. Draco waited patiently for her to answer, holding his breath as he counted down the seconds. “I have no clue.”
“Do you at least remember her name?”
Mrs. Hoffman looked confused. “Who’s name, dearie?”
Draco sighed, marking down the new information on his clipboard. While the witch didn’t seem to be making too much progress, her state was much better than Lockhart’s. Draco winced as he remembered that buffoon, thankful that he was someone else’s responsibility and not his. The last time the Head Healer assigned him Lockhart, the man tried to convince him to frame one of his autographed headshots. The man might’ve been dealing with permanent memory loss, but even a charm as strong as Obliviate never managed to wipe out his narcissism or his putrid attitude.
Draco bid his goodbyes to Mrs. Hoffman, promising to check on her again tomorrow. He closed the door behind him, strolling down the corridor to check on his other patients. As soon as he exited the Fayette Barlowe Ward, he found himself almost tackled to the ground by one of his colleagues.
“Abbott, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?” Draco snarled, holding Healer Abbot by the elbows.
The Healer stepped back, trying to catch her breath. “Malfoy,” she exhaled, placing one hand on her heart. “I’ve been searching the entirety of St. Mungo’s for you!”
Draco looked her up and down, his nose scrunching. “What do you want that’s so urgent?”
“We need you for an emergency surgery.”
“And why exactly is that? The last time I checked, this institution is overflooding with Healers, so why is it that you need me in particular?” Draco watched as Healer Abbot shifted uncomfortably in place. Her eyes darted from side to side, trying their best to avoid being caught by Draco’s silver hues. “Don’t tell me it’s bloody Potter again. I swear if–”
“It’s Healer Y/L/N,” the woman blurted, looking remorseful. “She’s in a critical state and needs immediate medical attention.”
The world tilted on its axis without prior warning, causing a sudden static noise to echo in Draco’s ears. The Healer paled, stricken by fear as he watched with dazed and frantic eyes the woman in front of him. “Y/N?” he whispered. Without waiting for an answer, Draco made a mad dash toward the Operations Ward, pushing and screaming at anyone who stood in the way. With a shaky breath and unsteady heartbeats, he pushed the doors of the ward open. “Where the bloody hell is Healer Y/L/N?”
“In here, Healer Malfoy,” one of the junior Healers called.
Draco threw his clipboard and quill aside, urgently moving to assess Y/N. “Preliminary diagnostic results?” he asked, his eyes skimming over her frail figure.
Y/N’s skin was ashen, even paler than his own. A trail of blood hugged the side of her forehead, oozing from a large gash that taunted Draco. Her long lashes met together, keeping her eyes away from sight. The veins on her eyelids ice blue like frozen constellations engraved on her skin. Her chest barely rose and fell, her figure appearing almost dead.
Draco hurried to press his fingers against the side of her neck, next to her Adam’s apple, checking with unsteady fingers for any sign of a pulse. He searched for a good couple of seconds, holding his own breath to make sure his thundering hope wouldn’t be deceiving him.
“Concussion, Bradycardia, Pneumonitis.”
“Fuck,” Draco breathed as he hurried to place the pulse oximeter on Y/N’s finger. His eyes hurried to check the value, his heart falling to the pit of his stomach when it showed 88%. “Hypoxemia.”
“Healer Malfoy,” Healer Bones said, her eyes switching between Y/N and Draco. “What’s the best course of action to take now?”
Draco gulped. He swayed on his feet, his hands rushing to grab the bars around Y/N’s bed. Blood rushed to his head, invading all his senses. A tumultuous surge of fear and trepidation froze him in place.
The sight of Y/N’s lips turning blue with every beep from the ECG monitor caused him to lose his mind. A hot and scorching sensation shot through his whole body, rendering him unable to do anything but internally scream.
He attempted to occlude all those thoughts of Y/N being covered by a white cloth and taken away from him, but no matter how much he tried to compartmentalize, he found himself failing miserably.
Healer Bones leaned over Y/N’s frail body, slightly obscuring her from sight. “Healer Malfoy?” she asked, loud and clear. Concern was evident in her eyes along with a look of distress.
Suddenly, Y/N’s voice rang in Draco’s ears. ‘I may be a Healer, but I know I’d lose my composure if someone I cared about entered the doors of St. Mungo’s all bloodied and bruised.’
His fear almost caused him to rush out the doors of the Operations Ward and request for another Healer to come and heal Y/N before it was too bloody late. But a part of him couldn’t let her out of his sight. When the ECG monitor beeped continuously, indicating that Y/N’s already scarce heartbeat was coming to a stop, something snapped in Draco.
“Bones, administer muggle CPR to Y/N at once. Elliot, clear her airways, Abbott, do something about that concussion, and leave the rest to me.” Draco took out his wand, pointing it at Y/N’s chest, watching with a sweaty forehead the ECG monitor while everyone began to tackle their assigned tasks. “You’re not dying on me, darling. Or else you’ll be giving me a reason to commit the crime I was once too bloody petrified to go through.”
⸻ ✧ ⸻
Y/N’s eyelids felt heavy as if something was weighing them down. Her chest constricted, pain surging through her veins all the way to her heart when she breathed too hard. The darkness behind her eyelids was too much to bear. The possibility of never opening her eyes again caused her to fight for the light she wished to feel.
Her fingers twitched, involuntarily at first. But as soon as she felt someone’s soft fingers curled around hers, she fought the feeling of numbness that immobilized her. With great effort, she moved her fingers once more. She could feel the chill that sparked through her body, recognizing the familiar metal of a ring against her skin. “Draco,” she whispered. Thee hand that held hers intertwined their fingers together.
“Y/N, darling.” A voice said, sounding hoarse. “Open your eyes for me.”
She followed after the voice like a lovesick teenage girl following after her crush. Y/N clung to the softness of that voice, its mellifluous sound carrying itself in her ears. She suddenly found herself opening her eyes to the world, infinite possibilities unveiling before her as though she was just reborn.
Clearing her throat, she craned her neck to the side, finding her favorite pair of silver eyes already staring at her. “Hey, dragon.” Y/N smiled, losing herself in the feeling of ecstasy that governed her senses when a laugh escaped his lips. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“You are unbelievable, witch. You almost die, and that’s the first thing that comes out of your mouth when you wake up?” Draco asked, absentmindedly tracing stars on Y/N’s skin.
“I missed you. Is that better?”
“Much better,” Draco grinned, gazing at the witch who inhabited his mind. He moved his hand to touch her cheek, letting his fingers trail across her slightly heated skin. Y/N closed her eyes, humming in contentment at the magic that coursed through her blood due to Draco’s touch. “I love you.”
Y/N eyes shot open, afraid that she was diving too deep into the feeling to find the shore. But when she laid her alert eyes on Draco, she found him smiling at her with nothing but sheer adoration in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I think I misheard you.”
“No, you didn’t,” he replied swiftly, keeping a tight hold on her hand. His heartbeats thundered in his chest as love rippled in his very core. “I love you. Not as a friend, not as a sister. As the one person that made my world crash and burn when they wheeled her into the bloody Operations Ward.”
“Draco, where’s all that coming from?” Y/N said, her other hand reaching to cradle her bandaged head, attempting to fight the dizziness that threatened to rip her away from this moment.
Draco looked her in the eye, feeling his knees weaken at the sight of the universe that unveiled before his own silver orbs. “When I heard that you were caught in that bloody attack, and when I saw you lifeless on that bed, Y/N, I almost died.”
“You… you what?”
“I almost died,” he admitted. “Out of fear, despair, anger. Out of every dark emotion out there. Because… because you’re the reason I’m so alive, Y/N. You are, and always have been, the one person that makes me forgo of every bit of control I foolishly assume I hold when in your presence.”
“Draco,” Y/N breathed, a single tear falling from the edge of her lashes. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes. I’ve never meant anything more than this.”
Y/N smiled, her tears welling up with more tears. She reached for Draco’s face, cradling his cheeks. “I love you too, Draco Malfoy. With every beat of my heart.”
Draco captured Y/N’s lips in his, melting against the sweetness of her blazing touch. He smiled, capturing her bottom lip and nibbling slightly on it, feeling the whole world fall into place. Maybe fate wasn’t such a pain in the ass; maybe it was even appealing. Because Y/N’s kisses made him believe in fate–in a world where everything was right, and all the stars were aligned just for them.