Breakfast at Natalie's

"When's Mummy coming home?" asked Cassie as Malfoy tucked her in.

"Soon," he answered, giving her a placating smile. "Sleep tight." He gave her a kiss on the forehead and backed out of the room, gently shutting the door.

In the kitchen, Natalie was working on a crossword puzzle she'd found in the newspaper.

"'A spotted wildcat.' Hmm, what would that be?"

"Leopard or cheetah," answered Malfoy automatically.

"Hey, I was going to figure it out myself," said Natalie. "I'm not dumb, you know. I just haven't ever been to a Muggle zoo."

"I never said you were dumb," said Malfoy wearily, pacing around the small space. Why did everyone have to get angry with him?

"You meant it," replied Natalie, filling in another row of squares. "And will you stop pacing? It's driving me mad."

"I can't help it," he said, taking a seat across from her. "I'm just worried."

"Well, walking around in circles isn't going to help," said Natalie reasonably. "Have you tried owling her?"

"I haven't got an owl."

"Well, what about calling her then? You can do that, right?" Natalie was still getting used to the idea of telephones.

"I've already tried," he said glumly. "She didn't answer. I didn't think she would."

"She'll come back," said Natalie optimistically. Malfoy watched as she finished the crossword and moved on to a word search.

"That's it," he said standing up suddenly.

"What's it?" asked Natalie, circling the word "candle".

"I'm going to look for her," he said, putting on his coat.

"But you don't even know where she is."

"I don't care. It's better than sitting here and not doing anything."

"For your information, I happen to be doing brain stimulating exercises here, which isn't nothing."

"I swear I'm going to find her and bring her back," he said, before stepping outside.

He went down the stairs and out into the street where it was dark and bitterly cold. The wind whipped his face, and he stuck his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. He wandered aimlessly, meandering along the streets. It was past nine o'clock, and not many people were outside. He passed a twenty-four hour convenience store and wondered where Hermione might go. Surely not back to her own apartment? No, she would never do that.

He walked past a string of bars and nightclubs. He saw two guys propping their friend up against a streetlight. They looked as if they were waiting for a cab. He could just barely make out bits of their conversation.

"Think he's going to be okay?"

"Yeah, probably."

"I don't want it to be our fault if he gets alcohol poisoning and dies. Maybe we should take him to the hospital..."

The hospital! Yes, that was it. She had gone to St. Mungo's. He was sure of it. He began walking quickly, trying to put as much distance between himself and the people as possible. When he found a deserted alleyway, he hid himself in the shadows and Disapparated. He landed right in front of the building and burst inside, skidding to a stop at the reception desk.

"How may I help you, sir?" asked the receptionist.

"I need to see Hermione Granger," he said.

"A patient?"

"No," he said hurriedly. "She's a Healer."

The receptionist flipped through her notebook. "I'm afraid there isn't a Hermione Granger listed here," she said.

"Not listed?" said Malfoy disbelievingly. "But I know she works here!"

"However," said the receptionist calmly, "there is a Hermione Whittaker in the Children's Ward."

"Yes, that's her," he said breathlessly. God, he was stupid. He'd forgotten about her married name. "Which floor is the Children's Ward on?"

"It is on the third floor," answered the receptionist, "but visitors are prohibited at this time."

"I need to see her now," he said forcefully. "This is urgent."

"I'm sorry, sir, you'll have to come back tomorrow. Our visiting hours are from nine to eleven in the morning and three to five in the afternoon. Have a pleasant evening."

Malfoy gaped at her. How could she possibly be so calm? Didn't she understand that this was an emergency?

"Aargh!" he bellowed. "Don't you understand? I need to see her! This is a matter of life and death!"

"Sir, I understand that you are very distraught right now, but I'm sure that Healer Whittaker is perfectly fine."

"But how do you know that? Did you see her come to work?"

"Indeed, sir," replied the receptionist. "I spoke with her earlier in the day."

"You--you did?"

"Yes, sir. Healer Whittaker and I are well acquainted."

"You are?" Malfoy stared at her. "Then tell me this," he demanded imperiously. "Has she left the building yet?"

"Not to my knowledge. She's signed up for the evening shift."

"So she's still in the ward? On the third floor?"

"I would assume so, sir."

They stood staring at each other for a few seconds, and then Malfoy dashed towards the elevator.

"Sir!" shouted the receptionist, standing up behind her desk. "Sir, I cannot allow--"

But it was too late. Malfoy had already gotten into the elevator, and the doors were sliding shut.

"Security! Security!"

All Malfoy could hear inside the elevator was a low humming nose. Presently, it came to a stop, and the doors slid open. He made sure to press all the buttons and then stepped out and looked around. He was just wondering which hallway to take when he spotted a directory on the wall. It told him to take a left.

He arrived in front of the colorfully decorated doors of the Children's Ward. The people inside looked up when he yanked open the doors. He stood there in the doorframe for a few seconds.

"Can I help you?" asked a matronly woman.

"I need to see Hermione," he said.

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Sir, you are disturbing our patients. Please come back during visiting hours tomorrow."

"I need to see Hermione," he repeated. A child with what looked like rabbit ears sprouting out of his head began to cry.

"Sir, I must ask you to leave immediately, or else I shall have to call security."

"What's going on?"

Hermione emerged from the back room, holding a beaker full of pink liquid. She frowned when she saw Malfoy.

"Who let him in here?"

"He just barged in," said one of the other Healers in the ward. "He says he wants to see you."

Hermione handed the beaker to one of the Healers and strode towards him.

"You can go back to work. I'll handle this," she said, addressing her coworkers. She motioned for Malfoy to follow her into the hallway. Once they were outside, she turned to face him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He flinched at the venom in her voice. "I...wanted to see you."

"Ah, but I don't want to see you." She made a move to return to the ward, but Malfoy grabbed her arm.

"Wait, Hermione." She shook herself loose from his grip and crossed her arms. "Please listen to me. You can leave when I'm done talking," he said, reminding her of the time he'd asked her to meet him in the trophy room at Hogwarts. She glared at him, but waited for him to speak. "I don't really understand why you were blaming me today, but I know you're upset, and I'm sorry for being sarcastic and yelling at you."

"Upset?" she echoed. "You think I'm upset? Congratulations, Draco, you've just made the biggest understatement of the year."

"Hermione, please just explain why you're angry. I didn't come here to argue."

"I'm angry because I don't have a place for my children to stay. I'm angry because--yes, I admit it--my husband's a git. I'm angry because my life is so damn complicated. Is that good enough for you?"

"I don't understand. You do have a place to stay. We're all moving to Natalie's house this Saturday, remember?"

"Yes," she said, "but it's not the same as having your own house with your own family--"

"There he is!"

Malfoy found himself suddenly surrounded by four burly men.

"You're coming with us," said one of the men, giving Malfoy a rough push.

"Wait a minute," said Hermione. "Where are you taking him?"

"Out," replied one of them.

"Out?" she said. "You mean...outside?"

"Where else, ma'am?"

"But why?"

"Somebody called security," He said, shrugging. "C'mon. Let's go."

"Stop!" commanded Hermione, her voice ringing with authority. "Take your hands off him. Now."

"Ma'am, our orders--"

"Do it. Now." The man let Malfoy go. "Now step away from him."

The men looked at each other uncertainly. "But we're supposed to--"

"Never mind what you're supposed to do. Just step away from him." They stared at her. Exasperated, she tried another approach: "Oh, you guys, just consider it a false alarm, okay? Nobody called security."

"A false alarm?"

"Yes, that's right," she said confidently. "You can go. And for future reference, this is my husband. You can let him up here."

Grumbling, the men lumbered away. Malfoy turned back to Hermione.

"I'm your husband, eh?" he said, smirking.

"Oh, shut up," she said, though she was smiling. "I had to say something to make them leave."

"Thanks, Hermione," he said gratefully. "I owe you one."

"How about taking me to dinner then?"

"Sure," he said. "Whenever you want."

"How about now?"

"Now?"

"I'm starving. I haven't eaten since lunch."

He waited until her shift was over, helping her put the children to bed by reading stories to them. Afterwards, they headed outside. She gave the receptionist a wink as they passed her desk.

"Are there any restaurants open this late?" she asked, as they crossed the street. She surprised him by reaching for his hand.

"The bars and clubs are open," said Malfoy, "but that's probably about it."

"I don't care, as long as they've got food."

They walked into a semi-crowded club called "Seventh Heaven" and ordered fish and chips, which seemed to be the only thing they served there, besides salad and alcoholic beverages.

"Anything to drink?" asked the waiter.

"Actually, yes," said Hermione, before Malfoy could speak. "Two screwdrivers, please."

"Screwdrivers?" said Malfoy, when the waiter had left. "Are you trying to get yourself drunk?"

"No," she answered, smiling mischievously, "I'm including you in this as well."

He scrutinized her face. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine," she said, as their drinks arrived. "Cheers."

Forty-five minutes later, Hermione had finished her food, and both of them had downed two screwdrivers apiece.

"One more and that's it," she said. "I promise."

Malfoy didn't say anything. He was feeling a little lightheaded; he hadn't realized how much alcohol they put in the drinks. After the third drink, all he could think about was how beautiful Hermione looked tonight. She had changed out of her work clothes before they left St. Mungo's, and she was now wearing jeans and a pink t-shirt.

A song with a pulsating beat began to play in the background.

"Let's dance!" said Hermione, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the dance floor where flashing multicolored lights shone upon the crowd.

They gyrated in tempo with the music, his around her waist. Then, a new song was selected, and a flood of people moved onto the dance floor. They found themselves crushed together, and then he was nuzzling her neck, his hands sliding up her back.

"Not here," she breathed into his ear, and he was pulled away from the music.

A minute later, they were strolling down the street. There was a hotel nearby, and without knowing why, he led Hermione inside.

"It's all yours," said the concierge, handing them the key. They stumbled upstairs to the room.

He unlocked the door, and Hermione collapsed onto the bed. He didn't bother to turn on the lights.

"I'm so tired," she said, taking off her shoes.

"Me too." He groped his way over to the bed and lay down beside her. She shivered. "Get under the covers," he said, lifting them up for her. She giggled and slid under.

"Mm, it's nice and toasty under here," she said, as they snuggled against each other. She propped her head up on one elbow. "Tell me a story, Draco. You were so good with the children at St. Mungo's. Tell me a bedtime story."

"Okay," he said, trying to think of a story, but the alcohol seemed to have wiped his memory blank. He had no choice but to improvise. "Once upon a time...there was a boy and a girl. They went to a school for witches and wizards called Hogwarts. One day... the boy fell in love with the girl...but she didn't love him back...so, he invited her to a tea party under a big oak tree, and he bought her presents and made her laugh. Eventually, she fell in love with him too, and they lived happily ever after. The end."

She didn't say anything, so he thought she'd fallen asleep. He called her name softly.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"I thought you were asleep."

"It was a lovely story."

He leaned over to kiss her, and he felt her wet cheeks.

"Why are you crying?"

"It was such a lovely story."

"Don't cry." He felt strangely sober as he kissed her salty tears and wrapped his arms around her. Exhaustion overtook them, and they slept soundly until morning.