Hello! As some of you know I have been working on a Bellatrix origins story for Camp Nano called The Fall. I am going to start editing it this week. While I put that story down, this one came to me. I hope that you enjoy it! The second part should be out later this week :).

Occupational Hazard
by somekindofwildgirl

Part 1

She is seventeen again and fighting for her life. They are forced to withdraw from the grounds by the Death Eaters, the Order falling back to the castle in the hopes of regrouping, to change the tide of the battle.

They are losing.

She lost her friends minutes ago, hours, it is hard to tell time in the smoke covered sky. The battle wrecked havoc on the castle, forces her to backtrack and dodge stray spells that fly her way. Several times she drops to the ground when a Death Eater catches sight of her and she throws stunner after stunner until she is certain it is safe to advance. Green spells shoot past her left and right, death one step away. She rubs the sweat out of her eyes, forces her exhausted body to continue. She needs to find Harry, knows he will do something stupid if she doesn't. Ron should be with him and she hates that she is separated from them, knows that they are stronger together than apart.

A scream of terror. The stone wall explodes behind her, the force propelling her forward, chunks of debris hitting her. Ears ringing, she shakily stands up. A quick look behind her and she knows that there are no other survivors. She pushes on. The scream echoes in her head - feminine and high pitch - and it plays in her head over and over again like one of those catchy muggle songs.

She needs to find Harry.

Incessant tapping at her window woke her up. Tempted to ignore it, the pecking grew louder and faster until she dragged herself out of bed to let that goddamn owl in. Half asleep and on edge from her latest nightmare, Hermione Granger grabbed the roll of parchment and sent the owl on its way. She carefully opened the seal and read the letter. It took her several minutes and rereads to make sure she was not still asleep before she let out an uncharacteristic squeal and ran into the living room.

Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley sprung apart, half naked and cheeks red.

"Merlin, can't you wait until I leave? Or go into your bedroom like normal people?" Hermione asked, covering her eyes.

A few curses and ruffles of clothing later, she uncovered her eyes and groaned when she was still faced with a bare chested Ginny. Her two friends were a contradiction: Harry couldn't meet her eye, while the redhead made no move to cover herself. The two had been on and off since the War and were currently on again.

"Stop being such a prude," Ginny said as she walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and returned to sit beside Harry. "What was that screeching about anyways? Nearly gave me a heart attack."

Hermione ignored her comment; her previous excitement had disappeared. "I got the job."

"Congratulations! I'm so proud of you," Harry said.

"Thanks. I start orientation on Monday. I still can't believe this is real. Part of me is expecting this to all be a dream. My life is finally about to begin!"

"I feel bad for Ron. You're moving on with your life while he's fighting a war. Hardly seems fair," Ginny said with an eye roll.

"Ron and I are on a break, not that it's any of your business. What am I supposed to do? Sit at home and wait for him to return? He's been gone for four years, Gin," she said standing up. "I didn't force him to go fight in another war, an American one at that. I have a right to live my life. Thanks for the support. It really means a lot."

Hermione stormed out of the apartment before she said something she would regret. She had only seen Ron twice in the past four years and only for twenty four hours at a time. Part of her wondered if she waited for him because she truly loved him or because it was safe. Pushing that thought out of her mind, she went to tell her parents about her new job.

Letter clenched in her hand, Hermione tried to navigate her way through the sea of people in the hallway. It was her first day of orientation, she was nervous and the people shoving past her didn't help. The presentation was to start in ten minutes and she refused to admit that she couldn't find her way.

"Lost, Granger?"

She tensed. That familiar, low drawl could only belong to one person, someone she hoped to never see again. Hermione turned around slowly.

"Malfoy, it has been a long time. I would love to chat, but I am running late," she said, her fingers clenching the strap of her bag so hard they were turning white.

He flashed his perfect white teeth. "You are precisely on time. The room is right behind you."

"No, I just checked," Hermione said, turning around and seeing a door appear. Realization dawned on her. "Please tell me that you are here visiting someone."

"What would the press say if they heard you say such a thing? That is not the proper way to greet a coworker. I will see you inside," Malfoy laughed before disappearing inside.

Dread filled her as she followed her childhood nemesis. The tables were separated into the different disciplines and most of the seats were already filled. She was relieved to see him sit down at the Magical Bugs and Diseases table. They would not be working together that closely after all.

The banquet table was overflowing with food, the smell of fresh bread making her stomach growl. A peek at her watch told her that she didn't have time to grab breakfast and instead, began searching for her assigned seat. She was seated next to a tall, dark skinned girl.

"Hi, my name is Victoria Munn," she said extending her hand.

She grabbed the offered hand and gave it a firm shake. "Hermione Granger. It is a pleasure to meet you."

The Chief Healer stood on the podium and once he had everyone's attention, began telling them about St. Mungo's history. She felt that familiar thrill of excitement and belonging to be in such a grand place of learning.

All thoughts of having a glamorous job were corrected on her first day. The new staff had a different rotation in each area of the hospital to better understand the process at St. Mungo's. Her first assignment was triage - a section on the main floor that reminded her of an emergency room - and it was always overcrowded. Each medical discipline had a certain number of rooms, where the decision was made to send the patient home with treatment or send them upstairs.

This was her third week in triage and she kept repeating only one more week over and over again. Her current case was taking longer than expected and she knew that the next patient she had to see had been waiting three hours.

"Just to be clear, I am going to go through this one last time. You were gardening naked."

A witch in her sixties was lying facedown on the examination table. She was perfectly healthy except for this current admission. Hermione could see a peek of bright colors where the patient's clothing was placed and she was struck with how easy it was for a patient to loser her identity as soon as she put on a patient gown. For all intents and purposes, they became case numbers.

"Yes."

Hermione struggled to maintain a neutral expression. "You were trying out a new gardening spell that you read. Do you remember which book this was in?"

"I can't remember. One of those dusty green books that I found in the attic. You would not believe the junk I found in there!" the patient rambled. "The spell was supposed to pick ripe vegetables for me. My grandson just moved to Ireland and I have no one to help me."

"And now the cucumber is stuck?"

The patient blushed and nodded. Hermione finished scribbling her notes and set down the folder. Washing her hands and putting on the gloves right next to the sink, she walked back to the patient. The Medi-Witch had warned her about what she was about to see, but nothing prepared her for it when she did lift the gown and assed her patient's buttocks.

"Why is the cucumber peeled?"

The witch's voice was partially muffled. "Must have been the spell."

Glad the patient could not see the sceptical look on her face, Hermione performed several diagnostic spells to see why the cucumber could not be removed. She recognized the spell immediately and it was not from a gardening book. The patient had mispronounced a word, which led to the permanent sticking charm. Once she figured it out, it was easy to remove the foreign object from her patient.

After scrubbing her hands clean, Hermione returned to the desk with the open file and wrote down her treatment notes. Once she was finished, she clasped her hands and looked at her patient who was now sitting on the examination table. "I would recommend further gardening should be done clothed and to research spells a little more thoroughly before using them."

Hermione went over more education with the witch and made plans to coordinate additional help with chores. Once she was finished, she grabbed the folder, left the room, and stuffed it in the slot next to the door. She had to pee, was starving, but knew that the faster she went through her patients, the sooner she could go home. She turned when she heard a door open and close, but rolled her eyes when she saw that it was Malfoy. He still looked perfect despite the long shift as he strutted into the next patient's room. It was bad luck that he had been placed in triage at the same time as her. But if he could succeed, so could she. Ignoring the slight tremor in her left hand, she went to see her next case.

The past few months were exhausting. She had been placed in every section of the hospital, done every test imaginable, and been yelled at by Healers, patients, and families. It was enough to drive her insane. She understood that she was lower on the totem pole, but she didn't know how much longer she could take it. Hermione gave everything every day and was reaching her breaking point. Was she really making a difference? No one seemed to be going through this, Victoria and other Healers had quit at this point.

Things at home weren't much better. Her relationship with Ginny was tense, becoming roommates destroying the close friendship they had shared. Hermione had warned the redhead that once she graduated from the Healing Academy, her life would revolve around shift work. Ginny had assured her that she understood, but Hermione knew that she had moved in on an impulse. The brunette's indifference over Ron's absence also did not help matters. Their apartment was filled with tense silences and slamming doors.

Hermione was on her night shift rotation. She had been up for ten hours and prayed the next two hours would fly by so she could get reacquainted with her comfortable, plush bed. She took a seat at a table in their staff room and within minutes, started falling asleep on top of her folders.

Her wand vibrated and with blurry eyes, reached for the glowing parchment.

This was her one pet peeve. In the muggle world, they used pagers and phones to communicate. The wizarding world was still behind on the times. Her wand was linked to a sheet of parchment. When the Medi-Witches had a concern, they would write on the parchment. This would cause her wand to vibrate. Each entry would disappear after being read. It was barbaric.

Medi-Witch Carter: Mr. Wilson is breathing rapidly and is quite a bit of pain. I was wondering if you could change his pain potions?

Healer Granger: Is he feeling short of breath?

Medi-Witch Carter: No.

Healer Granger: Change the frequency of pain potions to every three hours and give him a one time vial of potion #5032. Keep a close eye on him and let me know of any progress or changes in one hour.

Medi-Witch Carter: Understood.

She was about to return to her nap when she was interrupted.

"You are missing something," Malfoy said once he finished reading over her shoulder.

Hermione turned around, not in the mood to deal with him today. "Excuse me, but this is my patient. I know what I am doing."

"That pride is going to get someone killed."

He walked away and took a seat at the next table over. Hermione watched him as he set his files in a neat pile on his right and his charmed parchment on the left. He scribbled something on it - probably ordering his Medi-Witches to get him a sandwich - before opening his first file.

The profession was taking a toll on him too. His usually well groomed hair was falling into his eyes - in desperate need of getting cut, she was half-tempted to do it herself - and he looked just as pale as the rest of them. It gave her pleasure to see him so undone, so human.

"That's rich coming from you," she said.

Malfoy continued writing his notes. "Is this the speech where you tell me I'm a spoiled, rich, good for nothing person who didn't deserve to survive the war? I've heard it enough, spare me."

His parchment glowed before she could reply. He quickly scanned it before jumping up, almost knocking his chair down. His sense of urgency frightened her, prompting her to stand up as well. "What's going on?"

"I am about to save your patient," he said as he rushed out of the room.

She followed him as he burst into the stairwell and thoughts of what she could of missed and how arrogant Malfoy was running through her head. He jumped down the stairs until he reached the Spell Damage floor. They raced down the hallway until they reached Mr. Wilson's room.

"I need three vials of insulin STAT," Malfoy said and immediately took them from the confused Medi-Witch.

Before Hermione could say anything, the patient received the insulin. They assessed the patient together; making sure that the insulin didn't drop his blood sugar too much. She knew what insulin could do and how it worked in the body, but what was his specific reason for giving it? Like he read her mind, he gave her the parchment that contained Mr. Wilson's test results.

Extremely high potassium among other things.

Medi-Witch Carter was asking her what she wanted done next, but it was like her ears were underwater and everything was muffled. They were all staring at her, waiting for her to do or say something, anything, but she couldn't breathe, couldn't think, so she did the thing they tell you never to do at the Healer Academy.

She ran away.

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