The Healer II- The Patient (Draco Malfoy Fanfiction)

Chapter 18- Infection

My mind was going a mile a minute at these little snippets of information Cora was feeding me. "Possibly," I muttered.

"I'm definitely looking forward to some new work," she said, and then paused. There was a pause as Cora stood before me in my office, looking like she desperately wanted to say something. She seemed nervous.

I picked up on her sudden mood change. "Is something the matter?" I asked.

Cora winced, and her eyes darted all around my office. "Well, you see, I'm worried about the husband. I figured I should talk to you about it."

I stiffened. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure if you picked up on this while you were there, but it's pretty obvious that Mr Malfoy likes to keep to himself. And frankly I'm concerned about his mental health now that his wife's gone," Cora confessed. "And then.... There's the matter of his arm..."

"His arm?" I was growing very concerned.

"I only saw it once, when his sleeve slightly rode up," Cora explained, wringing her hands, "But he's got this... scary tattoo, like the kind they say evil wizards have. And it looks bad. I got this horrible feeling when I saw it, 'cause I knew right away it was infected. Like, skin-turning-black kind of infected. Whatever it was, it's way beyond my skill level. So I figured I ought to tell somebody, and you're the most experienced Dark Magic healer on the entire continent..."

My stomach sank. Draco's Dark Mark has become infected?

"So he's just going to let it go untreated?" I asked, appalled.

"I suppose so. I feel bad for their little boy," Cora said solemnly. "But... I suppose it's really none of my business. In fact, I was just on my way to surrender that portkey to the MACUSA office." She gestured to the small drawstring bag she held.

"Oh, I can do that," I said hastily. "I, um, I actually have an interesting file for you to take a look at, if you have the chance. It's a cruciatus victim."

Cora jumped at my proposition. "Sure thing! Man, I'll be glad to see any patient as long as it's not another blood curse. I've had enough of that for a lifetime!" She dropped the drawstring bag into my hand.

I immediately recognized the weight of the Ring of Ataraxy.

---

I thought I was going to throw up the second I arrived in that familiar white foyer. I had wasted a couple hours pacing in my office considering the pros and cons of seeing Draco again. I thought I had gotten over the urge to hurl, but that tumultuous portkey ride had unfortunately brought the feeling back.

I reached into my medicine bag and swiped a bit of anti-nausea medicine over my tongue, and the urge to throw up over the pristine marble tiles subsided.

What will he think when he sees me again, completely uninvited? I shifted worriedly in my clothes. I wasn't wearing my white Healer robes this time, as I could wear whatever I wished at the hospital now. I wore a knee-length cream colored skirt and a long wool coat over a white turtleneck, which was suitable for the chilly New York springs, but was almost too warm for the piercing sunset coming in through the tall windows in the French Chateau.

I found myself without the slightest idea as to what to do next. Should I march straight to his study? He might not even be home right now. I would be better off just calling a House Elf-

I glanced at the Ring on the foyer table. Better yet, I should take the portkey back home. Draco won't want to see me. This was a mistake-

I needn't have to worry about that at all, for in an instant, Draco was at the top of the stairs, chest heaving like he ran there.