Ginny sighed. The idea of her getting own practice just kept getting better and better. These long shifts were draining, and her feet were killing her. She'd been just about to leave, when one of the medi-witches had begged her to take one more patient. Easy patient. Just needed a check up. She knew there were no such things as easy patients. It was an oxymoron. One she'd learned time and time again.

She grabbed the chart off the door and breezed through it, her eyes flicking over the chart. Been out of the country. Basic check up. Might need some wizarding vaccinations. She nodded. "Good afternoon. I'm Ginevra Weasley, I'll be your doctor today."

"I know what you're thinking," Draco said loudly, causing her to look up. "Oh... FUCK."

He grinned. He knew how naked he looked in his paper gown. He'd never minded naked. He was fine with it. Draco was interested to see how she would be with this. Having to deal with someone you didn't really like just because you had a job where you dealt with the public couldn't be at all fun. Draco knew he sure couldn't do such a thing. Not without some renewed practice at masking his true feelings. His eyes always gave him away. Maybe only for a split second, but his Aunt Bella had always chided him on that during his Occlumency lessons with her. He always reacted. Even if it was only for a blink, he nearly always reacted. Draco also wondered if the healer had missed the green silk knickers of hers he'd pocketed from their literal run-in on the streets.

He chuckled. "We meet again, Weasley."

Ginny mentally cursed that medi-witch's big brown eyes. They'd talked her into this. She'd caved to brown eyes and a pathetic smile. She rose an eyebrow, walking farther into the room and setting the chart down on the counter, which had several clear canisters full of tongue depressors and cotton balls. "Mr. Malfoy."

She leaned back against the counter, hands crossed over her chest. Her picture in her name tag was grinning idiotically. She flipped it over. "So you think you might have some form of wizarding VD, yeah? I wasn't sure there was such a thing. What did you get up to while you were away?"

"Not as much as you might think, but Mother thought it best I get a checkup since I haven't had one in a bit."

His wand was sitting next to him. He never went far from it. He'd spent too many years looking over his shoulders, always expecting a hex to the back. It was his security blanket. Draco flicked it at her name badge, making it turn back over.

"I didn't know there was wizard VD either, but, hey, she's letting me live there after traipsing all over. I have to accommodate her or get my own place."

He could. He'd come into his rather large trust fund last year at the age of twenty-one. He'd also invested some of it wisely. Perhaps he would look for a flat of his own. That way if Sophie showed up like the crazed loony she'd turned out to be, he could deal with her alone. Then again, watching his mother tear her apart would be amusing.

She nodded, reaching up and pulling her name tag off the front of her coat. The picture gave a disgruntled look as she stuffed it into a drawer. "Well, we need to do the first things first. Mind stepping on the scale over there?"

She grabbed a pen from the counter and started filling out the date and time of the exam. Everyone else used quills, but she tended to get smudges all over the paper when she was writing in a hurry, like when she was with a patient. The fact that this patient had seen the knickers she was currently wearing made concentrating on not smudging a tad bit harder.

"I didn't know you'd become a medi-witch," Draco said conversationally. "Do you lot have to keep it so blasted chilly in here then have us all wear paper? Is that how you keep yourselves amused? Sadists."

He wondered if she was wearing any of the knickers he'd hand his hands on. Draco smirked. He tried to pretend he was not studying her lower half and trying to look through her clothes to what was under them.

"Yes, actually. We had a vote, and a few of us sadists outvoted everyone else." She looked up as he stepped on the scale. She looked down again quickly. The back of his gown was pretty open and showing quite a bit of the back of his legs. "What's the scale say?"

"I'm not going to do your job for you, Weasley."

She glared then she peered at the scale and scribbled something down.

Draco smirked. "You going to that Halloween business in Hogsmeade then? Provided you're not working."

"Not sure yet. I've never really understood Halloween. I mean, the feast at school was nice, and I can see the fun in dressing up as something you're not, but the rest of it?" She shrugged, reaching forward and putting both hands on the side of his neck. "You're glands are swollen a bit. Have you had a sore throat lately?"

"What? No. Why? Is that bad? Oh shite. I have rare wizarding VD."

Ginny made a face and pulled back. "You don't have wizarding VD. There's no such thing as wizarding VD. Not that St. Mungo's knows about, anyway. Swollen glands isn't anything bad, unless you've been having trouble swallowing." She pulled her wand from her pocket. "I'm going to need you to pull down the top of the gown. I need to hear your lungs."

Draco shrugged the top of the paper gown off his upper body. He shivered a bit as the cool air hit his chest. Apparently the paper offered more protection than he'd realized. Anyone else would have been embarrassed at the way their nipples puckered from the cold. Not him. It happened. He looked down at the mess that used to be his Dark Mark. It was all distorted and scarred. He noticed her looking at it too, so he explained.

"I tried to cut it out of my arm a few years ago when I was very drunk one night. Nearly bled to death, in fact. Not one of my brighter moments. Right up there with taking the damned thing in the first place, I think."

Ginny grabbed his forearm, bringing it closer to her face. "Where did you go to have it healed? Whoever it was did a horrible job. It's like they tried to fix it with another knife!" She shook her head. Nothing needed to scar that bad if you knew how to heal it properly. She pressed the tip of her wand against his chest, one hand on his shoulder to hold him still. His lungs sounded fine, no crackles that would indicate any form of liquid in them. She looked away when she realized she'd been staring at his chest. She'd always had a thing for chests. It was her downfall.

She pulled back and grabbed the chart, jotting down a little more information. "Have you eaten any fruit that could have been contaminated with any form of Kuuru?" At his look, she shrugged, marking down a 'no'. "Have you come into contact with any primates?" He shook his head.

She checked off the last box, after asking him a handful of more meaningless questions. He hadn't played with any porpoises, hadn't been breast feeding, and had yet to come in contact with a llama's spittle. Well, that's really all the questions I need to ask. I wonder...

She rose an eyebrow at herself, not looking up at him. "Are you sexually active?"

"Not at the moment," he said, grinning.
 
She glared at him.

"Yeah," Draco said, shrugging. "But I don't go sticking it in anyone who comes along, if that's what you're asking. I can count on one hand the number of people I have been with, and I'm a bit of a serial monogamist. I was with each of them, or knew each of them, for a long while. I think I would have noticed any oddities."

He mentally ticked them off in his head as if on a list... Blaise's mum, Mei, Pesha, Lindsay, and Sophie.

Ginny nodded, pretending to mark it down on the sheet, when in reality that hadn't been a question that needed to be asked in a general physical. Serial monogamist. Interesting. She pulled the chart to her chest, hugging it there. She willed her eyes to focus on his face. They kept wanting to dart downwards to his chest.

"Do you have any questions for me? Anything you need to talk to someone about? This is a confidential appointment, so what you say won't be repeated." She hated this part. More than one patient had asked a monotonous series of questions that had taken 2 hours to answer.

"Well, why in the hell are my glands swollen?" Draco asked, trying not to sound panicked. He hated being ill. It had never been his favorite.

"Likely from the sudden change in climate. Were you recently somewhere warm?"

"Mexico."

"Well, that would be a bit more warm than England, yes?"

Draco glared at her. She glared back at him expectantly.

He touched his scarred arm. "Can anything be done about this? I was... well, Gypsies really don't keep medi-witches on hand. Jal did the best he could. He kept me from dying.... and spot on, he did clean the wounds then sealed them with a hot knife."

Ginny shuddered. She couldn't imagine that kind of pain. She reached out and grabbed his arm again, running her fingers over the scar tissue that had formed. "The scar tissue is pretty thick. I think I could do something to smooth it out, but you'd need to come back repeatedly. One time wouldn't make it much better, but if you did it once or twice a week, it might, over time, smooth out." She sighed. If he'd been able to come to Mungo's, it would have never gotten this bad.

"It doesn't bother me," Draco said. "We've all imperfections. One of mine is just of my own making. I just wouldn't want my mother to see it. She fusses. Not that I mind being fussed over, but Narcissa Malfoy's fussing tends to involved hexing people. So I would need to work out a schedule with you? I can do that."

She had this look, and he wanted to laugh. He knew it was outrageous, him saying that so nonchalantly, but he was not the same person she'd barely known and had hexed in school. His adventures in hiding abroad had shown him quite a bit about himself and the nature of people in general. He was still as he ever was, his emotions all over the place, but a bit more careful with who he tossed his hatred and dislike at. You never knew who was going to help you, and when someone was giving you much-needed aid, it really didn't matter how pure their blood was.

Draco had an odd impulse to ask her for coffee or tea, but he curbed it. He had no desire to see that bat bogey hex again. That was a killer curse, and she had been damned good at it even back then. He could only imagine the damned thing had improved with time.

Her mind was running like mad. There were a lot of people here who would probably do much better jobs. She hadn't studied the scar tissue chapter that well, but she had the book at home. She'd have to study it before she did anything.

Am I really thinking about actually doing this?

Fuck. I totally am.

"I'm not sure.... I don't know how much longer I'll be here. At Mungo's."

Draco scowled. "Please tell me it's because you'll have your own private practice because you wouldn't believe the shite I get for having this thing... even all distorted and scarred up and obviously not liked though it is. You don't seem to have a problem with it. Good on you. I'll just go where you go, if it's all the same. If you don't mind, that is."

Draco Malfoy was going to be her first patient. The irony was definitely not lost on her. "Yes, I'm looking to open my own practice. I'm not sure when I'll be opening. I've talked to someone about doing potions for me, but I still haven't found premises or the like. It might be a while. I think I'll be leaving here soon though. I don't know how many more double shifts I can take. I collapse when I get home and I'm tired when I'm here." She had been waving her hand while talking, and she stopped mid-motion, bringing her hand down to her side. She'd been babbling. She blinked. She doesn't babble. Luna babbles. Why was she babbling?

"Anyway, yes. I will be opening my own practice, to answer your question."

She babbled and gestured a lot when she was talking about something she was interested in. Draco filed that away, grinning. "Who would you help?"

"What?"

"Would you help anyone who wandered in? Pureblood or Muggleborn? Would you treat a bleeding werewolf? Help someone who was part ogre?" Then Draco added, "A squib?"

His mind was on how he'd noticed the medi-witches and healers in Romania would help the Gypsies that were wizards or witches too, but they damned near wanted to let the ones who were just Gypsies die. They were looked down upon by wizards and witches anyhow for just being Gypsies, but if they didn't have any magic, they were treated worse. It was the first time he'd ever experienced such prejudice from the opposite side. Being on the receiving end of what he used to dole out pretty regularly had been a bit of an eye-opener.

Ginny took a step back, her eyebrows furrowing defensively as she crossed her arms over her chest. "If you're asking if I'm a professional, then yes. I will treat anyone who comes into my clinic. Dark mark or not. I never cared about blood, pure or not. I'm a healer. I heal. It's what I do."

"Keep your knickers on," Draco snapped. He could understand why she thought that of him, but at the same time, she did not know him any longer. Not that she'd known him in the first place, but he wasn't the same petulant child with petty jealousies that he'd showed himself to be at Hogwarts. "I'm just asking questions. Do you really think someone who let a Gypsy seal the cuts on his arm with a knife that'd been sitting in one of the campfires really gives a fuck about blood purity any longer? There are places that the wizarding world would consider backward that are more forward in their thinking than some of us could ever hope to be."

Draco looked away and cleared his throat. Now he felt naked.

"Where are you getting the money?"

Ginny studied Draco for a long moment. She didn't presume to know anything about him. Not really. She had secondhand accounts from unreliable sources. She loved her brother and Harry, but they were biased, just as she was sure people were biased towards them. Her eyebrows furrowed again at his question. "I received a scholarship from the ministry. I have a little money left. Enough for the start up costs, anyway." Her eyes narrowed. "No, my family did not suddenly come into money. We didn't profit from the war."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Will you quit being so defensive? I know Draco Malfoy of the past has earned it, but things happen to a bloke when he's done what I have in the last few years that make him a different person than the spoiled twat you knew. What I was going to say about the money was that if you didn't, you should look into having an investor. I'm sure there are certain groups not treated as well by this fine establishment that would like an alternative. If you let it be known you serve anyone regardless of blood purity, you might get some backing. You also might get rotten eggs thrown at you on the street for being a blood traitor, but you might get backing."

Ginny wanted to tell him that she had never worried about people throwing eggs at her for being a blood traitor. It was the killing that she'd feared. Still feared. She begrudgingly had to admit that he had a good point. Putting an ad out in the Prophet as an equal-opportunity healing service would probably be good for business. Or bad, depending on how you looked at it. Of course, things had changed since the fall of the war. People had changed.

A testament to that fact was sitting on her exam room table, backless gown barely hiding his nipples.

Her eyes darted back up to his face. "It's a good thought. I'll look into it." She wondered in Remus would have any sway with the local werewolf pack, if he'd be able to talk to them about spreading the news. And Hermione knew plenty of people. Maybe she'd be able to help as well. Harry, of course, knew almost everyone, or would be able to talk almost anyone into anything. She shook her head. This idea had been infecting her thoughts for days, almost every waking hour. Having Blaise as her potions master, for little to no money, made things easier.

She looked back at Draco when she realized he'd said something. "Sorry. What was that?"

"I said if you do need money, I have some... and few places to put it. No one has to know where your funding comes from if you're worried about extra eggs."

Ginny laughed. She stopped when she realized he wasn't kidding. "Merlin, you're serious." Now she felt bad for laughing because he had, oddly, a hurt look on his face. "Why? Why would you want to fund a clinic for a witch you don't know anything about? You don't know if I'm good. You don't know if it'd be a bad investment. You have no idea how well we'd do. Why?"

"Because with the exception of Sophie, I actually have good taste in women. I don't see that you'd be a bad investment. You don't even like me, and you've been quite professional this whole time. Again, you don't even like me, and you offered to fix my scarring. You got a scholarship from the Ministry. They don't give those to people who are rubbish at healing. Anyone that dedicated to the healing arts can not be a bad investment. Besides, after I leave this room, I plan on checking up on you before any money changes hands. What you have is an offer, not an agreement."

She rose an eyebrow at him. "You plan on checking up on me? How does one 'check up' on someone?" She shook her head. "You know? I don't really want to know." She stared at him for another second, her face holding a look of disbelief. "Well... If I need an investor, I'll keep you in mind. I know a few other people who might invest as well, since you make it sound so glamorous." She smiled softly. "I'm not sure how much longer I'll be here for. You might have to floo me to see about the arm. Maybe I can just come to wherever you want to me. It won't be exactly invasive, but it'll take quiet and concentration."

She made a mental note to start studying the mechanics of the spell tonight. "It'll need to be done regularly, like stretching. If you lag on it, you just end up going back to where you started."

"Malfoy Manor is where it has always been, but the wards are still firmly in place. If I know you're dropping by though, I can at least make sure you make it to the front door with all your parts," he said with a grin.

At her look, he laughed.

"I'm joking. I'll leave you directions, but an owl when you'll be coming round wouldn't hurt. All joking aside, I do hope if it comes to an agreement, you'll consider it. I need to do something with myself. It's when I get bored that I tend to get into trouble."

"I'm not sure how much you'd really have to do, unless you know anything about filing." She laughed. "Between me doing the exams and Zabini in the back with the potions, we'll definitely need someone to be up front taking care of the appointments." She looked past him to a point on the wall. Maybe she could have her mum help with the decorating. She was always good with that. She'd help make the front room inviting and safe. Maybe in a green or a blue. Lots of plants. She'd need to get a good wizarding file cabinet, and an appointment book, and she'd need to be set up on the floo network.

She'd done that thing where she zoned out, thinking about all the things she'd need to do. She focused back on his face. He had an odd expression on his face. "What?"

"Well, I don't know what's more shocking... the fact that I think you just sort of suggested I be the receptionist at your place... because THAT would be really inviting. Yes, come check in with the former Death Eater who even Death Eaters want to kill. Or the fact that the only Zabini I know who makes potions is my best friend. Now you have to let me invest. I won't have him working in a lab that might not be the best. He's very important to me. If you don't want me throwing money at you, fine, but at least let me have the potions lab built. For my peace of mind. There aren't many people I absolutely can not do without, but he's one of them."

If he wasn't so comfortable with some aspects of himself these days, Draco might have been embarrassed about the soft tone his voice took on when he spoke of Blaise, but it was Blaise. The people Draco loved got the soft tones when he spoke of them.

Of course. Of course he's Zabini's best friend. Why wouldn't he be? Of course. "I don't need you to throw money at me. You'll have to speak with Blaise about the funding for his lab. I told him he could have anything he wanted." She leaned back against the counter. "We haven't really drawn up a contract or anything, so he might back out. I just met with him, anyway."

Ginny wasn't sure how they'd gotten on the topic of her clinic anyway. She never talked to her patients about her personal life. Ever. Why was she doing it now? Why was she doing it with him?

"Alright. If you don't have any other questions, feel free to get dressed. I'll have everything ready for you at the receptionist's desk."

"If you don't want Blaise to back out, just say. I can be persuasive on your behalf. Especially if he knows you're treating me," Draco said grinning, not sure why in the hell he was even saying it.

She needed to hex him or something, so he'd feel normal again. They were both being too polite, having a normal conversation. He needed to do something to make her mad, so Draco whipped the paper gown off. Arse-naked as the day he was born, he reached for his pants. Not that in her profession she'd never seen a naked man before, but she probably wasn't too keen on seeing him in the buff.

Ginny's head cocked to the side when he discarded his gown and reached for his pants. She looked at his form appreciatively. Huh. She shook her head at herself when she realized what she was doing and turned her back on him, scribbling a few notes on his chart, mostly about his want to schedule more appointments to look at the scar tissue on his arse. She shook her head, crossing out the word 'arse' and writing down the word 'arm'. Ridiculous. I'm ridiculous.

Draco scowled as he shrugged on his tee shirt and his jeans. She wasn't going to be mad at him for being naked in her presence? That was odd. He would have thought she'd be irritated that he'd done it. He'd obviously done so on purpose. Maybe she hadn't minded? That was even more odd. He had another impulse to ask her for tea. Draco stopped himself just as the words were about to fall past his lips. He studied her for a second.

"Which ones?" he asked.

"Which ones what?"

"Which ones are you wearing today?" Draco smirked.

Ginny rose an eyebrow, still not understanding for a split second. Oh. Oh! She felt her cheeks blush. How stupid of her, really. She had no problem with him being naked, but the first time he refers to her knickers she blushes. Blast and damn. "I don't think that's any of your business." She hugged the chart to her chest again. "Do you always ask your doctor what type of knickers they're wearing?"

Draco grinned, feeling much improved. He'd made her blush. "I ask lots of people what sorts of underpants they have on. Pants and knickers encompass a great lot of my small talk conversations. I think it might be a little of my business, seeing as how I've had my hands on them. My hands made friends with some of them. The hands are just curious as to how their new friends are doing."

He smirked at her.

Her eyes narrowed a bit. "I wouldn't say they've made friends. They're nothing more than acquaintances, I assure you." She opened the drawer she'd thrown her name tag into and clipped it back to the front of her white coat. She glared at her image, who was smiling blindly in the frame. She rarely smiled like that. It actually looked slightly odd to her.

"Maybe they'd like to become friends." Merlin's left tit, where had THAT come from? Now she probably thought he was hitting on her.

Ginny actually blinked at him several times. When she realized she'd been silent for a little too long she cleared her throat. "Right." She turned, completely at a loss. What was she supposed to say to that? She grabbed her pen and jotted down a few more notes. She ripped off a scrap of paper and wrote down how he could reach her at St. Mungo's. She didn't want to give him her home address. She turned back around and handed him the slip. "If you have any other questions, you can get a hold of me here."

Draco snapped his fingers at her until she figured out he wanted her writing utensil and some paper himself. He gave her the Manor's location. He looked at her writing thing. It was sort of neat. He almost didn't want to hand it back to her. It had the ink well inside it, he supposed? It seemed less messy than a quill. Plus, he was always breaking those when he'd be upset and writing. This apparatus looked sturdier. Draco twirled the thing in his fingers and bit, studying it. He had an odd urge to put it in his mouth and chew on it, but he didn't think she'd appreciate it. After playing with the thing for what seemed like ages, he realized she was waiting for him to give it back and handed it to her with a sheepish look on his face.

"Sorry. And I really was just joking about the wards before. Mother took all of the harmful ones off after Father..." Draco cleared his throat. "She took them off a while back. You'll be fine should you decide to stop by." 

"Well, I promise I won't be just 'stopping by'. There will be an owl first." She tucked the pen back in her deep pocket, before grabbing the chart and motioning to the door. "Like I said, your paperwork will be at the receptionist's desk."

She opened the door, holding it open for him. "If you have any more questions, you know how to get a hold of me." She blinked at herself. Hadn't she already said that?

Draco situated his hand as if he had a sock puppet on and directed it to talk to her trousers. "Good-bye, my new friends. We know you are under there. Perhaps someday we will meet again. Au revoir."

At the look on her face, he laughed loudly, stuffed his hands in his pockets and started a leisurely stroll towards the receptionist desk - whistling a happy little tune. She certainly was fun to tease, even if he did make himself look like a loony in the process.

Ginny turned, a look of complete disbelief on her face. He'd puppetted. At her crotch. Spoke to her knickers. Maybe it was a good thing he'd been away for a bit. He sounded like he needed some sort of vacation. Maybe she could find a bed next to Lockhart upstairs for him. She laughed, which made a small group of medi-witches look at her strangely.

{SUMMARY} Draco goes for a checkup. His medi-witch is a familiar face. There's puppetting at knickers.