DUET 7: imera (pinch-hitter) and unseen1969
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. All fics posted at this community were written entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Title: Hair
Author: imera (pinch-hitter)
Rating: G
Word Count: ~3500 words
Summary: His whole life was over because he was going bald and none of the potions he tried had a lasting effect. Then he heard about a new potion, but there was a catch: it was still in the testing stage, and he would have to go in for regular check-ups, and-worst of all-a certain witch was in charge of the project.
Warnings: none
Author's Note(s): I wish there was more time to write this story because it felt rushed, but I didn’t have that extra time. Luckily I still reached the end for the story.
Draco stared at his own reflection, barely recognising the man staring back at him. It was happening; he could feel it. Everything was changing, and nothing he did could stop it. He closed his eyes, hoping for the millionth time it was all a bad dream, but it wasn’t. As he opened his eyes he could still see it. It hadn't happened all at once, like a werewolf changing shape, but just as a man bitten by a lycanthrope feared the moon, so Draco feared this one thing...
Slowly he reached for the back of his head, and felt it.
He was going bald.
As far as he was aware, none of the other Malfoys had ever lost their hair. His father, who was far older than him, had twice as much hair, which did nothing to help Draco’s self image.
Some Muggle-born wizards and witches had told him to use magic to solve his problem, but what they didn’t know was that magic couldn’t solve a magical problem-at least, not permanently. In his quest to regain his hair he had done every silly thing the Healers had told him to do, and had tried every stupid ointment available. None of those things had prevented the unfortunate bad hair spreading across his scalp, infecting the rest like the plague.
He'd been ready to give up when someone informed him of a new cure. It was still in the testing stage, but its inventors were looking for test subjects, and while being a test subject was not the ideal way to go about regaining his hair, he didn’t see any reason not to try it. At least he would be monitored by professionals.
So he signed up.
*
Quickly Draco walked past the desk, avoiding looking directly at anyone so as not to draw their attention. He took the lift to the fourth floor, walking at a determined pace down the long corridor and into the office mentioned in his letter. In the waiting area, he discovered he was not the only one waiting for the Healer. Several sad-looking witches and wizards watched him closely as he walked over to an empty chair and sat down, nodding to the person next to him. Nobody spoke, their faces looking as grim as Draco was feeling.
They waited almost five minutes before a door opened and a Healer holding a notepad walked into the waiting room. Draco looked up, and wanted to run out of the room before the Healer spotted him, only to change his mind when he remembered that he had signed up using his full name, which meant she already knew he would be there.
“Hello everyone, I’m Hermione Granger and I will be the project manager. Before we start, we have a few forms for you to fill out. Some of the questions are more personal than others, but as you’ve signed up as test subjects we do need to know everything. Don’t be ashamed of answering-only my assistant or I will know what you’ve written; and please don’t cheat-we need to know these things, just in case, for any reason, anything should go wrong.”
Draco had barely noticed the man standing behind her, holding a sheaf of forms and a handful of quills. The man handed out a form and a quill to each of the volunteers while Granger explained the finer details, like what would happen if something didn’t go as planned, and the diets they had to stick to, and the other things they should avoid during the test, like alcohol or other potions. They were also given a pamphlet to read later, which, she said, should answer any more questions they might have.
Draco stared at the form, trying to fill it in with as much detail as possible, fearing that if he left anything out it would ruin the cure. Most of the questions were easy to answer, even some of the more private ones, but nothing could prepare him for the ultimate humiliating question: When was the last time you had sex? He wanted to write None of your business, or lie, but he remembered Granger’s warning about the possible consequences of not answering all the questions, and while he doubted his answer would affect the cure, Draco decided not to lie. Biting his lip he entered the correct information, hoping that Granger and her assistant would be too busy to actually read the answers.
The test subjects were interviewed one by one before being sent home with a bottle of shampoo in their pockets and yet more information. Draco was the last to be interviewed, making him wonder whether it was because his name was the last on the list, or for some other reason...
His foot tapped nervously on the floor, and his lips were almost bleeding because he couldn’t stop chewing them.
At last, “Mr Malfoy,” the assistant said, giving him a thin smile that didn’t make Draco feel any better.
He was shown into a small office where he was asked to sit down and wait for Granger. Draco waited nearly two minutes before she showed up, which felt like an eternity when he was so nervous about the whole process.
“Welcome, Mr Malfoy, glad to have you here,” Granger said in a sweet voice, as if she hadn’t really laughed when his name had appeared on the candidate list. “My assistant will now take some measurements and some small samples of your hair for our records. It should be mostly painless.”
While the assistant took the samples out of the room, Granger read through Draco’s questionnaire. “I see you’ve had no”-Draco’s mind worked quickly, and he imagined her saying no sexual relationships in two years, but instead she said something else-“reactions to any potion ingredients; have you ever been tested?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll sign you up for an allergy test as well, as we don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” There was nothing in the way she looked at him or talked to him to show that they’d known each other previously, which felt strange as he had never experienced anything like it before. “My assistant will now draw some blood so we can test it, and I would advise you against using the shampoo before you receive an owl from me, later today or tomorrow morning, confirming that the test results are clear.”
The assistant returned and took the blood samples, and left the room a second time. Granger continued to act as if she didn’t know Draco from before, which made him begin to question his sanity.
“Miss Granger,” he began, feeling slightly silly for bringing up their past, but knowing that he had to ask: “Can I trust you not to switch my test shampoo for a hair removal product?”
“The fact that you question my professionalism makes me wonder why you didn’t leave as soon as you saw me,” she replied, icily. “I have not forgotten our previous differences, but I am working on a potion which will, I hope, help thousands of unfortunate wizards and witches like yourself. I have no time to play tricks on a man simply because he was an idiot when we went to school together.”
“I’m the idiot?” said Draco, angrily. “What about you and your little gang, always getting away with stuff while the rest of us were punished if we so much as thought of doing anything similar.”
“You were a fool-a fool who thought bullying others was acceptable simply because you were born with privileges others didn’t have. You were a foolish, angry and spoiled boy.”
Draco wanted to reply, but Granger beat him to it. “Yes, I smiled a little when I saw your name on the list, but I want to help others, even if they weren’t so nice when they were younger. If you think I can’t do a proper job because of our past then you’re welcome to leave. I have better things to do than to waste my time convincing you to stay.”
It was tempting to leave in order to make a statement but Draco realised that, if he did, it would only confirm her prejudices. “No,” he said, “I will stay. It’s not like I’ve got a choice.”
“You always have a choice, and nobody will stop you if you decide you don’t want to do this, but I’m pleased you’ve decided to stay.”
Draco felt defeated, but told himself that having his hair back was better than knowing he’d won. “I’ll stay,” he whispered and sat back in his chair, waiting for her to finish filling out more forms.
“I’ll see you in a week,” Granger said and handed Draco a small bottle.
It was his first sample of what would hopefully be a hair loss cure which worked.
*
A few days later, Draco stared at his reflection, wondering if the cure was working, or if he would spend the next few months on the programme only to have his dreams shattered.
He was trying to think positive, which wasn’t difficult- the problem lay in remaining positive as he stared at his unchanged hair. The horrific prospect of being the first fully bald Malfoy made him shiver, but there was nothing more he could do.
*
The week passed slowly, but eventually he was back in the office, sitting patiently as the assistant took more samples of his hair while Granger quizzed him about his daily routine, asking how much of the shampoo he was using and whether he was feeling any change.
He noticed she was not pleased with his answers, and got the impression that she had expected more to happen. “That is disappointing,” she said, “but if we succeeded on our first try then we wouldn’t need a test programme. My assistant will take a look at the new samples and create a new shampoo which will correspond with your type of hair. You’ll receive it later today.”
Draco wished it would work at once, but he knew that was wishful thinking.
At least this cure was supposed to be permanent unlike the other cures he’d tried, which he was expected to use once or twice each day.
*
The new shampoo smelled less pleasant than the first, but it seemed to be working.
Draco could see the changes-they weren’t big, but they were noticeable, making him smile at his reflection for the first time in a long time.
Every time he used the shampoo, the effect increased, giving him hope that he would soon have his hair back.
*
“I’ve not yet completed the tests,” said the assistant, a week later, when Draco had returned to the office for another evaluation, “but there is one thing you should know.”
The man handed Granger a notepad.
“Interesting,” she muttered before handing it back. The assistant disappeared.
“While this shampoo does work,” she told Draco, “it’s destroying the quality of your natural hair, so we should stop using it before it makes you go fully bald.”
Draco’s dreams were crushed, but since Granger didn’t seem to be giving up, he knew that he wouldn’t either.
“We need to monitor your hair and make sure it isn’t falling out, so we will meet twice a week for the next few weeks.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Draco replied, relieved that she was at least concerned for him as a test subject, if not as a person.
*
The next time they met she was alone, occupied running tests on hair samples, and Draco, waiting in her office while she finished up in the next room, was able to observe her working. She was fast and clinical. “I’ll be right with you,” she called, sounding slightly stressed, and a tea set magically danced its way towards him, offering him a cup of tea.
She joined him a few minutes later. “Your hair looks better, but it's still lacking the quality of your original hair.”
That wasn’t the news he’d wanted to hear, but he supposed it was better to know the truth than to have her pretend that everything was fine.
“How are the rest of the group doing?” he asked, curiously.
“One test subject is doing quite well-his hair quality has increased and his hair’s growing faster. With the rest, we’re still deciding which formula works best, the same as for you. The magic signature of each wizard and witch is different, so the effect of the potion varies from person to person.”
Draco had received a lot of information about the project when he first signed up, and had learned then that while most potions worked on everyone, making a potion with an everlasting effect was not as easy as making a potion which worked for a few hours, or even a few days. “You are sure this will be permanent?”
“Based on our research, yes, it should be, but if things don’t turn out exactly as we want them to then we'll continue until it’s a success and you get what you signed up for.”
To his surprise, Draco found that he was less interested in her answer-in fact, he quickly forgot what she had said-than he was in the fact that she wasn't treating his condition as though it were something disgusting...
Shortly afterwards, he left with a new bottle of shampoo.
*
They continued to meet twice a week until his hair seemed to be on the right track, then the meetings were cut down to once a week.
In the beginning, Draco had found the meetings embarrassing, but the rewards soon made the humiliation worth it and it didn’t take long before he stopped worrying about what others would think, especially once his hair had thickened and he didn’t have to hide it every time he went out.
After the war he'd struggled to get his life back on track, and when he finally had, other issues had arisen. Fighting the bad publicity he received because of his name, as well as his withering reputation, he was soon made aware that no matter what his family did, nobody would forget about their past. To make things worse, his wife had decided to divorce him after ten years of marriage, because they were childless. He had tried to date after his marriage ended, but it was difficult, as most women his age still remembered everything he had done in the war and turned him down. The few women who agreed to see him were soon exposed for what they were-gold diggers.
Eventually, he had given up, and accepted the fact that the Malfoy family had brought ruin on themselves by their own bad choices.
As most women ignored him, talking with Granger was special, and Draco found himself looking forward to their meetings in a way that would have shocked his teenage self.
He knew she was single, which may explain how he came to give in to his desires. As soon as her assistant had left the room, and he was alone with her, he did something he knew he would either regret or treasure for the rest of his life-as she turned to speak to him, he kissed her. It wasn’t a short or weak kiss, which was maybe why she didn’t try to stop him, instead her lips responded to his, her body melting into him.
It was the door opening which snapped Draco out of it, making him pull away from Granger as if she were on fire. The assistant stood still for a second, uncertain how to react to what he had witnessed. “I’ve got the potion,” he said, at last, placing it down on the counter before closing the door behind him.
Granger stared at Draco mortified, and Draco regretted his actions at once. It seemed like she wanted to say something, but quickly changed her mind and turned to her desk. Draco didn’t know what to say either, feeling foolish for giving in to his desires so easily, especially after the way he had always treated Granger at school. And, while things had changed and he no longer thought of Muggle-borns as Mudbloods, he was still sure that he didn’t want to mingle with them more than necessary, and certainly not to date them.
He contemplated rushing out of the room without another word, but changed his mind when he remembered he was no longer five years old.
“I’m sorry,” he said before the silence became any more unbearable. He wanted to explain that he hadn’t been close to anyone in a while and had therefore mistaken her professional kindness for affection, and he would have done so had he not realised how needy it would make him sound.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Granger. “I’m sure we can both pretend it never happened.”
They agreed to do that-pretend the kiss had never happened-but as time passed Draco noticed that even though she was acting pretty much the same, she was treating him slightly differently. There was less eye contact, and she would often leave the room to chat with her assistant.
And her assistant was also acting strangely, knocking on the door and waiting for a response before entering the room, even after Granger had told him he didn’t have to do so.
*
Fortunately for Draco, his hair wasn’t affected by the kiss.
In fact, he had more hair than he’d had in years, and according to Granger and her assistant, its quality was great.
It wasn’t long before they told him he was no longer a test subject-all that remained was for him to try a few weeks without the potion shampoo to see if it held, and then he would have to return twice more for check-ups.
It was during the first of the check-ups that things changed again. Granger was standing next to him, studying his hair, when he turned his head and looked at her. The silence between them thickened as they gazed at each other-and Draco realised that the attraction was mutual.
Before either of them could say a word, Granger flung herself at him, her lips pressing against his, responding as he deepened the kiss. He hadn’t been this close to anyone in ages, and maybe that was affecting his judgement, but he didn’t care. Her body felt nice against his, her lips were warm and soft, her tongue was wonderful as it teased him.
Draco didn’t know how far things might have gone if the assistant hadn’t knocked on the door-and for the first time both he and Granger were happy that the man hadn’t stopped knocking.
“Come in,” Granger said a few seconds later.
They all behaved as if everything was normal until the assistant left. Draco wasn’t sure if they would go back to kissing, or if they would talk about what happened and agree to forget about it.
“I don't make a habit of kissing my patients,” Granger said.
“I hope not,” said Draco. He wasn't expecting miracles, but he was desperately hoping they wouldn’t go back to ignoring what was happening between them. “But does having one remaining check-up really make me a patient?”
“Why do you ask?” she said, though Draco was sure she knew what he meant.
“Because I thought I’d ask you on a date. That is, if you’re free.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I never thought you would date a Muggle-born.”
“And I never thought I’d lose my hair, but it’s happened.”
“Are you sure you’re not just asking because you’ve been single for so long?”
“Are you sure you’re not just using our Healer-patient relationship as an excuse not to accept?”
“Aren’t you full of yourself?”
“And you aren’t?”
There were a few seconds of silence before they both laughed.
“What about the twenty eighth?” she suggested.
“Dinner?”
“No, it’s a little soon for that.”
“Then lunch, over at the new café in Diagon Alley:”
“Are you really sure you want to be seen with me in public?”
“Well, I’ve got a new head of hair, so I look pretty good.”
She laughed. “It’s a date,” she said and closed his file.
*
Draco got up from his chair and put on his cloak. Just as he was about to open the door he turned and kissed her deeply, knowing that even if their relationship went nowhere, it was a nowhere which was far better than the lonely place he’d been in until that moment.
When he left the room they were both grinning like a couple of teenagers.
THE END
Title: Hair
Author: imera (pinch-hitter)
Rating: G
Word Count: ~3500 words
Summary: His whole life was over because he was going bald and none of the potions he tried had a lasting effect. Then he heard about a new potion, but there was a catch: it was still in the testing stage, and he would have to go in for regular check-ups, and-worst of all-a certain witch was in charge of the project.
Warnings: none
Author's Note(s): I wish there was more time to write this story because it felt rushed, but I didn’t have that extra time. Luckily I still reached the end for the story.
Draco stared at his own reflection, barely recognising the man staring back at him. It was happening; he could feel it. Everything was changing, and nothing he did could stop it. He closed his eyes, hoping for the millionth time it was all a bad dream, but it wasn’t. As he opened his eyes he could still see it. It hadn't happened all at once, like a werewolf changing shape, but just as a man bitten by a lycanthrope feared the moon, so Draco feared this one thing...
Slowly he reached for the back of his head, and felt it.
He was going bald.
As far as he was aware, none of the other Malfoys had ever lost their hair. His father, who was far older than him, had twice as much hair, which did nothing to help Draco’s self image.
Some Muggle-born wizards and witches had told him to use magic to solve his problem, but what they didn’t know was that magic couldn’t solve a magical problem-at least, not permanently. In his quest to regain his hair he had done every silly thing the Healers had told him to do, and had tried every stupid ointment available. None of those things had prevented the unfortunate bad hair spreading across his scalp, infecting the rest like the plague.
He'd been ready to give up when someone informed him of a new cure. It was still in the testing stage, but its inventors were looking for test subjects, and while being a test subject was not the ideal way to go about regaining his hair, he didn’t see any reason not to try it. At least he would be monitored by professionals.
So he signed up.
*
Quickly Draco walked past the desk, avoiding looking directly at anyone so as not to draw their attention. He took the lift to the fourth floor, walking at a determined pace down the long corridor and into the office mentioned in his letter. In the waiting area, he discovered he was not the only one waiting for the Healer. Several sad-looking witches and wizards watched him closely as he walked over to an empty chair and sat down, nodding to the person next to him. Nobody spoke, their faces looking as grim as Draco was feeling.
They waited almost five minutes before a door opened and a Healer holding a notepad walked into the waiting room. Draco looked up, and wanted to run out of the room before the Healer spotted him, only to change his mind when he remembered that he had signed up using his full name, which meant she already knew he would be there.
“Hello everyone, I’m Hermione Granger and I will be the project manager. Before we start, we have a few forms for you to fill out. Some of the questions are more personal than others, but as you’ve signed up as test subjects we do need to know everything. Don’t be ashamed of answering-only my assistant or I will know what you’ve written; and please don’t cheat-we need to know these things, just in case, for any reason, anything should go wrong.”
Draco had barely noticed the man standing behind her, holding a sheaf of forms and a handful of quills. The man handed out a form and a quill to each of the volunteers while Granger explained the finer details, like what would happen if something didn’t go as planned, and the diets they had to stick to, and the other things they should avoid during the test, like alcohol or other potions. They were also given a pamphlet to read later, which, she said, should answer any more questions they might have.
Draco stared at the form, trying to fill it in with as much detail as possible, fearing that if he left anything out it would ruin the cure. Most of the questions were easy to answer, even some of the more private ones, but nothing could prepare him for the ultimate humiliating question: When was the last time you had sex? He wanted to write None of your business, or lie, but he remembered Granger’s warning about the possible consequences of not answering all the questions, and while he doubted his answer would affect the cure, Draco decided not to lie. Biting his lip he entered the correct information, hoping that Granger and her assistant would be too busy to actually read the answers.
The test subjects were interviewed one by one before being sent home with a bottle of shampoo in their pockets and yet more information. Draco was the last to be interviewed, making him wonder whether it was because his name was the last on the list, or for some other reason...
His foot tapped nervously on the floor, and his lips were almost bleeding because he couldn’t stop chewing them.
At last, “Mr Malfoy,” the assistant said, giving him a thin smile that didn’t make Draco feel any better.
He was shown into a small office where he was asked to sit down and wait for Granger. Draco waited nearly two minutes before she showed up, which felt like an eternity when he was so nervous about the whole process.
“Welcome, Mr Malfoy, glad to have you here,” Granger said in a sweet voice, as if she hadn’t really laughed when his name had appeared on the candidate list. “My assistant will now take some measurements and some small samples of your hair for our records. It should be mostly painless.”
While the assistant took the samples out of the room, Granger read through Draco’s questionnaire. “I see you’ve had no”-Draco’s mind worked quickly, and he imagined her saying no sexual relationships in two years, but instead she said something else-“reactions to any potion ingredients; have you ever been tested?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll sign you up for an allergy test as well, as we don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” There was nothing in the way she looked at him or talked to him to show that they’d known each other previously, which felt strange as he had never experienced anything like it before. “My assistant will now draw some blood so we can test it, and I would advise you against using the shampoo before you receive an owl from me, later today or tomorrow morning, confirming that the test results are clear.”
The assistant returned and took the blood samples, and left the room a second time. Granger continued to act as if she didn’t know Draco from before, which made him begin to question his sanity.
“Miss Granger,” he began, feeling slightly silly for bringing up their past, but knowing that he had to ask: “Can I trust you not to switch my test shampoo for a hair removal product?”
“The fact that you question my professionalism makes me wonder why you didn’t leave as soon as you saw me,” she replied, icily. “I have not forgotten our previous differences, but I am working on a potion which will, I hope, help thousands of unfortunate wizards and witches like yourself. I have no time to play tricks on a man simply because he was an idiot when we went to school together.”
“I’m the idiot?” said Draco, angrily. “What about you and your little gang, always getting away with stuff while the rest of us were punished if we so much as thought of doing anything similar.”
“You were a fool-a fool who thought bullying others was acceptable simply because you were born with privileges others didn’t have. You were a foolish, angry and spoiled boy.”
Draco wanted to reply, but Granger beat him to it. “Yes, I smiled a little when I saw your name on the list, but I want to help others, even if they weren’t so nice when they were younger. If you think I can’t do a proper job because of our past then you’re welcome to leave. I have better things to do than to waste my time convincing you to stay.”
It was tempting to leave in order to make a statement but Draco realised that, if he did, it would only confirm her prejudices. “No,” he said, “I will stay. It’s not like I’ve got a choice.”
“You always have a choice, and nobody will stop you if you decide you don’t want to do this, but I’m pleased you’ve decided to stay.”
Draco felt defeated, but told himself that having his hair back was better than knowing he’d won. “I’ll stay,” he whispered and sat back in his chair, waiting for her to finish filling out more forms.
“I’ll see you in a week,” Granger said and handed Draco a small bottle.
It was his first sample of what would hopefully be a hair loss cure which worked.
*
A few days later, Draco stared at his reflection, wondering if the cure was working, or if he would spend the next few months on the programme only to have his dreams shattered.
He was trying to think positive, which wasn’t difficult- the problem lay in remaining positive as he stared at his unchanged hair. The horrific prospect of being the first fully bald Malfoy made him shiver, but there was nothing more he could do.
*
The week passed slowly, but eventually he was back in the office, sitting patiently as the assistant took more samples of his hair while Granger quizzed him about his daily routine, asking how much of the shampoo he was using and whether he was feeling any change.
He noticed she was not pleased with his answers, and got the impression that she had expected more to happen. “That is disappointing,” she said, “but if we succeeded on our first try then we wouldn’t need a test programme. My assistant will take a look at the new samples and create a new shampoo which will correspond with your type of hair. You’ll receive it later today.”
Draco wished it would work at once, but he knew that was wishful thinking.
At least this cure was supposed to be permanent unlike the other cures he’d tried, which he was expected to use once or twice each day.
*
The new shampoo smelled less pleasant than the first, but it seemed to be working.
Draco could see the changes-they weren’t big, but they were noticeable, making him smile at his reflection for the first time in a long time.
Every time he used the shampoo, the effect increased, giving him hope that he would soon have his hair back.
*
“I’ve not yet completed the tests,” said the assistant, a week later, when Draco had returned to the office for another evaluation, “but there is one thing you should know.”
The man handed Granger a notepad.
“Interesting,” she muttered before handing it back. The assistant disappeared.
“While this shampoo does work,” she told Draco, “it’s destroying the quality of your natural hair, so we should stop using it before it makes you go fully bald.”
Draco’s dreams were crushed, but since Granger didn’t seem to be giving up, he knew that he wouldn’t either.
“We need to monitor your hair and make sure it isn’t falling out, so we will meet twice a week for the next few weeks.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Draco replied, relieved that she was at least concerned for him as a test subject, if not as a person.
*
The next time they met she was alone, occupied running tests on hair samples, and Draco, waiting in her office while she finished up in the next room, was able to observe her working. She was fast and clinical. “I’ll be right with you,” she called, sounding slightly stressed, and a tea set magically danced its way towards him, offering him a cup of tea.
She joined him a few minutes later. “Your hair looks better, but it's still lacking the quality of your original hair.”
That wasn’t the news he’d wanted to hear, but he supposed it was better to know the truth than to have her pretend that everything was fine.
“How are the rest of the group doing?” he asked, curiously.
“One test subject is doing quite well-his hair quality has increased and his hair’s growing faster. With the rest, we’re still deciding which formula works best, the same as for you. The magic signature of each wizard and witch is different, so the effect of the potion varies from person to person.”
Draco had received a lot of information about the project when he first signed up, and had learned then that while most potions worked on everyone, making a potion with an everlasting effect was not as easy as making a potion which worked for a few hours, or even a few days. “You are sure this will be permanent?”
“Based on our research, yes, it should be, but if things don’t turn out exactly as we want them to then we'll continue until it’s a success and you get what you signed up for.”
To his surprise, Draco found that he was less interested in her answer-in fact, he quickly forgot what she had said-than he was in the fact that she wasn't treating his condition as though it were something disgusting...
Shortly afterwards, he left with a new bottle of shampoo.
*
They continued to meet twice a week until his hair seemed to be on the right track, then the meetings were cut down to once a week.
In the beginning, Draco had found the meetings embarrassing, but the rewards soon made the humiliation worth it and it didn’t take long before he stopped worrying about what others would think, especially once his hair had thickened and he didn’t have to hide it every time he went out.
After the war he'd struggled to get his life back on track, and when he finally had, other issues had arisen. Fighting the bad publicity he received because of his name, as well as his withering reputation, he was soon made aware that no matter what his family did, nobody would forget about their past. To make things worse, his wife had decided to divorce him after ten years of marriage, because they were childless. He had tried to date after his marriage ended, but it was difficult, as most women his age still remembered everything he had done in the war and turned him down. The few women who agreed to see him were soon exposed for what they were-gold diggers.
Eventually, he had given up, and accepted the fact that the Malfoy family had brought ruin on themselves by their own bad choices.
As most women ignored him, talking with Granger was special, and Draco found himself looking forward to their meetings in a way that would have shocked his teenage self.
He knew she was single, which may explain how he came to give in to his desires. As soon as her assistant had left the room, and he was alone with her, he did something he knew he would either regret or treasure for the rest of his life-as she turned to speak to him, he kissed her. It wasn’t a short or weak kiss, which was maybe why she didn’t try to stop him, instead her lips responded to his, her body melting into him.
It was the door opening which snapped Draco out of it, making him pull away from Granger as if she were on fire. The assistant stood still for a second, uncertain how to react to what he had witnessed. “I’ve got the potion,” he said, at last, placing it down on the counter before closing the door behind him.
Granger stared at Draco mortified, and Draco regretted his actions at once. It seemed like she wanted to say something, but quickly changed her mind and turned to her desk. Draco didn’t know what to say either, feeling foolish for giving in to his desires so easily, especially after the way he had always treated Granger at school. And, while things had changed and he no longer thought of Muggle-borns as Mudbloods, he was still sure that he didn’t want to mingle with them more than necessary, and certainly not to date them.
He contemplated rushing out of the room without another word, but changed his mind when he remembered he was no longer five years old.
“I’m sorry,” he said before the silence became any more unbearable. He wanted to explain that he hadn’t been close to anyone in a while and had therefore mistaken her professional kindness for affection, and he would have done so had he not realised how needy it would make him sound.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Granger. “I’m sure we can both pretend it never happened.”
They agreed to do that-pretend the kiss had never happened-but as time passed Draco noticed that even though she was acting pretty much the same, she was treating him slightly differently. There was less eye contact, and she would often leave the room to chat with her assistant.
And her assistant was also acting strangely, knocking on the door and waiting for a response before entering the room, even after Granger had told him he didn’t have to do so.
*
Fortunately for Draco, his hair wasn’t affected by the kiss.
In fact, he had more hair than he’d had in years, and according to Granger and her assistant, its quality was great.
It wasn’t long before they told him he was no longer a test subject-all that remained was for him to try a few weeks without the potion shampoo to see if it held, and then he would have to return twice more for check-ups.
It was during the first of the check-ups that things changed again. Granger was standing next to him, studying his hair, when he turned his head and looked at her. The silence between them thickened as they gazed at each other-and Draco realised that the attraction was mutual.
Before either of them could say a word, Granger flung herself at him, her lips pressing against his, responding as he deepened the kiss. He hadn’t been this close to anyone in ages, and maybe that was affecting his judgement, but he didn’t care. Her body felt nice against his, her lips were warm and soft, her tongue was wonderful as it teased him.
Draco didn’t know how far things might have gone if the assistant hadn’t knocked on the door-and for the first time both he and Granger were happy that the man hadn’t stopped knocking.
“Come in,” Granger said a few seconds later.
They all behaved as if everything was normal until the assistant left. Draco wasn’t sure if they would go back to kissing, or if they would talk about what happened and agree to forget about it.
“I don't make a habit of kissing my patients,” Granger said.
“I hope not,” said Draco. He wasn't expecting miracles, but he was desperately hoping they wouldn’t go back to ignoring what was happening between them. “But does having one remaining check-up really make me a patient?”
“Why do you ask?” she said, though Draco was sure she knew what he meant.
“Because I thought I’d ask you on a date. That is, if you’re free.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I never thought you would date a Muggle-born.”
“And I never thought I’d lose my hair, but it’s happened.”
“Are you sure you’re not just asking because you’ve been single for so long?”
“Are you sure you’re not just using our Healer-patient relationship as an excuse not to accept?”
“Aren’t you full of yourself?”
“And you aren’t?”
There were a few seconds of silence before they both laughed.
“What about the twenty eighth?” she suggested.
“Dinner?”
“No, it’s a little soon for that.”
“Then lunch, over at the new café in Diagon Alley:”
“Are you really sure you want to be seen with me in public?”
“Well, I’ve got a new head of hair, so I look pretty good.”
She laughed. “It’s a date,” she said and closed his file.
*
Draco got up from his chair and put on his cloak. Just as he was about to open the door he turned and kissed her deeply, knowing that even if their relationship went nowhere, it was a nowhere which was far better than the lonely place he’d been in until that moment.
When he left the room they were both grinning like a couple of teenagers.
THE END