In Fate's Hands

Chapter one

Hermione was sitting next to Ron in the hospital room.  He wasn't doing well.  Not well at all.  He had been attacked by a dark wizard on one of his Auror missions.  They still weren't sure exactly what kind of curse he had received.  All they knew is that her husband was most likely not going to make it through the next few days.  They needed nothing short of a miracle if they had any hope of curing him.  Hermione didn't even know what to think anymore.  When he graduated from Auror training, she never really thought about the dangers of his profession.  He had only been working for six months or so.  They had graduated from their seventh year at Hogwarts almost two years before.

After the battle of Hogwarts, the "Golden Trio" returned to their second home for the last year of classes.  Hermione was made Head Girl, which was no surprise.  Ron and Harry returned to Quidditch. All returned to the pre-war state of mind, carefree students and happy teachers, no parents fearing for the lives of themselves and their children.  Everyone went through their grieving stages and was beginning to come to terms with their losses.

There had been a large memorial service just a week before honoring those that had died in the fight.  Harry was honored too, of course, with an Order of Merlin: First Class. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna all received Orders of Merlin: Second Class.  Overall it was a lovely ceremony.  Fred was honored, as were Lupin, Tonks, Colin Creevy, and even Snape.  Most were either crying or tearing up that part.  Hermione herself was crying openly with Ginny.  They held each other and sobbed together.  Even Ron had tears in his eyes by the end.  Harry just stood there, looking emotionless as always.  

Now though, everything was different.  Ginny and Harry had just left the hospital.  Now Hermione was left alone with her thoughts.  She was only half way through healing school and had absolutely no idea what to do for her husband.  This was like nothing anyone had ever seen before.  It was a totally new brand of Dark Magic.  Even the senior healers were confused.  Everything seemed rather hopeless for Hermione.





Draco walked out the front door of the Manor, bidding goodbye to his mother.  He was heading for Diagon Alley, then to St. Mungo's to visit a friend who was in critical condition.  Blaise, his best friend from their school days, had concocted a rather terrible mixture of potions ingrediants while experimenting and had blown one of his arms clean off.

Draco shook his head at his friend.  That was just like Blaise.  It definitely wasn't Draco's first time visiting him in the wizards' hospital.  

Once in Diagon Alley, Draco headed to Flourish and Blotts, looking for the newest novel in a series he rather enjoyed.  After picking that up, he went to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.  His mother was hosting a grand ball in just two weeks.  He was to wear dark green robes, as all members of the Malfoy family would be wearing this color.  Well, all except his father, who was serving a life sentence in Azkaban.  Draco sneered.  His father deserved every day he spent in that place.  Needless to say, Draco was perfectly fine with not seeing him again.

Wandering in to the robes shop, Draco picked out a very simple set of robes in the darkest forest green he could find.  He was not going to try and be flashy.  With his white blonde hair and piercing ice-blue eyes, he would stand out perfectly well without flashy robes.

Satisfied with his day's purchases, he made his way back towards St. Mungo's.




Hermione woke with a start to someone tapping her on the shoulder.  She glanced up at the nurse who wore a rather somber expression.  The news couldn't be good.  Glancing at the clock, Hermione realized she had only been asleep for half an hour.  More news so soon?  This was definitely not good.  The young witch steeled herself for what was to come, making herself a promise not to break down in front of a fellow healer.

"Mrs. Weasley?" The healer asked reluctantly. "Can you join me in the hallway for a minute?"

"Of course," Hermione stood and followed the brunette out of the hospital room.

"Mrs. Weasley, I regret to inform you that we have found no way of containing the curse."

Hermione just stared blankly back at the woman.

"There is nothing we can do for your husband now but make him as comfortable as possible.  You are more than welcome to stay here as long as you want."

"Thank you. How long?" Hermione's face was unreadable, her features a mask of emotionless nothing.

The healer cringed.  That had to be her least favorite question to answer.

"Well, ma'am, we are thinking no more than a day at this point.  It very well could be two.  It's tricky to tell with such a little known curse."

"Very well, I would like to be left alone if you please." Hermione turned back to the room and returned to the chair beside her husband.  She hadn't even noticed the only other witness to this conversation following her with his eyes full of pity.




Draco entered the hospital and walked to the front desk, telling the young blonde behind it who he was going to see.  She smiled at the handsome wizard and told him that his friend occupied a room on the third floor.  He thanked her and walked over to the stairs.

Exiting the stairwell on the third floor he saw a young-looking brunette healer leading a young witch with light brown hair, frizzed out on the ends, out of a room.  The healer had a very regretting look on her face and Draco knew this couldn't be good news.  He didn't want to interrupt, so he halted abruptly and ducked into a doorway a few feet down the hall.  Neither woman seemed to notice him as he listened in on the conversation.  

"Mrs. Weasley, I regret to inform you that we have found no way of containing the curse."

Draco looked up, startled.  Mrs. Weasley?  Then he saw her face, the face that had looked upon him with so much hurt in those chocolate brown eyes.  Even though it was years ago, that image was still imprinted in the back of his mind.  He felt a pang of regret and guilt.  Hermione.  Hermione was the 'Mrs. Weasley' standing before him.  So it was true, she had married the Weasel.

He was horrified as she just stared into the face of the healer, almost calmly.  So Ron Weasley was dying?  This was almost too much for Draco to process.  Hermione was about to be widowed.     

"There is nothing we can do for your husband now but make him as comfortable as possible.  You are more than welcome to stay here as long as you want."  Draco's face paled, and he wished he had walked past the pair long ago.  His heart went out to Hermione.  He wanted to just go to her and wrap his arms around her, tell her it would all be ok.  He knew he couldn't.  He knew this was a ridiculous thought, or longing.  He couldn't control what he was feeling though.  He wanted nothing more than to protect his childhood nemesis from the pain she was feeling.  

"Thank you. How long?" Hermione's face still held that eerie calmness.  Draco saw the look on the healer's face turn to one of great distaste at the question.

"Well, ma'am, we are thinking no more than a day at this point.  It very well could be two.  It's tricky to tell with such a little known curse."  

'Little known curse…' Those words seemed to bounce around Draco's head, echoing louder and louder.  It had to have been a curse from a death eater, or someone who still sympathized for Voldemort, even almost two years after his death.  His lip curled up in a look similar to the healers, though more pronounced.  He hated anyone who still sympathized with that… that monster.  He wished to become an Auror after the war, but couldn't due to his past affiliation with the Dark Wizards.

"Very well, I would like to be left alone if you please." With that, Hermione turned and retreated hastily back into the hospital room and the healer continued on down the hallway to check on other patients.  Draco stayed frozen on the pot.  He had a headache, and a bad one at that.  He turned and walked back down the stairs and quickly out the front doors of the hospital.  His visit with Blaise would have to wait for another time.  Right now, he had way too much to process.  He stayed cemented to that spot for a long time, receiving rather confused looked from the passers-by.  Coming out of his haze, he took off down the street.  His legs kept moving and his brain had no idea where they were taking him.  All he knew was that he couldn't stand still just then, or he would be tempted to run right back in to Hermione.  

His feet took him farther and farther away, with no destination in mind.