Hermione wandered back to her flat slowly, she had no need to get back quickly, nor did she particularly want to. Her day had been fairly uneventful so far - but she liked it that way. There had been more than enough escapades, adventure and danger going on over the past few years to last her for a long time.

It didn't seem so long ago that she had asked to be transferred to Romania for work. She had heard so much about Romania from the Weasleys that she couldn't help but want to see it for herself. Besides, she needed to take a break, get away from home, England, and all it's connotations.

Charlie Weasley had helped her settle in at first, which she was very grateful for - especially considering recent circumstances. However, he was called away a lot, especially after the outbreak of Doxy Flu leaving the Dragon Keepers shorthanded.

As Hermione walked back through the field, a sudden movement to her right caught her attention. A Welsh Green dragon reared back on her hind legs. She had the witch in her sights and was prepared to strike. Matilda, the witch, stood on the ground, her broomstick in splinters and her wand flung far from her body. Her goal had been to administer an immunity potion, to protect the creature from Dragon Pox. Her only thought now, though, was to get away with her own life.

Usually the witches and wizards of the Dragomirna Dragon Preserve in Romania worked in teams of four, Hermione knew that from Charlie. But there had been a virulent outbreak of Doxy Flu among the dragon keepers, and an epidemic of Dragon Pox threatened the dragon population. The witches and wizards that had not yet succumbed to the flu were obliged to spread out and immunize as many dragons as possible in hopes of minimizing the spread of the one disease.

Matilda's partner was obviously not with her, for whatever reason. Hermione supposed that he or she had returned to the compound for more doses of potion. Matilda should obviously not have attempted this immunization alone, but had clearly not anticipated things going so horribly wrong.

Hermione only knew Matilda vaguely, she remembered Charlie introducing her over dinner shortly after she had arrived. She hadn't spoken to her much since then, only 'how do you do' and other niceties in passing.

What on earth should I do? Hermione asked herself, aware that she had not much time to decide. She barely knew anything about dragons - her main focus in Care of Magical Creatures had been not to get bitten, burnt, or on the receiving end of whatever Hagrid's latest pet could do, instead of memorising emergency dragon procedures.

But really, Hermione decided, she only had one choice. I wouldn't be a true Gryffindor otherwise, she thought as she ran over to Matilda, her wand at the ready.

"Stupefy!" Hermione screamed as she neared Matilda and the nearing dragon, but the spell only succeeded in angering the dragon more, smoke billowing out of its nose. "Aguamenti!" she yelled again, this time doing more than just angering the Welsh Green, accomplishing her goal and distracting it away from Matilda. Unfortunately, it didn't just distract it away from Matilda - it focused it's attention onto Hermione herself.

"Didn't think this through..." Hermione cursed - this must be one of the only times she hadn't thought her actions through and it had to be the time when it was a life or death situation.

Hermione briefly considered trying the Permanent Sticking Charm to try and stick the dragon to the ground, but she doubted it would work - besides, in the unlikely event that she managed to stick it permanently to the floor, it could still breathe fire - and Matilda didn't look up to any high-speed dragon chases. But what other spell could she use? Why did dragon skin have to be so tough?

Hermione raised her wand, staring into the dragon's eyes, which bore an uncanny resemblance to fire itself, as it descended down towards her.

"Stupefy!" half a dozen voices yelled, as the dragon slumped down as the rays of light found their marks and Hermione let out a sigh of relief. She quickly ran over to Matilda, who had fallen to the ground, looking nearly as pale as Nearly-Headless Nick.

"Are you alright?" one of the dragon tamers asked, approaching Hermione and Matilda. Hermione couldn't help but notice the burn scar running down his left cheek and the reddish patch seeping through his shirt on his right shoulder. "Ryan Naylor," he added, holding out his hand.

"Hermione Granger," she said with a weak smile as she shook his hand. "Yes, I'm okay thanks. I'm not sure about Matilda though." Hermione looked over with concern at the woman next to her, who, although she was blinking and looked a little less dazed, still didn't seem to have regained any colour or strength.

The dragon keeper crouched down next to Matilda, looking into her eyes and taking in her somewhat dishevelled appearance. "Yes, it's as I thought - Dragon Pox," he explained, turning back to Hermione. "It's lucky you came when you did and held that dragon off - there's no way she could have tackled it on her own, especially not with the Pox."

"But Dragon Pox isn't that serious, is it? I mean, they found a cure for it the 16th century, it's easily dealt with," she pointed out, dredging up facts from her memory. Ryan smiled at her before conjuring up a stretcher for Matilda.

"Normally, no, you're right. But something's happened or mutated - this isn't regular Dragon Pox. We don't know what it is, or much of what it does, and until we find that it's pretty hard finding the cure. Nearly everyone's down with it round her, it's getting worse all the time. What with that and the lack of people or facilities round here to help, we're pretty much at a loss for what to do - and the dragons themselves are getting worse too. I'm sure everything will work out though, I mean they've found a cure for the original one, I'm sure they will for this too," he added quickly, realising he must have scared Hermione by the startled look on her face. However, his words didn't sound convincing. "The best thing - the only thing - to do now is to take her back to camp. Hopefully they'll be able to help..." With that, he picked up his broom and prepared to return to his companions who were nearly finished dealing with the Welsh Green.

"Wait! Aren't you coming back too?" Hermione asked, seeing that he had no intentions of accompanying her and Matilda back, and besides, he looked injured himself.

"No, we're short staffed as it is at the moment, and we have six more dragons to immunise before sunset - and likely as not, people to save from the dragons or the Pox - whichever gets them first! Good luck," he called over his shoulder with a wry smile as he flew off.

Hermione sighed, wondering if she had jinxed herself from the beginning, thinking things might have settled down for her now. She walked beside Matilda's stretcher, somewhat pacified by the fact that she seemed to be resting.

When they finally reached camp, Hermione was nearly as shocked as when she had heard Ryan tell her an epidemic may be on the loose. The camp seemed to be in pure chaos - only the Weasley twins were nowhere in sight to have been at the cause of it, which they usually were when things got messy. But this looked serious. There were people running about everywhere, loose potion bottles rolling around, trails of gauze and bandages lying forgotten at bedsides whist Healers hurried to attend to the groaning patients.

"What's happened?" Hermione couldn't help but gasp, only everyone was far too rushed and troubled to welcome her.

"No one knows, that's the problem," a deep, dry voice answered from a bed to her left. Hermione looked at the man, who could have been fairly young, but experience and wounds added on years to his eyes. "If it's the Pox, something's gone terribly wrong. If it's something else, no-one can figure out what exactly it is. Whatever it is, nothing seems to be helping. A few of us are recovering, but only very slowly. Far more aren't. That your friend, there?" he asked, looking over to Matilda's listless body on the stretcher still hovering behind Hermione. Hermione nodded silently, still taking in her surroundings. "Then you best get her out of here."

"But this is the camp! Where else should I take her - there are Healers here, and help! Surely this is the best place for her?"

The man snorted, almost smiling at her naivety. "Look around you! Do really consider this help? No, you'd be far better off taking her somewhere - anywhere - else, where she can recover." Hermione shook her head, but even as she did, she could see the sense in the man's words. The few Healers that were there were young and harassed, she could see worry-lines on their foreheads that shouldn't have taken residence there for a good few more years. She could see tears prickling in the eyes of Healer and patient alike as the uselessness sank in, though they fought it with all there might. She may not have known Matilda for very long, but she couldn't have saved her from that dragon just to leave her to die there.

"But - but - I'm not a Healer! I don't know what to do!" Hermione protested weakly, but even so she knew what she had to do - and she didn't like it.

"You may not be a Healer, but you're here. You say you can't help her - then take her to someone who can. And trust me, they won't be here. You look like a bright girl, you'll find a way."

The trouble for Hermione wasn't finding the way - that she already knew. The trouble was accepting it. Come on, Matilda's health is what's important here, Hermione reminded herself as she thanked the man and left unnoticed. And the one place she might actually get better is St. Mungo's. Plus, if they manage to heal her, they could heal everyone in Romania! Think about what's more important here, Hermione. Saving hundreds of people's lives, or your own problems. So, it means going back to London - facing what you just ran away from. You're a Gryffindor! You're not supposed to run away from things! You're supposed to face them! Growl at them, even! Hermione tried to convince herself as she walked away, keeping a watchful eye on Matilda. But what if there's somewhere else that could heal her? I'm sure London isn't the only hospital in the wizarding world... Even if it is the one with the best staff and facilities, and with the best chance of helping Matilda... Hermione sighed. There was no way of getting around it. She would have to go back to London, even if going back to London did mean going back to what she had been trying to avoid for the past few months...

"But how on earth am I going to get there?" Hermione asked aloud, though immediately regretting it as Matilda's eyelids flickered. There was no way Matilda was going to be well enough to Apparate, and she didn't have any Floo Powder, let alone fireplaces!

"Hermione?" Matilda's voice drifted up from where she had woken on the stretcher. "It is Hermione, isn't it?" she asked, making sure she had her rescuer's name correct, reminding Hermione of how little they actually knew each other.

"Yes, Hermione Granger. Are you felling alright?" Hermione inquired gently, stopping so that the stretcher lay still.

"I'll live," she said in an effort to sound upbeat. Hermione tried to smile back, but those words struck her in how they may not come true, Ryan's words echoing in her mind of how no one knew what to do, that things were getting worse all the time...

"Right, well we have to get you back to L - London, St. Mungo's," Hermione told her, making her decision for definite now - she couldn't go back on her word. Besides, doesn't a part of you secretly almost want to go back there? Hermione asked herself, though immediately banishing the thought from hr brain. "But how to get there... Come on, this is Romania, not the Stone-age..." However, it may as well have been, the Dragomirna Dragon Preserve was an extremely remote area. Hermione could see that Matilda needed immediate attention, but how on earth could she get her to London quickly without Apparating or Floo?

"There must be something round here..." Hermione wondered aloud as she looked again at her surroundings. It was then that she saw it. "Oh no. No, no, no, no, no!" For the answer was right in front of her. In fact, the answer was all around her. But how Hermione hated flying... Especially on Dragons.

"Uh - Hermione? I'm really sorry, but I don't think I'm going to be able to fly - especially on a dragon - right now. Maybe after I get some rest..." Matilda said quietly, looking down. Hermione could see how much she resented not being able to be active or have control. She could also see how pale Matilda still looked, and how even after a good night's rest she wouldn't be able to fly. And Hermione couldn't say that she didn't feel relieved that she herself wouldn't be forced to fly after all. "But there's a Floo station in the city, it's not too far, only about half an hours walk."

"Great! Which way is it?" Hermione asked, happy at the thought of not having to let her feet leave the ground, especially since it was growing steadily darker. She wondered if Ryan had managed to find and immunize the dragons yet, for sunset would surely be soon.

"Well, after you pass the largest Poplar tree opposite the Trainee Hall, you head straight on until you reach the old bear mound, then take a left at the singed rock shaped like a kneazle. Then you start to see some buildings and civilization and you're basically there!" Matilda dictated, closing her eyes to picture the route in her mind.

"I see..." Hermione furrowed her brow, trying to recall all the directions. "So - where is the trainee hall? I've only been here a month," she explained apologetically.

"Well seeing as I've been asleep for most of the journey, I have no idea where the trainee hall is from here! Or even where 'here' is for that matter!" Matilda snapped, rolling her eyes at Hermione - which she did not fail to see.

"Well, excuse me! Might I remind you whom is helping whom here?" Hermione retorted, glaring down at Matilda, who had raised herself into a sitting position. "Fine - if you're going to be that way I'll just leave, you can find your own way to London!"

There was a minute of silence in which both women stood and sat respectively, both with their arms crossed and there stares elsewhere. Eventually Matilda relented, turning to face Hermione's back.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "But I just hate being so helpless. I mean - I'm usually out fighting dragons, risking life and limb, flying around flames. I'm not used to not even being able to walk by myself for fear of falling. Look, the town is always due north from the centre, so if we head that way we should be okay."

Hermione accepted the apology with a nod of her head, and turned back to face her companion. "Okay - so which way's north?" She let out a sigh as Matilda shrugged. "Well, it's not that big of a problem - where's the North Star?" Again, Matilda shrugged.

"I was always more into Quidditch and Care of Magical Creatures than Astronomy!" she said defensively.

"Well I've done five years of Astronomy, and got a good grade in my OWL, so hopefully we should manage," Hermione told her, looking up at the stars that were beginning to reveal themselves.

"You know, there's more to life than just getting grades," Matilda said softly, but either Hermione was too busy concentrating on the constellations to listen to her remark, or she simply chose not to hear.

"Aha! No, wait..." Matilda found it very had not to laugh at Hermione's face as she squinted up at the stars. "It's hard - I'm only used to the positions from England!" Hermione burst out after Matilda's third laugh-turned-cough. "Look, is that the Big Dipper?"

For the first time since she had been diagnosed with Dragon Pox, Matilda found having to stay on a stretcher useful, as she could look up at the sky with ease, not getting neck ache from craning her head backwards, or being pricked with twigs and brambles from lying down on the ground to get a better look.

"Which one's that? The one that sort of looks like a rabbit, or the one that looks like a pan? Or is it a wheelbarrow?" Matilda asked, turning her head from side to side to try and decipher the stars glistening down upon her.

"The wheelbarrow one." Hermione closed her eyes, trying to remember nights at the top of the Astronomy Tower, or the evening she had spent before her OWL revising the planet movements. "If I'm right, then we have to line up Meerkat? No - Merak - and the one above it, you see on the far side of the wheelbarrow? Well, if we align those two points, then it should point to the north star, which points north!" Hermione announced triumphantly. And the boys had told her that learning the positions of all the different stars was about as useful as being able to predict which colour hat Neville would wear by how many tea leaves were left after an hour (a load of codswallop), or knowing the name of the leader of the fifth goblin rebellion (Ugg the Unafraid - although Hermione had to admit that hadn't come in useful yet)!

She was smiling the whole walk there.

---

"Are we there yet?" Matilda asked. Hermione shot her a glare, before looking around them again.

"How should I know! I've never been here before! I'm just following the star!"

"Isn't that a song?" Matilda asked, with a grin. Hermione scowled, Matilda could have been a Weasley for her ability to wind Hermione up, and for the amount she enjoyed it. "Where are we now?" Matilda continued in a singsong voice. Hermione took a deep breath.

"We are in a forest. We are next to a tree. In fact, we are next to a lot of trees. And we are right in front of a Loch - oh dear." Hermione held out her wand to see exactly how big the Loch was, and was not too pleased by what she saw.

"What? What is it?" Matilda asked in all seriousness. In fact, it was that more than anything that scared Hermione, the fact that Matilda obviously knew what the Loch meant, and it was bad enough to stop her being a rather persistent thorn in Hermione's side.

"You tell me!" Hermione noticed how her voice had gone a few octaves higher. "Okay, I see some mud, a lot of water, a rather large log and some flies. What does that mean?"

"Oh, okay, that's not so bad," Matilda said, trying to sit up properly, but failing. Seeing that, Hermione immediately felt guilty for getting annoyed with her; the Dragon Pox was obviously taking effect. "Um - exactly how much mud is there?"

"Not too much," Hermione said optimistically, not really wanting to take another look at the rather dark, dungy, ominous looking Loch. The noises coming from it weren't too comforting either.

"And how big is the log?"

"Quite long, about 50 feet or so? It dips under in places, but I'm assuming it's all the same log, as you can see parts of it through the water. We could probably jump from one to the other, but it might be slippery..."

"Aha." It was clear Matilda was trying to mask the negativity of whatever she knew, but was failing in her attempt to sound upbeat. "Well, the good news is that the mud is not, in fact, a huge nest of rabid sea-slugs." Hermione nodded, but she had an inkling of what was coming next... "And the bad news is that we won't be able to make our way across on the log. Because it's not a log. It's a sea serpent."

"Oh. A sea serpent. I see." Both the girls were making a remarkable effort to stay calm, but both decided that less is more in their speech, for if they said more, the calm tones in their voice that they fought so hard to keep were very likely to turn hysterical. "So," Hermione stated. "We need to get across the Loch. However, there is a sea serpent in there who will likely as not eat us if we try to cross its path. The sea serpent is rather large, and so avoiding it will be near impossible. We don't want to be eaten, however we do need to get across the Loch. What do we do?" The way Hermione said it, it sounded more like a logical puzzle one might find in quizzes or game-shows. However, this was rather more serious than winning five points for Gryffindor in the end of term quiz.

"Actually, it's a common misconception that sea serpents are dangerous. In fact, there have been absolutely no known cases where they've eaten anyone!" Matilda explained, her light tone contrasting with her darkened expression.

"Oh, that's good. So we could make it across safely then?" Hermione asked, though when she looked over the murky waters, and the sea serpent which seemed to be edging closer to them all the time, it didn't look very appealing.

"No. You see, the sea serpents don't eat you, they knock you off balance and send you down to the bottom of the Loch, where you will either be suffocated my seaweed or attacked by Grindylows. And, whilst there haven't been any known cases where they've eaten anyone, there have been five unknown cases..." Matilda drifted off, her voice starting to quaver.

"I'm sorry - what was your point again?" Matilda shrugged. "Right... So, how do you docile a sea serpent?" Matilda shrugged again, much to Hermione's exasperation. "I thought you said you were good at Care of Magical Creatures! Remember - Astronomy wasn't really your thing, you were always more into Quidditch and Care of Magical Creatures!"

"Yes, well, school was a long time ago! I was always better at practical than theory..." Matilda tried to justify herself, ignoring Hermione's piercing glare.

"And you don't call this practical?" Hermione basically shrieked, not unaware of the still approaching sea serpent. Its head was now emerging from the green slime, and its even greener eyes did not look happy to have been awoken by this hysterical screaming.

"No - I call this a nightmare!" Matilda retorted, lying back down properly and closing her eyes.

"What are you doing? Sleeping is not the answer!" Hermione yelled, to no avail. "Wait - maybe it is..." Hermione grinned suddenly, as she was stuck with an idea. The sea serpent couldn't do them any harm if it was asleep - except for snoring at them, which she decided they could take. Concentrating hard, she used all her effort to charm it into a bewitched sleep. Hermione remembered when the spell had been used on her in her fourth year for the second task of the Triwizard tournament. She felt immensely glad for her thirst for knowledge that had inspired her to learn the spell herself after it had been used on her.

Once she was satisfied that the sea serpent wasn't going to wake up - not for a good few hours, at least - she tentatively trod on it's back, and waving the stretcher along behind her, proceeded to make her way across the Loch.

I hope we get to somewhere with the Floo network soon, she thought, attempting to smile at Matilda as she saw her wake.I used up too much of my energy on that sleeping spell - I don't know what will happen if I have to do it again...

Hermione gasped with relief as they reached dry ground. She fell down on the ground with a thump and a smile on her face. Matilda wasn't quite as happy, as Hermione's sudden movement meant her stretcher wobbled perilously close to the waters edge.

"Do you mind collapsing somewhere a little more comfortable, and a little less cold?" Matilda asked edgily, not sharing Hermione's evident relief. Whether this was because she knew better or because of the Pox, Hermione didn't know, but reasoned that neither outcome could be good.

"Like where exactly? That large tree over there? Or how about the patch of dried out mud?"

"Or how about civilization? Look, there's light and buildings over there, I'm sure we can find somewhere to stay," Matilda suggested wearily. Hermione could tell that the illness was getting to her, and their trek probably hadn't helped. As they made their way closer, they could hear shouts and laughter among the light from the windows that guided them.

"Stoker's Den," Hermione read out as she glanced up at the sign handing above their heads. "Do you know it?" She could tell from Matilda's expression that she did, and the outlook, once again, didn't look good.

"Yes," she said evasively. "But, well, it's not the most hospitable of places... It's actually known for housing vampires," she explained.

"Well, it's not exactly as if we have much choice - we both need rest," Hermione pointed out. Besides, I've braved murderous chess pieces, giant snakes, Death Eaters, werewolves - how bad can a few vampires be? Of course, Ron and Harry were always with me before... The sight of Matilda rolling off her stretcher, and pulling herself to a standing position interrupted Hermione (a fairly welcome interruption, if she were to be honest) from her thoughts.

"Matilda, what are you doing? I'm sure you'd be better lying down..." She drifted off as she caught the look in Matilda's eyes. It was one of fiery pride, and all at once, Hermione understood her intentions. Had the roles been reversed, she was sure that she would have done the same thing.

"I'm not going to go in there as some invalid - I'm feeling better now anyway," Matilda lied, but Hermione accepted it with a nod as she pushed the pub door opened, and the two walked inside.

Hermione could see the customers and lodgers watching her and Matilda suspiciously, some licked their lips hungrily - most of them seemed to have their eyes on Matilda. Hermione fought to hold back a shudder. She could think of a hundred other places she would rather be right then, but there was nothing she could do about it. Both she and Matilda were tired and desperate - they could either take their chance and stay there to recuperate, or lose to whatever awaited them outside.

Besides, they were bound to be connected with the Floo network, so hopefully St. Mungo's wouldn't be too far away from their future - though Hermione wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing.

A pale woman with straight black hair approached them, almost leering at Matilda.

"What will it be?"

"A room please," Hermione answered warily.

"Would you like a drink first? It's on the house. Your friend looks like she needs one."

Hermione eyed her suspiciously, she didn't trust her and there were rumours about this place... She could tell that many of them were true by the look on Matilda's face and the expressions and appearances of some of the less presentable clients there. She slowly accepted the key and paid the woman. "No thank you, I need my rest, big day tomorrow."

"You know ... your friend reeks of death ... we can help her."

Hermione felt all eyes from the room looked intently at Matilda. Again, Hermione felt another wave of pity wash over, and strengthened her resolve to be more patient. She shook your head politely, "No thank you."

The landlady led them up to their room, and showed them the bathroom and the fire exits. As soon as she left, Matilda collapsed onto the bed, and it took all the will Hermione had not to do the same.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, as she took a further look around their quarters for the evening. Their room was drab, to say the least. There seemed to be more holes than curtain on the remnants of grey fabric drawn over the window, and the beds looked like they had definitely seen better days. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if they'd housed werewolves as well as vampires recently too.

"Yes. What are you doing - have you lost something already?" Hermione appeared to be hunting through the drawers, under the bed and even behind the curtains (although she could already see that, nothing was hidden behind the holes).

"No - I'm looking for something to protect us! There are a load of vampires down there, you can never be too careful!" Hermione said from behind the mirror. "Aha!"

"What? What have you found?" Matilda asked eagerly, propping herself up against the bed.

"Some spare sheets!" Hermione said gleefully, holding them up for Matilda to see.

"That's...great, Hermione. But you do know we already have some on the beds - and there are a bunch of vampires waiting downstairs to eat us!" Matilda shrieked.

"I know! We can use these sheets to protect us from the vampires! I had an old Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who used to wear a turban to protect him from vampires," Hermione explained, wrapping the sheet around her head, before moving over to do the same to Matilda, much to her obvious displeasure.

"Hermione, this looks stupid!" she pointed out. "What does a sheet do to protect us from vampires anyway?"

"Well... All I know is that vampires never attacked Quirrell! Although, now I come to think of it, Quirrell was actually wearing that turban to hide Voldemort..." Hermione trailed off on seeing Matilda's shocked expression, and quickly went back to her original train of thought. "But he still didn't get attacked by vampires!"

"Right," Matilda agreed scathingly. "Well, in that case, we should...wear these socks on our ear! No, seriously! My cousin wore a sock on his ear - his right ear, mind you, I'm not sure if it works as well on your left - and he never got attacked by vampires either!" As if to prove her 'point', Matilda proceeded to put a pink, fluffy sock on her right ear. "You see! I'm not getting attacked, am I?" She handed the other sock to Hermione, who looked at it in disbelief.

"You're not serious?" she asked, only to have Matilda nod gleefully back at her.

"Come on, I'm wearing the sheet," she pointed out. Hermione rolled her eyes, but remembered her resolve to be more patient with Matilda, and resignedly put the sock on her ear. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, with a scowl.

"It's a shame we don't have any pineapples," Matilda continued. Hermione began to suspect that Matilda was taking advantage of her new found sympathy, but before she could find out what pineapples would do, a loud series of knocks could be heard on the door.

"Pretend to be asleep!" Matilda hissed, her sheet slipping down over her sock as she jumped at the noise.

"No, it's best we just see what they want. I'm sure it'll be fine..." Hermione replied, trying not to show her fear at the memory of all those hungry vampires... One of which whom was standing right in front of Hermione as she opened the door. He was quite tall and gaunt, with almost grey eyes matching his pale complexion.

"Hello," he said with a smile, a red speck on his white teeth making a huge contrast with the rest of his colourless appearance. "I am Vlad, it is very nice to be meeting you," he said, three glasses in one hand, and a bottle in another. Hermione nearly paled to the same extent as the vampire's natural colour.

"Vlad? As in - Vlad the Impaler? As in, the real Prince Dracula?" she asked in a whisper. "Dad always told me not to read those books, that they'd come back to haunt me one day..."

"No, no - I am Flad, as in vloor, vhich ve stand on," Flad said, making an effort with the pronunciation, though his accent making the letter 'f' sound the same as a 'v'.

"Oh, I see," Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "You know, you have a little something there," she gestured to his teeth.

"Ah, yes... It must be vrom my drink," he said, looking down at the bottle and glasses in his hands. "Which I came to share vith you - your vriend looks like she could use some - she does not look so vell," he noted, looking over at Matilda with a small smile.

"No, we're okay, thank you," Hermione said, standing firmly in the doorway so he couldn't enter any further.

"Are you sure? Vor, I veel that your vriend vould greatly benefit vrom some blo - vine!" Flad suggested, moving to set the drinks down on the small table, but Hermione blocked his way.

"No - really, I think we're okay, but we do need some sleep, so if you don't mind..." But it looked as though Flad did mind. "Er - what if the sun comes up? You know, it looks like it's beginning to rise." Hermione looked over towards the holes (or curtains as they used to be).

"I do not think it is time yet," Flad said, although Hermione could sense the discomfort in his voice. Using that, she walked over to what was left of the curtains, and lifted them slightly so she could get a better look.

"Well, the sky is turning a pale orange colour, is that the sun there? I suppose a better question is, can you afford to risk it?" she turned back to face Flad with a smile, her eyebrows raised.

"Vell," he seemed to be considering the matter, taking a few tentative looks at the holes. "I think so. After all, I am not dead."

"Yet," Matilda said softly.

"Vhat?" he asked sharply, causing both the girls to jump, Hermione scowled at Matilda, thinking fast.

"Met! Matilda said, have you met - um - my, sock!" Hermione blurted out, ignoring Matilda's snorts as she pulled the sock off her ear. "This is my sock puppet - Mr. Sock - y," she added. "Mr. Socky." Flad looked considerably confused, but Matilda seemed to be rather enjoying how the scenario was turning out.

"Your - sock puppet? Vhich you keep on your ear?" he asked slowly, not sure if his ears were working properly.

"Yes. My enchanted sock-puppet, Mr. Socky. Say hello, Mr. Socky," Hermione said through gritted teeth, waving her wand at the sock, which sprung to life. There goes my last bit of magic 'til I get some sleep - on a sock puppet. What is the world coming to? This might be worse than Voldemort...

"I see... I think I need to leave now. Please be getting better soon," Flad said, looking rather disturbed as he backed out of the room. Hermione wasn't sure if that last comment was aimed at her or Matilda.

---

Hermione yawned as the sunlight streamed in through the holes in what used to be the curtains. Her first thought was to make sure they hadn't been attacked by vampires, but it seemed that 'Mr. Socky' had seen them off for good, as he stood guard by the door. She looked over to Matilda, who was still asleep, and debated briefly about whether to wake her or not. Eventually, she decided on not and just made enough noise rummaging about the room so that she would wake 'unintentionally'.

"Mr. Socky?" Matilda mumbled, her eyelids flickering. "Just five more minutes..."

"Matilda! Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Hermione asked as she pulled back the bare bits of fabric that were left on the 'curtains'. Matilda groaned, pulling the duvet over her head to block out the light. "Matilda? Oh dear Merlin - did the vampires get you?" Hermione shrieked, immediately realising what she'd done - exposed her friend to light.

"What?" Matilda groaned, peeking over the covers. "Oh - no!" she giggled, realising Hermione's assumptions. "The vampires didn't get me - I think Mr. Socky saw to that! I'm just not much of a morning person."

Hermione found that to be true as she hurried her to get ready, but eventually they made it downstairs to the main area of the pub - and the fireplace. Hermione also found that the rest of the clientele seemed to be giving them a rather wide berth, but she found their suspicious - and slightly scared - glances fell on her more than Matilda. She decided not to dwell on that as they made their way over to the fireplace.

"Okay, so you think you'll be okay at St. Mungo's? Hermione asked, with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "You will remember to owl me, right?" Matilda gave her a very curious look, as if Hermione was speaking in code.

"Hermione? What are you talking about - aren't you coming with me?" Matilda had the same look on her face as when she admitted that the Dragon Pox was getting to her, that she wasn't strong anymore. A look that showed she was vulnerable and afraid. A look that made Hermione feel as mean as if she were ripping up an orphan's teddy bear.

"Well - I mean, you can manage, right? And I have a lot of work to do..." Hermione trailed off, wondering if her excuses sounded as weak out loud as they did in her head. As if to prove her point, Matilda snorted.

"Oh right, so much work to do that you can just take off for a day and night, without any owls flocking round you, telling you that everything's falling apart because you're taking another few hours off to make sure a friend doesn't die," Matilda stated sardonically. Hermione scowled, knowing that her excuses sounded as weak out loud as they did in her head. "What are you so afraid of?"

That startled Hermione. She looked at Matilda quizzically, like the way Matilda had looked at her when she had hinted that she wasn't coming.

"Excuse me?"

"What scares you so much that you just hear the words 'St. Mungo's' or even 'England' I noticed earlier, and make you want to back away with a ten foot barge pole? I mean, you can face the Lock Ness Monster, no problem, but you can't set foot in a fireplace?"

"I'm not scared - I mean, it's complicated - wait, Lock Ness Monster? When did I face the Lock Ness Monster?" Hermione asked accusingly, although she was quite happy to have been able to turn the conversation around.

"It doesn't matter... I mean, a sea-serpent's a sea serpent, it doesn't matter about fancy names... But anyway, what are you so afraid of that you don't want to come to St. Mungo's?"

"Nothing," Hermione said briskly, after a short pause. "I'm coming to St. Mungo's." And with that, she took a handful of Floo powder and walked into the fire.

She walked out of the fireplace and onto a mat prepared, where she hastily brushed her shoes before walking further into the reception room. She looked at the wizards and witches sitting in the old wooden chairs - there seemed to be more than normal. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if the Dragon Pox weren't just a problem in Romania. She looked at the people sitting patiently, wondering how they stood it, there were even a few faces that she recognised, but she wasn't in the mood to say 'how do you do' - especially in a hospital, where the answer was never usually good. She even thought she saw a flash of red hair up ahead, but she turned round quickly, and saw Matilda emerging from the fireplace.

They quickly joined the queue for the Enquires desk, where the plump blonde witch Hermione had become familiar with seeing in the recent years seemed to have been replaced with a bored, brown haired wizard, who looked particularly cramped behind the desk that was too small for his large body.

"Artefact Accidents, straight on and to your left," he recited to a man with half his ear hanging off. "Next!"

"Hello, we're here because my friend has - "

"Dragon Pox?" the wizard asked, looking all of sudden much more alert, and even somewhat sympathetic. "Yes, there's been an epidemic of it recently. Magical Bugs, second floor." Hermione thanked him with a smile, but internally, she pondered on his words. He was obviously familiar with the signs of the Pox - unsurprisingly as he'd said there was an outbreak of it. But what was surprising was his sympathy. He'd looked extremely fed up before, and he must see terrible things everyday, why would he be nice and understanding about Dragon Pox? Unless he knew something they didn't...

"Can I help you?" a young, blonde Healer asked.

"Yes, this is my friend Matilda, and she's got the new form of Dragon Pox," Hermione said, somewhat in a rush, willing this to be over so she could leave.

"Oh," said the Healer, the same look as the wizard at the Enquiries had coming over her face. "Well, come this way then." She led them into the Glen Systenist ward, and gestured for them to sit down on two wooden chairs. "As I'm sure you've heard, this Dragon Pox is getting out of hand. It wouldn't be so bad if we knew exactly what it was - but to be honest, we don't. We're working on cures all the time, many of which work more effectively for the original Dragon Pox, but as of yet, we haven't found one that works for this. At the moment, it seems to be just a mutated form of the original Dragon Pox, and so shares many of the symptoms and effects - only they are a bit more severe. Basically, your reactions will slow down, you might get some nasty scarring, you'll feel more tired, some of your limbs won't work as effectively, your eyesight won't be as sharp..." the Healer trailed off, seeing the looks on both Hermione and Matilda's face.

"Am I - am I going to die?" she whispered. Hermione held back a sob just hearing those words - she knew now why the Enquiries wizard had looked and acted like he had. The Healer still bore the same kind of expression.

"Well, we are working on new cures all the time," she tried to say reassuringly. "But so far we haven't had much progress... But we found a cure for the original form of Dragon Pox, I'm sure we'll find one for this. Would you like to stay here? I'm sure we can find you a bed." Matilda shook her head, tears now falling fast down her face. "Very well, then. We'll keep you updated by owl if there are any breakthroughs. Miss, do you mind coming over here with me and filling out some forms?" The Healer asked Hermione. Hermione just nodded mutely, following her over to a corner.

"How long?" Hermione asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

"Well, from what I've seen so far, I'd say your friend has about another two weeks until it starts getting critical. I'd suggest she enjoy herself as much as possible now, then bring her back in two weeks, or if her condition worsens considerably. We can give her a bed and round the clock assistance, but other than that..." The Healer drifted off, knowing that sometimes things were better unsaid. Hermione nodded, feeling the tears prickling in her eyes, and signed a few forms quickly before returning to Matilda.

"Come on, I'll take you home," she said, helping her up. "I'm sure everything will be fine, I mean, they are working all the time, and they're all very smart -"

"Please. I'm sure they're smart, but so am I. I know the outcome, don't patronise me. I - I'm sure that -" Matilda's icy edge seemed to deteriorate, as she broke down into tears.

"Ah, what's wrong fair maiden?" a medieval wizard called out from a portrait they had just passed, making the girls turn back. Hermione immediately recognised him as the same portrait that had informed Ron he had spattergroit, and if the situation had been different, she might have managed a laugh.

"Dragon Pox - there's nothing they can do," Matilda replied, her voice rising.

"Never say never - and never fear!" he said, in what Hermione assumed was meant to be comforting. "You would be seeking Hippocrates!"

"Who's Hippocrates?" Matilda asked, although Hermione recognised the name.

"Where can we find his portrait?" Hermione asked, knowing how short of time they were, not wanting to waste even a second for explanations.

"I sing of a tale worthy of myth and legend,
Few who doubted were later enlightened.
I tell the story of how St. Mungo came to be,
An apparition that Bonham had come to see.

Grecian wizard of the past was this great man,
Through him Mungo Bonham's vision hath began.
When the hospital was built, Hippocrates' ghost was at peace.
Bondage upon his soul, this world hath finally release.

A portrait of this ghost is all we have now,
One summer night is all that nature would allow.
A night he'll come to share his boundless knowledge,
The only time when this ghostly portrait gain earthly passage.

Alas, we know the time but ne'er the place ...
Place whence the Healer's presence be grace.
Many-a-claim from those who saw and were helped,
Many-a-patients his healing presence hath been felt," the medieval wizard spouted, looking rather pleased with himself. Hermione looked at Matilda, and saw that although her tears were still falling, they were not as fast or hard as before, and she had even managed a smile. Hermione felt the flicker of hope that this news had revived, and was determined to build on it.

"It may be a long shot, but we have to try!" she said, turning to her friend with a smile. "Hippocrates was one of the greatest Healers in history - he practically invented medicine! But lots of his potions and techniques were lost - if anyone can help, he can." Hermione explained, answering Matilda's earlier question. "When history is forgotten, it repeats itself - going back to the routes might just be the answer! Besides, how hard can it be? St. Mungo's isn't that big..."

Chapter 4

"Right, so if we just go down here - " Hermione gestured to her left, only to see that Matilda had taken her words too literally and had actually fallen down. "Matilda! Are you okay?" She helped her up, soon realizing that a few drops of red were dripping onto her arm. "You're bleeding!" Hermione pointed out, but Matilda looked away, as if she were ashamed.

"I've been losing blood for a while now," she admitted quietly. "Hermione, I - I don't know how long I can hold out for..."

"Why didn't you say something?" Hermione asked, trying hard not to sound exasperated, which wasn't hard considering that Matilda was being very quiet and looked fairly pale.

"I didn't want to slow us down even more," Matilda explained, a look of determination returning to her eyes.

"Right, a simple Blood-Replenishing Potion should do it. Excuse me," Hermione called out to a passing Healer. "Do you have any Blood-Replenishing Potions? You see, my friend - "

"Yes, I see your friend. I work here, so if my eyesight wasn't up to scratch, I'd know how to fix it. Now, can't you see that everyone here is rushed off their feet? We don't have time for your queries - go to the Enquiries desk for that!" he snapped, walking away briskly.

"He can't just say that! He's a Healer - he's meant to help people! That was so rude!" Hermione exclaimed angrily, feeling her jaw drop open. "I mean, there's a store cupboard right there! How hard would it be for him to just get a Blood-Replenishing Potion out for us quickly, then carry on with whatever he was doing?"

"Don't worry about it. It's not as if I have long left anyway..." Matilda said dismally.

Hermione scowled, thinking hard. "Well, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself," she stated, and drew out her wand. "Alohamora!" She waved her wand at the store cupboard and eagerly went inside. "Clothes. They have about five dozen spare Healer's aprons, but no Blood-Replenishing Potions! They even have a sock," she cried in despair.

"Look, Hermione, there's obviously nothing you can do with some old aprons and a sock, and there's nothing you can do for me, so - "

"There is always something you can do for someone. There's always a way, you just have to find it," Hermione said quite coldly, quickly grabbing an old apron and tying it around her waist. "Healer!" she called out to a young girl who was walking the other way. "Healer! We have a code 34 up on the fifth floor!" she said loudly, ignoring the shocked expression on the girl's face. Hermione reckoned that she must have been a trainee, called on to help at such a dire time - it was obvious that things were getting worse.

"A - um - a code 34?" the girl repeated nervously.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and she suspected that Matilda would be laughing if she had any energy. "Yes, a code 34! Don't tell me you didn't read the handbook?" Hermione asked sternly, alarming the girl even more.

"Oh! A code 34! Right!" she said, though it was obvious she had no idea what Hermione was talking about. It was particularly obvious to Hermione, as she had just made it up. "I'll get to it!"

"Wait - before you go, where are the Blood-Replenishing Potions? I need one urgently." Hermione quickened her pace to catch up with the poor girl.

"We've run out," she replied in a whisper. "There have just been so many other things to deal with at the moment. But here's the key to the stock cupboard on the third floor, you can make a batch from the ingredients there," she said, handing Hermione a key before dashing off.

"Right, we have to go to the third floor, and look out for any stock cupboards," Hermione said, conjuring up a stretcher for Matilda, which she gladly fell down on. As they made their way to the stairs, Hermione caught Matilda looking at her with what seemed like almost admiration. "What?"

Matilda laughed, some colour seemed to have returned to her face after she lay down for a bit, and the hope of a Blood-Replenishing Potion helped to lift her spirits slightly. "That was pretty smooth, back there! I didn't know you had it in you."

"Well, I've learnt from experience. When you have a particularly vile toad of a teacher and several armed Junior Death Eaters holding you at wand-point, with several nasty curses they're just itching to try out on you - after which your nose will never quite look the same, no matter how talented a Healer is, suddenly it's quite easy to get inventive," Hermione explained with a short laugh.

"Here's one," Matilda pointed out, inclining towards a cupboard on their left. Hermione quickly checked to make sure that no-one official looking was around before trying the key. To her delight, it worked, but to her horror, there were shelves and shelves of bottles, boxes and jars, few which seemed to be labelled legibly.

"Right. Blood-Replenishing Potion. We did this in sixth year," Hermione dictated to herself, not that it was helping much. "I know you need five salamander parts, as they're used in Strengthening Solutions, and of course, if you've lost blood you'll need strength. Also, on that note, we need three drops of pomegranate juice."

"Found them," Matilda called from her stretcher, which was now floating by some of the higher shelves that Hermione couldn't reach.

"Good," she said absentmindedly, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, trying to think. "Now, I know we need a base of Pepper-Up Potion - but is it knotgrass or fluxweed?" she wondered out loud.

"Well, I can see some knotgrass, but there isn't any fluxweed..." Matilda noted, moving her stretcher from row to row.

"Oh, that's lucky, as it is knotgrass!" Hermione said enthusiastically. Matilda did not look convinced. "No, it is!" she protested. "I remembered it, because, 'You must note, it is knotgrass, for it's never not knotgrass! Fluxweed failingly fails.' You see?" Hermione asked, a broad smile on her face. "What? I took my studies seriously!" Matilda rolled her eyes, but passed down the knotgrass anyway. "And the last ingredient is some powdered moonstone, for not only bodily balance, but emotional too."

As Hermione got to work brewing, she couldn't help but worry. It was knotgrass, wasn't it? As she glanced at Matilda's hopeful expression, she couldn't help but feel a bit guilty - what if it wasn't? Being 'inventive' definitely came in handy at times...

---

"So if we turn around here," Hermione said wearily, afraid that their search wasn't getting them very far. They'd been looking for over half an hour after Matilda's Blood-Replenishing potion started to take effect, and although she was noticeably better, Hermione wasn't sure how long it would last. "Then we should find - "

"Well, look who we've found!" came a different voice, one which Hermione instantly recognised. She looked up to see the identical freckled faces of the Weasley twins grinning down at her. But for some reason, their grins didn't seem as stable as they usually were. Hermione tried to put on a smile, but was painfully aware that it was a very weak one. It could have been worse, Hermione consoled herself, hoping they weren't going to ask any awkward questions. It could have been -

"Hermione!" The other twin interrupted her from her thoughts, and Hermione thought it was George. "Long time no see, eh? Why haven't you popped by lately? We'd all love to see you." At that the twins exchanged pointed glances, which Hermione did her best to ignore, but that wasn't easy as she was also having to ignore Matilda's inquisitive gaze.

"Matilda, these are my friends, Fred and George. Or George and Fred," Hermione said, after a moment's consideration. They grinned and nodded. "Fred and George - no, sorry - George and Fred, this is Matilda."

"Wait - are you Charlie's brothers?" Matilda asked fairly enthusiastically. Hermione could bet that she had heard a lot about them. She also couldn't help but wonder if her own name had ever come up.

"That's us," Fred agreed.

"What are you two doing in St. Mungo's anyway?" Hermione asked, curiosity overcoming her. "Shouldn't you be out causing chaos somewhere?" she continued wryly. The twins exchanged further glances at that, and seemed to be having an argument in their eyes, and small shakes and nods of their heads.

Fred sighed, looking serious all of a sudden. "About that, Hermione. You see - "

"I think the better question is, what are you doing here? We heard you went running off to Romania! What happened - missed us too much?" George asked lightly, but Hermione felt it sounded a bit forced. She also wondered why he'd cut his brother off - it wasn't uncommon for the twins to complete each other's sentences, but that wasn't just completion or a twin thing - that was a cover up.

"Actually, Matilda's come down with Dragon Pox. We're looking for a cure," Hermione explained, deciding to respect the twins' privacy in the hope that they'd respect hers. She wasn't sure how much more she could deal with right then. Familiar sympathetic looks came over the twins, as all facades came down.

"And have you found one?" Fred asked keenly.

"Almost. Well, we're on our way, at any rate. If only we could find the way... We're looking for a portrait that can help us, Hippocrates. He was a great ancient Healer who practically discovered medicine. If anyone can help us, he can. The only problem is, we don't know where his portrait is."

"We'll help," Fred said quickly, not even needing to look at his brother to know how they both felt. Hermione couldn't help but smile; any help couldn't hurt.

"If you want us to," George added.

"Of course! That would be great, thank you." She smiled at the twins and Matilda, feeling the flicker of hope still burning. "Just be on the lookout for an old portrait or a man who has a long grey beard, probably medieval, dressed in old fashioned clothes who looks wise, and probably a bit ghostly - "

"How about an annoying witch in long purple robes, blonde curls so rigid someone must have tried to hex her nose, but missed - "

"Though it is pretty hard to miss - "

"And who has talons instead of fingernails?" Fred finished. Hermione looked at the twins strangely, though with some of the stuff they came up with, this was almost normal.

"No, we definitely want a wizard," Hermione stressed. "Not that a witch couldn't do it as well normally, but this is a particular person who we're - "

"No, Hermione, there is actually a witch of the description we just gave you, who, unless I'm very much mistaken - which isn't often, let me tell you - is Rita Skeeter," Fred explained calmly.

Hermione held back a gasp, peeking through the drapes which separated the ward they were in and the one Rita Skeeter was currently scouring. The woman looked unchanged; her nails – or talons, as Fred had more accurately described them – were still vivid red and capable of scraping any story out of the barrel. Her beady eyes were eagerly looking everywhere for something – or someone, Hermione couldn’t help but think.

"I bet she's looking for me," Hermione whispered, careful not to take her eyes off Rita, for she was well aware of her ability to disappear and fly away - or nearer - at any given moment. "She's been out to get me since fourth year, especially after - " Hermione broke off, not sure how much she should say. However, the twins seemed to understand her silence from earlier, and didn't probe. Matilda was another matter.

"Especially after what? You know, Hermione, all the time I'm finding out new things that I'd never have guessed - or more often, I'm not finding out new things. I mean - "

"Don't worry," Fred hastily interrupted. Hermione quite liked her newfound allegiance with them. "We'll distract her for you."

"Yes, what do you want us to do?" George asked. A grin began to form over Hermione's face.

"Well..."

---

"Hello, Miss, can we help you?"

Rita turned to see two identical young men in Healer's aprons. One was also wearing a sock on his right hand, but she decided to ignore that. She also decided to ignore the rather wicked grins on their faces, which in hindsight might not have been entirely wise...

"Yes, I'm looking for Hermione Granger. Do you happen to know which ward she might be in?" she asked in the sickly sweet voice which she always used when trying to get a scoop, making Hermione cringe from behind the drapes where she was spying.

"Hermione Granger?" Fred asked, looking at George as they both scratched their chins, thinking. "Yes, I saw her in the Dai Llewellyn ward a while ago."

"A few years ago to be precise. But she was in the Janus Thickey ward more recently." George added, trying to hide a grin as he tried to look thoughtful and sincere.

"Yes, that was at Christmas, wasn't it?" Fred said enthusiastically.

"What use is it to me if she was there at Christmas?" Rita asked in aggravation, studying the twins to see if they were serious.

"Oh no, not this Christmas!" George corrected with a laugh. Fred chuckled with his brother, which made it seem as if they were sharing a private joke. "That was - ooh, how many years ago, Fred?"

Rita peered over the top rims of her jewelled glasses and narrowed her eyes at the twins, who seemed absorbed in their discussion of exactly how long ago it was. They had decided on how many years, and were in the middle of debating whether it was four or five months when Rita interrupted. "I am not finding this at all helpful," she spat, tapping her foot. Clearly she was not in a good mood - mention of Hermione did that always seemed to darken her day. "I have a good mind to speak to your supervisor, or write an article confirming the incompetence of St. Mungo's staff. I can see it now - "

"No!" Fred interrupted, looking genuinely afraid. "Have you tried the Enquiries desk?" Rita's foot-tapping increased.

"How about we offer you a heath enhancing sweet? Free of charge," George tempted, holding out a round, gold wrapper. "It's a prototype, but it's supposed to ward away germs and viruses - very useful for the Healers, as we're always exposed to them. Much more effective than Pepper-Up Potion, and without that pesky steam to ruin your hair."

Rita petted her curls fondly before swiftly accepting the sweet, letting the wrapper fall to the floor. Matilda watched on, fascinated by the scene unfolding in front of her. Hermione giggled, knowing what was coming next, but still delighting in seeing it. If anyone deserved to be pranked, it was Rita.
Hermione stuffed her hands in her mouth to keep from laughing out loud as Rita let out a shrill scream, blood dripping down her broad chin and staining her mauve robes. Her hands flailed in the air helplessly as she realised she couldn't stop it, the blood was dripping from her hands onto the otherwise white floor.

"Do something!" she hissed at the twins, her face still in complete shock. "Make it stop bleeding!"

"Are you sure that's blood? I thought it was just your nails," Fred asked, leaning forward for a closer look.

"Yeah, you really shouldn't pick your nose, Rita, horrible habit," George agreed with a nod, circling Rita, who looked on the border of hysterics. "Is that one stuck up there?"

"It's not!" Rita gasped, looking even more horrified, as she eyed the twins circling her like lions that were ready to attack their prey. "Just make it go away!"

"Oh, all right," Fred relented. "Put on this hat," he instructed, pulling out an old fashioned bowler hat from the bag he was carrying. Rita grabbed it quickly and shoved it on her head.

"How exactly does this wor - Argh! My head! It's gone!" Her screams intensified, and Hermione wondered why no one was coming to see what the matter was. She supposed that other problems must be causing too much hassle, and the sight of two (supposed) Healers with the woman must have placated them enough to ignore it.

"Exactly! Now no one can see your nosebleed!"

"Or your face - it's two for the price of one!"

"Yes, speaking of price, that will be eleven sickles please."

"We'll throw in the Nosebleed Nougat for free." This seemed to be the tip of the iceberg for Rita, who charged at the grinning twins, but they retaliated by each throwing a separate hex at her. Hermione gasped - that hadn't been part of the plan. However, the sight of Rita lying powerlessly on the floor, being attacked by flying, murky green slugs was fairly comical.

"Interesting," Fred noted. "I always wondered what would happen if we combined a Slug-vomiting Charm and the Bat-Bogey Hex."

"I have to say, it's not very attractive."

"And just after she got rid of the nosebleed as well."

"How tragic."

"Very," the twins sympathised unconvincingly as they turned on their heels, leaving Rita to her own devices.

"No, I'm not sure it will sell well," George said sadly, turning back for a last look at the slayer slugs engulfing Rita's spectacles.

"You know, we should be proud of our siblings," Fred noted as they walked away.

"Yeah, I mean, Ginny inspired us to use the Bat-Bogey Hex, and the re-enacting of Ron's Slug-vomiting Charm was just too funny not to want to see it for ourselves."

"They really are a credit to us."

"I don't see why we couldn't stay and see what happened," Matilda complained, not enjoying the sensations as her stretcher levitated unevenly up the stairs.

"Because A, we didn't have time, and b, Rita might have seen us, and that's the last things we want right now!" Hermione glared. "We have a portrait to find, unless you've forgotten!" Matilda scowled straight back at her, but didn't retaliate, much to Hermione's displeasure. Neither of them were feeling particularly upbeat, as they had disagreed over how long to stay with the twins and watch Rita, and had made no progress on finding the portraits. The result was continual griping and squabbling.

"Where are we going?" Matilda asked after a few moments of silence.

"Patience is a virtue!" a portrait of an old woman called out, which did nothing to improve either of the girls' sullen moods.

"To the fourth floor, Spell Damage," Hermione answered grumpily. "I've been there before, so I basically know my way around. Hopefully we'll be quick."

She pushed open the swinging doors to the fourth floor and waved Matilda's stretcher in. As they made their way down to the end of the ward, Matilda stated how this ward seemed much quieter than the rest, and although she just nodded, Hermione knew why - that was where the permanent ward resided.

There were a few portraits there, and Hermione knew that they must be getting close to finding Hippocrates, as the witches and wizards all looked more refined, and from earlier periods in time. Hermione had to look away as they came to the Janus Thickey ward and she saw familiar faces looking blankly up at her, and she blinked away tears, busying herself across from the locked door of the ward.

"What troubles you, my dear?" a kind voice asked from a portrait hanging to her right. The wizard in it was dressed in Elizabethan clothes, a bright red doublet complete with garters and a well fit periodic jacket. "Would you like me to get a Healer to come and open the door for you?" he asked, gesturing directly across from him, at the window to the closed room.

"No," Hermione said quickly. "No, thank you." The portrait nodded understandingly. It was only that she looked up from the floor she had been absorbed in that she saw who the portrait was of. "St. Mungo!" she cried, immediately alerting Matilda, who came over on the stretcher immediately. "Mungo Bonham! You're here, of all places!"

"Yes. I like to look over the long term residents, as those are the ones who need me the most," he explained. "Can I be of service to you?"

"We're looking for the portrait of Hippocrates," Hermione told him. "It's an emergency, you see - " Mungo held up a hand to stop her.

"I know what you say by the look in your eyes. And from what I have heard from my other portraits," he added, a twinkle in his eyes before he returned to sincerity. "But I am not sure how much I can help you."

"But you're the founder of St. Mungo's!" Hermione protested. "Don't you talk to him whenever he comes round? Aren't you the one who always knows the upcoming whereabouts of the great Healer - the only one who can help us?" Mungo nodded through her anger, and smiled sympathetically when she stopped raging.

"Yes, that is all true. But, you see, I have to keep with an oath made with him that I would never directly reveal his position. Yet I see your great need and understand... a Healer's task is to help find cures and you're in need of him. If you can answer my question, I'll point you to the right direction... Would you prefer a 'mind-game' or a 'game of chance'?"

"A game of chance," Matilda answered immediately. Hermione glared at her in exasperation, though she had to admit it was starting to get too much of a habit when she was around Matilda.

"I was going to say the mind game!" she protested, but she knew it was useless, they had already given their answer.

"Yes, but I've always been quite lucky, and I quite liked Divination," Matilda explained with a small grin.

"Don't get me started on Divination!" Hermione warned. "Fine, what's the game of luck?"

Mungo Bonham placed a hand on his chin, "I'm thinking of a Healer. Which Healer?"

Matilda shrugged. "My crystal ball is in for repairs - over to you!"

Hermione racked her mind, and was about to say Hippocrates, but she stopped herself. That would be too obvious; Mungo would pick either a Healer associated with Hippocrates, or someone that the both of them knew - probably a modern day Healer who keeps a portrait of Mungo in their office. Hermione thought hard - she was determined to turn the game of chance into one of logic.

"Modern day, or medieval? Well, it would make sense to have someone associated with Hippocrates, as that is our main goal - but then, aren't all Healers associated with Hippocrates? After all, if it wasn't for him, there probably wouldn't be Healers today! And Mungo knows how desperate we are, how much we need this, so it will have to be doable - and more likely to be someone we both know," Hermione muttered to herself as Matilda nodded encouragingly. "So, why not go for the Healer who has helped me and my friends for the best six years of my life? And I know she keeps a portrait of Mungo in her office to ask for guidance, and for encouragement and inspiration, so he should know her well, I remember seeing it when the Polyjuice Potion went wrong..."

"What? You used Polyjuice Potion? And it went wrong?" Matilda asked, her eyes widening, but Hermione waved the question away.

"And I saw her ask for advice when Katie Bell touched that necklace in sixth year, and again when - " Hermione stopped, nearly feeling herself choke up at the memory, combined with the sight of the Janus Thickey ward right across from her. "She helped us then, I'm sure she'll help us now. Madam - Poppy Pomfrey," she said to Mungo, biting her lip, trying to read his expression as he said -

"Congratulations - you guessed correctly!" Mungo smiled down as Hermione jumped up and down, hugging Matilda. "Hippocrates' portrait is on the First Floor, to the side of the Dai Llewellyn Ward: Serious Bites," Mungo told them, much to Hermione's surprise.

"But that's where Mr. Weasley went after his snake bite... Of course!" Hermione exclaimed, putting her hand to her mouth. "How could I have been so stupid!"

"What?" Matilda asked, her excitement bubbling down a bit. "Don't tell me this is another one of those things you can't - or don't want to, more like - talk about!"

"No, this I can tell you!" Hermione laughed. "You see, when I was sixteen, my friend's father got bitten by a snake, and he was put in that ward."

"That's it?" Matilda asked, her eyebrows raised. "Bit of an anticlimax!"

"No, that's not it! Actually, there's more to the snake story than that - bit I can't exactly say that either..." Hermione admitted, to Matilda's laugh.

"Why am I not surprised? But how does that mean you should have known? Why, you should have remembered that it was there from all those years ago?"

"No, but I should have figured it out as soon as we found out we had to find Hippocrates. I mean, we'd already used Astrology, I should have thought about it more..." Hermione trailed off, laughing as she thought about it.

"Hermione? Can you please finish your story? Has anyone ever told you how annoying it is when you don't explain things properly?" Matilda asked, though not too harshly. "No - don't go off onto another trail of thought!" Matilda protested quickly as Hermione nodded, and she saw the vacant expression come over her face. "Finish the story!"

"Right!" Hermione laughed, coming back down to reality. "Well, as I was thinking about how to find the Big Dipper and the Merak, I had to think of all the other constellations - one of which was Ophiuchus. Ophiuchus represented Aesculapius, who was another ancient Healer - believed to be the ancestor or Hippocrates himself!"

"That's...very nice, Hermione," Matilda said, not quite sharing Hermione's excitement. "But why on earth does that mean that you should have known that's where Hippocrates portrait would be?"

"Because, the snake was Ophiuchus' symbol, for it represented to harm or heal. Ophiuchus' used it to heal. Therefore, it makes sense for Hippocrates' portrait - remember the link with Hippocrates before? - to be outside the snake bite ward!" Hermione explained, her eyes alight at having figured the problem out logically - even if it wasn't altogether necessary by then.

"You are correct again, you maiden. You might want to consider becoming a Healer yourself, if the weather falls foul of Gringotts and Romania," Mungo suggested with a knowing smile. Hermione looked up at him in surprise, her excitement having been replaced with wonder.

"How did you know that I worked for Gingotts? And in Romania?" she asked suspiciously, Matilda too caught up in the intrigue.

"I have portraits everywhere, young miss, especially in my own hospital. There has been talk, much talk of you - especially - alas, I must go! Good luck to you both!" Mungo said, before disappearing from his portrait.

"What does he mean by that?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brow as they walked back to the stairs to go down to the first floor. Matilda shrugged, wincing as her stretcher turned round the corner.

"Isn't it annoying when people don't explain themselves properly?" she quipped with a grin, though Hermione didn't seem to notice the irony, and if she did she ignored it.

Finally they got down the Dia Llewellyn ward, and Hermione could feel her pace quicken as they approached it. It was still as she had remembered, candles in bubbles lighting the way, which was necessary as there weren't many windows. The corridor was rather dingy, but Hermione supposed that the Healers had had more on their mind other than cleaning lately. As she saw the door leading to the ward, so also saw a side corridor off it, but it was hard to make out, as the bubble candle seemed to have been extinguished long ago, considering the cobwebs that surrounded it.

As they ventured along it, Hermione saw another cupboard, but that too looked like it hadn't been used in a long while. Just past it, was a portrait.

"Hippocrates?" Hermione called out, looking at the old man in the portrait, who seemed only to be wearing a white sheet and matching beard. "Hippocrates?" she tried again.

"Who awakes me from my - well deserved, I'll have you know - slumber?" the portrait asked, blinking at them. "Don't tell me it's Mungo, come for more remedies? Make them up yourself, lazy blighter!"

Hermione and Matilda exchanged glances, neither could deny that they were a little shocked.

"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione announced, stepping forward. "And this is Matilda - what is your last name? That's not important - Hippocrates, we need your help. There's a new, fatal form of Dragon Pox going around, and no-one can cure it. As the Father of Medicine, we thought that you might be able to help us." Hermione looked on nervously as Hippocrates seemed to be considering the matter.

"It is a Healers job to give help where it is needed," he said at last. "I have heard a little about this new form of Dragon Pox. They say, 'let the punishment fit the crime.' Well, I say 'let the cure fit the complaint.' Take the cure for the original Dragon Pox, along with the number of days they've been ill amount of drops of dragon's blood - say if they were ill with the Pox for three days, they would take three drops of the dragon's blood that infected them. Mix it in with the original cure - the Healers should know that at least! Then combine it with rest, fresh air and fresh fruit and you should be well on the way to recovery. And most importantly - positive thinking! If you feel there is no hope, then there will be no hope, but if you think positively, and try hard, anything can work out. Now there is a cure, there is no need for dismal thoughts, for you shall soon be well again!" The great Healer smiled at the girls' joy, and they were so busy celebrating, they didn't notice him slip away from his portrait.

"Come on, we have to go and inform the Healers of the cure," Hermione said, causing Matilda to groan as they made their way back to the stairs.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to be out of this thing," she grumbled as the stretcher lurched over a corner. Luckily it was only one flight of stairs to the second floor, where they were greeted by the same blonde Healer as they were earlier.

"Decided to stay?" she asked kindly, recognising them.

"Not exactly," Hermione said merrily, though the Healer was beginning to look quite scared at both of their cheerful expressions. "Can we speak to whoever's in charge?" The Healer nodded, looking quite glad to be rid of them - optimism seemed to be rare to the point of having to be diagnosed for some form of illness on the second floor. "And we've got to get someone over to Romania at once - "

"Hermione!"

Hermione looked up to find herself ambushed by flaming red hair and freckles, as Fred and George descended on her, leaving the door of the ward they had just left swinging back and forth, it was obvious they had run out - ignoring the 'Don't Run' signs as ever, to bombard her with questions.

"Did you find the cure?"

"What's happened?"

"Has Rita escaped?"

The last question was Matilda's, aimed at the twins, but they knew from her question that the outcome of their quest must be good, and they broke into wide grins.

"Yes - we've found the cure, everything's fine!" Hermione told them happily. "I didn't think you'd still be here... Why were you here in the first place?" she asked them, the words catching in the mouth, her breathing fast and throaty, suspicious in her voice as she looked at the still swinging doors they had emerged from. Without waiting for an answer, she moved tentatively towards the door, looking round with trepidation.

No! No, it can't be! This is exactly what you ran away from, and it caught up with you anyway. How could this have happened? It's not true, it can't be true! You left the country for Merlin's sake, how can it have caught up with you? But suppose there really is no escaping fate...

Many thanks to nutty for being such a great guide throughout, and to Mithril for validating all these chapters so quickly.

---

Hermione looked up to find herself ambushed by flaming red hair and freckles, as Fred and George descended on her, leaving the door of the ward they had just left swinging back and forth, it was obvious they had run out - ignoring the 'Don't Run' signs as ever, to bombard her with questions.

"Did you find the cure?"

"What's happened?"

"Has Rita escaped?"

The last question was Matilda's and aimed at the twins. They knew from her question that the outcome of their quest must be good, and they broke into wide grins.

"Yes - we've found the cure, everything's fine!" Hermione told them happily. "I didn't think you'd still be here... Why were you here in the first place?" she asked them, the words catching in the mouth, her breathing fast and throaty, suspicious in her voice as she looked at the still swinging doors they had emerged from. Without waiting for an answer, she moved tentatively towards the door, looking round with trepidation.

No! No, it can't be! This is exactly what you ran away from, and it caught up with you anyway. How could this have happened? It's not true, it can't be true! You left the country for Merlin's sake, how can it have caught up with you? But suppose there really is no escaping fate...

---

"Ron?" she called out quietly, walking into the ward and taking a seat by his bed. "Ron? It can't be... it's not. Is it?" Hermione could feel the torrent of tears threatening to fall as she saw his pale, limp figure lying across the bed sheets. His face was nearly whiter than the linen itself.

"Ron, what are you doing here?" she asked softly, not caring that he didn't look like he was going to be able to answer her. "So this is why Fred and George were here... I wondered why they were hanging out in a hospital all of a sudden! It doesn't really suit them. Trust me, never let those two try to be Healers again, okay? It was funny the first time, only because it was Rita Skeeter, but never again!" Hermione looked down to see if her words were having any effect on Ron. "You know, I'm really sorry about everything that happened. I'm sorry for leaving. I know we had a fight, but you have to admit that it was worse than normal, and then when you didn't return home I got so scared. Scared that something had happened to you, scared that you might have left me - scared that I might have lost you. So I left. I thought it would be easier if I left. Then maybe it wouldn't hurt so much if I did lose you. But here you are." Hermione wiped away a tear that was threatening to spill and carried on. "I don't know what to do anymore, Ron! Oh Merlin. Why are you here?"

"Well, it's not for the food. That's for sure," said a strained voice.

It was an answer Hermione hadn't been expecting, for many reasons.

"Ron?" she murmured slowly, wondering if it was her mind or the twins that were playing tricks on her.

"Hermione?" he asked back, his eyes now fully open.

"Ron!" she cried, hitting him on the arm. "You scared me! What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"You sure know how to welcome a guy, Hermione," Ron winced, rubbing his arm. "I thought hitting people in hospitals was frowned upon, anyway?"

"It is," Hermione shrugged, "but this is an extreme circumstance!"

"With us, it always is!" Ron joked, as Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Ron, what are you doing here?" she asked him with concern in her eyes. She looked completely serious as she bit her lip.

"I've got Dragon Pox. And just a few days left to live," he said bluntly.

That time Hermione wasn't able to hold back the gasp that escaped from her lips, as she reached out to take Ron's hand. Suddenly she held back, unsure of the circumstances, and how extreme they may be.

"But, how? I mean, you were in England, you were safe, you were..." Hermione trailed off after the few words she had managed to speak.

"Actually, I wasn't. I was in Romania. And, well, you saw what things were like over there. It was only a matter of time before I caught it."

"Romania? What on earth were you doing in Romania?" Hermione asked, leaning forward in her chair intently.

"Looking for you," Ron admitted, twiddling with his thumbs to avoid her gaze.

"Why is it you always end up nearly dying after we have a fight? First sixth year, now this!" Hermione said with a small laugh, but the tears had started to run down her face.

"Ah, it's because when we have a fight, it kills me inside. So it might as well kill me outside as well." Ron said lightly, but his eyes betrayed his grin.

"Well, not this time," Hermione said, a smile returning to her face. "We've found the cure. You're going to be fine." With that, Hermione stood to leave, and made it halfway across the room before Ron called out to her to stop.

"Where are you going?"

"Well, first I'm going to speak to the Healer in charge, which Matilda should have already done, but I ought to sort out a few things myself. Then I'm going to make sure Matilda's alright. Then I'm going to say goodbye to your brothers and then I'm going to leave," Hermione said shortly.

"I have so many questions," Ron held up his hand as an indication that Hermione should stop since she showed signs of carrying on right out the door. "But I'll go with the most important one. Why?"

"Why?" Hermione repeated, not altogether sure of the question, or it's answer. "Why what?"

"Why are you leaving again? You know it'll probably be another few days before I can come after you again. And what if I have a relapse? Then it could be up to a month! You know I won't be too fond of dragons after this..." Ron smiled, but Hermione said nothing. "Why did you leave in the first place? I know we had a fight, and I know it was worse than usual - but that's who we are! We fight, we bicker, we squabble, and then we make up. We're Ron and Hermione. You can't escape that! Changing your name doesn't help, trust me, I tried. You can tell I've spent far too much time with the twins these past few weeks," he said apologetically. Hermione still said nothing, so he carried on. "And I guess the most important why, is why won't you give us another chance?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake Ron!" Hermione looked close to being at a loss for words. "Why is it that the one time you become impossible to argue with is now? Normally we can argue happily into the long hours of the night about anything and everything, but now, right when I need to argue with you, it's hopeless! Yes, of course I'll give us another chance! Merlin! I can escape dragons and the Lock Ness Monster, but I can't escape you," Hermione declared with a smile as she returned to Ron's side. "Ron Weasley, you are fate. Inescapable."

"And you wouldn't have it any other way!"

"Well, I don't know about that. It does get a bit annoying that I can't escape you when I'm trying to buy your Christmas present!"

"But I had to know what you were getting me so I'd know what to get you!"

"How would that have helped? I'm not exactly going to want a Chudley Cannons chess set, am I?!"

"No, but..."