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In fourth year, Hermione had once come upon Draco speaking with a Firstie boy who had gotten lost. The boy was crying, and Draco had not only consoled him, but had given sound advice and an escort to the Transfiguration classroom. Draco had never known he’d been seen.
She really shouldn’t feel so surprised to find him here, in the bright blue robes of a children’s Healer.
Ginny’s youngest had come down with a nasty cold and the standard potions weren’t helping. Hermione had convinced her to bring small Lily in to see a Healer, just in case. They’d both been gobsmacked to encounter the Malfoy heir.
“Hermione, Ginny,” he nodded. He was the picture of professionalism. Not a sneer to be seen and nothing but respect on his face. He’d offered them drinks while they waited, explaining that he was not the healer in duty at present but was helping with intake as their normal assistant was out.
After confirming it was a sinus infection—“Nothing serious, mind, but have her take this potion twice a day for three days and that should sort it.”—the witches hesitated as they turned to leave.
“Draco?” Ginny was still so much more forward that she was.
His wary eyes turned to them.
“I’m happy for you. You seem…you seem like you’ve found your place.”
He smiled at them then, a real smile. His eyes brightened. “I have.”
“We should all have dinner sometime. I’m sure the kids would enjoy it.”
“I’d like that. I’ll talk to Daphne.”
With that, they nodded and left, awash with the powerful awareness that wow, they really were growing. Things were better.