"Yes... it's bad enough with Harper. I just thought you'd be an asshole."
                              
"Not anymore... well... not as much, anyway."
                              
She nodded.
                              
"Please just give me a chance. I'm not my father."
                              
"And I'm a muggle-born, so does that mean anything to you."
                              
"Absolutely nothing. I'm glad to work with you and will let you boss me around for the next few days, while I get situated?"
                              
Laura smiled. "This way, trainee. Got to show you how to purge emulsions and how to organize the supply closet!"
                              
"I look forward to it, my beautiful mentor."
                              
Laura blushed right up, but still bossed him around like a new warden for the next hour. They went to the permanent ward first. She introduced him to his old professor from school, a few other recovering patients and, horrifyingly, to Frank and Alice Longbottom. Salazar, he had never known that Neville's parents were there. Crikey... that probably meant the boy he had harassed worse than Potter would stop by. He'd have to apologize to him, too.
                              
Then she showed him the three open wards, where only about seven patients were in. Nothing serious from the brief she gave. He could probably clear them all today. She didn't take him to them, yet. What didn't any healer want to stay here? he wondered. But then the last ward was the individual rooms. Just as they entered, there was an apparation crack, and a scurry of movement as a bloodied man was rushed into one room by the EMMTs (Emergency Magical Medical transporter). But there was another man who was thrashing as they hauled him into a room.
                              
"Not, again," Laura sighed, and Harper brushed past them and went into the room. "Listen, he's a regular. Violent. They don't let him have a wand, but he's gotten good with wandless magic. So don't let your guard down."
                              
"Regular for what?"
                              
"Anything, really. Drunkenness, potion overdose, suicide attempts and manic outbursts. He must have attacked his caretakers."
                              
"How is that Spell Damage?" he asked.
                              
"The other wards want nothing to do with him. He came here first for Spell Damage and wound up in the Janus Thickery Ward. He'll be back in there, again, after this. Come on. They might need us. He's a handful."
                              
Draco followed her into the room, where they had tied the jerking patient to the bed. He was bloodied, too. His shirt was off, exposing a stomach of cut marks and scars. His arms were no better. Draco couldn't see his face as his head was turned, and his neck was taunt. He was grunting in pain, and his tendons were popping out. Hopped up on some kind of potion, no doubt.
                              
"He's lost it this time! Stabbed his best friend and screaming about nonsense," an EMMT said, checking a cut to his robes. "Almost got me, too."
                              
"Thanks, guys," Laura said, and the transporters filed out.
                              
"I better check him," Draco said and walked to the side of the bed.
                              
"Just be careful. We didn't search him yet," she warned, again. Violent, she had said.
                              
Draco gave her a look and looked down at the man. He tried his kid voice. "Hello, I'm Healer Malfoy...."
                              
The patient's head cranked right to him, and green eyes were squinting at him, like they needed glasses. Before he could even register that it was Harry Potter, the hero himself, the ropes disappeared. Draco was pushed up against the wall, bodily, with something sharp jabbed into the soft spot on his neck. His wand hand was pinned to the wall by Potter's other hand.