A/N - This is a light, fluffy one shot. It takes place after school, in a universe with no war. Enjoy!

It was a busy Monday afternoon in St Mungo's as healer, Hermione Granger, made her way to the front desk of the emergency department she worked in. The hospital was in the middle of a flu epidemic, and half the staff were off sick, meaning those at work were over-stretched. No sooner had the healers and medi-witches treated one patient then they had to move onto the next. The shortage of staff also meant the healers had to do some of the tasks a medi-witch or a trainee would normally do.

"Hermione, you are so lucky," Angela, one of the medi-witches said as Hermione picked up the notes for her next patient.

"Why?" Hermione asked. "I'm rushed off my feet, and I haven't had time for lunch. I would hardly say I was lucky."

"Your luck is about to change," Angela said. "Your next patient is a big quidditch star."

"Big whoop," Hermione muttered. Unlike most of the wizarding world, Hermione wasn't obsessed with quidditch, despite the fact two of her friends, Harry Potter and his wife Ginny, were professional players.

"I know you don't like quidditch, but surely you can appreciate a fit man when you see one," Angela replied. "And the wizard you're about to treat is very fit."

"Quidditch players tend to be in shape," Hermione replied. "It's sort of in the job description."

"I didn't mean fit like that," Angela tutted. "I meant fit as in hot. In fact he's downright sexy."

"If he's so great, why don't you go and treat him," Hermione said, holding her notes out for Angela. "I can take your next patient."

"I'd love to, but he has a suspected fracture, and you know a healer has to deal with injuries like those," Angela replied. "Sorry Hermione, you're on your own with the hunk."

"Seriously?" Hermione questioned. "There's no medi-witches available to help out?"

"Sorry, we've lost three more this morning," Angela replied with a sigh. "Everyone's busy, so you're on your own."

"Let's go and deal with this quidditch player then," Hermione muttered.

"Star," Angela corrected. "He's not just a player, he's a star. One of the best players in the league."

"Please, I'm best friends with Harry Potter, the best seeker the league has seen in decades. I'm hardly going to be star struck by some other bloke who happens to make his living flying around on a broomstick playing with little balls," Hermione retorted.

"You make quidditch sound so dirty, Hermione," Angela chuckled.

Hermione rolled her eyes affectionately at Angela, as she grabbed her notes and headed off to the room where her patient was waiting. Without even checking the notes to see who she was dealing with, Hermione breezed into the room, a friendly smile on her face. However, her smile flickered when she found a very familiar platinum blond wizard sitting on the bed, covered in mud.

"Granger, fancy seeing you here," Draco Malfoy drawled, his grey eyes flicking appreciatively over Hermione's body.

"I am a healer, Malfoy," Hermione retorted as she shut the door behind her. "It's sort of a given that you'd find me here."

"I thought you were some sort of children's healer," Draco responded.

"I did my training in paediatrics," Hermione replied. "But how did you know that?"

"I think you forget I'm team mates with Potter," Draco replied. Even though the pair had never seen eye to eye in school, they now got along rather well since they were team-mates instead of rivals. Of course it also helped that Draco had switched to play chaser in his last couple of years at Hogwarts, lessoning the rivalry before they'd began to play together. "He's rather proud of you, you know."

"And I'm proud of him," Hermione replied with a small smile. "It's nice to know the biggest quidditch star in the country."

"Ouch, way to wound a guy when he's already injured, Granger," Draco retorted, with a pout Hermione suspected was fake.

"So what exactly happened?" Hermione asked, smiling slightly at Draco's banter. They weren't exactly friends, but they did see each other because of their connections with Harry, and whenever they were in the vicinity of each other, Draco was always rather flirtatious with her.

"I was completely minding my own business, practicing my scoring, when I was knocked in the back of the head with a stray bludger. I hadn't seen it coming, so I was taken by surprise and I fell off my broom."


"Ouch is an understatement," Draco muttered as Hermione made her way over to the bed.

"Did you lose consciousness when you fell?" Hermione asked, checking the blond's head for any damage.

"No," Draco replied.

"Okay, we need to get you cleaned up before I can do anything," Hermione announced. "What did you do, fall in a mud puddle?"

"Precisely," Draco replied in all seriousness.

Hermione looked at the blond, unsure if he was being truthful or just winding her up. "Let's get you cleaned up," She repeated after a few moments. "I can use scourgify to clean you, or we can do it the traditional way. But I warn you, the scourgify charm will be pretty brutal given the mess you're in."

"I think we'll go traditional," Draco said. "I take it this means you want me to strip."

"First, I'm going to charm your arm so you can't move it. Any movement could cause more damage if you do have a fracture, or even a break," Hermione said. "It'll mean we'll have to cut your top off you, I'm afraid. You won't be able to lift your arm to get out of it the traditional way."

"It's just a training top, and I've got dozens of them," Draco replied.

Hermione nodded in response, before she pulled out her wand and carefully secured Draco's injured arm. She then turned her attention to his shirt, using magic to tear the side so she could peal it away from his body. As she stripped the tight, blue material away from his torso, she couldn't help but think how toned he was. Either the quidditch kept him in pristine shape, or he worked out to maintain his physique.

"Enjoying the show?" Draco asked with a smirk as he noticed the way Hermione was looking at him.

Hermione looked up, blushing slightly as she realised she'd been caught admiring his body. "I've seen better," She casually replied.

"But the best is yet to come," Draco promised as Hermione removed the last of his top. "I take it you want me to remove my bottoms as well."

Hermione glanced down at the dark blue practice bottoms that adorned Draco's lower half. As was the style with quidditch, they were pretty tight, offering her a slight insight as to what to expect when the blond shed them. Hermione really wasn't sure if she was ready to see Draco in just his underwear, but he was injured and she had to act professional and get him checked over.

"Yes, the bottoms have to go," Hermione replied as she backed away from the bed. "Can you manage that with one hand?"

Draco grinned at Hermione, half tempted to say he needed help, but he took pity on her and reassured her that he could cope on his own. Sure enough, even with one hand it took him less than a minute to strip his trousers off, leaving him in a pair of black boxers.

"That mud really does soak through," Hermione muttered, making a conscious effort not to stare at the rather impressive bulge in Draco's underwear.

"It gets everywhere," Draco agreed as Hermione turned to the sink in the corner of the room and began to fill a basin.

Hermione used the time the basin was filling to regain her focus and flip back into her professional mode. However, that was pretty hard to do when she was in a room with a half-naked Draco Malfoy, and she had realised just how attractive he was. It was also occurring to her that her own love life was pretty much dead at the moment, and this was the closest she'd come to a nearly naked man in several months. Pushing aside her own lustful thoughts, Hermione picked up a sponge and moved the basin over to beside the bed.

"A bed bath, how erotic," Draco grinned.

"It's not a bed bath," Hermione replied with a roll of her eyes. "I'm cleaning you up."

"I wouldn't have thought this was a healer's job," Draco said.

"It's not normally, but we're short staffed and everyone has to pitch in," Hermione replied. "Now, be quiet while I clean you up a bit."

Draco chuckled slightly, but his chuckle turned into a gasp of surprise when Hermione squeezed the wet cloth over his head and he was drenched with cold water. "Bloody hell, that's cold," He hissed.

"Sorry," Hermione apologised as she magically heated the water slightly. "Is that better?" She checked, sending another shower of water over the blond.

"A bit," Draco answered. "Personally, I prefer a steaming hot shower in an actual shower."

"Sorry, this will have to do for today," Hermione replied as she carefully began to clean the mud and grime off Draco's body.

Hermione deliberately started at Draco's head, putting off moving further south. However, there was only so long she could draw out cleaning his head, checking it for injuries, and cleaning his torso. Finally, she had to turn her attention to his legs, and when she did, she was sure the bulge in his boxers had grown. Although if it had, Draco wasn't at all bothered, he just sat on the edge of the bed, smirking at Hermione as she cleaned him up.

"You know, I think I like you like this," Draco commented as Hermione knelt in front of him.

"Like what?" Hermione asked, glancing up at the blond.

"On your knees in front of me," Draco replied. "It's giving me all sorts of ideas."

"So I see," Hermione muttered, glancing once again at Draco's crotch. It was now very obvious he was turned on by what was happening, and he was sporting a noticeable erection.

"Sorry, but I can't do anything about that," Draco chuckled. "It's only natural to react when a beautiful witch has her hands all over me."

Hermione's head flew up at Draco's comment and she looked at him in surprise.

"Don't look so shocked," Draco laughed. "You're an attractive witch Hermione. I would have had to be blind not to have noticed it."

"I wouldn't have thought I was your type," Hermione muttered. To be honest she knew nothing about Draco's type, as while he was a big star in the wizarding world for his quidditch career, his private life rarely made the papers due to his influence as a Malfoy.

"What? Gorgeous, smart, sassy, able to hold a decent conversation?" Draco asked. "What's not to like?"

"My heritage," Hermione answered quietly as she got to her feet.

"Don't you dare," Draco snapped. "Don't you dare hold that against me, Granger. I admit when I started school I was a little bigoted pureblood, but I grew up. I apologised way back in third year, and I never once called you any names after that."

"You're right, I'm sorry," Hermione apologised, wishing she hadn't mentioned her blood status. "That's the past, and you've proved time and time again you don't believe in any of that blood nonsense."

"No, I don't," Draco agreed forcefully. "Which is why, I can appreciate a beautiful, smart, muggleborn when I see one. And you Granger, fit the bill perfectly. You're almost my ideal woman."

"Only almost?" Hermione teased with a smile. "Where do I fail to meet your high expectations?"

"You need one more thing to be my perfect woman," Draco replied. "My perfect woman needs to be an amazing kisser."

"And what if I was to tell you I am a very good kisser," Hermione said flirtatiously.

"I would say, prove it," Draco challenged.

Hermione smiled as she leant towards Draco. "I can't," She announced, stopping just short of the blond's tempting lips. "I can't kiss patients."

Draco growled slightly as Hermione pulled back, a teasing smile on her lips.

"Should we get on with it?" Hermione asked happily. "I'm sure you're cold sitting there in just your underwear."

"Cold isn't the word I would use," Draco muttered.

Hermione chuckled as she refocused on her job as a healer. Starting with Draco's arm, she began her examination of the blond. Luckily, he had no head injury, despite being whacked with a bludger. His right arm was fractured, but a couple of simple spells started the healing procedures. She also set his arm in a sling, to help him keep it steady while it finished healing.

"You'll need to rest for a few days," Hermione ordered. "Take it easy on your arm, and you'll need to come back in a week for a check-up. Until then you're not to play quidditch."

"So a week's rest and relaxation is on the menu," Draco concluded.

"Yep. Lucky for some," Hermione replied.

"I take it a week of relaxation is off the cards for you," Draco said.

"Yeah, with this flu crises I've barely got time to eat, let alone have days off," Hermione said. "Anyway, if you sort it at reception, you can make an appointment next week to have your arm checked."

"With you?" Draco checked.

"No," Hermione answered with a shake of her head. "I work in the emergency department. Your appointment will be up on another floor with another healer."

"So once we're finished here, I'm not your patient?" Draco checked.

"Nope," Hermione confirmed. "Once you've redressed and I've discharged you, you're no longer my patient."

"Good," Draco said as he grabbed his trousers and quickly cleaned them using magic before he pulled them on.

"Do you want me to see if I can find you a t-shirt or something?" Hermione asked, remembering the state Draco's top had been in when she'd taken it off him.

"I'll be okay," Draco replied. "So am I discharged now?"

"Yes," Hermione answered.

The word had barely left his lips, before Draco had advanced on her and with his good arm he pulled her to him. Before Hermione could protest, he'd pressed his lips against hers in a heated kiss. Hermione lost herself in the kiss, and when they parted she was breathing slightly heavily.

"Yeah, you're my perfect woman," Draco concluded, grinning at a still shell-shocked Hermione.

"Really?" Hermione asked, arching an eyebrow at the blond as she regained her composure. "And what are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to take you out," Draco replied with confidence. "Unless, you don't want to," He added, suddenly realising he sounded a bit overbearing.

"I'd like that," Hermione replied with a smile. "But I'm swamped at the minute. As I said, I'm working extra shifts with this flu crisis."

"I'll be back next week, I'll come and find you then," Draco said. "And I'll not be taking no for an answer. Next week, we're setting up a date."

"I'll look forward to it," Hermione said, with a wide smile as she led the way to the door of the hospital room.

Hermione accompanied Draco back to the reception, where she left him to arrange an appointment for the next week. As she grabbed her notes for the next patient, Hermione bumped into Angela, and the medi-witch gave her a knowing smile.

"I take it that it went well with Draco," Angela remarked.

"You know him?" Hermione frowned.

"No," Angela replied quickly. "I've just seen him play before."

"Angela, what's going on?" Hermione demanded. She knew her friend well enough to know there was something she wasn't telling her.

"Okay, but promise you won't tell him I told you," Angela said, glancing to where Draco was just leaving via the floo network.

"Told me what?" Hermione questioned.

"I was the one who settled him in the room when he arrived," Angela confessed. "Because of his suspected fracture, I said he would need a healer and he asked if you were working. When I said you were, he persuaded me to make sure you got him as a patient."

"Just how long was he here waiting for me to see him?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, maybe a couple of hours," Angela replied.

"He sat there for two hours, just so he could see me?" Hermione gasped.

"Yes," Angela replied with a smile. "I think he really likes you, Hermione. Don't tell me you blew him out?"

"No, we're going to arrange a date next week," Hermione confided.

"Brilliant," Angela replied. "You deserve some romance in your life."

"Yes, I do," Hermione said softly as she said goodbye to Angela and got back to work.

It was really rather flattering that Draco had spent a couple of hours sitting in the hospital waiting to see her, although she wouldn't be able to resist teasing him about it when she next saw him. After all, it wasn't every day Hermione had a big quidditch star make such an effort to see her just so he could ask her out.

The End.