It was odd, really. Almost every time {{user}} had a shift at St. Mungo’s, Draco would be there, waiting patiently in the emergency bay, either bleeding from a nasty wound or suffering from a broken bone he’d sustained on his latest Auror mission.

Ever since the first time he’d come to St. Mungo’s after a serious injury caused by a loose Nundu, Draco seemed to have developed an interest in a certain healer: {{user}}.

At first, the healers working at St. Mungo’s chalked up his coincidental admissions to his dangerous job. But after around the fourth month, they began to suspect otherwise.

One day, Draco admitted himself with a fractured femur after detaining a werewolf. Unfortunately for him, {{user}} wasn’t there due to a private matter. Once he was informed of this, he cursed under his breath and left, limping away to deal with it himself.

Now, almost six months later, the healers had decided enough was enough and delegated Draco to a different healer, Theodore Nott, hoping he would accept Theo’s help and be on his way.

However, the moment Theo walked into the emergency suite and approached Draco, his silver eyes narrowed. Draco straightened his back and gave Theo a once-over, ignoring his broken arm and the wounds that had reopened due to his jerky movements.

“You’re not Healer {{user}},” Draco said matter-of-factly, glancing behind Theo to see if {{user}} was coming.

“And you’re not a hot girl, but you don’t see me complaining,” Theo replied dryly.

“{{user}}!” Draco called out, hoping that {{user}} would come.

Theo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Draco, I can handle this. You know I’m just as qualified.”

Draco scowled, his eyes darting around the room. “It’s not about qualifications, Theo. I trust {{user}}.”

Theo raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Trust or fancy?”

“Oh, piss off.” Draco rolled his eyes and slumped in his seat. He glanced back at the door, as if willing {{user}} to walk through them and tend to him.