Chapter 3

Harry Potter + Grey's Anatomy Crossover

By: Griffindorks I'd just been going through the motions of life after the war. I had served their purpose, so I went out and found my own. Now it's my time to thrive and be more than just the Boy-Who-Lived. Read to find out how he went from being wartime Harry to becoming a surgeon at Seattle Grace Hospital, and what changes he brings to its halls. Smart/Competent Harry, Better Summary in Profile.

Rated: Fiction M - English - Drama/Romance - [Harry P., Addison M., Mark S.] Meredith G. - Chapters: 6 - Words: 50,149 - Reviews: 90 - Favs: 414 - Follows: 487 - Updated: May 10, 2020 - Published: Feb 8, 2020 - id: 13496368

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AN: Thank you to everyone that has favorited and followed the story, it truly means a lot to us as writers to see others enjoying our work. Also, a big thank you to Rocketgirllily, WizardShinobi, OlegFunnarsson, 917brat, DarkMoon010, cptbludz13, and Estelle Uzumaki for leaving comments as it encourages us to keep going.

Ep. Ref: S01E02

Chapter Three

Nurse, Teri Lynn Thompson, once prayed, "Let me dedicate my life today, to the care of those who come my way. Let me touch each one with healing hands, and the gentle art for which I stand. Then tonight, when the day is done, let me rest in peace, if I've helped just one." It has happened countless times over the years that I'm faced with treating someone that I find abhorrent or just simply don't agree with, but there were just as many occasions where I wished with all my heart that I could do more. These happened when I was an Auror, when I was a Healer, and now as a surgeon. The magical people might like to delude themselves into believing that they are different from the mundane, but people everywhere are the same. One thing has always stayed constant, however. It is not up to me to choose who I help, and it's disheartening when I can't, but at the end of the day, if I gave it my best and have affected even one life, then my world is a brighter place.

Harry's POV

"Mer, Hurry up! We've only got twenty minutes left!" yelled the frustrated wizard. He'd been sitting in the kitchen with a cup of Oolong tea when Mer had come dashing in for a glass of water. Apparently, she hadn't heard her alarm, and now they were running late. That had been thirty minutes ago. Harry rechecked the time and started placing his shrunken packed lunch and hospital-issued, secured laptop in his messenger bag. Putting on his jacket, he hollered, "I'll be waiting in the car! If you're not out there in five minutes, I'm leaving, and don't forget to lock the door behind you!"

Reaching the driveway he slid into his own Audi, 'Nimbus', which, along with the rest of his things had arrived via a moving service, to keep up with mundane appearances, two days ahead of schedule. Much to the head-shaking exasperation of the females in his life, he's nicknamed his car in honor of his very first broom. The guys got it, though. Sometimes a man needed things purely for the enjoyment of it, and while he still flew and played Quidditch often enough, it really wasn't as frequently as he wanted. Hence, the car.

Speaking of flying, Harry made a mental note to arrange a pick-up game with the others. With how busy he'd been with moving, it was going on three months since their last match.

He breathed a sigh of relief as the dark-blonde intern, came hopping on one foot, trying to get a leopard print flat on the other. No sooner did she get in than Harry jetted out of the driveway.

"I'm so, so sorry. I got caught up last night reading your latest article in the New England Journal, and didn't hear the alarm at all," she said breathlessly.

"It's fine, Luv, I wasn't angry, just trying to get us out of there in time," he reassured, and catching sight of the printed paper clutched in her hand, he asked, "Is that a notice for roommates?"

"Yeah, some of the utilities are due in a few weeks, so I really can't afford to wait," she rationalized.

Noticing his silent sideways glance, she added mulishly, "Harry, I don't need you to be my Batman for this."

"Since we're on the topic of roommates," he received a warning glare, "I put down an offer for that Queen Anne Victorian we toured. The agent said the owners were agreeable, so it might get finalized by tonight."

"You could stay," she mumbled.

"Mer, we've discussed why it's not safe for me too, especially around mundanes."

"I know, but I still wish you could, what if…," she finished, hesitantly.

Having known this girl long enough to understand what she wasn't saying, he gave her an arched look. "If eight years of living in two different states, didn't make us grow distant, do you really think, living a few minutes away will?" He asked, referring to her time in college and med school.

"I was just really looking forward to finally spending more than a few days together."

"You need friends, Luv, connections other than your colleagues. If you don't, you'll find yourself burning out too fast, and wasn't it you who said, you didn't want to lead the kind of life Ellis did? Plus, look at the bright side. Now you'll have a place to get away when the roommates get to be too much."

"I don't appreciate it when you get all logical. It makes it really hard to win arguments," Mer said, making Harry break out in full-blown laughter.

She was way too mature and melancholic for her age at times, but it warmed his heart every time she let show through her mannerisms, how much she trusted him.

"Oooh, speaking of school, any updates from Teddy? I haven't seen him since early June."

Mer's question had his lips stretching in a joyful smile. His adorable sixteen-year-old adopted son had come down to visit Harry in Rochester at the start of his summer break. He'd just finished his OWL year at Hogwarts, and Mer her last semester of med school. He'd been delighted to hear about his dad's move to Seattle. Still, if Harry had to guess, his reaction had more to do with Washington State being closer to California, where a certain fourteen-year-old Weasley Veela lived than anything to do with Harry's work. Not that the boy would ever admit to anything of the sort. The older wizard was happy for the young metamorphmagus, glad that Teddy, and all the other children, got to enjoy the carefree life of teenagers that Harry and his friends had been denied.

Stopping at a red light, he glanced at the woman who had become nothing short of an aunt, to Teddy. "He's good, called me last night, actually. He seems to be enjoying his time with his grandmother and just letting off some steam after OWLs. He joined the Summer Quidditch Camp again, of course, and decided to do a summer internship at the Potter Foundation under Andy's supervision."

"At least he's having fun and keeping busy. You should've woken me up, though. With the time difference between here and Wales, I sometimes miss my chances to call him. Maybe I'll just text him, but then again, maybe I'll let him stew after he pulled that prank on me last time," she schemed.

The comment made Harry think of Teddy transfiguring his aunt's hair into little, fine feathers that made it look like an unkempt poof ball. She hadn't been able to go out for a week and had to force Harry to create a counter-spell. Harry hoped she never found out he'd helped the boy create the spell for Mer in the first place, and had later exaggerated the time he needed to develop the counter-spell. It really hadn't been their fault though. The Marauder Legacy was just in their blood, and Mer really should know better by now.

Izzie's POV

Izzie and their group, watched as Meredith, a darker blonde than Izzie herself, finished interviewing a random intern for her roommate ad as they waited for their resident, Dr. Bailey to arrive. Izzie had seen her ad post in the intern locker room earlier and was tempted herself. People had been flocking to Meredith all morning, but Izzie wasn't sure what she was looking for in an applicant, because so far she hadn't approved anyone.

As Meredith approached the group, Izzie couldn't hold back her frustration any longer. "Why do you put up posters for roommates, if you don't want roommates?"

"I do want roommates, but we're together a hundred hours a week, you want to live together too?" asked an equally annoyed Meredith.

"No. Absolutely not. I get enough of all o'ya at work," Cristina chimed in as she joined the group.

"I need a place to live. My mom irons my scrubs. I have to get out of there," George pleaded, trying to make his case.

Without taking even a moment to blink, Meredith concluded, "I don't think it's a good idea."

George continued, however. "But I can put down last, first and deposit."

Izzie, decided it was now or never. "I can cook, and I'm an obsessive cleaner," Izzie enticed, hoping to appeal to Meredith's own lack of housekeeping inclinations.

She desperately wanted Meredith to agree. Izzie was currently living out of a motel and really needed to find a better, more permanent place. She also hoped that with them sharing a place, it could lead to a deeper friendship.

Izzie had never had many friends. People in school had tended to treat her like a leper because she'd lived in a trailer park with a single parent. It hadn't helped that adults had pulled their kids away even more, when she'd gone through some issues as a teen. Her mom hadn't been the most reliable parent, either, so Izzie'd had to step up and take a lot of the responsibility for the household, and then college had been busy, so…

She just really hoped Meredith said yes.

"No! I just want two total strangers who I don't have to talk to, or be nice to. I just want to go home and not have to think about work, and that's not going to happen if work comes home with me," Mer said, toggling her index finger between George and Izzie while walking backwards to where Bailey was coming down the stairs.

Oh!...

As their resident supervisor got ready to hand out the day's assignments, Izzie mentally shifted gears from her housing situation, and hoped she got something better than rectal exams this time. The memory of that still made her gag in disgust.

Before the stout, black resident could speak however, she was interrupted by, in Izzie's honest opinion, the most delicious English voice calling out for their resident.

They all turned their heads at once, and Izzie swallowed to wet her throat, as she saw one of the finest examples of the male species, walk over to their group with a to-go cup in his hand.

Coming out of her shock, Izzie turned to Meredith and Cristina and whispered, "Why are there so many good looking doctors here?" only to get an acknowledging shrug from the Asian woman and an eye roll from the other blonde.

Izzie realized he must be an attending, since he was wearing navy scrubs with a full sleeved, light grey crew t-shirt underneath.

"Good Morning, Dr. Bailey," he greeted lightheartedly, "and Dr. Interns," he continued turning towards them.

"Dr. Potter-Black. Morning," replied Bailey, sounding almost excited.

Is she smiling? Izzie glanced at the others to see she wasn't the only one seeing things, and if that wasn't shocking enough, Bailey added, "Thank you again, for allowing me on the intestine surgery, sir. It was a singular experience, getting to see an injury repaired with hardly any loss of organ functions." It was weird, seeing Bailey be so nice to someone.

Giving her a sincere smile, and wow, what a smile, and so young, the Attending surgeon replied, "No thanks needed. You handled yourself admirably, and performed some solid work there." His critique made the Nazi look happily flustered, if Izzie looked really closely, that is.

"And, please, no 'sirs'. I'm way too young, to feel that old," he joked a little uncomfortably.

"So, I've already had pleasant run-ins with Drs. Yang and Grey here, but who are your other ducklings?" he asked motioning towards George and her.

"Ah, well, this is George O'Malley and this is Izzie Stevens," she introduced pointing towards each of us respectively, before indicating to the senior attending, "Everyone, this is Dr. Potter-Black, the new Head of both, ER and Trauma."

"Ah yes, Dr. O'Malley," he said shaking George's offered hand, "you must be the intern that performed the appendectomy on your first day here." He said, still smiling down at George.

Ouch! Poor George. So not the best way to start an introduction with someone as famous as Ellis Grey.

"Oh, uh, sorry," the male intern's ears getting pink.

"What for?" The Trauma Head's eyes peered at George inquisitively.

George must have finally realized the man's tone wasn't derogatory, and looked up with a bit more confidence. "Well, you know, for failing to finish the surgery." he said with a touch of apathy, as if he might as well face up to it.

"That's not how I see it, Dr. O'Malley. The number of interns that actually succeed in completing a surgical procedure, of that caliber, can be counted on one hand. Which means, it speaks a lot for your character that you, being the first one picked, chose to go ahead with the procedure despite being scared out of your wits, I'm sure."

Wow! He's really nice, like genuinely, really nice, thought a thoroughly shocked Izzie.

George smiled at the older surgeon's encouraging analysis, looking completely opposite from a few seconds ago. "Thanks Dr. Potter-Black, it's really great to meet you." George shook his hand a lot more enthusiastically.

"Likewise." Then the attending turned his eyes towards her.

"Huh, uh, Hi." That is really embarrassing, Izzie. Say something normal. Say something normal. Something normal. Any. Thing. "Ahem, Hi," smile brightly, "My name's Izzie Stevens. It's an honor to meet you Dr. Black." Noooo, damn it! Izzie cringed internally, as she watched the others give her disbelieving side glances.

"It's good to meet you Dr. Stevens, and I understand it can be a mouthful to say both names, but it's to honor both my families," he said agreeably while glancing at everyone in the group to emphasize that the message included all of them.

"I'm sorry, it kind of just, uh," she trailed off apologetically.

"Like I said, understandable."

"Dr. Yang. I hope you were able to find a resolution to your earlier dilemma," he asked without really asking.

Izzie was curious, and from the other's faces, including Bailey's, she could tell they were as well.

"Yes, I did. Thank you," she said in that forthright manner that made her, so, well, Cristina.

"Glad to help. It would, as they like to say on this side of the Pond, 'suck', to start on such a difficult foot, right at the beginning."

"And, Dr. Grey."

"Hi," said Meredith brazenly with a grin, taking them all by surprise.

He just smirked, and turned back to Bailey. Meredith's been holding out on us, thought Izzie.

Their resident collected herself, and asked, "What can we do for you today, Doctor?"

"Actually, if you haven't already decided on their assignments for today, 'The Pit', and the trauma wards, both could use some additional help, and before I forget, I got you one, I hear you like Mocha lattes?" he said as he handed Bailey the coffee cup.

Clearly amused, she took the cup, and then, with her usual 'tough-as-nails' disposition, asked archly, "Are you trying to bribe me, Dr. Potter-Black?"

The Attending's emerald like eyes, became just a smidgen sharper, as he gently rebuked, "I'm not in the habit of bribing, Dr. Bailey. I just thought you might appreciate a little pick me up as I'd heard Debbie mention you were already eight hours into your shift."

Dr. Bailey looked a little unsettled at her unintentional faux pas, and Izzie managed a whispered, "Wow, someone that can out-Nazi, the Nazi!", getting subtle nods from the rest, before the woman noticed.

"My apologies then," she recovered gracefully.

"Well, I look forward to working with you all soon." Turning to Bailey, he added, "Send some my way, if possible," and with a final nod he took his leave.

Seems like a nice person and an encouraging teacher, but doesn't get rolled over easily, concluded Izzie, not to mention the intensity of his presence.

Coming back to herself, Dr. Bailey gave out her orders, "George! You're running the code team; Meredith, the trauma patients; Cristina, deliver the weekend labs to the patients; Izzie! You're on sutures in 'The Pit'."

It took them a while to switch their brains back to work mode after that encounter. However, when Bailey saw them still there, she yelled, "Why're y'all standing there? Move!" before she stormed back up the stairs.

"And, the Nazi's back," said Cristina, before they all skedaddled in their various directions.

Meredith's POV

Mer rushed away from the other interns, and made a beeline for the elevators. She was pretty pleased at being assigned to Trauma and genuinely fascinated by the idea of working with Harry. From the rumor mill around Mayo, he was a phenomenal instructor with high expectations, but a patient demeanor. He had the reputation of being meticulous during procedures and the care of his patients, and performed even the most basic skills, with an elegance that spoke of immeasurable practice, and Mer really wanted to have his level of skill, one day.

Of course, Mer knew about his natural talent and patience as a teacher from personal interactions, but had yet to experience it in a professional setting. She's been curious, ever since high school, about what he did on a day-to-day basis, and what he was like while 'on the job'. Trauma was supposed to be fast-paced and doctors had to think quickly; even a few seconds could mean the difference between life or death.

Reaching the elevators, Mer adjusted the files in her arms, only to falter at seeing Derek standing there. He looked up from his texting, and did a double take at seeing her, before going back to his phone. The intern internally debated whether or not she should take the stairs instead, but then decided to just step in front of him to keep herself from staring at his stupidly gorgeous face.

"Seattle has ferry boats." Whatever Mer thought he was going to say, that certainly hadn't been it, but she couldn't help the amused smile that pulled at her lips at the randomness of his comment.

"Yes,"she answered tentatively, unsure of where he was going with this.

"I didn't know that. I've been living here for six weeks. I didn't know there were ferry boats."

"Seattle is surrounded by water on three sides," she stated a touch sarcastically, as it was an obvious fact.

"Hence the ferry boats," said Derek, as if arriving at a conclusion.

The neurosurgeon continued, seamlessly, as the elevator arrived, and people came out, "Now I have to like it here. I wasn't planning on liking it here. I'm from New York. Genetically engineered to dislike everywhere, except Manhattan," they were the only ones to board the elevator, as the man finished with a decisive, "I have a thing for ferry boats."

"I'm not going out with you," Mer stated bluntly, unwilling to continue floating in this quagmire of whatever this was.

"Did I ask you to go out with me?" He asked coyly, the charming bastard, "Do you want to go out with me?" he asked flirtatiously.

"I'm not dating you. And I'm definitely not sleeping with you again. You're my boss." Mer knew she needed to stay firm in this, no matter how much his presence befuddled her.

"I'm your boss' boss," he corrected with a hint of technicality.

"You're my teacher. And my teacher's teacher. And you're my teacher." she adamantly countered.

"I'm your sister, I'm your daughter." Now he was just being flippant.

"You're sexually harassing me."

"I'm riding an elevator." He wants to be practical now? I need to put an end to this, no matter how thrilling this back-and-forth feels.

"Look! I'm drawing a line. The line is drawn. There's a big line." There, that should take care of that.

"So, this line. Is it imaginary, or do I need to get you a marker?" He turned around to face her and their eyes finally met for the first time this encounter.

And that was it for her. Her determination faltered and was no longer enough to keep her at bay, and as if his simple action had opened the floodgates, Mer's rationality got swept away in the current. She felt positively inebriated looking into the breadth of life shining in his eyes which always had the effect of pulling her magnetically towards him. Is this what magic feels like? She wondered. It must be, because what else could negate all your logic with such ferocious intensity.

Before she could process what was happening in her hazed mind, Mer felt the files drop from her hands as if in slow motion, felt her entire being move towards this infuriating man. Her lips crashed against his, feeling their warmth and softness and her thoughts faded. Her entire world focused on the sensations caused by the press of their lips, the burning trail his hands left as they roamed over her torso, the glide of his textured hair through her fingers, the friction from their bodies pressed against one another, the humidity from their combined breaths, the annoying yet satisfying scratches from his stubble, the bitter taste of coffee in his mouth, the ping of the elevator indicating the doors were about to open.

Well, Shit!

Jerking herself away from the solid body she had been unconcernedly climbing, she didn't give herself any time at all to dwell on what happened. She just instinctively bent down to collect her scattered paperwork, as the elevator doors opened, and without a single glance back at Derek she hurried through the group of people waiting outside, but not before she heard him call out, "We'll talk later?"

She really couldn't deal with this right now.

Harry's POV

Harry's morning had been pretty calm so far, or as calm as leading two high acuity departments could get. He'd gotten a shift change update from his staff, and addressed any immediate issues with them. Then he'd gone to his office, and made more inroads into the backlog of paperwork, which hadn't been seen to, since his predecessor left. He'd gotten to meet Mer's entire intern group, who all seemed competent, from the looks of them.

Then he'd gathered all spare personnel for a department meeting, so he could get better acquainted with their most prolific case types, the most prevalent difficulties the departments faced, how were they were on staffing and inventory, and so on and so forth.

Harry was extremely glad at the amount of feedback he received from his staff, since it pointed to numerous inefficiencies that he would have to plan improvements for. One of the biggest being the amount of time between a patient's arrival to their discharge. The most prominent delaying factors, according to his nurses, were waiting for radiology slots and then waiting again for imaging and lab results, before they could make a decision on treatment. Another was how long it took to gather all the information from the paramedics. All these factors might not seem that important, since other departments faced the same issues, but Harry knew how much each second mattered in emergency medicine.

I really need that meeting with Richard, thought Harry, and ask for an experienced administrative assistant, but those were long term problems. For the time being, he needed to put together a better staffing model for both the ER and Trauma units, and ensure the staff got additional training specifically designed for emergency and trauma situations.

Presently however, Harry was standing at the nurse's station, trying to find coverage for all the walk-ins that required minor medical interventions, hence his request to Bailey, but his efforts were derailed, when a call came in for an incoming rape victim.

He pulled out his cell, and called the Chief. "Hey Richard, we have a rape victim trauma case incoming and I really can't afford to spare anyone right now. Do you have anyone on staff that can liaise with the police and family members?"

Hearing an affirmative, he hung up and moved out of the way, allowing the nurses and paramedics to transport the patient to Trauma Room 2 and start the transfer of information from the paramedics to our records.

He turned at hearing his name and saw a woman in her forties with greying blonde hair, and a business like manner walking towards him.

"Hi, I'm Patricia Murphy, Dr. Webber's administrative assistant. He asked me to come down to assist you with something?"

He shook her hand and seeing Mer get out of the elevators, he tilted his head, silently directing her towards the new arrival, and turned back to Patricia.

"Walk with me," he told her, before he too headed in Mer's direction. "We just had a rape victim brought in, and I'm not sure how the hospital usually handles this, but I need someone to be our go between with any law enforcement and family that might show up." He looked at her waiting for her response, and the minute she consented, he thanked her, and walked into the chaos that accompanied an emergency assessment.

"Twenty-five year-old female found down at the park, status post-trauma," one of the nurses said, relaying the first responders' data. "She came in with a GCS of 6, B.P. 80 over 60. The exam is significant for blunt head trauma; unequal breath sounds, right pupil dilated, and she's ready for an x-ray."

Harry monitored the situation, but decided to stand back, and allow the first year intern to take the lead, but noticing her sight fixated on a familiar pair of shoes, he called out to her.

When she turned back to look at him, he asked, "How would you recommend we proceed, Dr. Grey?"

She took a second to process the information announced and said, "Get a C.T. and an x-ray, a portable monitor, and a ventilator, to start off with."

Giving her a nod, he projected his voice over the cacophony, to confirm her orders and asked a nurse to call Neuro and Cardio for consults.

He had Mer walk out with him and asked, "Walk me through your assessment and recommendations."

"Well her head trauma, and dilated right pupil, could mean an uncal herniation is compressing the third cranial nerve and possibly the rest of the brain stem, so we need a C.T. Her uneven breath sounds indicate a pneumothorax, so the ventilator. We don't know how long she'll remain stable and can't proceed without imaging, so we needed a portable monitor to, well, monitor her vitals, and an x-ray is standard protocol."

"I know I don't need to say it, but good job." That earned him a happy smile from his sister. "Now, I need you to go and book an OR for our patient."

"She's gonna spend a hell of a long time in recovery and rehab," Shepherd commented from where he was working on the head wound.

"If she survives," Burke replied darkly, as he patched up the woman's perforated lung.

"What is she, like 5'2", a hundred pounds?" Shepherd inquired. "She's still breathing after what this guy did to her?" Astonishment colored his voice. "If they catch the guy, they should castrate him."

You just earned some points in my book, Shepherd, thought Harry as he tried to locate the cause of her stomach rupture, and sent out a thin but constant stream of his magic to boost their patient's vital energies, something he'd gotten used to doing with most of his severe cases over the years. It didn't just help his patients but also allowed Harry to keep exercising his magic to make sure it didn't grow stagnant out here in the mundane world.

He held out his hand to the scrub nurse to receive the surgical scissors he had requested.

"See how shredded her hands are?" Burke pointed out, nodding to her mangled finger tips covered in heavy gauze. "She tried to fight back.

"Tried to? Rape kit came back negative. She kicked his ass." Harry provided in vicious approval, glad the repugnant pig hadn't taken everything from her. He really couldn't understand how someone could be so vile. Having lived through Voldemort and his Death Eaters he was perfectly aware there was evil in the world, but still, to see the result of such an act, made Harry's magic boil in revulsion. It was taking a large portion of his mind to soothe the roiling force of nature.

"So, we have a warrior among us, huh?" Burke called out, glancing around the room at the rest of the staff.

"Allison," Mer supplied softly, making all their heads turn towards her. "Her name is Allison."

"Allison," Harry repeated, conceding to the respect Mer wanted to show the patient. He allowed the name to roll around the fount of worldly information stored in his subconscious mind, one of the perks of being Death's Chosen.

When he'd been twenty, he'd naively asked Death, "Why don't I suddenly feel like I know everything?" Only to be told that no matter how advanced his brain's activity level may be, even for a wizard, he was still just a puny human, and he'd end up like the Longbottoms, if he was consciously aware of the entire bank of knowledge at once."

Well that had been a humbling and sobering thought.

Getting a 'hit', he phrased, "From the French and German roots, meaning 'of the nobility'." His words had the effect of gaining everyone's attention. "Noble Warrior, quite appropriate considering her fighter's response, don't you think?" He asked hypothetically.

"You seem to be well versed in your languages," concluded Burke.

Harry briefly looked up at the Cardiothoracic surgeon standing across him. "A few. The boarding school I attended was big on languages as the student population was very diverse. Much of my knowledge however, lies in the dead languages." What was left unsaid was, since the dead languages were the root of all current ones, it was of no small consequence.

The others looked at him in interest, but Harry's attention was on the foreign tissue his instrument had encountered. "I think I may have found the cause of the rupture." Grabbing the forceps from Bokhee in a tight grip, Harry carefully pulled out the mass, and held it up for closer inspection. Upon realization, he said proudly, "You really are a ruthless fighter, aren't you? Good on you!" he complimented, grinning broadly underneath his mask.

"Oh my God," Mer gasped, staring at the sample in shock. "She bit it off."

"What are you talking about?" Burke questioned them both impatiently, peering closely at the young intern as the Trauma Head laughed at the proceedings.

"She bit off," Mer spit out, causing everyone to look over, trying to figure it out. "Hi-his penis," she clarified, and Harry saw every other man in the room cringing, simultaneously.

Harry saw Bokhee, the quiet but highly experienced scrub nurse, shaking her head at their antics, and sent her a teasing wink, getting amused wrinkled eyes in return, making him chuckle.

Harry sent a second wink towards Mer, which didn't go unnoticed by the aged scrub nurse, but he let it go for now.

"If she can fight the infection, she'll be fine," Burke stated, looking through the glass at the nurses cleaning up after their surgery.

"It all depends on if she wakes up or not in the next seventy-two hours." Shepherd gauged.

"She'll pull through, you don't have to worry about that," Harry said confidently, as already he could feel her life force building, slowly but surely. "She's a fighter to her core. You don't fight as hard as she did, just to quit when you've finally gained an edge."

"You sound like you know a thing or two about that," Shepherd said with a surprising level of insight.

Harry looked up at them once he finished at the sink, and gave them a grin, instead of the answer they were probably expecting.

"Dr. Potter-Black," came the accented voice of Bokhee from where she stood at the door, with a small cooler in her hand, and a groan left the Englishman's mouth at what he already knew was about to happen.

The diminutive woman handed it to him and explained, "Since you collected the sample, you have to maintain chain of custody until the police come to pick it up."

He turned a pitiful look towards her and stated, "From the deepest depths of my heart, I hate you right now."

She cackled. Actually cackled at him, before she left.

"Well, at least someone is getting enjoyment out of this," Harry turned back from glaring at the nurse, and caught sight of their clear amusements. They received another glare.

"The three of us should get drinks later. You can tell me your long stories of what makes two hotshot docs leave their lucrative posts and move to Seattle." Burke invited, moving on from the moment of levity. His offer sounded a little out of practice to Harry, but this realization wasn't that surprising to him though. As he'd told Mer, surgeons didn't always have a lot of time for friends and family because of their busy schedules, especially the high profile ones.

Shepherd moved away from the sinks to grab a paper towel, and instead of accepting or declining the invite, he explained, "It's a short story actually. Your Chief of Surgery made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"Richard asked you to come?" Burke asked, looking thoroughly unprepared at the Neurosurgeon's response.

"Yeah. Why?" asked Shepherd as he looked back from opening the door.

"Oh, nothing," answered Burke, as if his earlier concern was of no import and watched Shepherd take his leave, before he silently looked towards Harry, as if asking, and you?

"Richard's been trying to get me over here for years," Harry shrugged throwing his paper towel in the bin, "and it was about time I moved closer to family, anyway," he said, thinking of Bill and Fleur's family down in California. They'd decided to move to the States themselves when Harry had first started his internship. Mostly, so Fleur could properly take over the day-to-day operations for Pev-Rell Innovations.

It had been a wonderful boon for Harry, taking quite a load off him and freeing up more of his time so he could focus more on practicing medicine, though he still spent plenty of time in research and development. Most of his inspiration nowadays came from the problems he encountered out here in the real world, as opposed to being stuck inside a lab.

"Well, I'll see you around."

Hearing, a still shocked, "You too," from the other man, Harry left, taking the cooler of penis with him.

Meredith's POV

Mer sat at a console, not in the best of moods, working on finishing her charting. George must have finished his own, since he came over to stand in the doorway and asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah...Allison's shoes," she sighed. "The rape victim, Allison, her shoes. I have the same ones. In my locker. And I normally never wear them, because they're not comfortable, but today I did, and she was wearing the same shoes," Mer knew she was rambling, but the thought had lodged in her head, and refused to leave, "and it's just...stupid, and I'm tired, and forget it." She didn't know why it mattered so much to her. So what if they were wearing the same shoes, but it did.

"You know what you need?" asked George, holding her gaze and widening his eyes in emphasis, and Mer finally realized.

"No! It's sick and twisted. We said last time was the last time." She admitted that it felt good, and it was tempting to keep going back, but they really weren't allowed and what if they got caught. She noticed George glance away in guilt and with shock and betrayal clear in her voice, she asked, "You've been doing it without me?"

"Nancy Reagan lied." He coyly defended while continuing to give her an enticing look. "You can't just say no. Come on."

"Do you know what would happen if anyone knew?"

"I'm doing it. You can come with me...or you can stay here, and be miserable." He finalized as he rolled her chair backwards out of the room, making her snicker at this entire scenario.

Mer and George stood looking through a large glass window into the nursery, watching the newborn babies wiggle their little arms and legs. She'd been immersed in the sight for the past few minutes, allowing it to soothe her troubled mind, while George made faces and expressively baby talked at them. It really was hilarious, reminding her of how Harry and the other Weasley men were with any of their baby nieces and nephews. What was it about babies that turned even strong dangerous grown men into, well this. This was exactly what she'd needed after this morning.

With a quiet laugh at his silliness, she said, "You are such a woman," which made George jerk up and look back at her in a self-conscious manner, but suddenly had to leave when he received an urgent page.

Just as she was about to leave herself, she noticed one of the babies turning blue. Mer looked around for a Pediatric doctor or nurse for help, but not seeing anyone, she stepped into the room, and checked the little guy's heart and lungs. Hearing a clear murmur, she was just looking over his medical chart, when the door opened, letting in a young, eastern Asian woman in magenta scrubs.

"What are you doing in here?" She asked Mer, accusingly.

"There were no tests ordered, and the baby has a murmur."

"I know," the other woman said with crossed arms, as if the surgical intern wasn't very bright.

"He turned blue."

"You're surgery, you're not authorized to be in here. Do you know how much trouble you can get into for this?" she questioned Mer, leaving her earlier comment unaddressed.

Mer decided to stick firmly on this matter. "Are you going to do any tests?"

"It's a benign systolic ejection murmur. It goes away with age," the Asian woman replied with complete certainty.

"So you're not going to do any tests," she stated in reaffirmation.

"He's not your patient, he's not even on your service," she told Mer, starting to sound frustrated with the surgical interloper.

"Are you sure it's benign?" Mer just couldn't seem to let it go.

"I'm a doctor too, you know. You should get out of here." The Pediatric intern said with finality, opening the nursery's door in a silent demand for Mer to leave.

Izzie's POV

Sitting on a stool in 'The Pit', Izzie decided she was not having a good morning. After her embarrassing introduction with the absolutely delicious, Dr. Potter-Black, the day seemed to get progressively worse. Sure, it was better than rectal exams, but she'd done so many sutures, her fingers were starting to lose sensation.

She just wanted a little bit of time in the OR, was that too much to ask? She'd thought being in 'The Pit' meant at least one patient might need surgery, but no, she'd been dealing with bumps, bruises, and stupid people making questionable choices.

What took the prize, however, was the woman currently sitting on a gurney, a Mrs. Lu, giving Izzie soulful looks. She'd arrived hours ago with a huge cut on her forearm, didn't speak even a hint of English, and for some reason, wouldn't allow Izzie to stitch her up. The light-blonde intern, had tried to get an interpreter, had even called out to the whole room, to see if anyone in the ER spoke Chinese, but no such luck.

Running out of options, Izzie had paged Cristina who was just now bursting through the doors. "Do you have a case?" she asked looking around the room hopefully.

"No," Izzie stated, gesturing toward Ms. Lu with a frown, "her. She won't let me sew her up. I wouldn't have called you, but I can't get a hold of a translator. Can you just ask her what's wrong?" Cristina looked between the patient and then back at Izzie with a blank expression.

"No." Her succinct rejection caused Izzie's shoulders to slump further, and she resisted the urge to drop her face into her palms in defeat.

"Why not?"

"Because I grew up in Beverly Hills," Cristina replied shortly, "the only Chinese I know is from a Mr. Chou's menu. Plus, I'm Korean." With that she left. Oh! Izzie pursed her lips and stared at Mrs. Lu in dejection. She wanted to help the woman, she really did, but didn't know how.

"Dr. Stevens?" Izzie startled at hearing the unmistakable accented voice behind her.

"D-Dr. Potter-Black," the blonde stuttered out, feeling her cheeks get warm.

"Is there a reason, you're sitting here looking as if someone killed your pet?"

"Oh, I can't find a translator to come down here, and Mrs. Lu won't let me fix her arm." She explained, getting up to follow the senior doctor, as he made his way towards the indicated woman. He had a cooler in his hand, and she momentarily wondered what that was about. "She keeps repeating the same thing to me, I think, but I don't understand, and I don't know what else to do"

"It's alright Dr. Stevens, it sounds as if you tried what you could," he said, offhandedly, as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Izzie couldn't help but raise a flustered hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, while looking up at her superior through her eyelashes.

The senior attending peered at the Chinese patient with a look of concentration, as if the gears in his brain were turning.

Finally, he indicated to the folder in Izzie's hand, and took a quick glance at the Chinese characters filling Mrs. Lu's intake form. "Dr. Stevens, for future reference, if the danger isn't imminent, it's a good idea to hold off treatment until you understand the patient's information, and they can understand you." Indicating the chart he emphasized his advice with, "from Mrs. Lu's information, can you be certain that she doesn't have any pre-existing conditions, allergies, or currently taking medications that might be counterproductive to your treatment?"

At Izzie's, "No," he nodded and turned towards one of the nurses by the station.

"Rebecca?" A pretty middle aged, caramel haired, Latina, stood up, and made her way over, a friendly smile on her face.

"How can I help you, Doctor?"

"Could you please have someone contact the Interpreter's Office, and find out the cause of the hold up?" His authoritative yet professional tone of voice made Izzie's stomach flutter in attraction.

"Would you still like them to send someone down?" the nurse asked, with a quick worried glance towards their patient.

He smiled pleasantly back at her concern, and soothed, "No just find out for now, I've got this one." Izzie noted that his answer was just as surprising to the nurse, as herself. After the Latina left with a polite nod, the senior surgeon mentioned, "Rebecca is a wonderful team leader, with years of experience. She could be a great resource through your residency, Dr. Stevens."

Izzie smiled at him and once again fidgeted nervously at her bangs, at having his attention directed solely at her, "Yes sir, I mean Dr." she quickly corrected, thinking back on his response to Bailey.

As they reached Mrs. Lu and she saw a new face, the slight woman tried again to communicate. "Wǒ de nǚ'ér zài wàimiàn, tā de tóu zài liúxuè. Wǒ xiǎng bāngzhù tā, dàn bùnéng. (My daughter is outside and her head is bleeding. I want to help her but can not)"

Whatever she said, made Dr. Potter-Black pause slightly, before he sat down on a rolling stool, by the woman's side, placing the cooler by his feet, and shocked Izzie, when he said, "Nǐ hǎo, wǒ jiào Hālǐsēn Bō tè-Bùláikè, wǒ shì yī míng yīshēng. Bàoqiàn, āyí huāle zhème cháng shíjiān lái bāngzhù nín. Nǐ nǚ'ér xǐngzhe shuōhuà ma? (Hello, my name is Harrison Potter-Black, I am a doctor. I am sorry it took so long for someone to help you, aunt. Is your daughter awake and speaking?)"

Izzie was completely taken aback by his smoothly spoken Chinese sounding just like a true native's and found herself leaning closer to the man in interest. Damn! That's sexy as all get out. She also observed some of the other staff members sending subtle yet curious glances towards their department leader.

"Shì de, tā zài wàimiàn děng. Gōngzuò zhōng de yī tái jīqì shuāi xiàlái, gē shāngle tóu (Yes, she is waiting outside. A machine at work fell and cut her head)," the woman said more enthusiastically than before, her gestures were also much more open as she allowed the doctor to examine her arm.

Clearly satisfied that the wound was stable for now, he asked, "Tā wèishéme bù jìnlái (Why did she not come inside)?"

Whatever he asked, made the woman glance around nervously, before she dropped her voice to reply, "Tā bùnéng jìnlái, wǒmen pà tā huì rù yù (She can not come in, we are scared she will go to jail)," at his inquiring look, she went on to say, "Wǒ yǒu lǜkǎ, tā méiyǒu (I have a green card, she does not)."

He nodded at her, asked for a new intake form, and spent the next few minutes filling out a new one for her in English, making sure to fill in all the blanks. Then with a few more words in Chinese, he handed the chart to Izzie, and instructed, "Mrs. Lu has consented for treatment. Take her for an x-ray, and suture her laceration."

"Why wouldn't she let me treat her before," Izzie asked with curiosity.

"She was trying to convince someone to go look at her daughter's head wound outside," and at seeing her confusion, added, "she's not legal, and they're worried about her being deported. I'll go see to the daughter while you take care of her arm." Finished giving his orders, Dr. Potter-Black picked up his cooler, and went to take care of the rest.

Now, she was really starting to wonder what was in there.

Harry's POV

After speaking to his lead nurse, Rebecca, he added another think to the steady growing list of things he needed to bring up with Richard. He looked up, hoping for whatever entities existed, to grant him patience. Apparently, the hospital only had one Chinese interpreter on staff and they were currently with another patient being prepped for surgery. Additionally, they only had patient forms in Spanish. Harry was trying extremely hard not to bang his head against a wall.

He was currently waiting on Mindy, one of their techs, to gather supplies for him to go check on their patient's daughter outside. He turned his focus on Rebecca when he saw her sidle up to stand by his side.

"So… you speak Chinese very fluently," she said, and Harry wondered if it was supposed to be a statement, question or a combination of both. He noticed some of the others unobtrusively tracking their conversations, and he did an internal eye roll at what unapologetic gossips hospital staff could be. He'd learned to ignore and live with it over the years, truly.

"It's mostly from my various stints with the U.N. and Red Cross," he explained, hoping to pass it off blasély. Like with Burke in the OR, he couldn't exactly admit to this, along with his abilities to see bonds, being part and parcel of his Deathly abilities.

"Hmm, I've heard mention that you have a talent for languages, and is that the penis?" Yup, gossip.

"I'm good at picking up languages. Which reminds me, the office should probably be aware that I'm certified in several languages to act as a medical interpreter, it came in handy while I was in the field. So next time something like this occurs, let me know."

Rebecca gave him an impressed look, nodded at the information, and kept staring at him, until he broke down and sighed, "Yes, this is the penis. Why do people find that so fascinating?"

"Because it's a penis, Dr. Potter-Black," interrupted Mindy, a petite brunette with youthful hazel eyes, as she arrived with the supplies, but instead of grabbing them from her, he once again picked up the cooler, and had her tag along for assistance.

"Um, where is she?" asked the tech, not seeing anyone once they arrived outside.

Tapping into another one of his 'abilities', this one to sense vital energies, he located someone hiding among the dumpsters, and informed Mindy he thought he saw something there.

"Ahn?" he called out, addressing her as her mother had informed him. On hearing the sound of shuffling, he approached slowly so as not to frighten her, and saw the gruesome cut on her forehead.

The young girl was looking at them nervously, and hunched more into herself. Harry kneeled down to her position in order to seem less intimidating, and allowed a bit of his magic to radiate out. It was a technique he often used during his time volunteering abroad, where people were more prone to being wary of strangers and authority figures.

"Lu Ahn, wǒ jiào Bōtè-Bùláikè yīshēng. Nín de mǔqīn xiànzài zhèngzài jiēshòu shǒubì zhìliáo, tā yīzhí fēicháng dānxīn nín. Wǒ kěyǐ kàn kàn nǐ de shāngkǒu ma (Lu Ahn, my name is Doctor Potter-Black. Your mother is getting her arm treated right now, and she has been very worried about you. May I look at your wound)?"

At her acquiescence, he moved forward to take a closer look, and knew right away that she needed a CT scan at the very least and told her so. Along with being scared, the girl was shivering from sitting in the Seattle rain for who knows how long.

"No, please, I no go inside, I be sent to jail, my mother be left all alone. Please, you make bleeding stop here?" she asked in broken, accented English.

Despite the sympathy he felt for her plight, he couldn't agree to her request. He not only had to think of what was best for her, but also the ethics of his position. Clenching his teeth in frustration, he tried one last time.

Keeping his tone as even and soothing as possible, he layed out all the facts for her. He reassured her hospitals neither cared about the legal status of their patients, nor were they legally allowed to give that information away. He bluntly informed her if he stitched her now, they had no way of knowing if she might die from complications in a week, or a few hours, leaving her mother to remain in the country all alone. Fortunately, slowly but surely, she came around.

Harry smiled at her in encouragement as he picked up his cooler, and guided her inside. He made a note to let the staff know that he would stitch her up himself. He had a thing against obscene scars on foreheads.

Meredith's POV

Mer was currently sitting by the glass wall in the main lobby, looking out at the hospital's main entrance, and eating her lunch. It was peaceful here, as if everyone was hesitant to speak too loudly, treating this area like the hallowed halls of an institution. She liked it.

"What're you doing down here?" Cristina asked, seeing her as she came in from outside.

"Just needed a quiet place. It's been hectic in the Trauma Unit, and I've been trying to convince Burke to do a consult on this Peds baby. What about you?

"Hiding from Alex," At seeing Mer's look of, 'who?', she explained, "that intern that called you a nurse, yeah, he just got transferred to our team, and Bailey's had him shadowing me all day."

They both had a moment of silence to commiserate at the new addition.

"I kissed Derek," she blurted. She'd wanted to release it all day, and not have to keep this big roiling secret inside.

"You kissed Derek," the Asian intern blandly repeated.

"In the elevator."

"Oh, you kissed him in the elevator," she repeated again with an emotionless face.

"I was having a bad day. I am having a bad day," Mer clarified, hoping that explained her questionable decision making skills.

"Oh, so this is what you do on your bad days. Make out with Dr. McDreamy, and apparently you know McYummy too." She mildly accused, moving over to lean against the wall and cross her arms, to give Mer, 'the look'. The one that meant, 'out with it'.

Mer was slightly taken aback that their relationship didn't even remain secret through two whole shifts. Trying to avoid the inevitable a bit longer, she asked, " McDreamy, I get, but McYummy?" Actually she got that too, knowing how much of an appealing package Harry was, but her brain wanted her to stall.

"Oh come on, I know you know he's one damn tempting example of the male species," Cris said, leering at Mer. "From what I've seen and heard of him, he's seriously good looking, has the most intensely assessing eyes I've ever come across, even I have to admit it's pretty heady. Oh, let's not forget that accent, and that way he has of effortlessly drawing the focus of everyone in the room, God I wish I could do that. Plus, he's competent, successful, certifiably a genius, extremely educated, looks like he could hold his own, sexy to the point of being drool-worthy, and I don't know, he just has this thing, this presence about him. So, I don't know, Yummy seemed to fit." She added a shrug at the finish as if that would explain the rest, and in a weird way, it did.

"Huh, I see you've put a lot of thought into this," teased Mer.

"There is nothing wrong with admiring an accomplished superior," Cristina countered with a glare, and then as if she'd realized what Mer was doing, she redirected with, "Yeah, no. Spill!"

"Well, it's not really that big a deal. High profile mother, absent parent, clashing personalities; Harry found me crying in a closet, when I was eighteen, and he sort of took me under his wing, and sort of maybe unofficially adopted me," she mumbled at the end.

"So you're, what, family?"

Mer couldn't stop the smile from blossoming on her face, "Yeah. Family."

"Mmm. George said Alison was wearing your shoes," Cristina said, doing a complete one-eighty, but that's what she liked about this woman. She knew when to push and when to give her space, and they'd only known each other for a week.

"Yeah. It's weird, right?" Mer's obsession with wearing the same shoes as the rape victim was confusing, even to herself.

"It's weird that you care," Cristina commented, while stealing one of Mer's chips.

"I think it's weird," Mer repeated, just voicing her thoughts.

Just then their attention was drawn outside as they heard a car swerve and, looking through the glass, they saw a man stagger out of his car. His clothes were soaked in blood, focused mainly around his crotch.

"I saw Alison, you can't believe the beating that she took. And then to see this…," Mer whispered to Cristina, as they both stood to the side watching Harry and Bailey operating on the rapist.

"It's like that old saying, you should see the other guy." Cristina darkly returned.

"Why are we not attempting to reattach the severed penis?" Harry asked, in full teaching mode.

"Teeth don't slice, they tear, you can only reattach with a clean cut. If she wanted to slice him off with a knife…," Cristina trailed off as she answered the attending's question.

"Besides, the digestive juices didn't leave much of the flesh to work with," Mer contributed.

"Right, so what do we do?" this time from Bailey.

"Sew him up minus a large part of the family jewels." The Asian intern's tone didn't hold an ounce of sympathy.

"And his outlook?" Bailey asked as Harry fully concentrated on suturing the man's torn penis.

"He'll be urinating out of a bag for a very, very long time," answered Mer.

"Not to mention he'll never be able to have sex again," this from Cristina.

"Oh, too bad." "Shame." Stated Mer and Cristina unsympathetically, feeling like they were the 'peanut gallery'.

"Let's all take a moment to grieve. Clamp." Harry stated apathetically, glaring down at the man with zero pity in his eyes.

Callie's POV

Calliope 'Callie' Torres was a fourth year resident at Seattle Grace Hospital, and a third year resident specializing in Orthopedic Surgery. She was also one of two daughters from an old affluent wizarding family from Florida. Magicals being the way they were, Callie had always come across a bit eccentric, as if she was always marching to her own drums. She was a thick but toned, beautiful Latina, and she owned it, and didn't take shit from anyone.

Callie was currently on her way down to 'The Pit' for an Ortho consult. Dr. Harrison Potter-Black had called and requested her, personally. Well, not her exactly, just any Ortho surgeon, but so not the point. The point was however that she was going to meet one of the biggest names in modern wizarding history. He was pretty much likened to the modern day Merlin.

What Callie was most enthusiastic about though, was meeting another magical who came from a family just as traditional as hers but still chose to practice mundane medicine. Also, the way his family's company, Pev-Rell Innovations, kept finding unobtrusive ways to combine the magical and mundane to make medical advancements beneficial to both worlds, was mind-blowing to her. She couldn't wait to meet him, this was going to be insane. Now, if only she could keep from tripping down the stairwell in her excitement.

Making it into the OR, she spotted him right away next to a patient's bed, and started feeling jittery. As if he sensed her arrival, his gaze circled the room and landed on her. Once she walked over, she only had to take one look into his hypnotic eyes to realize he knew she was magical, which shocked Callie because no where had it ever been mentioned he had the ability to sense magic. And, Holy crap! Can everyone in the room please pause in appreciation at this mouthwatering piece of Man Candy!

"Hi, I'm Calliope Torres, Callie for short, I'm here for the Ortho consult," she introduced herself with a giddy smile.

"Harrison Potter-Black, pleasure to meet you, and please, just get it out now," he joked with an indulgent smile.

Taking the offer, but keeping in mind their environment, she whispered, "Oh My God! I seriously can't believe this is happening. You're Harry Potter, like the Harry Potter. I mean, Wow!" Then leaning a bit closer, she asked, "Is it true, are you really as great as they say?"

With his captivating crystalline irises dancing with mirth, he intimated, "How would I know, I haven't heard what they've been saying about me."

"I can relate," she said thoughtfully, earning a quizzing look from him. "I'm not sure either, what all my family's been saying about me. The rumors are rife with my supposed antics."

"Funny," he commented, smirking in humor.

They'd just finished resetting the femur of a Mr. Carbuncle's, and wasn't that an unfortunate name. Or as Dr. McAlpha, the moniker which had already started making the gossip rounds, had said, "Poor sod."

Callie was pleasantly surprised the more she got to know about this man. He was powerful, that much was obvious by the pressure of his dense aura, and tightly controlled magic shining through his eyes, but more importantly in Callie's books, he was just good people. Down to earth, inviting personality, respectful, had enough of his own confidence he didn't disparage others to raise his own, knew how to laugh at himself, and he cared. Genuinely cared for each and every one of his patients.

Definitely my new role model.

Saying her goodbyes to the Doctor, and some of the other staff she'd worked with today, she turned to leave when she saw the cooler sitting on the nurse station counter.

"Is that what I think it is?" she asked 'Harrison' while pointing towards the red top container. Really wanting a look, she blurted, "Dude, can I see your penis?"

It felt like the entire room stopped breathing and looked at her. She could already envision her mom's voice saying, "Calliope Iphegenia! You did not just say that!'

Callie tilted her head, to hide her face from a second, before turning back to fix this. "Ahem, well, ah, no need to say that, that is not how it was supposed to sound," she said slowly and carefully.

The others were still frozen, eyes shifting between the two as if they were watching a tennis match, waiting for a reaction.

He broke out in open mouthed laughter, eyes tearing a little.

What a jackass!

Straightening back up, he shook off the rest of his, ahem, 'manly giggles', and smirked.

I think I just found my new best friend.

"Go ahead. Just don't touch it, that would be indecent," he said impassively.

I think I'm in love.

Preston's POV

Preston Burke, had always been a man with a plan. He'd graduated first in his class at John Hopkins; pursued a fellowship in Cardiothoracic surgery, one of the highest profile surgical fields; and became the Head of CT at SGH by thirty-six. The next step in his plan was to take over as Chief of Surgery once Richard Webber retired, but that plan had just been placed in danger.

He'd been so confident in his position that Shepherd and Potter-Black's answers had shocked him to his core. While Shepherd had outright admitted the Chief had lured him here with the promise of becoming Chief, Potter-Black had mentioned family, but Preston wasn't fooled. A surgeon as young and celebrated as he would need a big enough reason to leave a place like Mayo Clinic.

Worse yet, when he'd confronted the Chief, the man pretty much told him he thought Burke had stagnated, that despite all he'd done to get where he was, he'd grown complacent, and only did as much as needed, but never step more. That had chaffed deeply, but was he right? Did he no longer have the ambition to help others through his skills?

Even Miranda Bailey, one of their program's most forthright residents, had told him in the most frankest of terms he had a God complex, was cocky, arrogant, bossy, pushy, and self absorbed. Was that really what he had become? Was that how people saw him?

Despite this setback, and that was exactly what this was, Preston had to keep moving forward. He'd never been the most brilliant, but he'd always been the most persistent, and he was not about to give up now.

So he'd followed up on Grey's consult request, after repeatedly blowing her off. He'd never liked poaching patients from other services, he'd always thought it to be underhanded, but her request had been an honest concern for a patient, whose possibly fatal condition might be being overlooked, and she'd been right.

So here he was, operating on a baby with a murmur. Grey stood off to the side, observing the procedure. She deserved it honestly, for all the effort she put into helping this baby. When had he stopped doing that? When had it stopped mattering to him?

Burkes were not quitters, and neither was Preston. He would be better. He would earn the right to be Chief again.

Derek's POV

"How is she?" a quiet voice asked, momentarily startling the Neurosurgeon out of his thoughts. Derek looked from their Allison to Meredith, his eyes lingering for a split-second on the intern before turning back to the chart in his hand.

"No change." Shepherd replied simply, not having much to elaborate on as he continued to flip through the chart. He couldn't bring himself to look at Meredith, not without imagining her in Allison's position instead. Each time he did, a tight ball of dread coiled in the pit of his stomach, pushing all other emotions to the side. He wanted to cherish that fluttery feeling he got when he looked at or even thought about the intern. The way his heart beat faster with every stolen glance, as if he was back in high school experiencing the bloom of his first crush. He hadn't felt like this in a long, long time. Nervous, infatuated, giddy, flirtatious, spontaneous...

"Have you been here all night?"

Derek hummed. "Yup. You know I have four sisters? Very girly, tons of kids." he said quietly, "If I was in a coma, they'd all be here. I'd want them here. Having no one? Can't imagine that." After his father's death, he'd never really been alone. There was always one of his sisters around, mainly Amy as Derek was the closest to her despite their seven-year age gap.

"I can't either. I probably wouldn't be surrounded by as many as you, but I have at least one." Popping a chip into his mouth, Derek finally looked up at the intern.

"Your mother, right. She'd be in here ordering all the surgeons around." Derek voiced with certainty, as he slowly rose from his seat to wash his hands. "She'd fly these cowboys in from Prague to do these amazing medical procedures."

"That's true, I do have my mother." Derek noticed a hidden undercurrent to her answer, but wasn't sure what it could be.

Glancing around the hallway, the surgeon sidled up beside Meredith and leaned against the glass with a small smirk, his mood taking a much more flirtatious turn.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he asked, "So, we're kissing but not dating?" Meredith turned her head to look at the Neurosurgeon and he could see an almost imperceptible smile pulling at her lips.

"I knew that was going to come up."

"Don't get me wrong," He started with a teasing grin, the easy-going attitude replacing his dark thoughts from earlier, "I like the kissing. I'm all for the kissing. More kissing, I say," his smirk getting wider the longer he spoke.

"I have no idea what that was about." Derek's smirk faltered for a moment, at her denial, but he could be stubborn, if that's how she wanted to play it.

"Is it going to happen again? Because if so, I need to bring breath mints, maybe put a condom in my wallet," he teased gently, his tone low as he leaned a bit closer.

"Shut up, now," Meredith rolled her eyes while Derek chuckled and turned back to study Allison through the glass.

"There was this baby up in the nursery. He's brand new. No one's neglected him or damaged him yet. How do we get from there to here? She's wearing my shoes and someone's beat the crap out of her, and she's got nobody." Derek studied Meredith silently and was overwhelmed by a need to pull the dark-blonde into his arms, to chase her pain away and replace it with...whatever the hell he felt for her. Unfortunately, he realized he had a lonely and confused patient to take care of, one who was in the process of waking up.

CHAPTER END

11,187 Words, Updated Mar. 6, 2020

AN: We are still in the search for a Beta reader so please let me know if you notice any mistakes. Also, we had a really hard time coming up with a "Mcname" for Harry so we hope it didn't come across as too awkward because the other option was "McSultry" and that is traditionally used for women so we decided to go with our current one. Let me know how you feel about it as we're still open to other options.