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How To Train Your Auror	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 7512 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I will not make a profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
"I am a human being capable of doing terrible things.
There's lighting striking all over the world
I am a human being capable of doing terrible things.
Run.
You people are mistaken if you think that I'm awake and celebrating anything that I've become."
-Run, AWOLNATION
Listen to the song. Feel the power behind it. Then read this chapter.
First part, Hermione. Second part, Draco. All dark. All revealing.
This is Chapter Ten.
A.
Hermione gripped the edge of the banister as she made her way down the spiral staircase that led into the hallway below. Her legs were still shaking from her encounter with Draco, even after she had spent the majority of the allotted twenty minutes simply staring at herself in the mirror and telling herself to get a grip on reality. She had been swept up in the moment, lost in his touch that still lingered on her skin, even when he was nowhere to be seen.
Something about it was so… forbidden. Was it because she had never sat down to think about him in that light before now? Was it because he was her lost husband's bitter rival? She could only imagine the look Ron would have given her if he could have seen her caught up in that moment. Horrified. Mouth agape. A bit of disgust. She missed those faces he used to make. They had been her little escapes from reality, watching his facial expressions as he tried new every flavored beans, or slipping his mother's scratchy home-knit sweater over his large head. It amazed her she wasn't crying at the thought of Ron now. Maybe she was finally coming to terms with the fact that he was never coming back. But that didn't mean she was anywhere near closure. Not with Draco's secrets looming over her head, as well as Diggle's information on Ron's untimely demise.
Diggle. The thought of him made her stop cold on the last step. His distrust for Malfoy stemmed from practically nowhere except for the fact that he was an ex-Death Eater. Surely he could see what she saw? -No. He couldn't, could he? Because she was supposed to be his eyes and ears. 'Don't trust him.' She remembered Diggle telling her after the Patronus exams. 'He'll do anything to appear chaste.' Would that include saying something so intimate as caring for her? Was she truly in too deep to see the entire picture? Had she been seduced by biasness?
No, she told herself. She'd known Malfoy for such a long time -she knew his tells. Auror Diggle had said it himself. He had encouraged her to get him to open up. And he had. She had cracked him open like a lengthy, crisp book. But it slowly dawned on her that she wasn't sure if this was a story she would want to share with Greg. He didn't need to know all of the details -she was his liaison to figure out if Draco's intentions were in the right place. And she knew, deep down, that he couldn't fool her. His intentions were just as good as hers. And that's just what she would tell Greg when she saw him again. No, she wouldn't share another bit about Draco with him. There were just some things that weren't hers to share.
Share -like the way Draco was willing to share his memories with her. She knew what that meant -that while she allowed him into her mind, he could also see into her thoughts. And that scared the living daylights out of her. Not because she was worried of what she'd see -but of what he would find if he were to pry hard enough. Would he be able to look into her thoughts and see Auror Diggle's schemes? Would he think any less of her? She needed to come clean about it before she let him in. It was a gamble -telling him could just as easily shut him down completely. But the risk of not telling him far outweighed the damage she could cause if she didn't.
Could she keep it from him, she wondered? Not if he was as skilled as he claimed. And she was nowhere near masterful of Occlumency.
Then another thought, one that was only stemmed from the thought of Diggle, crossed the forefront of her mind. What if Draco wanted into her mind not to share his thoughts with her, but to delve deep into hers for information?
The thought made her shiver.
She swallowed, stepped off the last step, and followed the direction of the smell of bacon. It didn't take her long to find the kitchen again, and she was thankful deep down that he hadn't made her sit in the dining room. Not where she got her hideous scars. She hoped she might never step inside there again. She found him sitting atop the counter, a plate of bacon and toast in his left hand, and a strip of bacon in his right. He was just about to bring it to his lips when he noticed her, smirked, and placed it back down. "I waited as long as I could. But I told you twenty minutes."
"S-Sorry about that," she replied, avoiding his gaze. She scooped up the second plate on the other end of the counter and sat on the counter top next to him. "I guess I was just thinking…"
He nodded thoughtfully. "Eat. You'll need your strength."
"For the Legilimency?" She hadn't ever had her head cracked into. Would it hurt?
"Nah. For when I shag you senseless."
She dropped her plate on the floor.
"Gullible much?" His head tilted back as he chuckled. "Of course for the Ligilimency." A small house elf popped into the room and began to clean up the shattered plate off of the floor as another apparated with a second plate. Hermione went to draw her wand from her sock to help clean, but Draco placed his hand on hers and shook his head. "No magic, remember? Not at least until tomorrow."
"R-Right." She watched him withdraw his hand and pick up a bit of bacon off of her plate. She opened her mouth to say thank you to the house elves, but he put the tip of the bacon in her mouth. She gripped it with her teeth, bit off a bit, and chewed.
"Good girl." He smirked, setting the bacon down. They ate in silence for a while, neither of them finding the need to say anything. It was peaceful. Hermione couldn't remember a time, even with Ron, when she could just eat her food without feeling the need to converse. It was an unspoken understanding. And it stayed that way until both of them had cleaned their plates. It was then that Draco withdrew his own wand and magically hovered the empty dishes into the sink.
"Are we going to talk about the kiss?" she asked.
"Probably not." He helped her off of the counter and towered over her. "Best not ruin a moment by dwelling on it."
She blushed. "Of course."
He raised his wand to her temple. "Are you ready?"
"What? Now?"
"How about the first Tuesday in December? Would that work better for you?- Of course now."
"Wouldn't it be more prudent to use a pensieve?"
"There's too much to cover. We don't have that kind of time to kill."
She chewed on her lower lip, afraid to tell him her own secret. "Draco… you should know something first."
"What? That you're a man? Nice try. I can attest that you're not."
"Would you stop being sarcastic for one blasted moment?" she snapped, a bit harsher than she intended. His took a step back, withdrawing his wand.
"Whatever you have to say to me, Hermione, I'm pretty sure I'll find out in a matter of moments." His straightened his back and rotated one of his shoulders as if he were trying to pop the joint. "Besides, I'm fairly certain I have more skeletons in my closet than you do."
"My one skeleton would put a damper on -well, on us."
"Us?" He asked.
"Yes. Our friendship. Or… whatever this is." She read his weary expression and threw a hand up. "I know. Don't speak about it or ruin the moment. But I mean it. I need to tell you before we begin."
He frowned, mulling over her words, before shaking his head once. "No matter how you phrase it, if you let me read your mind, I'll know the intention behind it. Words are just words, Granger. I'd rather just see it for myself, if it's all the same to you."
Her throat closed up as panic bolted through her like a lighting strike. What if he closed her off completely after this? She didn't want to go back to the way things were before, arguing and nitpicking and completely shut out.
"Alright…" she found the strength to say. She closed her eyes. "Just get it over with."
Draco paused, taking in the sight of her. Whatever it was, she was most definitely frightened of the idea of him knowing. It put an uneasy feeling in his stomach. What could Hermione Granger possibly have to hide?
He choked down his questions with a firm swallow and raised his wand. He guessed he would find out. Closing his eyes, he focused on prodding her mind with his own, peeling back layer by layer of the surface thoughts -the nervous tension, the last image of him she had burned into her brain. He saw his lips pulled up in a smirk. He could feel her heart race. Good. He liked that it did.
He searched for her fears, which weren't very hard to find -there were so little. My, what a brave woman she was. He saw his Aunt Bella, but he pushed that aside immediately. No, that was her greatest fear. It wasn't for him to know. He could feel her mind pushing against his, almost trying to block him off as he approached her most recent secret.
"Relax," he whispered to her out loud.
She conceded, allowing him to open up the memory like a chapter in a book. There was Auror Greg Diggle, a bit more dashing than he remembered him in his own mind's eye, sitting across his desk, a thick manila envelope gripped tight within his fingers. Was this her secret? That she was attracted to him? No… there was something more going on. He delved deeper, until he could hear Diggle's voice in his own ears.

"Is that what I'm hearing, Auror Granger?"

He scrubbed over the memory, searching for her reaction. "He was a Death Eater. How could the Ministry let someone like him into the Auror division?"
The words stung like a venomous snake bite. So, she had detested his Death Eater status after all, had she? He felt the real her, here and now, watching with him, and felt her embarrassment. Good, he thought. She deserved it. How could he have fooled himself to think differently of her? But even as he grew angry, it died away almost as soon as it had flared. He could feel her pain. Her honest judgement of him now. It wasn't the same.
"It is no coincidence that I paired you up with Draco Malfoy. Not in the least," said Diggle, drawing him back in.
"Sir?"
"You, out of everyone that was in this room today, know him best. You might not know him on a personal level, but you grew up around him. You know his tells. His weaknesses. I can't investigate him myself. Believe me, I brought it up to the Minister of Magic himself. But I'm sure you have the same question boiling around in that brilliant mind of yours that's the same as mine."
"Why would Draco Malfoy become an Auror? What would he gain from it?"
Draco felt himself being flung out of the memory, but caught himself at the last moment. Focus, he told himself.
"Granger," he said out loud. "Quit fighting this."
"Exactly. -What would an ex-Death Eater gain from becoming an Auror? Sympathy? Penance? Or perhaps something far more sinister?- That is where you come in, Miss Granger." Oh, now this was an interesting development. "Say you'll be my eyes and ears. Say you'll watch Malfoy and report back to me."
"Draco…" he heard her whisper, but he ignored it, shoving himself into the memory. He forced himself to feel her out, noting the apprehension that she had felt for Diggle's offer.
"I'm sorry, sir. I think I'll earn my keep. Same as the rest."
The writing on the manila envelope became the main focus of her memory, now. Weasley's file.
"That's… that's Ron's… that's his file." He watched her reach for it. Watched as Diggle pulled it back.
"Quid Pro Quo, young apprentice…You don't think your husband's death was an accident. ...So, I'll make you that offer again. A guaranteed Auror position at the end of your training, and everything I have on your husband's case for information on Draco Malfoy. His movements. His strengths. Weaknesses. What he eats in the morning. I'll be damned if we let a former Death Eater into this administration without reconnaissance first."
Draco jerked himself out of her head, anger bubbling over the edges of his psyche like boiling water.
"You… you lied to me," he whispered as she opened her eyes. He stepped back, away from her.
"This is why I wanted to tell you." She gulped, eyes pleading with him. "Greg blackmailed me. I had no choice."
"Is that what you tell yourself when you flirt with him? When he flirts with you? When you two literally eye fuck each other from across the room? -You had a choice, Granger." He glared at her. "So what have you told him? Hmm? Did you tell him about my life? About my wife? My child? Did you divulge every single secret I've ever confided in you?"
"Draco, listen to me-"
"Why should I? You have some nerve, Hermione. I bared my soul to you. I thought we had an understanding."
"We do," she whispered, stepping closer. He backed away, though he was torn when he saw tears in her eyes. It took everything in him not to comfort her. He backed up into the counter, feeling the pain in his spine as well as his heart. He was foolish. How could he have thought so highly of her? She was just like everyone else. -She approached him carefully, slowly, assessing his mood as she went. "Draco, look into my mind again. Please." She reached out and touched his hand, but he jerked away. "Please, just one more time. If you don't like what you see, I'll resign from the Auror program tomorrow. You have my word."
That was a heavy promise. "And what good is your word to me, Granger?" he sneered. "You've lied to me from the very beginning."
She grimaced. "I deserve that. I know I do. But if you were in my head right now you'd know I'm telling the truth." She reached for his hand again, and this time he didn't pull away. "Please." Her brown eyes begged him. This was not what he had in mind when he had said she would. He snarled a low, guttural sound and raised his wand to her temple again.
"One chance," he growled. "That's it. Prove. Me. Wrong."
His mind swam in hers again, but this time it was on his drunken display at the fountain last night. How he had made fun of the muggles. He watched himself as he fell backwards into the fountain. He felt her concern for him as she rushed to his aid. He cringed as he saw himself so miserably drunk, but allowed her to continue to show him her memory. The image shimmered -no. That was him. He was shimmering, the moonlight reflecting back at him. Was this truly the way she saw him? He knew he was handsome, but damn. He didn't know just how handsome she had found him. Like an ethereal god.
His lips tugged back in a smirk.
"Focus," she chastised.
Then there was a flood of images flashing one by one like a film. Draco exposing his Dark Mark to her as she exposed her 'Mudblood' arm. Draco holding Scorpius. Her wrapping the baby tightly in her arms. She loved Scorpius. She loved him, genuinely, after only meeting him once. He saw himself laid back on the grass after training, relaxed and glowing under the sun. His steel eyes. His smirk. His laugh. He saw himself kissing her. He felt her heart jump.
Then she was on the staircase, and he read over her memory with detail. He saw her resolve. Her disdain for Diggle forcing her into a situation she no longer wanted to be in. He was so far in her mind, he pushed her to the limits, sifting past what she wanted to show him and into things she wanted kept secret. He saw Weasley, covered in blankets, sick with a cold. He saw them dancing together at their wedding. He saw the closed casket funeral.
"Stop."
The Pandora Mine.
"Draco! I said stop!"
He read her captivation by its design. She had so many questions she wanted answered, one in particular about the part where it explodes… she wanted answers. But her mind was strong. She wouldn't let him see why. He knew he had gone too far -he began to remove himself from the inner workings of her brain.
"Do- do you believe me now?"
He bit his tongue, thinking. Guilt began to consume him. Sighing, he replied, "Against my better judgement… yes."
She let out a heavy breath. "Oh good." Her hand was still in his, he realized, but he didn't remove it. After the anger sluffed off, he rather liked the sensation. "What part changed your mind?"
"All of it." He blinked. "None of it. I'm not sure." He slowly allowed a smile to spread across his face. "You're rather attracted to me, you know."
"Don't get conceited. That's hardly the point."
"No, but it is a point, none the less." He brought her fingers up to his lips and kissed them. "Besides… I hardly have room to hold it against you, do I? You did it for Weasley. I'd have done the same if it had been…" He almost said Astoria's name, but quickly fixed his mistake, "Scorpius. Or any of my family. -You think that if you get your answers about the Mine, you might not need Diggle anymore. Or did I read that wrong?"
"You're correct." She nodded. "Are we good?"
"That depends."
"On what?"
"On what you'll think of me when we're done." Despite her betrayal, he could understand why she had agreed to it. And he could see, deep down, she wouldn't do it again. She cared for him, too, though he had been much too afraid to find out in what way. Finding out that your past childhood competition now thought of you as something else… it was a lot to take in. And it had only just developed. It wasn't like his emotional rollercoaster. She hadn't always had an underlined sexual undertone every time she had quipped him in school. Oh, revelations. How tawdry they were.
"I'll be here on the other side," she assured him. "I'm ready."
"Alright… just… one thing." He leaned down, touching nose to nose with her. It might have been too soon to expect another kiss from her willingly, but he didn't know if he'd ever have another opportunity to. So he stole one, assertively deepening the kiss so that he could remember the exact way she tasted. He'd want to savor this. -He pulled away, pressed his forehead to hers, and opened her mind up again, this time pulling in his own to open like a novel. He found his least favorite chapter, hesitated, and then began to divulge to her. If you're going to run, run now.
A younger, frightened Draco Malfoy sat at a corner table of The White Wyvern, a pub located in Knockturn Alley. His hair was longer, his face thinner, and his sneer was particularly distasteful. Five empty mugs sat scattered about the table, and a sixth one was cradled in his hand like it was a life raft to cling to. This version of Draco was only months out of the War, and it weighed heavily on his disheartened face.
One question repeated in his mind over and over and over again. What did it mean to be a Malfoy now?
Someone approached the table. The window outside was no longer full of bright, gleaming sunlight, but was being beaten against by a downpour of heavy rain. There were no longer mugs surrounding him, but shot glasses and books. Old books. Books that perhaps hadn't been read in centuries. Ones hidden in his father's study at the bottom of a wine cellar. Draco looked older too. More worn. But stable.
"Some heavy reading." A wizard with dark eyes and scruff on his chin motioned to the pile of books on the table as he pulled over a chair and took a seat across from Draco. He had a thick head of white hair, though he couldn't have been older than his late twenties.
"Can I help you?"
"Is this your dissertation?" the man asked, withdrawing a folded parchment from his hand. It was a copy of the thesis paper Draco had written on rudimentary alchemy being combined with complex potions. It was something Professor Snape had told him to apply himself to before he passed, and he had intended to make good on that promise. He had never intended for it to be published. But somewhere along the lines, one thing had led to another…
"It says my name, doesn't it?" He smirked half-heartedly.
"So you are Draco Lucius Malfoy? The Draco Malfoy?" The man looked nearly impressed. It was something Draco had not seen as of late; The Malfoy name was sullied beyond compare.
"If you know who I am, you know not to come near me." He gestured to his exposed Dark Mark. "I'm scum, haven't you heard? All over the papers."
"Ah. Yes." The man nodded. "If I had that, I wouldn't flaunt it around."
"Is that what you think I'm doing?"
"Well you're not exactly covering it up, are you?" The man extended his hand. "Cane's the name. Bastian Cane."
Draco raised a cool eyebrow but did not take it. "Is that all? Sort of simple, isn't it?"
"Sometimes the best names are." Cane did not retract his hand, and with a cross huff Draco shook it, noticing how deathly cold it was. Or maybe that was just his aura. Who could be sure? Those black eyes reminded Draco of a goat; dead, emotionless. "Anyways, Draco -May I call you Draco?"
"No."
"Right. Well, Draco." Cane ignored him. "I've noticed you've been in this pub nearly every night this month. Something special about the atmosphere here or…?" He turned his head, following Draco's direction. A woman sat perched at the bar top in a silver corset dress with black high heels. Her brown hair waved in ringlets down her back, and her red lips sipped on some sort of wine. She was reading some muggle book of that he was sure. "I could introduce you, if you'd like."
"You know her?" asked Draco.
"Hardly. But I doubt you'll have the gull."
"Bugger off."
"Now, Draco, I meant no disrespect. I'm here to help you."
"Well I never asked for anyone's help. I know how to talk to women."
Cane leaned in close, his sharp nose and cold black eyes reminding Draco of a shark. "This isn't about that pretty jewel at the bar. This is about your dissertation. Do you believe it's possible? Mixing alchemy with potions to create new sorts of magic?"
Draco nodded slowly. Bastian Cane's lips pulled back wide in a dastardly smile. "I'm in the position to make you an offer, Draco Malfoy."
"I'm not interested in money."
"No, you have loads of that. What I offer isn't money or power. What I offer you is your status back within society. Wouldn't you like to be a part of something great? Something that would make the world look past that Mark on your arm?"
Draco glanced down at the sullied tattoo and pulled his sleeves down. "Bastian, there's nothing you could to do get someone to look past this." The table grew quiet as Draco mulled around Cane's words. He glanced up towards the woman that had inadvertently drawn his attention from the moment she had walked in nearly a month ago.
"What if I could make that mark go away?"
A chill cracked over Draco's head like an egg, dripping down into his very bones. "That's not possible."
"Anything is possible. You just have to know where to look for answers -like your books. And my resources. Together, we could find a way…"
"And what's in it for you?"
"Results, Mr. Malfoy. The same magic that could strip you of that heinous mark could just as well benefit my cause as well."
"…What is your cause?"
"All in good time, Draco. As it stands… I think you're long overdue for an introduction with that beautiful creature over there. Excuse me for one moment." Bastian Cane arose from his chair, tilted his pointed face towards the woman, and stumbled over to the bar in full façade. In his best imitation of a drunkard, he knocked over her martini glass onto her book.
"Excuse you!" The woman sneered as the alcohol began to drip from the pages and down onto her lap.
"Sorry, Miss." Bastian grinned sluggishly. "Had a bit too much in me. I just had to come over here and tell you that you are so fetching."
"Not interested."
"Of course you are. You're alone in a bar, aren't you?"
Angered flared in Draco. He rose from his chair and grabbed Bastian by the scruff of his collar. "Look, obviously she doesn't want to be bothered. So why don't you just shove off?"
Bastian Cane gave a sly wink. It startled Draco, but the woman didn't see. "Sorry, mate. Didn't realize she was spoken for." As he stepped back away from Draco, he slipped a card into his pocket. "See you around." He left the bar at once, slipping his long fingers into his pockets as he stepped out into the rain.
"What an idiot," the woman mumbled, extending her wand to scourgify the mess on her book and lap. Draco tipped the glass back upright and asked the bartender for a new drink. The woman rose an eyebrow and added, "Are you going to try to hit on me too, now?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, tossing a few galleons onto the bar top. "Sorry about him. He was trying to get you to talk to me."
"Do we know each other?"
"Oh, no. I doubt it. Though… I do believe I went to school with your sister, Daphne."
"Hmmm…" She eyed him over. "White blonde hair and silver eyes. You must be a Malfoy."
"Draco." He extended his hand to her. "And yes, Malfoy is my surname."
"It's nice to meet you, Draco." She smiled to him and took his hand. "Astoria."
The scene dissolved, and was replaced with an old, dusty study.
"You told me that you thought there was a way to remove this." Draco extended his arm out to Cane. "So, tell me what you had in mind."
"I'm interested to see what results occur when you aren't shackled by the Ministry regulations. If… I were to provide the materials you would need to experiment on how to remove your Dark Mark, I would require your services in my endeavors in return."
"And what exactly are those endeavors?"
"Glad you asked."
On the table sat a small, blue stone.
"What is it?" Draco asked.
"Why don't you find out? Touch it."
"Nice try. Do you really think I can't feel the energy coming off of it? It's cursed."
"Is it? Oh dear. I suppose you're just too smart for me." Cane smirked. He snapped his fingers, and the door opened behind them. Two burly looking men entered, dragging an unconscious man. "This is Frederick Tollman. Perhaps you've heard of him?"
"He's Azkaban's most wanted man," Draco answered in awe.
"That's right. Wanted for the murder of six muggles." Bastian Cane eyed him over with curiosity. "How does that make you feel, Draco?"
"How does what make me feel?"
"He murdered six human beings. But they were muggles. Does that alleviate him from justice in your eyes?"
Draco glanced down at his covered arm, pondering. "No. Murder is murder."
"Murder is murder. Yes. I quite agree."
"How did you capture him?"
"I have quite an ensemble of wizards at my disposal who share my feelings towards scum like him. And when you're above the law, you find it easier to nab the big fish."
"So why not turn him in?"
"Because, I needed someone to show the effects of the stone. Why not someone who deserves to have justice thrust upon him?" Bastian waved his hand over the man's face. With a quick jerk, Tollman awoke.
"Bloody 'ell!" he shouted, flailing wildly, but the two muscle men kept him in place. "What's the meanin' o' this!?"
"You'll forgive me if I skip right to the dark magic, yes? I really am on a tight schedule. Imperio." Frederick's face gave way to relaxation. "Touch the stone," Cane ordered.
Frederick Tollman nodded, his eyes glazed. "Touch the stone." Cane's lackeys released him, and he walked over towards the desk. His hand reached out to grasp the beautiful blue object. The closer he got, the brighter the stone grew. "Touch the stone…" Draco watched, half in horror, half in curiousness, as Tollman gripped the stone tight in his hand. Immediately, a pulse burst from it, sending a wave of hot magic through the air like lighting. Tollman screamed out in pain and collapsed to the floor. The stone fell from his hand and rolled onto the wooden slats at Cane's shoes.
"What… what the Hell?" Draco furrowed his eyebrows together, stepping back.
"Frederick Tollman no longer possesses magic," Cane replied, his thin lips drawing back in a grin. "Frightening, yes?"
"This is mental."
"This is the power of the Pandora stone. -Oh, don't give me that look, Draco Malfoy. What do you think was in that mythological jar from Zeus? Cake?" He chuckled. "It was said that all of the evils of the world were unleashed from Pandora's Box. What the Greeks failed to realize was that it had all stemmed from this beauty. -Pandora was once a witch. But with the power of this… it was all taken from her. Such glorious unknown magic, untapped. That's where you come in. - If you could find a way to strip down the magical components and separate them, it is very plausible that this stone could help you remove the one piece of magic that has been permanently bonded to you."
It was written all over Draco's face: intrigue. "My theories are just that- theories. They've never been tested…"
"And I'm sure the same thing was said about the wand before it's invention."
"If that thing has the power to strip magic, I want no part of it." He tried to convince himself, but it wasn't working. He could feel the pull from the stone -the allure of it all. "Besides, should I touch it…"
"Yes, should you touch it, you'd very well lose every bit of magic. Which is why I give you a gift." Bastian gestured to the floor; to Frederick. "The stone only affects magic around it. Someone who is stripped of magic will no longer feel the effects of the stone."
"You want me to use him?"
"I want you to use whatever means necessary to do your work."
"So you'd just… give me this stone? Freely? Of your own will?"
"Of course not. Everything comes with a price. I want you to synthesize this magic for me on a grander scale. I give this stone to you, you give me the means to protect muggles from filth like him."
"Why me? Why not someone else?"
"Simple. -I feel you're quite motivated to remove that Mark at all costs. And I have the motivation to protect muggles at all costs. As it stands, working with a former Death Eater is hardly on my list of things to do. But you're the only one I feel is capable of unlocking these secrets. And besides… we both know you're not one to follow the rules. Quid pro quos, yes? I give you the means to live a normal life free of your mistakes, and you..." He looked at him expectantly.
"You want me to build you weapons."
"And Bingo was his name-o." Bastian Cane's dead eyes grew even darker. "What say you, Draco? Would you be interested in making a deal with the devil for your soul?"
More answers to come. Please leave a review in the little box. It helps keep the self-doubt trolls at bay.
Love, A.
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How To Train Your Auror