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How To Train Your Auror 2: Family Ties	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 7990 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I will not make a profit from this story

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Thank you, Waymay, for all of your help!
Remember, nothing is ever as it seems, so if you feel frustrated, that's great, but know that I have got you.
~A.
Permanent jet lag
Please take me back (please take me back)
Please take me back
I'm a stray dog sick
Please let me in (please let me in)
The mad key's tripping
Singing vows before we exchange smoke rings
Give me a pen
Call me
Mr. Benzedrine
But don't let the doctor in
I wanna blow off steam
"20 Dollar Nose Bleed" by Fall Out Boy
Draco sat inside the interrogation office of the Ministry, his head throbbing with pain. The only image that resounded behind his eyelids was the lifeless body of Lindy Bolt as Ministry Officials zipped her body up in a black bag and carried her away to the morgue. With shaky hands, he reached out to the bottle of water next to his hand, but hesitated at the last moment and stopped. His mind revoked the idea of nourishment in any form; he wanted to suffer. It would, in a sick way, give him something to feel as atonement for his sins; past, present, and future. Hermione was asked to stay outside of the room while the Ministry questioned him and took statements. He knew there was nothing he could do to alleviate the trouble in her mind, no more than he could his own. It was as if he could sense her presence on the other side of the door, and that gave him comfort.
Potter entered from another door to Draco's left, carrying a quill, ink, parchment, and dark circles under his eyes. He sat down, pulled the stopper from his ink, and inhaled deeply. "Please state your name, for the record."
"…Draco Lucius Malfoy."
"Start from the beginning."
Draco glanced quickly down to his hands, still covered in dried blood. "I told Bolt to meet me at the edge of the Forbidden Forest after she escorted Victoria Crabbe to her dormitory."
"What were you doing before then?"
"You know bloody well."
"I have to ask you. For Ministry records." Potter looked worn, but firm in his resolve. He carried all the grace of a lead Auror. "Now, state it for the record."
"I used Legilimency on Victoria Crabbe to search the vision she'd been having about a white wolf. Her visions led me to believe that the assailant was hiding out in the Forbidden Forest, so I took Lindy with me to investigate."
"What did you find? In the woods?"
Draco closed his eyes. "Death," he whispered. "So much death."
"More specifically."
"More specifically, a tosser with a hood shot Lindy through the chest with an arrow. Is that what you want to hear, you sod?" Draco snapped, tearing his eyes open. "I watched it happen. I watched her die, in my arms! Is that what you want to hear?!"
Potter scribbled down on his parchment, face void of emotions. "Go on. Tell me about this person in the hood."
"There was a girl with him. She called him 'Bruno.' I didn't get much else than that. He had darker skin and a deep voice. The girl couldn't have been more than fourteen, if that. Short. Brown hair. Olive skin." He tried to recall the color of her eyes, but all he could see was the golden flecks of the fox she'd turned into. "I don't remember much else about them."
"Was there anyone else?"
Draco knew this part of the interrogation was where it would count. "No one else. They… they cornered me in the woods. Took my wand. I used wandless magic to escape, and…" The guilt from lying bubbled away in his chest like acid, rotting his conscience away. "I grabbed Lindy's body and got the Hell out of there."
Potter glanced up from his parchment, his green eyes glimmering from behind his glasses. "And that's it? They didn't say anything else?"
"I didn't give them much of a chance." Draco stared definitively at his superior, and Potter nodded.
"I see." He nodded once. "If you're sure there's nothing else…" Potter allowed his voice to trail off. Draco and Harry shared unspoken words, and Draco nodded in response. "Very well. Are you sure this is the way you want to play it?"
Draco raised a cautious eyebrow. "Do you doubt my intentions?"
Harry stared at him for a time before responding. "Of course not." He blew on the parchment to dry the ink, curled the scroll back up, and gathered his things. "Go home, Auror Malfoy. Get some rest. I'll send Auror Garrison to… inform Lindy's family…"
Draco tore his eyes away, back to the table. "I should do it."
"No." Potter shook his head. "Your obligation, at this moment, is to Hermione. She's a nervous wreck out there." He sighed, running his hands through his jet-black hair. "Hermione will fill you in on what we've uncovered at Azkaban. -I've been told your son has been released early and sent home."
Draco gave an appreciative nod and found Potter's eyes once more. "Thanks."
"Welcome." Potter left him, and Draco sat his forehead on the desk, soaking in the silence for a few more minutes before he would have to bold-face lie to his fiancé. He wasn't sure he could stomach it, but he'd have to try. For Scorpius. For Victoria. For Hermione, herself.
Hermione held the envelope between her fingers, seated on a Ministry bench in the hallway of the interrogation hall. It killed her to think of Draco crying the way he did when he'd brought Lindy's body from the woods, and it was all she could see when she closed her eyes. It was to the point where she hardly dared blink. Staring at Diggle's letter, she mulled over if now would be as good a time as any to read it. Her emotions were in a tizzy, and she had no idea how to fix anything. The feeling of helplessness was what drove her to tear open the side of the letter and remove it parchment within.
Diggle's handwriting was neither messy or neat. One could deduce the sense of purpose behind the quill that wrote this, as if life hung in the balance. Glancing from one end of the hall to the other, ensuring she was alone, Hermione began to read.
'Hermione,
If this message should find you, it means that you have found it in your heart, in some way, to allow me to right my wrongdoings. And before you tear this message apart, know that I do not presume to know what is in your heart. But I do know what is in mine: remorse. Remorse, and a want to gift you with what I stole from you.'
She stopped reading momentarily, furrowing her brows. What did that mean? she wondered.
'But before I begin my quest to atonement, I must tell you how dreadfully sorry I am for everything. You have to understand when I began my quest for retribution, I never intended to wield the grey magic in such a way as to hurt anyone. My endeavors with Malfoy were, in the beginning, purely out of the want to protect muggles. But with time, and the gray magic, my heart became twisted. I couldn't see past my own selfish practices, and for that, I am sorry. Truly.
You deserve to know the truth, and I will always strive to give it to you.
Inside this letter, I have left clues for you to obtain the resurrection stone, as well as instructions. These will, should you decide to, give you back what I have stolen from you: your husband, Ronald Weasley. As I'm sure it is in the open by now, you know as well as I do that this feat is possible, but I do not sway you on either side of your journey to a decision. Your heart belongs to you, and you must decide how you would like to proceed in life. You, no doubt, see yourself with Draco Malfoy in the future, but I offer you another option. Take back the life that was stolen. Right my wrong, should you want to. Unfortunately, I cannot give you any clues as to how to decipher my instructions, but you're a brilliant witch, and I have no doubt that you will figure it out.
All of my unrequited love,
Gregory Diggle'
There were no words to describe what Hermione Granger felt in that moment. She simply stared at the parchment, reading and rereading the words as if they would melt away into some other worldly nuance. …Bring Ron back from the dead? Was it possible?
Of course it was. Abraxas Malfoy would be a shining example of that. But where was the proof? How could she know, in her heart of hearts, if what Diggle said tonight was even remotely possible? Maybe he was trying to lead Harry and her on a wild goose chase? She had no clue what to think, so she tucked the paper back into its envelope and stowed it away inside her robes. Later, she told herself, when she could think on it properly, she would. But not now. Not with Draco on the other side of that wall.
Draco.
What would he make of all this?
As if fate called to her, the door to the interrogation office swung open, and an exhausted, grief stricken Draco emerged, carrying his letter for release and a look of pure humility as his eyes connected with Hermione's.
"Draco," she whispered, tearing across the hall and throwing herself against him, arms around his torso and face buried in his chest. "You're alright. Merlin, you're alright. -What happened? You hardly said a word to me since Hogwarts. I have so many questions. What happened? What did you find in the woods? How did Lindy-"
His expression pained as he cut her off. "-Not… right now. Just. Please. Not right now." He allowed his arms to drape over her. "I promise, I want to talk about it, but… for now, let's go home."
"Alright." She nodded, knowing when to back down. "Let's go home."
Home, it turned out, was anything but where Draco Malfoy wanted to be. Expecting to come home to an empty house, he was surprised as he stepped out of the floo to be met with Dean Thomas, Astoria, Auror Jameson, his Mother and Father, and a grey kitten that curled up on top of the armchair of the sofa.
"Draco! Mate!" Dean shouted at once, his voice vibrating in Draco's eardrums and making him wince. "Sorry. Erm… hi!"
Hermione stepped out of the floo next, and as her eyes cast around the room, she blanched. "Oh my… um… hello." She immediately turned to Astoria. "Scorpius?"
"Sleeping upstairs," she replied, a hint of humility in her voice. "Hermione, I really should apologize. I reacted poorly, earlier, and-"
"There's no need," Hermione said quickly, throwing her hand up. "You were scared. We all were. I understand."
"Well I don't," said Draco at once, glaring to each and every soul in the room. "What the bloody Hell is everyone doing in my home?"
"It's a long story," said Dean, apologetically. "See, I offered to bring Hermione's kitten to Scorpius this morning, and-"
"-I don't care about that," Draco said crisply, throwing his hand up to silence his friend. His eyes rested on Lucius and Narcissa, his heart filling with ice. "What are you doing here?"
"I invited them," Astoria said, standing from her seat and looking Draco challengingly in the eyes.
"Tori. Kitchen. Now."
Astoria ran her hands down the pleats of her skirt, and she curtsied to everyone in the room before walking past Draco, a poise of dominance glowing from her as she sauntered out of the room, Draco on her heels. He couldn't believe she would have the audacity to make this decision without him. His nerves were already worked to the quick from Lindy's death to Abraxas Malfoy to lying to all of the people he cared about, and this was the last thing he needed at the moment. When they rounded the corner near the kitchen doorway, he started in, his voice harsh and chastising.
"You brought my parents into my home? Around Scorpius? Without consulting me first?"
"What was I supposed to do?" she snapped back, crossing her arms, her superiority gone within an instant. "Auror Thomas showed up at St. Mungo's with your parents in tow! What would you have me do? Throw them out?!"
"Of course! Obviously!" He threw his hands up in frustration.
"You weren't there to make that choice. I was." She stiffened her posture. "And after I let them into Scorpius's room, we received orders from the Ministry that we're all to stay at the Malfoy Manor for the time being. So, frankly, it was out of my control."
"Orders? What the-"
"That would be my fault," Hermione said softly from behind them, and the two turned around to find her standing a few feet away, hands tucked behind her back and a look of remorse upon her face. "I gave Dean the Auror Training, and took over watch on your parents…"
"This is your doing?" Draco snapped, watching Hermione's face turn into one of pure frustration.
"If you need someone to blame, I suppose it is."
Draco threw his hands up into the air for a second time, and, without thinking, punched the stone wall next to him. Pain surged up the muscles in his arms, and he bit his tongue to keep from screaming out. Waving his offended knuckles, he muttered, "Fuck…"
"You should talk to them," Astoria offered.
Draco met her gaze and shook his head. "No. Not tonight… tonight I…" He glanced down to his shaking hands, and Astoria followed.
"Is that blood?" She gasped. "What happened?"
"I'll tell you later," Hermione said at once, "But right now, I think Draco needs to sleep."
Astoria looked between the two, nodding. "You look like you've been through Hell."
"Something like that," Draco admitted. "Just… keep my father out of my sights for the time being." He felt Hermione's arm wrap around his own, and he allowed her to lead him away from his ex-wife and up the spiraling staircase that led towards their bedroom. It took everything in him not to break down crying again when they slipped into the room, but he kept his cool demeanor as he took a seat on the chaise lounge.
"I'm going to run you a bath," Hermione told him, kissing him on the cheek, but she felt miles away. So wrapped up in his own thoughts, Draco could only nod in response, glancing down to his bruised knuckles. Time pressed on slowly, the sound of a bath being run was the only thing filling his perceptions as he closed his eyes. It wasn't until Hermione returned, tapping him on the arm, that he allowed himself to feel anything again. As his grey eyes met the warmth of her brown, he felt himself anchor to her calm nature. "Come on. Up you get." She pulled him up by the arm, draping it around her shoulder and guiding him towards the bathroom.
"I snapped at you," he said quietly, furrowing his brow. "Why are you being nice to me?"
"Don't sour it up by commenting on it," she quipped, giving him a lopsided smile. Once in the bathroom, she began to peel off his clothing layer by layer. He let her, leaning in to the way her fingers grazed over his skin, hot like electricity. "Draco, your grandfather… Diggle told us some things."
"I know," Draco replied, quiet. "I… please, not now." He turned around wash his hands in the sink, scrubbing off Lindy's blood. He couldn't stand to look at it a moment longer. When he finished and dried his hands on a towel, he turned back to her.
"Alright."
Her hands went to his buckle, and he overlapped his fingers across hers. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
"Hermione." He slipped a hand under her chin and tilted her head up to look at him. "I mean it. I love you, more than myself. You mean the world to me. You and Scorpius." He needed her to know, before what came next. Before her perception of him changed entirely.
"I know," she whispered, smiling sadly. "You don't need to reassure me. I know."
She went back to work on his buckle, slipping his belt from around his hips and tossing it to the floor. Next, she removed his pants, and with tender movements, his underwear as well. And even though he physically stood naked before her, he never felt more guarded. Swallowing down a hard lump in his throat, Draco shimmied his ankles out of his pants and made his way to the tub. One foot, and then the other, he slid into the bath and sighed a breath of relief as the healing herbs tingled his skin. It was too bad they could never mend the irreparable damage done to Draco's emotional state.
"Should I… go?" Hermione asked, standing awkwardly on the other side of the room. Draco responded by extending an arm over the tub's edge. She understood, and walked up to his side, kneeling beside the bathtub.
They said nothing for a time, simply staring into each other's eyes and occasionally glancing off in other directions. Finally, Draco said, "I watched her die, Hermione. There was nothing I could do… she just…" He closed his eyes, forcing himself to stay his tears. "I keeping replaying her face as she dies over and over again in my mind. I can't stop it. Nothing I do…" He reached out and traced her jaw with his thumb. "Help me, Hermione. I need…"
"A distraction," she offered, voice solemn. "Are you sure that's what you want?"
"Yes." He tightened his jaw to keep from sobbing like the blubbering idiot he'd turned into this evening. "Please."
He felt her pull away, and his eyes opened, expecting her to have retreated towards the door, but instead found her standing above him, eyes firm with tenacity. She wiped a stray tear out of the corner of her eye and reached up to her robes, unclasping them. Draco knew it was unfair to ask her in the first place, but he couldn't think of anything else that would distract him from the pain he felt in his chest and heart. Guilt was a fickle bitch, but if he could divert his attention for even a little while, he could breathe again. Piece by piece, Hermione removed her clothes, and, after tossing them far from the tub, she climbed in with him, resting her legs on the sides of his hips, settling into his lap. Draco felt his pulse race as he took in the sight of her perfectly supple breasts and taut stomach that led down to the crease between her thighs. Merlin, she was a beautiful woman. And she deserved so much better.
Her brown eyes glistened back at him as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, calming and steady. It grounded his emotions to this one physical act; he could please Hermione. His hands scooped the sides of her face as he coaxed her mouth open with a lick to the apex of her lips. As the flesh of her tongue met his, he couldn't think of anything else but how exquisite she tasted, and how much he wanted to show her his love for her. He didn't care if the entire house full of people would hear her moan in pleasure, as long as he could give it to her. As long as he could tell her, once more, before it all went to shit, that she meant the world to him.
One hand slipped down between her legs, and without hesitation, he traced delicate circles along her clit, stirring a soft moan from Hermione's lips. Despite all of the pain he'd endured tonight, his cock still lit to life at the sound, betraying and selfish. He leaned forward, taking a nipple into his mouth while pressing his middle finger into her. Hermione gasped, eyes falling closed, and it was glorious.
He built her up until she moved against his hand in earnest, and when she could take it no longer, she begged him, "Please, Draco."
In a slur of moments, he removed his hand, positioned himself beneath her, and sunk her down onto his length. Hermione's gasp was music to his ears, and he began to rock her hips in slow, meaningful grinds against his pelvis, lost in the way her eyes fell closed in bliss. Gone were his terrible thoughts, if only for the time being, and all that mattered were Hermione's breasts as they bounced and the moans that escaped her lips.
An hour later, with the water cold and their brains pulsing with oxytocin, Draco sent Hermione into her fifth orgasm, head falling back as he finally allowed himself the luxury of release along with her. His head leaned back against the tub's headrest, his eyes never leaving her face as she shuddered above him, pink tinging her cheeks in a stunning display. When she came down from her orgasmic high, her eyes came open once again, and she fell forward, leaning her face into the crook of his neck.
Draco embraced her tightly and whispered, "Thank you."
She nuzzled into his neck, yawning. "How are you feeling?"
"Numb," he answered her, honest. "You?"
"Same."
Draco sat up in the tub, taking her with him, and met her face, nose to nose. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry?"
"For asking this of you. For…"
"Don't." She shook her head. "We can get through this, alright? We can get through anything. I know it. Let's get you into bed. We'll deal with it all in the morning."
"You deserve so much more than me."
There was a pensive stare before she said, "Don't talk that way."
Draco nodded slowly, pressing his lips to hers, the guilt rising to his chest again. He wanted, so desperately, to tell her all that had transpired in the woods, but to do so would sign a death warrant to her name. No, he would have to face these demons alone. He would have to face Abraxas alone, and he would need to keep Hermione out of it. For her sake, and for his.
- 11
- 12
- 13
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How To Train Your Auror 2: Family Ties