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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
- 12
- 13
- 14
I wrote this in a perfectly bleak mood, and I think it carries well with the story. I didn't know my father growing up. I've only recently met him. He came to my wedding. He introduced me to his family. -Recently, my father has fallen off the bandwagon. His sins have come back to haunt him. I feel for him, but I feel for his lovely wife more. I feel so much like Draco in the story, learning the truth about our fathers' sins, come to roost. Stay strong, I tell myself. I am not my father's sins.
~A.
A very special thank you to Waymay for editing/enjoying this chapter as much as myself. My heart goes out to you, Way. Empire, Chapter 3 up! GO CHECK IT OUT!
Also, I have posted a one shot story, Pitch, also a Dramione. Feel free to give it a look.
There's a leak in this boat
Someone toss me a rope
And a headrest for my, headrest for my soul
There's a leak in this boat
How the hell will I float
With this headrest for my, headrest for my soul
I got a headrest for my, headrest for my soul
Let the whispers unfold
And darling do what you're told
Headrest for my, headrest for my soul
"Headrest For My Soul" Awolnation
Day One
Hermione awoke with to the sun on her face and a pain in her chest. Last night's dreams felt so real this time… Ron, standing across the platform from her, shaking head to toe as he said, 'I do.' Hermione, in her yellow sundress and favorite black flats, carrying a bouquet of daisies. Not some grand wedding like Molly Weasley wanted, but it fit, saying their vows at Platform Nine and Three Quarters. It was where they began their adventure together, and it would be where they would start the rest of their lives. Harry, pretending he had dirt in his eye to save face because he was crying. Ginny, openly, grinning from ear-to-ear.
The guilt ate at Hermione like eroding acid. She shouldn't have been dreaming about Ron like he was still alive. It hurt her heart to know that, tucked inside her robes on the other side of the room, held the secret to bringing him back. And it was even worse, Hermione realized, when she didn't want it. What Greg Diggle had given her was not redemption -it was torture. Immitigable torture. To bring Ron back would be to tear apart the very foundation she'd built her life on after his death. No, this wasn't Greg Diggle attempting to free himself of guilt. If anything, this was his way of planting a seed of doubt into her head, to tempt her into destroying her relationship with Draco. Even now, Greg Diggle was a diabolical cunt.
She rolled over to her other side, expecting to find Draco sleeping soundly next to her, but instead met the cold, empty space of blankets and loneliness. Last night, making love to Draco felt like some otherworldly dream. It didn't feel real -like she had watched it through someone else's eyes as it happened. Their love making didn't used to be so… solemn. So detached. An entire weekend had shifted their entire dynamic.
And Merlin, was it ever depressing.
"Draco?" she whispered, sitting upright and glancing around the room. He was nowhere to be seen. Hermione pried herself out of bed, first one foot, then the other, and padded her way to the closet to dress. Her hands shook as she filtered through the variety of outfits Draco had gifted her with over the years. She hardly saw any of her old clothing here, there were so many new. Each one had been met with a statement from Hermione how she didn't need new clothes, all while Draco scoffed and told her to suck it up and wear the damned thing. She wished she hadn't been so unthankful. Each outfit was so very pretty.
She settled on a blue button up blouse and black slacks, slipping a pair of two inch heels on afterwards. This morning, she would walk Dean through his first day as the new Auror Trainer before he set off to the Ministry. It felt wonderful to have some purpose, considering everything else was up in the air. Clearing her throat, she went to the bathroom next, attempted to fix her hair, and then slipped her engagement ring back on her finger. Hermione couldn't sleep with jewelry on.
She took the stairs carefully on her descent to the kitchens, and found Astoria and Scorpius (still no Draco) seated at the kitchen counter, a plate full of pancakes each.
"Hello," Astoria said quietly, nodding in Hermione's direction. Both witches were reserved, to which Scorpius took notice of immediately.
"Mummy okay?" Scorpius tugged on Astoria's sleeve. "Okay, Mummy?"
"I'm alright," she told the child at once, eyes turning back to him, "Mummy's just lost in thoughts again."
Scorpius, bless his soul, turned his grey eyes on Hermione next. "You okay, Mummy?"
"Of course I am," Hermione grinned, crossing the room and bundling Scorpius up in a hug. "How are you doing? You had quite a… a sleep."
"I good!" Scorpius chirped. "Mummy gonna take me to Hum-in-y-dooks!"
"Honeydukes? Again?"
Astoria shrugged. "Auror Jameson's idea. Thought Scorpius could use the fresh air."
"Are you sure that's wise?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brow. "To be going out in the open? So soon after…?"
"I think," Astoria sighed, setting her fork down on her plate, "At this rate, I'm in no less danger here than I am out there. I can't continue to live my life shut away simply because Draco always finds a way to throw himself into his work."
"You're not blaming Draco for this?" Hermione suggested.
"Aren't I?" The witch narrowed her eyes. "I never asked to be involved with Aurors. Never. I married him thinking that we would live a safe, peaceful life. All of this excitement… I never wanted it."
Hermione nodded, understanding. "I've been in your shoes. When Ron said he wanted to stay on as an Auror, despite his promise to only stay in for two years… it broke my heart in two." Her voice grew quieter. "If he had gotten out when he promised, he never would have…" She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking about this. I've just been having these dreams lately…"
"Dreams?" Astoria raised an eyebrow.
"I assure you, that's all they are." Hermione sighed. "It's just… hard. Sometimes. The closer it gets to the anniversary of his death, the more frequently they come. It's like my body keeps wanting me to relive each and every moment I had with him, even though it knows it's painful. Almost like, my subconscious is afraid if I don't force myself to remember, I might someday forget."
Astoria smiled softly, placing a hand on Hermione's. "There's nothing wrong with remembering the good times, Miss Granger. Excuse me… Almost Missus Malfoy."
Hermione's lips turned up as she blushed. "Do you miss it? Being Missus Malfoy?"
Astoria looked down at Scorpius, who completely tuned the two women out, relishing in drenching his pancakes with syrup. "The only things I miss are what could have been. -But, I am glad he has you. That they both do." She turned her eyes down to the floor, pensive. "I feel I should share something with you… Something that I've asked Draco to keep secret." She rose from her chair and motioned Hermione to follow her to the stove, across the room.
Hermione did, and in a hushed whisper, she asked, "Is everything alright, Astoria?"
Astoria's eyes fell on Scorpius, and her voice shook as she whispered back, "My family… they haven't always been as open minded as me. One of my ancestors was a nasty witch. Nasty enough to bind our family in a blood curse. It's filtered out through the generations, however…" She pursed her lips. "I've begun to show signs…" She rolled up her sleeve, where the veins in her wrist were quite visible, dark purple in shade. "It works slowly."
"Astoria…" Hermione gasped, taking the witch's hand and running her fingers down her wrist. "Oh my… I… I'm so sorry… what I can-"
"-There's nothing to be done. It's a curse. Irreversible. Draco knew, before he married me, the risks that the curse could be passed down. I didn't care. I feared that this might one day happen, and that he might be left all alone, and I… I couldn't leave him that way." Astoria pulled her arm out of Hermione's hand and rolled the sleeve back down. "Scorpius means the world to me. I'm so very glad he has you, should I one day…"
"Don't speak that way."
"Shouldn't I?" Astoria wiped a stray tear from her eye. "I have years." She nodded, repeating, "I have years…" Her voice trailed off. "Please, Hermione. Take care of them. Both of them."
"Of course." Hermione nodded, taking Astoria's hand and squeezing it. "But alongside you. You take care of them, too. We're all family here. And I'll be damned if you're giving up now."
Astoria's eyes still resting on Scorpius, she turned her lips up in a thankful smile. "Draco's in the gardens. I saw him through the window this morning." She looked back to Hermione. "What happened last night?"
"One of our newest Aurors, Lindy Bolt… she was murdered. In front of Draco."
"What? That's… that's awful! Oh, no wonder he was such an ass…"
"I have to talk to him. He's shut me out, but I won't let him."
"No. You most certainly won't." Astoria gave an encouraging nod. "Go on, then. Off you pop."
Both witches hugged each other, and Hermione gave Scorpius one more hug and a giant kiss on the cheek (to which the toddler detested) and made her way out the front doors heading towards the gardens. Dean would have to wait, momentarily.
She found him seated at the edge of one of the fountains scattered about the obnoxiously large acreage, hands folded in his lap and head hung low. He didn't even raise his head when Hermione approached and sat down beside him.
"You're up early," she said, nudging him in the arm with her elbow. Draco remained stoic. "I think we need to talk."
"Yeah…" he whispered. "We do." His face tilted up, and his silver flecked eyes met the brown of her irises, rendering her still. "Hermione, I know what you're going to ask me to do. And I can't." He swallowed, hard, and tore his eyes down to the ground again. "I can't relive it."
"I'm not asking you to," she said, feeling such sympathy for Draco that she placed an unwelcome hand on his shoulder, to which he scoffed at. "I have a few things to talk to you about. All you have to do is listen."
"Alright."
"I visited Diggle."
Draco's body tensed beneath her hand, but he did not speak. He simply listened, as requested.
"Harry and I did," she said, hoping the mentioning of Harry would lessen his agitation, "And Diggle told us about the white wolf."
"Yeah. I know all about him." Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. "The white wolf is my grandfather."
"You know?" How? Had Harry briefed him?
"It's a long story."
"I have all the time in the world." She tried to remain patient, but anxiousness crept through her bones. So many questions dangled at the tip of her tongue, begging to be released. "Tell me."
"I… I can't." He shrugged her hand off and stood. "Hermione, I just can't let you in on this one."
"What?" She didn't understand. Her patience grew thin. "Draco, we're partners. We've always been partners. You've never kept anything from me before."
"Yeah? And how about what you've kept from me?" he snapped suddenly, and Hermione stared at him in disbelief.
"Why are you acting this way?" Draco dug through the pocket of his vest and removed a folded piece of parchment. It took Hermione only a moment to recognize it. "Did… were you going through my things?"
Draco thrust Diggle's letter out between them. "Why did you hide this from me?"
"I wasn't hiding it," she shook her head. "I wasn't. Really. You were so worn last night, and I didn't want to rattle you-"
His eyes were like two boulders boring down on her. "-Are you suggesting I have something to be rattled over, Hermione?" He took a step closer, the letter still out for her to take. But it was a taunt. If she took it, the situation would only grow worse. "You should have told me. The moment I walked out of that door. You should have told me."
"I know…" She nodded, her voice quiet. "And I'm sorry I didn't. I only wanted to spare you-"
"-Spare me? How about you spare me the pity party, Mione." He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not some pygmy puff you picked up in a local pet store. I'm your fiancé. Something like this…" He glanced down at the parchment in his hand. "The Resurrection Stone. -Does Potter know it still exists?"
"Greg told him it was destroyed."
"But you know it isn't." Draco challenged. "Did you share that bit?"
"I've barely begun to wrap my head around the possibility!" Hermione snapped. "Forgive me if I don't go running to Harry until I know all of the facts!"
"Facts! The fact is, Hermione, you found a way to bring Weasley back, and you didn't tell me."
"That's not fair! I don't even have the Resurrection Stone!"
"But you'd use it, wouldn't you!?"
"I don't know!" The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could retract them. Her hand flew up to her mouth as it snapped shut. They both stared, wide eyed, at each other for what seemed like eternities. Finally, she removed her hand and whispered, "I didn't mean-"
"-No. Don't." Draco crossed the distance between them and shoved the paper into her hand. "Just don't." His eyes traveled over her shoulder, past her. "We'll talk about this later. Alright?"
Hermione's voice shook as she nodded and said, "Alright."
To her surprise, Draco leaned down and kissed her cheek. Feather-light, but still full of love. As he slowly retracted his face from hers, he stared evenly down into her eyes and whispered, "I love you."
"I… I love you, too."
"I need to speak to my father. We can talk about this tonight." And with that, he stepped back, giving him enough space to walk around her. Hermione spun on her heels, following his direction as Draco pushed past an overly-tired looking Dean Thomas, who stared between Draco and Hermione as if he'd caught two cats in an alley.
"Hey, mate," he muttered, to which Draco nodded his head and stormed around a hedge, out of sight. Dean's eyes focused on Hermione, and he tried his best to grin, though it looked rather forced. "Hey, Hermione."
"Hi, Dean," she attempted a smile herself, finding it tasted bitter.
"Er…" Dean looked back at the hedge, then forward, then shook his head. "I'm not even going to attempt it… -Right. You ready to walk me through the first day's lesson?"
Hermione's face softened into a real smile this time, and she nodded. Thank the lord almighty, Dean didn't want to get involved. "Yes. Let's."
Guilt. So much guilt weighed heavily on Draco's heart as he tore off towards the Manor once more, itching for an excuse to turn back around. But he hadn't left anything behind, and, besides, he needed to keep his distance from Hermione as best he could for this to work. Still, he wanted nothing more than to hightail it back to the Gardens, tell Dean to bugger off, and spill of his secrets to Hermione before making love to her in the fountain. Fantasies like that, however, would have to stay right there in his head. Real life was much more complicated.
He found his father in the library and wasn't at all surprised to find him nose-deep in a thick book. Draco inherited his father's love of literature, along with his mother's sense of fashion. The best of both worlds. And speaking of his mother, it was to his relief that he did not find her here, because he wasn't entirely sure he could do what needed to be done in her presence.
Shutting the door audibly behind him startled his father, who glanced up from his reading at once. "Draco." He raised an eyebrow, slowly, and placed the book in his lap. "I was told to stay as far away from you as humanly possible. So, forgive me if I ask why you've come seeking me out?"
Draco scoffed, placing his hands into his pockets. "I think we both know why I'm here."
"I'm sure one of us does. But, alas, it is not me." Lucius smirked. "Go on, boy. Have at me. I can see it in your eyes, you're chomping at the bit."
Draco squared his jaw, forcing himself to draw the moment out. Ever since leaving the Forbidden Forest, Draco had three goals in mind, one of them being to tell off his son-of-a-bitch father. No, not a son-of-a-bitch. Grandmother was far too nice to be associated with the likeness of Lucius Malfoy.
"I know." He said, finally. Lucius stared inquisitively back at him, so Draco continued. "About the white wolf. I know you know who it is."
Lucius's face still feigned confusion, but the tells were there. The slight twitch in the left corner of his mouth. The narrowing of his eyes. The tighter grip on his book. "I haven't the foggiest clue what you mean, Draco."
"Lying. Why am I not surprised?" Draco quipped as he began to pace back and forth in front of the door. He wanted to remain close to it, should he hear anyone approach. "You lied to me most of my entire life. I don't know why I expected you to do differently now."
"I never lied to you-"
"-Mudbloods are vermin? That wasn't a lie?" Draco snorted a bitter laugh. "I've got two years worth of shags from my fiancé that proves you wrong." He relished in the disgust on his father's face. "Does that make you uncomfortable, Father? That I'm going to marry a muggleborn?"
"The idea that you would bed that woman…" Lucius scoffed under his breath. "It's positively revolting."
"No it isn't -but you want to know what is? Murder. Murdering innocent people because of Goddamn blood status!" Draco stopped his pacing. "You're the disgusting one in this family. Not Hermione."
Lucius's face grew cold. "To what do you presume to know about my life, Draco? Did you live it?"
"I know enough."
"Do you? I have never been a fan of repeating myself, but I fear it needs to be said once more, so: I have never lied to you."
Draco felt the anger like a lightning bolt in his chest, sharpening his resolve. "Let's talk about the white wolf. About Abraxas Malfoy."
Time crawled to a halt as both men played their cards, each with a distinctive poker face. Draco tucked his hands behind his back, firming his posture, while Lucius remained as still as a lamppost. Draco wanted desperately to say something, but to do so would be to give himself away, and he wasn't ready to give up the ghost just yet. Not with the truth dangling out there on a thread, begging to be grabbed.
Finally, Lucius Malfoy sighed. "He found you."
"I found him."
Lucius's eyebrows rose, impressed. "And yet you still stand before me, untouched. How is that?"
"Unlike you, Grandfather appreciates a want for peace. The fact I never wanted the cursed mark on my arm might have a hand in why I have my powers, and you do not."
"And does the Ministry know of your Grandfather's leniency?"
"The Ministry has no say in matters of my family." Draco stared complacently. "And you would be wise to keep this between us."
Lucius turned his nose up at the thought. "I might be dying, but I am no fool. -So what have you come here to do today? Gloat? To mock me for my transgressions? Or have you come to finish the job and put me down like a mutt?"
"Oh no. I'm going to enjoy watching you die. Slowly. In pain." Draco approached the armchair across from Lucius and took a seat. "You deserve it, you senile old man."
"I'm hardly old. Or senile. And you'd best watch your tongue, boy. I am still your father."
"What kind of a father puts his son through the kind of torture you put me through year after year? Tell me? Do you think filling me up with xenophobic notions did my childhood any good? Did you think it would make me a better man?"
"I know it did."
"Ha." Draco rolled his eyes. "I was an arrogant little shit in looks for a pissing contest anywhere I went. And then you convinced me to get the Mark. A Mark that might as well signify me as a Nazi or Ku Klux Klan socialite." Draco reached for his left arm instinctively. "No, I'm so very glad Grandfather put you back in your place. You can die knowing you'll never touch magic again."
Lucius's face did not give an ounce of emotion, but his eyes said it all; Draco's words cut him deep.
"Gloating, then? Is that why you've come?"
"No." Draco leaned forward. "I came to give you a message. From Grandfather. He sends his regards, first and foremost. And he wishes me to tell you… your secret remains safe with him. And with me."
"Secret… what secret?"
"I'm sure it's hard to recall, seeing as you have so many." Draco reached into his pocket and removed a small, moving photograph of a young girl with raven black hair and sea-green eyes. "Did you, once, ever consider telling me? Or Mother? She deserves to know." He revels in the shock painted across Lucius's face as he stared down at the picture of Victoria Crabbe. "She's a lovely little thing. Spritely. Full of life. Despite our sociopathic father." And with that, he sat the picture down on Lucius's book, smirking as he turned and walked out of the room.
Yes, that is EXACTLY what I've just done. Now we know why Victoria Crabbe is being recruited as a Sacred 28 member, when Crabbes are not part of the Sacred 28. Because she's not a Crabbe. Well, only half. ;D
Yes, that was a Cursed Child reference above. Enjoy it.
~A.
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How To Train Your Auror 2: Family Ties