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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
- 17
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- 19
Well my goodness gracious let me tell you the news
My head's been wet with the midnight dew
I've been down on bended knee talkin' to the man from Galilee
He spoke to me in the voice so sweet
I thought I heard the shuffle of the angel's feet
He called my name and my heart stood still
When he said, "John go do My will!"
Go tell that long tongue liar
Go and tell that midnight rider
Tell the rambler, the gambler, the back biter
Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down
Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down
"God's Gonna Cut You Down" by Johnny Cash
"Start from the beginning," Harry offered, seated across the table from Greg Diggle. "What happened?"
"What happened?" Diggle snorted. "Seriously? You have to ask? The man's insane! He came in, wand blazing, and attacked me in my cell!"
"I heard he didn't take too kindly to a letter you wrote."
Diggle wore an expression that he would very much like to murder Harry James Potter in his seat. "That letter was for Hermione. Not for either of you. What it contains-"
"I know what it contains, Diggle. Did you think Hermione would shut us out?"
"It doesn't matter anyway," said Diggle, folding his arms. "He used an Unforgivable on me. That's a one way ticket into a cell next to mine. I know the laws. I know my rights as an inmate."
"Kingsley Shacklebolt wrote those rights only a few short years ago," said Harry, narrowing his eyes. He didn't like Diggle being correct. "You're lucky you're not surrounded by Dementors. What did you do? Did you attack first?"
"Attack first?" Diggle rolled his eyes. "Oh, I see. An Auror goes ballistic on an inmate, and still the Aurors stand by one another. He performed a Cruciatus Curse on me, Auror Potter. You know the laws." He scratched at his beard and shook his head. "He's mental, anyway. Would you believe he smirked at me as he was being taken away? He smirked. As if it meant nothing for him to be here."
A chill frosted down Harry's spine as he stood. "I see…" His jaw tightened. "Take Diggle back to his cell. I'll have a word with Malfoy next."
"That's it?" Diggle frowned. "I know my rights, Potter! I'll have the Auror Division on its head, mark my words!"
Draco Malfoy was alone. Not just physically, as he waited in his cell as the hours ticked by till morning's light, but alone in the sense that he had no one to turn to. Breaking Hermione's heart, his father's constant betrayal, turning his back on his mother, the mother of his child, and his son… It all left a detrimental hole in Draco's heart the size of a canyon, and he didn't know if he could climb back out to the top anytime soon. If ever. Purposefully landing himself a spot in Azkaban didn't help matters, but it was necessary. He couldn't do what he needed to do if Hermione, Dean, or Potter were constantly looking for him (which he knew they would do once he made the split with Hermione). He only hoped giving them this 'comfort' of knowing where he was would get them off of his back for what came next. If they thought him in a cell for the next two days, they would have no reason to get wound up in any more trouble. And if there was one thing Draco couldn't stomach, at this point, it was the thought of the people he loved being swept up in his inner-turmoil bullshit.
Especially when his grandfather now possessed both Pandora Stones.
"You will infiltrate the Ministry. As an Auror, it won't take much work. I want you to bring an accomplice of mine -you know it as a small, grey kitten…"
Draco blinked. "Kitten?" He thought about it. "Oh, sod off! That cat can't be an animagus! It's a kitten. Don't animagus forms take on the age of the wizard or witch? There's no way you've got a toddler running errands for you." He thought about it, and added, "And besides. That's just plain creepy. Hermione gave that cat as a present to Scorpius. Plain perverse, if you ask me…"
"I don't believe anyone did," smirked Abraxas, leaning against his cane. "And you're correct- most animagus forms do take the age of the host -however, if one is particularly good at certain attributes, one might be able to change physical attributes, as well."
Given some knowledge on the subject, it didn't take the younger Malfoy long to draw his own conclusion. "An animagus who is also a metamorphagus. That's what you're saying, isn't it?"
Abraxas's smirk widened. "Such an intelligent grandson I have. -As I was saying, I will need you, after you rid yourself of the muggleborn filth you insist on floundering around with," Draco narrowed his eyes at the comment, "Then I will present you your wand again, and you will escort my friend into the Ministry. You will need to make a distraction -one that will render you out of the case indefinitely. One that will land you in Azkaban."
"Azkaban?" Draco scoffed. "You want me to be put in Azkaban? Pah. Not on your life. Or mine. There's no way I'd agree to it."
"How about your friend's life? What is his name… Auror Thomas? Or perhaps Miss Granger? Mr. Potter? I have an entire list ready off the top of my head. Which life shall we put on the chopping block? Personally, I'm all for Miss Granger."
Draco's voice quieted as he begged, "No, please… I…" Anger boiled within his chest like a pot left on the burner much too long. That's what this night was -much too long, and much too hot under the collar. "You've no idea how long it's taken me to build the Malfoy name upright again. For Scorpius. If I get put in Azkaban, that'll ruin it. All of it."
"When I'm through, you'll be a hero," Abraxas said coldly, despite his words. "Tell me, Draco. These vermin… these Death Eaters… how does being one sit with you?"
Draco glanced down to his arm, contemplative. "It used to eat at me… for years, it corroded my heart. But…" He stared long and hard at his arm, thinking to Hermione's 'mudblood' carved arm. "I'm not my mark. I'm sure there are those, like me, who thought it necessary to join Voldemort in order to survive. I thought it was what I wanted, but…"
Abraxas pulled the bulb off of the top of his cane and revealed his Pandora Stone once again. "Bastian Cane told me you were once close to removing that cursed mark. What stopped you from finishing the job?"
"The price."
"Pardon?"
"The price," Draco said again. "It was too great. We were torturing criminals. -I was lying to my wife. All of it. It was too much."
"You would have never needed to suffer if Voldemort and his followers had been put in their place."
For the first time, Draco stared at his grandfather. Really stared at him. "I don't understand. I thought you hated muggles. Hated muggleborns. Why, then, would you side against Voldemort? Are you saying you wouldn't have taken the mark? That you're above all that?"
"I let no man tell me how to live in my own home," Abraxas said definitively. "Following an angry wizard's ambitions -that is beneath a Malfoy. We are not the servants of any man, no matter should they share the same cause or not. That Mark signifies the servant. Servant of greed. Servant of vanity. Servant of a losing side. I told your father just the same, when he decided to follow Riddle's cult. Do you not think if it could be done -ruling over the muggles -that we, Malfoys, wouldn't have done it already? There is a time for everything, my grandson. To associate with the muggles at all is the treason. They are not worth the time to rule. It would be as man ruling over apes. Let them have their wild jungle. Let them weed themselves out. -But we most certainly do not mate with them." He made a sort of hiss under his breath that made Draco's skin crawl.
"Hermione's no ape."
"And you are no true Malfoy, with that attitude."
"I love her."
"Love." Abraxas scoffed. "What would you know of love, Draco? You're far too young to understand the parameters."
"I'm nearly thirty."
"And even now, you walk around like a boy chasing coattails. You are no more a man than your son." He shrugged, holding the stone out between them. "Trust in me, Draco. I do not wish to destroy this family -rather, I wish to see it rise again from the ashes. Like a phoenix. Strong. In flight. I wish for us to rise up the chain of power once again. How would you like to be Lead Auror? How would you like to bring our family the largest amount of honor?"
"Draco Malfoy," a guard's deep, monotone drawl commanded from the opposite side of the bars, snapping Draco out of his flashback. The magic-dampening clamps around his wrists were tight, making his hands mildly numb and forcing him to flex his fingers to continue circulation. He made to stand as the guard waved his wand and unlocked the cell door. "This way."
"Don't I get a letter?" Draco asked in a snarky tone as he approached and passed the guard. "I know my rights. I get a letter."
"Interrogation first. Letter after."
The guard pointed his wand tip in the curve of Draco's spine and pushed him forward, down the hallway. A few turns and twists later, Draco found himself in front of the same interrogation room he'd been in with Diggle so little time ago, though now he was the one who entered with cuffs. It was Potter to sit on the other side, arms folded, a look of disgruntled disgust written in his thick, black eyebrows. Draco shot him a hearty smirk as he slumped into his chair and rested his arms atop the table, palms out. He opened his mouth to make a smart comment, but Potter cut him off.
"What the Hell were you thinking, Malfoy?"
Smirk still set in his features, Draco leaned back in his chair, shrugged, and said, "Would now be a good time to ask you to be my best man?" There was a beat. "You know. Because I think Dean would muck up the bachelor party, and I really want it to be spectacular. Do you think you could get one of those witches to jump out of a cake? Or better yet, Hermione?"
"Are you done?"
"Not quite." He scratched the tip of his nose. "I don't want you to think I'm asking because I like you. Far from it. But I know it'd mean a great deal to our favorite witch, and-"
"Malfoy? Shut it." Harry sighed, rubbing his temples. "The truth. What were you thinking? Attacking Greg Diggle in his cell? How'd you think that was going to pan out? With a thank you party?"
"I'd hoped."
"Be serious for five bloody seconds!"
Draco yawned. "No."
"Malfoy!" The Auror threw his hands down onto the table. "I'm in a position to hear your side of this. Give me something. Anything that could absolve you."
"You want my side? I used the Azkaban portkey to get here, found Diggle's cell, entered, and proceeded to attack him using an Unforgivable." Merlin, it sounded so bad when he put it like that. Stick with the plan, he told himself.
"Why?"
Draco's voice grew grave. "Why do you think?" He began to pick at the skin of his perfectly manicured cuticles, eyes leaving Potter's. "I'm sure by now you've heard of Diggle's wonderful letter." He lowered the volume of his voice to a near whisper. "It's all he ever does, isn't it? Muck up my life. Not a week into our engagement, and there's already a way to bring Weasley back from the dead. And she's considering it, you know?"
Potter stared, nodding, his hands resting on the edge of the table. "She and I talked about it early this morning."
"Did you?"
"She says you tried to call it quits. Told her to 'keep the ring.' Sound familiar?"
Draco's cuticle of his left thumb was ruined, and he went on to the index finger next. "Vaguely."
"So that's the reason?" asked Harry. "The only reason you had to attack Diggle? To risk your badge, your career, your family's reputation?"
Draco's eyes darted up, and he knew he needed to play it big. Potter was being too nice. At this rate, he'd absolve him of all crime. "And what would you know of family, Potter? It can't be because you had any. Everyone knows you aren't exactly the poster child for normal childhood."
Potter's emerald eyes shimmered cold, and his caring face withdrew immediately, replaced entirely by his Auror one. "Alright, Malfoy. Have it your way. A few days in Azkaban should clear your head. But just know I'm the only way you're getting out of this one with your head off the chopping block. The Wizengamot are going to have a field day with this one. -As of right now, you are currently suspended from active Auror duty pending this investigation. And in turn, you are to be taken off any cases you are currently working on. Including this white wolf." He made to stand. "I'll try to keep this out of the papers -not for your sake. But for your family's. Especially Scorpius. Merlin, if he could see his father now."
Draco jumped out of his chair, making one of the guards twitchy and draw his wand. Potter put his hand up in the air, and the guard conceded, wand still drawn but not in duel stance. Harry walked around the table, boots clacking on the floor as he strode right up to Draco's face and leaned in.
"Don't think for a moment I believe you," he whispered.
Draco smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it, Potter. Why don't you just be honest? You never really trusted me to begin with."
Potter's already hurt expression tensed into a look of pure disgust. "Quit being petty."
"Petty?" he snorted. "Get out of my sight. I'd rather rot in Azkaban than listen to Golden Boy talk of morality, trying to sort me out like one of Hermione's books. You can't read me, Potter. I'm a bit out of your reading level."
Harry laughed dryly. "You know, Malfoy, all you've ever been is talk. I used to think you were someone formidable. Now…" he shook his head. "Now, I just feel sorry for you."
"Sorry for me?"
"You want to be a good man? For Hermione? For Scorpius? How about quit letting your anger flow free and get a grip on reality. -Attacking Diggle? That's petty Malfoy bullshit. Not the Draco I know now. That's the old you."
"You're wrong. It's just me. There is no 'old' or 'new.'"
Potter laughed under his breath. "I'll see you soon, yeah? In the meantime, pull the broom out of your arse and come up with a better excuse to the Wizengamot. I'll do my best, but only if you help yourself." He stepped away and strode to the door, glancing about. "Unless you'd like to stay here for the rest of your life?" He shook his head. "You're better than this, Draco. I know you are. I haven't given up, yet. And neither has Hermione."
The two men exchanged long, heated stares.
"Is she alright?"
"As best as one can be. I don't think she knows about this, yet. I'll inform her once I'm done here. -Is there a message you'd like me to pass on?"
Draco glanced down to the ground. "I… no. Only that I love her."
"Is this what you constitute as love?"
"Fuck off."
"Suit yourself."
The door closed promptly behind, leaving Draco alone with his guard detail. Without much to say, he let himself be escorted back to his cell and waited until the guard walked briefly down to his post before Draco glanced about, slunk over to the pillow on his cot, and turned it over.
Underneath sat a key, his wand, and a small, folded stock card that read, 'You have twenty-four hours. After that, you're on your own. Good luck.'
Draco smirked, plucking the key up first. He quickly made use of it and released the manacles around his wrist and carefully let them fall onto his pillow to muffle the sound. Next, he picked up his wand and incinerated the note. No use in leaving evidence behind. And finally, he set up a glamour to appear as if someone slept in his bed. The covers drew up, and he transfigured his pillow into a 'head'. Quietly, he made his way out of the cell and set up a confundus charm at the cell door so that anyone who touched the bars would believe the glamour and walk away. It would last about a day -as long as the time allotted for him to get to work. Another silencing spell to his shoes later, he made his way down the hall and came face to face with a guard.
"Imperio!"
The guard stared complacently at him.
"You just checked on me. I was sleeping in my cell."
"Sleeping in your cell, right."
"You didn't see me here."
"Never saw you."
"I won't want anything for dinner. Neither will Gregory Diggle."
"Nothing for dinner. Yes."
Draco carefully walked his way around the guard, took his wand, and snapped it in half. He could almost hear the wand scream in response, and his own magic countered in electric jolts up his arms. Draco felt terrible, but he didn't have a choice. He needed to get to where he was going, and he needed to do it quickly. He came across two more guards, each with their back turned, and did the same thing, as well as sleeping jinxes on the inmates until he finally was down the correct corridor.
Once again, he found Gregory Diggle curled up in his cell, atop his cot, eyes staring up at the ceiling. When he caught sight of Draco, he shot up straight, raised a curious eyebrow, and said, "Déjà vu." He looked to both sides of his small cell, looked at Draco, and stood. "I suppose this calls for a round two?"
"Shut it. We haven't much time." Draco waved his wand and unlocked the door. "Come on, Diggle. You're coming with me."
"Coming? Coming where? I'm not going anywhere with you. You Crucio'd me, you sod. Think I'd forget something like that? How are you even out right now? Unless…" Diggle read Draco's weary expression. "Ahhh…. So, Dark-Draco comes out to play once in awhile, does he?"
"Dark-Draco? What the shit is that? That's a terrible nickname." Draco pointed his wand and pointed for Diggle to move. Greg stepped forward and out of the cell, arms up, though they were still manacled.
"I heard you used to call me 'Devious-Diggle.' Thought 'Dark-Draco' might be fitting for you."
"I thought I told you to shut it." Draco narrowed his eyes. "Hands behind your head, where I can see them."
Diggle did as he was told, leading the way as Draco aimed a wand in his back and told him which corridors to turn. As they passed the other cell mates, still nodding away in sleep, Diggle turned his head backwards, wearing an impressed expression. "The Bastian Cane in me wants to be so proud of you right now."
"Seriously, Diggle, if you don't shut it, I will perform another Cruciatus Curse, free of charge."
Diggle shrugged. "Been through worst, honestly. -Like hearing Hermione and you are to be wed? What sort of Twilight Zone am I living in?"
"Yeah… you know no one gets your references."
"Twilight Zone? Really? I figured Hermione would have cultured you."
They turned the corner, and Diggle found himself thrown up against the wall, Draco's wand jabbing into his Adam's apple. "Say her name again," Draco goaded. "Go on. I dare you. Say it." He twisted the wand into Diggle's skin as it lit to life in searing heat, burning into his throat like a cigarette burn. "I'm sick of putting up with your shite, Diggle. I really am. So let me put this in words you'll understand. I'm in charge this time. If I say jump, you beg me to let you. If I say get the taste of Hermione's name off your tongue, you go wash your mouth out with bleach. Are we clear?"
Diggle stared long and hard into Draco's eyes, raising one eyebrow and then the other. "Crystal."
"Crystal, what?"
"Oh, you honestly don't expect me to say it." The wand twisted harder. "Ah! Alright! Sir! It's crystal, Sir! Goddamn it, Malfoy, lay off the theatrics!"
Draco smirked, removing his wand. "Good boy. On we get. It's not far off, now."
"Where are we going?"
"Seeing as how we can't Apparate out of here, we're going to use a portkey."
"A portkey." Diggle stared blankly. "You're kidding. That's your big idea? A portkey? And what are you going to do when we get there? The only way to Azkaban through a portkey is through the Ministry. So, are you going to kill me in front of the Ministry or something?"
Draco blinked. "Kill you?" He chuckled. "Oh, Diggle, Diggle, Diggle. I'm not going to kill you." He rolled his eyes. "If I were going to kill you, I would have. Years ago." He reached down and grabbed around one of Diggle's magic-dampening cuffs, pulling it up between them. "No, you're too valuable for that."
"Valuable?" Diggle raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you've ever said that about me before." He grinned. "I like Dark-Draco."
"I told you, quit calling me that." Draco reached in and fished out his key, holding it between the two of them. Diggle eyed the key as if he were debating on wrestling the blond for it, but then stopped himself last moment, keen on listening instead. "The truth of it is, Diggle -my grandfather fancies a little chat with you." Draco watched as all the blood drained from Greg's face, and it put a smirk across his own. "Yeah, got your attention now, haven't I? But see -before I hand you off, there's something else I'm going to need from you. And, if you're good, I might consider giving you some of your magic back." He waved the key.
Greg licked his overly-dry lips, hand moving for the key until Draco tugged it back. Then he narrowed his eyes and laughed. "You drive a hard bargain, Draco Malfoy. I have to say -breaking out of Azkaban. Using my magic as incentive to do whatever it is you bade me to do. It's all very… Bastian Cane. I'm so proud."
Draco's stomach turned in knots, but he ignored it. "So? Do we have a deal? Yes or no?"
Diggle rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. Anything to get me out of this dump." He held out his shackled hands. "I am but your humble servant."
Raising an eyebrow, Draco pushed the key into Diggle's cuffs and turned the lock. "Now I know you're full of shite. But, seeing as how I'm not going to be able to do this alone…" The cuffs fell from Diggle's wrists and to the floor. Greg smiled, flexing his fingers and rubbing his worn, bloody wrists.
"Ah…" He inhaled. "I can taste the magic."
"Great." Draco grabbed him up by the collar and pushed him forward. "No funny business, Diggle. Or they come right back on."
Diggle shook his head. "In my weakened state, I wouldn't dare." He chuckled. "Don't you worry yourself, Draco. You and I will have our time. Just you wait till I'm back to normal."
Draco smirked. "Looking forward to it."
"So… I assume your attack to me earlier last evening was all a ruse to get yourself locked in here…"
"Yes."
"Did you have to Crucio me?"
"Hmm? Oh. No. That was a personal choice."
They walked on, careful to keep an eye out for any more guards on their path. As they approached the portkey room, Diggle turned on his heels, allowing Draco to poke him in the chest with the tip of his wand. "What is it then?"
"What is what?"
"The plan." Diggle looked pleased. "If I'm going to allow you to coerce me out of my life sentence, it has to be a good plan. Or I might as well turn you in as soon as we step foot in the Ministry."
"I don't think you'll want to do that."
"Why not?"
"Because if you do, you'll never get your hands on the Gray Magic again."
Draco watched as Diggle's green eyes lit to life, and his fingers danced along the edge of his ragged and torn robes. "Gray Magic, you say? Oh, yes. Dark-Draco just gets more and more interesting."
"I told you- quit calling me that."
"So where is it? The Gray?" He sounded like a dope-fiend stringing for another fix.
Draco grinned ear to ear. "The one place no one could access without you. And, considering you were subject to a life sentence, it seemed appropriate."
Diggle was a smart man. He put the pieces together like a child's jigsaw in moments. "My vault?"
"What is it you like to say, Diggs? And Bingo was his name-o?"
Alright, guys! I hope you liked this chapter! Feel free to tell me what you thought.
~A.
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How To Train Your Auror 2: Family Ties