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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
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I really am excited to kick this off, and this chapter is a roller coaster of emotions. Thank you for coming with me on this journey once more.
Special shout out to WayMay for going over my mistakes in this chapter and fixing them in the best way possible. I can't wait for us to share our fanfiction!
A.

And if I couldn't guard our secrets
Am I not, another troubled soul to sway
And if we ask for life, can we commit?
We're the ones standing tall
Yet we look so terrified
The strong are always in want
Run another mile
Regrets and treason
One like the other
And if I say this is not another fault of mine
And set sail to find another
"Another Mile" by Faux Tales
It wasn't supposed to be this way. Standing above the hospital bed, watching Lucius Malfoy take breath after careful breath in his sleep, Draco had never felt more haunted. The man before him played two distinct roles in his childhood. On the one hand, this was his father, his flesh and blood. This was the man that taught him how to mount his first broomstick and bought him his very first potions set. In the other hand, there was a cold, calculating, malicious man who harbored a thick hatred for everything that Draco had come to love. He was the thread that had unraveled Draco's world when he should have there to stitch it up. He was supposed to love. Not be a murderous hazard to his son's psyche.
It had been years. So many years since Draco had seen his father face-to-face. The Floo network had acted as a successful barrier between the two for so long; it felt odd to see him without the flicker of green flames dancing around his face. Lucius had aged since their last encounter -crow's feet and heavy lines around his mouth blared out like sirens as Draco observed his father. Would he himself age this way? Would karma find penance in bringing out the angry, volatile man Draco had been before he had met Hermione Granger in the lines in his face the way it had Lucius?
In his chest, emotions stirred like a cauldron of ingredients being ladled. None of them were kind. He knew he should feel something more for the man who had raised him, but really he just felt empty inside as his mother put a hand on his shoulder and hugged him. "It's so good to see you, Draco." Metaphoric ice froze his heart shut like a freezer burn. All he could do was wrap his arm around his mother's shoulder and allow her to lean her head on his shoulder.
"What happened?" he asked her, hearing the hitch in his throat. He suddenly wished Hermione had been admitted into the room with him, but as per his parents' request, no one set foot inside unless they were staff or Draco. Well, Potter could enter as well, but that was out of their control. Still, he thought maybe if he consoled his mother a bit, she might allow for at least one more person (Hermione). He squeezed Narcissa closer to him and kissed her cheek.
"I shouldn't say," his mother whispered to him, smiling at his affection. "Your father made it very clear he wanted to speak to you and you alone. The sleeping potion should wear off soon. You can ask him then."
"You two are being stubborn. You should talk to Potter."
Narcissa raised a manicured eyebrow at him and lifted her head off of his shoulder. "So it's true. You really have fallen into step with the Ministry."
"If you're referring to my Auror position, yes. I'm an Auror."
Narcissa blinked once, and then changed the subject. "How is Scorpius? I wish you'd let us see him, darling…"
"He's fine," Draco said quickly, dragging his gaze to the floor. Astoria and Narcissa had never gotten along due to their separate points of views on muggleborn culture, and it had certainly helped divide the rift in Draco's connection with his family. One of the reasons why he had been so drawn to his ex-wife in the first place was her acceptance of everything that his parents had detested. And really, if it weren't for Astoria changing his views on the world, he'd never have opened his mind up to the possibility of Hermione Granger. "He's with Tori this evening."
"Maybe you could bring him over sometime. Or we could come visit-"
"Mother. Let's not do this." Draco gripped the rail on the side of Lucius's bed and gritted his teeth. "Let's not pretend that we're anything more than strangers anymore."
His mother scowled and crossed her delicate arms. "Draco Malfoy. How dare you?"
"How dare I?" He turned his head towards her. "How dare you? Do you know what it was like when you left? All of the press at our doors at all hours of the night, and you two were off blowing all of your money with lavish summer homes and extravagant luxuries all while ignoring the chaos you left in your wake." He released the railing and turned to her. "We used to be a family. But after the way you two ran off like dogs tucking your tails between your legs… why would I ever want my son to be a part of something so broken as what we are?" He cleared his throat and tugged at the collar of his shirt. It was a bit stuffy in here for his liking, or maybe it was the nervous tension; he wasn't entirely sure. "You wanted me here, you have me here. But let's make one thing very clear, Mother. I'm here to represent the Auror Division of the Ministry of Magic. Any ties that I have with you as family were severed the moment you allowed this to happen." He undid the button of his dress shirt and jerked it up over his forearm to reveal his Dark Mark. Narcissa's expression was cold, and above all else hurt. She placed her chin up in the air and pursed her lips.
"I see…"
"You may call on me when he wakes up. Until then, I'm going to find myself a bar with my muggleborn girlfriend and get tossed."
He left the room quickly, nearly running smack dab into Hermione as he shut the door. She was still dressed in her evening dress, though she was wearing Draco's blazer to keep her warm from the frigid temperatures of the St. Mungo's hallway. She stared up at him, concern painted across her pretty face. He simply slipped his hands on the sides of her face and forced his lips down on hers in a desperate kiss. She let him, and he relaxed almost at once. There was something unburdening in kissing her, and he hoped that it would be this way for the rest of their lives. If he could ever get around to asking her about the rest of their lives.
"How did it go?" Hermione asked as she pulled away from the kiss, leaving Draco in pieces. No. He didn't need them to stop now. He was desperate for any skin to skin contact. He tried to go in for another kiss, but she put her hand up to his lips to stop him. "Draco?"
"Can we… just get out of here for a while? He's sleeping and I…"
"Of course." She smiled up at him, though there was something written there in that smile; something that said she desperately wanted to talk about something. He wasn't a mind reader, and for a moment he panicked, thinking he had left the ring in the blazer before giving it to her. But then he remembered he had stowed the box away in his pant pocket and relaxed once again. "Where would you like to go?" she asked.
"There's a pub just down the road," offered Potter from the side, sitting in a public waiting chair just outside Lucius's door. "I can call Hermione when he wakes."
"That would be kind, Harry. Thanks." Hermione wove her arm around Draco's and patted him. "Shall we?"
Hermione watched Draco take down his third shot of fire barrel whiskey, sipping on her own butterbeer (the first and only, because she didn't plan on being three sheets to the wind like Draco). With his unbuttoned collar, disheveled hair, and rolled up sleeves, he looked more like some male model with the flu than a man trying desperately to drown his screaming past into muffled whispers.
"Maybe we should order some crisps?" she offered, trying to wave down a server. He put his hand up and told her not to bother. Sighing with frustration, Hermione sat her head in her hand and mumbled, "You shouldn't get tossed before going back. You're representing the Ministry, or have you forgotten?"
"Hermione." Draco stared hard into her eyes, his own half-lidded with alcohol's chokehold. "I love you. You know that. So when I say this, I mean it in the least offensive way possible. -Get off my arse and quit lecturing me."
Hermione wasn't entirely sure how she was supposed to take that in any way but offensive; however, out of respect, she changed the subject. "Did you write Astoria and let her know where we were?"
Draco snorted a laugh and wrapped his long fingers around the mug of her butterbeer before sliding it across to his side of the table and taking a long swig. When he finished downing about half, he wiped the froth from his lips with the back of his sleeve and shook his head. "She plans to have Scorpius the entire weekend. So unless I plan on picking him up early or I've had my foot spelled off, I don't plan on bringing her into this."
"Well, despite the fact of your divorce, she still is Scorpius's mother, and therefore a rather important part of this family." Hermione stomped her foot under the table and scowled. "Honestly, what's gotten into you? This isn't you."
"Isn't it?" Draco quirked a snarky eyebrow and stuck out his tongue. "Look, just give me the benefit of the doubt, alright? Not a single bit of tonight turned out the way I had planned, and I'd rather just drown my sorrows for an hour. You can even feed me a sobering potion when all of this is done." His offer did ease her heart, and she nodded meekly. "Thank you."
"You should talk to me," she said, reaching over the table to take back her butterbeer. Draco clung to it, and she gave up. "Don't shut me out."
"If I wanted to shut you out, I wouldn't have brought you with me."
"I don't think you had a choice in that, either way."
He chuckled. "No, I suppose I didn't."
Hearing him laugh alleviated some of the tension, and she relaxed her shoulders. After a time, she spoke again. "So… how was tonight supposed to go?"
Draco's gray eyes flitted up to hers, and there was a sort of pensive nature about them. He smirked, reached down for something in his pockets, and placed it atop the table, directly in the center. Hermione's heart skipped a beat when she recognized what it was. The velvet black box made the entire pub muffle under the weight of its promise. Hermione suddenly forgot how to breathe. It had something to do with the lungs, she was sure, but beyond that it was lost on her. She knew she had to learn soon, because if she didn't she would surely pass out, and then Draco would be scraping her off of the pub floor with a spatula and spending oodles of money to keep it out of the papers, and everyone knew how much Hermione hated being in the papers-
"Is… is that…?"
His eyes stared apprehensively at her, and he nodded slowly. Very, very slowly. Or maybe, that was just her perception. Time seemed to have slowed. When he spoke, time shattered to a normal tempo again. "Potter really is the biggest cock block I've ever met, you know."
Hermione, despite the tension gripping in her chest, burst into laughter at his quip. She set her face into her hands, thick, robust laughs slipping from her lips. Draco wanted to marry her. Why hadn't she seen the signs? She had suspected for weeks before Ron had proposed. Why hadn't she seen it this time? It all hit her at once, and when she raised her head again, there were tears streaming down her cheeks. "Is this why you've been acting like a complete cur?"
He scowled playfully. "I wouldn't quite say a cur. Secretive, manipulative, stealthy…"
"So like a Slytherin?"
He chuckled, strumming his fingers atop the box. "Like a Slytherin." He glanced around the pub, and then without warning stood up from his chair and shouted, "Can I have everyone's attention!?" The crowded pub's patrons turned their eyes away from their mugs as their talking died away. Draco climbed up on the seat of his chair and threw his hands around theatrically. "Tonight, I planned out a fantastic evening of taking the woman I love to an expensive restaurant and proposing to her, but instead I'm sitting here, slightly tossed, shouting to the sodding lot of you! But I suppose you'll do for an audience, so pay careful attention!" He hopped off the chair, snatched up the ring box, got down on one knee at Hermione's feet, and smirked up at her. "I'm only going to say this once, Hermione. So listen carefully."
Oh God, was this actually happening? She didn't know why it surprised her so much; she just hadn't thought Draco would ever want to go through a marriage again. Not when his first one had failed so miserably. Hermione nodded timidly, heat flooding her face. "Alright."
His tension-filled face relaxed ever so slightly. "I love you. Despite me being an arrogant ass with the cheek bones of a Playwitch Magazine male model, you somehow always manage to find the good in me. And you love Scorpius and…" He glanced around the room, and then back to her. "And I know that this isn't traditional, and it came at possibly one of the worst evenings possible, but I'm an impatient man, and I don't think I can wait to plan out another evening just to have it ruined by Four-Eyes. So," he straightened his shoulders, slipped the ring from its slit in the box, snatched up her left hand and placed the most expensive ring Hermione had ever laid eyes on to the tip of her ring finger. "Former Mrs. Weasley; would you do me the extraordinary honor of becoming the new, and final, Mrs. Malfoy?"
Hermione glanced down to her hand shaking in his, and then up to Draco, whose silver eyes glistened up at her with liquid courage and adoration. She never thought she'd make it to this point in her life again, which right at this moment felt rather silly because how did she not think they'd get here eventually? Her thoughts fell on to Ron and his shaky proposal in her car, dropping the ring between the console. Draco waited patiently for her answer, though the corners of his lips were tense. He really was an impatient man, wasn't he?
She blinked once, swallowed, and nodded hopelessly. "Oh, Draco." Her free hand shot up to her cheeks and swiped at a few traitorous tears. "Yes." She continued to nod like a bobble head doll. "Yes!"
"Yes?" He sounded surprised.
"Yes!"
"Holy shite." He slid the ring up her finger; it was a perfect fit. Hermione wondered if it was designed by magic to fit perfectly, or if Draco really had gone through all of that trouble to find her exact size. It didn't matter. She was ecstatically high as he stood and swept her up into a ferocious hug that nearly sucked all of the breath out of her. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the claps from the bar patrons around her, but she couldn't fully concentrate on them because her ears had lost their ability to hear, aside from the blood pumping through them.
She was aware Draco had said something, so she shook her head and focused. "What?"
"You wanna get out of here?"
She nodded, pulling him into sloppy kiss. The crowd of bar attendees roared with applause. It was a little silly, really, but she could care less. She was going to marry Draco Malfoy. They were going to be an official family. Draco and Scorpius and… and possibly a little one in their future… a child of her own by blood. It dazed her mind, and when she broke away from the kiss she scooped up her butterbeer and downed the half a glass in less than five seconds. Draco raised both eyebrows, impressed. He looked so human, half sloshed and still in his post-proposal high. It made her want to take him in an alley somewhere and tear off all of his clothes. She let him grab up her hand, pay the tab, and lead them out of the tiny pub. Hermione looked up at the name: the White Serpent. She'd have to remember that obscure name for recounting the events with Ginny and Luna later. Oh, Lord. They were going to have to plan a wedding! What colors would they go with? What would the flower arrangement be? She'd have Ginny as a bridesmaid for sure, and Luna, and she might be able to call on Parvati Patil…
"Slow down," Draco told her, grabbing her around the hips and warming her down to the bones as they stepped into the winter cold.
"I'm walking perfectly slow."
"I meant your mind. It's written all over your face- you're already planning out all of the details." He kissed her forehead and stared up at the pitch black sky. "Just enjoy it for tonight. You can stress tomorrow." He closed his eyes and breathed in as the wind picked up and slapped across their faces. Hermione smiled to herself. Somehow, he knew exactly what she had been thinking. They really were perfect for each other. She put her hands on top of his as they rested on her sides.
"I feel terrible now."
"For what?"
"For cutting our dinner short."
He shrugged, eyes still closed. "This was better."
Her smile widened. "Yes. It was."
The cellphone in Hermione's coat pocket hummed, pulsing against their hands. Draco's eyes popped back open, and they glanced down at the white-gold band on her finger. "We never just get a moment to enjoy, do we?"
"We will later," she promised, reaching into her pocket and flipping her phone open. "Hello? Harry?"
'Hermione,' Harry said on the other line, 'He's awake.'
"Alright. We'll be there soon." She hung up and nodded. "Ready to head back?"
"You didn't tell him." Draco almost looked disappointed.
"Well, of course I didn't. I want to see his face, don't I?"
Suddenly, Draco didn't look so disappointed anymore.
Seven words. That's all it took to shatter Draco's high and send him tumbling into the abyss of his scattered soul. Seven words to ruin what could have been one of the best nights of Draco Malfoy's life.
"It's good to see you again, Son."
He stared down at his father, hands shaking and resolve wavering. He wished Hermione was here by his side, but the orders had been clear from the hospital staff: no one was allowed in aside from Harry Potter and Draco, and he had left Potter out there with the rest of the world. His mouth suddenly became dry, and words… words were a fleeting idea that didn't hold much merit against the sheer terror he felt as he stepped across the room and took a seat at his father's side. The Healer's swivel stool made a perfect throne for the young Malfoy prince to sit atop of, burdened heavily by the knowledge of what kind of blood coursed through his body; xenophobic, racist blood that he himself had been tainted with from the day he was born. You could take a Malfoy out of the family, but you could never take the family out of a Malfoy. Not really, he realized as he reached out and gripped his father's cold hand. All of that hate, that despair -it sat on a shelf waiting while all of those worthless feelings like admiration and adoration came sweltering up from underneath Draco's heart. It hit him so hard that he felt as if he had taken a Quaffle to the gut.
Words found their way to his mouth, but he didn't recall thinking them. "Father. I've missed you." He could hear his mother sniff into a handkerchief. All of his was too much to handle. He lowered his head and sighed. "Who did this to you?"
Lucius Malfoy gave a cough and cleared his throat. "How have you been?"
"I asked you a question," Draco said, tightening his hand around his father's. "Tell me."
"That… is a complicated answer to give." Lucius nodded over to his wife, exchanging a wordless order. Narcissa nodded back to him before turning and leaving the room momentarily. When she returned, she brought the head Healer in charge of Lucius's care with her. He was a small man with a balding head and a thick mustache. The Healer's name tag read 'Marvin Marigold.'
"Hello, Malfoy family," said Marigold, glancing down to his clipboard. "Mr. Malfoy, your wife informs me that you'd like me to share your results with your Son. Is this true?" Lucius gave a curt nod. Marigold continued. "Very well. As per patient-doctor confidentiality, I ask to you Mr. Malfoy," he addressed Draco, "that what is said in this room may not be repeated to anyone." Draco raised an eyebrow. He had never heard of such a request, but curiosity got the best of him, and he nodded all the same. "Thank you. -It appears as though when your Father was assaulted this evening, the object used to attack him…" Marigold wiggled his mustache from side to side, struggling to find the words. "Well, I'll just come out and say it. It has drained him of every last drop of magic."
Déjà vu swung at Draco's psyche like a violent sword, severing that last bit of happy feeling lodged somewhere deep, deep inside. He glanced from his Mother, to Marigold, and finally his eyes caught his Father's, ever so much like his own. "Was it blue?" he asked quickly. "The object -was it blue?"
Lucius nodded once, and with another silent nod gave the order for Healer Marigold to leave the room. When the door clicked shut behind him, Narcissa let out an anxious breath and came to stand on the other side of Lucius's bed. "We really should tell the Auror Division, Lucius," she whispered quietly. "We shouldn't burden Draco with this."
"Nonsense, Cissy," Lucius replied dryly. "This is a family matter, and it should stay in the family."
"Why is it a family matter?" Draco asked, so confused. "Father, the object used on you was the Pandora Stone. Two years ago, Bastian Cane tried to take down the Ministry-"
"-I'm quite aware." Lucius nodded. "After all, it was I that sold that stone to Cane in the first place."
Draco paled. Surely he had heard wrong. No. It couldn't… could it? Lucius patted his son's hand and coughed harder than before.
"Our family has been the procurer of dark artifacts for as long as the Malfoy name has been synonymous with rich. I found the stone two years after the War, tucked away in a hole-in-the-wall shop in Turkey. Word gets out amongst collectors quickly. One thing led to another, and Cane made me an offer I couldn't refuse."
"What sort of offer would make you give up something as powerful as the Pandora Stone?" Draco asked quietly.
Lucius exchanged glances with his wife before returning his silver flecked eyes to his son's. "Dark Magic has its toll on everyone, Draco. What we reap is indeed what we sow. In the end, my fate is no different. – I've developed a condition with my lungs. Cane had an overabundance of herbs to keep my condition at bay. And it has worked for all of these years…"
"But without his magic," Narcissa chimed in, "The herbs are useless."
Draco could feel his heart pounding in his ears. This was all too much to soak in. He stood from his chair, releasing his father's hand to take a stance in front of the medical board on the wall. Glowing letters bustled around, checking off visits and potions. His breathing hitched, and he found himself unable to stop the anger from boiling out like a volcanic eruption. "So not only did you murder innocent civilians during the War, but you, inadvertently, cost the lives of hundreds of witches, wizards, and muggles. All because you're afraid to die." He closed his eyes, his fists balling. "You could have told me." He tried to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling, but it only flared his fury. "Your stupid Malfoy pride got a lot of people killed!" He spun on his heels, eyes retching open to cut heavily into his father's. "Do you know what your selfishness cost? Do you?" He knew he was shouting, but he couldn't control the volume of his voice anymore. Even Hermione and Potter were sure to hear him. "You are the cause of everything that's wrong in my life! Do you know I have a wonderful fiancé standing outside of that door over there, but I can't bring her in because of you? Because, even without of your stupid secrecy, I couldn't invite her in to look at the man who caused her late husband's death! You sold your soul for your own bloody life, and now look at you! Dying! Serves you right, you insufferable bastard!"
"Draco!" Narcissa shouted, but Draco wouldn't have any of it.
"Fuck him!" He screamed at her. He turned his attention to Lucius. "So you're dying? Boo hoo! I could give a shite less! Do you know what Cane did with that stone? Are you aware of how much blood was spilled on account of it?!"
"Yes." Lucius nodded, his voice even. "I'm very much aware, Draco. Now sit down, boy."
Draco was a grown man approaching thirty, but even now he was that little boy on his father's coat tails as he crossed the room and slumped back down in the swivel stool. He crossed his arms much like that small child he felt like, making a point not to touch his Father again. "So why tell me any of this?"
"Because," said Lucius, "This goes beyond you or me. This stretches out to the farthest reaches of our family. I do not know who attacked me tonight. He wore a white mask painted like a wolf. And he told me something that I never wish to repeat again, after tonight. So, are you listening, Draco?"
Draco nodded.
"What he said was this: the followers of Lord Voldemort and the seeds of their trees would be uprooted. Do you understand, my boy? Do you get it now? This isn't just about me. Or you. This is about your friends, your family, your son. Whoever attacked me plans to not only take out the remaining Death Eaters, but their families as well. And you're on that list, the same as me. Our days are numbered, Draco, unless you can find out who is behind all of this. But I must ask you to keep my condition of the utmost secrecy. If word got out..."
Draco scoffed, standing from his chair. "Don't worry. Your precious secret is safe with me. And I won't tell them you sold Cane the stone, but I warn you; if you slip a toe out of line before you pass away, I'll throw you in Azkaban myself, old man."
He clenched his fists, kissed his mother's cheek, and stalked his way towards the door. He glanced back once to his parents, remorse for all of the missed years between them coming to a head. Tonight, he wished for nothing else but finding Scorpius and hugging him so tight he might never let go again. Merlin… the Malfoys were quite a fucked up bunch, indeed. What had he gotten Hermione into?
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How To Train Your Auror 2: Family Ties