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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
- 20
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- 22
Thank you, waymay, for taking the reins and helping me with this story, ADW, and so much more.
~A.
I put the lines out in the
Water in the morning
They'll be loaded by the end of the day
I put a trap or two in the wolf gut slough
They'll be full if I'm lucky that way
I crossed that line with that woman of mine
She sent me on down that way
Now I'm making noise with the alligator boys
Twenty miles east of Gauttier
"Fish Assassin" by Shovels & Rope
Harry Potter approached the table; there came a tightening in his throat and jaw as he peered down at the infamous form of Bastian Cane. The last time he'd seen Diggle this way, he'd been forced to (painfully) walk on a broken leg and out himself, and the rest of the wizarding world, to the muggle population. There was no doubt in his mind whom sat in front of him -he could never forget this form in a million lifetimes.
"Diggle," he said quietly, taking a seat directly across from him. "Enjoying your freedom?"
Bastian Cane tensed in his chair, one hand poised on the back as if he were ready to run and bolt -but Harry removed his wand from its holster and rested it on the table, pointing it directly at Cane, and he settled back into his chair. Good. The bastard still recognized threats when he saw them. Still self-preserving. That was exactly what they needed out of him.
"You're Draco's source…" Cane's eye twitched, and he snatched up a shot of firewhiskey between them and downed it at once. His breath hitched as he hissed, the liquor burning down his throat, but it didn't stop him from grabbing up the second shot and taking it as well. When he finished, he wiped the sides of his mouth with his fingers and shook out his surprise. "I suppose it all makes sense, now. Why you weren't concerned that he attacked me." Those black eyes drifted behind Harry, out towards the center of the floor, and his eyes flickered green for half a moment. "Hermione?"
SMACK.
Harry whipped his head around to see Hermione's aggravated glare and Malfoy fumble backwards a step, clutching his cheek.
"Ooh, this just got good," said Cane, leaning back in his chair while tucking his hands behind his head. "Do you think they serve popcorn here?"
"I am really getting tired of people slapping me this week…" Draco grumbled, rubbing his sore cheek.
Hermione stared in wonder at the man before her, taking in his worn expression and sallow complexion. Had he slept at all since his departure from her? Not that it mattered much. She was so irate, she couldn't fathom taking pity on him at a time like this.
"Explain," she demanded. "Now."
"Love to -if you'd be so kind as to quit striking me first," Draco snapped. He wrapped his arms around her, despite her protests, and squeezed her tight to him. "Merlin, you smell nice."
"Smell…? Quit smelling me!" She smacked him on the arm and shoved away from him. "Do you have any idea what kind of torture you've put not only me through, but your entire family!? You -you're supposed to be in Azkaban right now!" She swatted him again in the shoulder.
"OW!"
"You attacked Diggle!"
"You're welcome." He held up his hands, palms out, surrendering to her anger. "It was all part of the plan, Hermione. Please. If you'll just calm yourself, we could all sit down and-"
"Don't you dare tell me to calm myself, Draco Lucius Malfoy!"
"Now he's gone and done it," Cane tsked, "Doesn't he know you never tell a woman to calm down?"
"You're awfully calm, considering…" Harry noted.
"Considering? What? That this was all a ruse?"
"No." Harry smirked, crossing his arms. "Considering what Hermione's going to do to you once she realizes you're here."
"Shit." Cane swallowed. "I didn't think of that."
"Alright!" Draco threw his forearms up to keep from being swatted. "Alright! Quit hitting me. Merlin! I should call protective services on you!" And though she was half-way serious with her smacks, there was nothing better than knowing he was tangible. The smirk across his face only made her angrier, and she gave a frustrated huff, crossing her arms. He rolled his eyes and said, "You know, if you want someone to blame, why not blame Potter? I never lied to you. He's been giving you the run and go."
Hermione's gaze shifted over to Harry, who sat at the table, a mug of butterbeer nearly to his lips. He stopped, though, when he noticed her. With a heavy sigh, he sat his glass down, motioned to the chairs around him, and said, "Come on, Hermione. It's time we clue you in." As her head whipped around the bar, he added, "It's secure. Everyone in here is someone from the Ministry that I trust with my life. -I promise. Come on." He patted the chair next to him. "Sit down."
Her eyes came back to Draco, who smiled faintly at her with encouragement. "I know it's a lot to stomach," he said, "but it's alright. I promise."
With nowhere else to turn, and so many questions boiling her mind, Hermione stomped across the establishment and took a seat next to Harry at the table. That's when she noticed a third body seated across from them, and she raised an eyebrow. "Dean?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. She's going to find out eventually. Show yourself. Your real self."
Dean cast Harry an anxious, fear-riddled expression. "She'll kill me."
"I'll do it myself if you don't," said Draco, taking a seat next to Dean. "Go on."
Inhaling through his nose, Dean closed his eyes -and then wasn't Dean at all. Seated across from her was a handsome looking gentleman with glossy brown hair, a strong jaw, and traditionally handsome features. His eyes opened, confirming her suspicions as emerald green gleamed back at her.
"Diggle." She moved on instinct, going for her wand, but Harry was quicker, diving his hands into her robes pockets and removing her dragon-heartstring bit of wood before tossing it over the table to Draco, who pocketed it with a smirk. Hermione was in far too strong a shock to say much anything else, so she stood up from the table and smacked Greg across the face with her palm -hard enough to leave a red mark. "Is that allowed?" she managed to sneer through her teeth, turning her attention to Harry.
"Sure. Yeah. Slap him as much as you like," Harry offered.
"Owwwww…." Diggle muttered, rubbing his cheek.
Draco chortled, "Hurts, doesn't it?"
"Shut up." Hermione slapped her hands down on the table. "All of you. Explain. Now."
"Draco's been playing double-agent since that night in the Forbidden Forest," said Harry at once, pausing to let her soak in his words. Hermione wasn't sure how to process them, so she waited for him to continue, but Draco spoke up first.
"I wanted to tell you, Hermione," he said, "but my grandfather has eyes everywhere. I had to make it look as if we were having problems -for your sake."
"My sake?"
"Your life," he corrected, reaching out and snatching up her hand to rub his thumb over the back of her knuckles. His eyes drifted down to her engagement ring, pensive. "Abraxas wanted you dead. I made him a deal. If I offed our engagement, he'd leave you alone. I had to make it convincing. Otherwise, we would have let you in from the beginning."
"All this time…" Her world felt shifted on its axis as she trained her eyes on Harry. "You could have let me know!"
"You're not as good an actress as you think you are," Harry rebutted, and a cocky laugh came from Diggle on the other side of the table.
All eyes turned to him, and his laughter only amplified. "Well, Miss Granger, he has a point. You hardly fooled me, did you?"
"Why is he here?" All of her anger, her frustration, it all was taken out in the form of dagger eyes at Gregory Diggle. She pointed an accusing finger at him. "He's supposed to be rotting in Azkaban. He killed Ron! How is he out? Why?" Each question made her voice amplify and shoot up an octave, until she sounded like a squeaking mouse instead of a furious witch.
"The Gray Magic," said Diggle, smirking. "They want it."
Her pointing finger fell, and she stared around the table in disbelief. She shook her head. "No. No, we buried it. We said we'd never use it again."
"Hermione," Draco called her attention at the same time that Harry reached up and yanked her back down into her chair, "We don't have a choice. Abraxas has both Pandora Stones."
"Both?" She gasped, her interest peaked. "There's two?" She, suddenly, wasn't going to hex Harry into oblivion for pulling at her robes.
"They're a set. Passed down from father to son for generations in my family, as a mark of complete power over the enemies of the Malfoy name. One of them was with me -the other resides in Abraxas's cane." It was written all over Draco's face; he wanted so desperately to be forgiven for lying to her. "We're powerless against him without the Gray. It's why I went to Potter as soon as I could."
"When-?"
"Before the official interrogation, Malfoy pulled me aside and confessed to his agreement with Abraxas Malfoy."
"Agreement?" Hermione swallowed a hard lump of dread. "What… what did you agree to, Draco?"
Draco smirked sadly and glanced down to his hands. "I'm to bring Diggle in for his official execution, along with the Gray Magic and the resurrection stone." A bitter laugh escaped his throat.
"That's why you were going through my things…" She blinked at him, hurt. "You could have told me. All of you."
"No," Harry shook his head. "We couldn't. Not until you were off Abraxas's radar. If it makes you feel any better, Malfoy wanted to confess the whole thing to you the moment we formed a plan. But I made the call not to. If you want someone to blame… blame me."
Draco's face was hopeful of forgiveness, but she ignored it -for now.
"Harry…" Hermione was hurt. "You shouldn't have hidden something like this from me."
"Well, I'm telling you now. We need you in on this plan."
"What is the plan?"
"Malfoy does exactly what he's agreed to. He delivers Abraxas the stone, the asshat," he gestured to Diggle, "and the Gray Magic."
"I really hope you have a better plan than that," Diggle frowned.
"In order to protect my son, we don't have much of a choice," Draco said definitively, rapping his knuckles across the table. "I have to uphold my end of the bargain."
"Why?"
Hermione pieced it together quickly with horror. "Because he made an unbreakable vow. -Didn't you?"
Draco glanced away quickly and stood from the table. "Can I have a moment alone with my fiancée?"
"Yeah. There should be a secure room upstairs." Harry rifled through his pockets and fished out a key, which he tossed in the middle of the table. He then added, "No… lovey business, alright? Just talk?"
Hermione reached over, snatched up the key, and stood to follow Draco. "He'd be lucky if he gets a kiss from me ever again." She noted her fiancé's disheartened smirk, but he said nothing as he led them towards the back and up the old, rickety staircase which squeaked under their weight. There were three doors up at the top, but Draco seemed to know which one to stop at: the very last one. He thrust his hand out, and she handed him the key; both of them stepped through the door to greet the quaint sight of a four poster bed with cream colored sheets and hardly anything else. Draco took a seat at the edge of the bed, folding his hands between his knees, staring down at the floor.
"I'm sorry." His voice quivered. "I'm… I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am. For lying to you. For keeping secrets." He ran a shaky hand through his hair and tossed himself back onto the bed to stare at the ceiling. "He didn't give me a choice, Hermione. It was either take the Unbreakable Vow or allow him to use Scorpius as a pawn in his game of Wizard's Chess. -He's got them all under Unbreakable Vows. Every single one of them."
"But… that means he has an end of the bargain to keep too, doesn't it?" She felt like one of the furniture pieces rather than a useful witch in the moment. "What exactly was your vow, Draco?" She shrugged off her over-robes and set them on a hook on the door. Then she, carefully, made her way to the bed and took a seat next to him. She suddenly felt very guilty for striking him. It was Harry to insist on keeping secrets, and it was all for Draco's safety. She would have fouled it all up, had she known. She could have cost him his life. His hand reached over and traced down her arm gently, and she turned her head to meet his gaze.
"My vow was simple: I'm to take Scorpius's place in his army of animagi and obey all orders given to me under my grandfather's command."
"You're not an animagus."
"But I could be, with the Gray Magic."
She shook her head helplessly, gaping at him. "You told me you'd never use it."
"I don't have a choice, Hermione." He shrugged, as if the idea was nothing more than common. "If I break this Vow, I die. If I die, I can't protect Scorpius,or you, and he gets him anyway. And it's not just Scorpius…" He looked thoroughly pained as he clasped his hand around her arm and tugged her down into his embrace. Hermione molded instinctively into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling the smell of fresh soap and pine. "My father had an affair. I... have a sister."
There was a moment of silence as Hermione stewed in the confession, thinking over Lucius's memories, and then turned her face towards him at once. "You have a sister?"
"I do." He smiled, though it was hollow.
"How old is she?"
"Eleven."
"What's her name?"
"Victoria…" He paused. "Victoria Crabbe."
It then clicked in Hermione's head where she'd heard the name Irma before. It was on the list of potential Death Eater families in danger: Irma Crabbe. Maiden name… Abbott.
"Your life could be a soap opera," she noted. "We could call it 'All My Purebloods.'"
He chuckled, pulling her even tighter to him. "You know I have no clue what a soap opera is. Do people perform in showers or something?"
It was her turn to laugh, despite the obvious tension between them. Being here, in his arms again… there was nothing like it. "Something like that," she muttered, turning to nuzzle into his chest. Before she knew it, she was crying into his shirt. She fisted the material with strength, sobbing. "I thought I'd lost you."
He traced his fingers up and down her arm with adoration. "Silly witch. Don't you understand my feelings for you by now?"
And just like that, all of her anger melted away, replaced by a sense of longing. It filled her heart with endless joy to know he still loved her, still cared about her, and still wanted to marry her. All of her doubts were stemmed off the assumption that Draco went corrupt -knowing he, in fact, hadn't, made her so giddy she could hardly contain herself. New tears came this time, but they were ones of relief. Underneath it all, he was still her Draco. The Auror who loved his son more than anything in the world. The man who learned to love despite his horrible upbringing. Abraxas hadn't cracked into his moral code. He was still him, deep down inside.
In a flurry of movement, Hermione climbed on top, straddled him, and sent her lips crashing down on his while Draco went wide eyed. He hadn't expected the adoring assault, and his arms flailed out across the bed as if he'd been attacked by a wild bear. Soon though, when he realized she was kissing him, his body relaxed, and he moved his hands up to the sides of her cheeks, deepening the kiss with a tender lick to the seam between her lips. Hermione's lips parted, allowing him access, and his tongue slid inside, caressing hers with precise talent. It felt like eternity since they'd kissed each other in such a way, as if their entire world was centered in this one moment. They'd become too comfortable, she soon realized, before the dangers. They always assumed they had more time, but now she felt as if there just wasn't enough time. If at any time Draco faulted or accidentally broke his vow, he'd die. Oh, God. She couldn't stomach the thought. He promised her he was too stubborn to die.
She peeled away from his lips long enough to mutter, "Lock the door."
Draco smirked up at her and snapped his fingers; he always did have a talent for wandless magic. The door lock turned and clicked, solidifying their privacy. And then Hermione found herself flipped over onto her back, Draco on top of her now, propping himself up by his hands as he bit on his lower lip. "Potter said no love making," he teased.
"When has that ever stopped us before?"
His eyes lit up in amusement. "Merlin, I love you." He dipped his face forward and began to trail brazen kisses down her neck, occasionally biting and nipping and suckling to lay claim to her.
Jameson cleared his throat as the Ministry coroner unlocked freezer 32 and pulled out the gurney inside. The body was covered by a thick, white sheet, leaving so much to the imagination. Theodore wasn't accustomed to seeing the dead; the cases he'd worked on never called for body counts. Aside from his great-aunt Nelly's passing when he was nine, this would be the first corpse he would see up close and personal. He needed to do it, though. For Lindy. For her family.
He nodded once to the respected coroner, signifying he was ready. Gloved fingers reached over and pulled the sheet back, revealing Bolt's pale, inanimate face.
A lump of ice froze inside Jameson's intestines as he took in the sight of his once childhood schoolmate dead on the table. She'd been stripped to bare skin, and an embarrassed flush tinted his cheeks as he sterilized his hands with a spell and pulled the sheet all the way back. Her body was smaller than most Aurors -even Auror Granger's. Her blue lips looked pursed and cracked around the edges. She still wore yellow eyeshadow from the night before. Theodore felt a strong urge to owl his mother and tell her he loved her.
He observed her body with clinical interest, trying very hard not to take notice of her areolas or the space between her legs, instead focusing on her arrow wound. It was a small entrance wound. "May I see the arrow?" he asked.
"Do you have clearance?" asked the coroner, and Theo produced the appropriate paperwork. "I'll be right back. Evidence is in the next room." He stalked away, his mustache working back and forth as he muttered under his breath about Aurors and their meddling with his line of work.
Theodore waited patiently, allowing his eyes to travel down her form. The dip in her stark-still stomach made goosebumps flourish over his flesh. She'd never take another breath. It was so peculiar to think how a body was so delicate. One little hole in just the right spot, and life was snuffed out.
"I'm so sorry, Bolt," he said, grabbing up the coroner's initial file on her and sifting through the pages. So far, cause of death was confirmed, indeed, as an arrow wound. No known foreign substances found in her blood, so no poison. The arrow was spelled, however.
'Magic detected: spell unknown ATM'
At the bottom of the file rested Bolt's application into the Auror Division, her test results, and her profile. Theodore flipped through them, taking note of the small details; Bolt was excellent at charms, hexes, and most everything to do with a wand. She didn't excel as expected with wandless magic, however. Patronus was a butterfly -he almost laughed at the thought of a Dementor being frightened off by a flittering butterfly, but then checked himself when he remembered where he was. He looked back to the clipboard. Something felt… off. He didn't know exactly what, but he usually followed his gut instincts. -1.6 meters tall… red hair… wait. Red hair? He eyed over the blonde with interest. Did she dye it? Carefully, he reached over and checked the follicles of her hair, down to the roots. No dye job… perhaps a potion? How interesting. Blue eyes… yes, that seemed to be in order. Scar on left palm: fishing accident. He turned her hand over with interest.
Ding, ding, ding. He had a winner. No scar.
Well, wasn't that peculiar?
"Here's the arrow," said the coroner, offering out a stasis sealed arrow. Theodore took it and held the tip up to his eyeline.
"Blood?"
"Cleaned, I'm afraid. For the secondary testings."
"I see… Did you test the blood to see if it matched the victim's?"
The man puffed out his chest, and his mustache waved wildly. "Excuse me, Auror Jameson. The arrow was found in the victim's heart! I do not come into your Department and tell you how to do your job! Do not assume to know how to do mine!"
"My apologies," Jameson bowed his head respectively, then added, "But -did you, though?"
"No." He huffed, crossing his arms. "I did not see the point, seeing as how I already knew it belonged to the victim."
"Did it though?" Theodore's mind raced wildly as he held up the arrow and then, without warning, plunged it into the chest again. The coroner cried out, horrified, ranting and raving -that was, until Jameson removed the arrow to find -nothing. Nothing around the stasis charm. No blood. No tissue. Nothing. "Give me your scalpel."
"I will not!"
"I could arrest you for impeding an ongoing investigation, and lock you away for tampering with evidence." He motioned down to the arrow. "Your choice, coroner."
Defeated, the coroner turned as purple as a grape and Accio'd his scalpel, handing it to the Auror. Theodore was careful as he cut open the area surrounding the hole to Bolt's chest and narrowed his eyes at what he saw.
"Hmm…" Once again, to the coroner's horror, he watched Theodore tamper with the body as he cut even further down and thrust his hand inside. There was a sickening, squishy sound, followed by the crunching of bone. When he removed his hand, he brought with him a tiny black box. "How peculiar." His hand appeared clean as he removed it, and he gazed in wonder. "Very peculiar." A determined gleam in his eye, he pried open the box and gave a whistle. "Just what I thought."
"W-What is that?" The coroner asked, dumbfounded.
"This?" Theodore offered out the box, where a single finger rested inside on a bed of dirt. "This is all that's needed to create a golem, Coroner Verua. Contact Auror Potter immediately. Let him know: Auror Bolt is still, very much, alive."
Drop those truth bombs, Theodore! Dramione Lemon and more answers next chapter! XD Please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts!
~A.
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How To Train Your Auror 2: Family Ties