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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
- 26
- 27
- 28
So, as some of you might have heard, How To Train Your Auror was nominated for a Dramione award! It came in 2nd place in the best crime/mystery fic category! Woohoo! Thank you to everyone that voted!
This chapter is twice as long as the normal ones, but that's because it has SO MUCH HEART. I spilled a lot of my soul into writing this chapter, so I hope it shines through.
Thank you, waymay, for awwing and complimenting this chapter (even when you grimaced with Ron haha)
Special vibes out to LightofEvolution today!
~A.
Are you with me after all
Why can't I hear you
Are you with me through it all
Then why can't I feel you
Stay with me, don't let me go
Because there's nothing left at all
Stay with me, don't let me go
Until the Ashes of Eden fall
"Ashes of Eden" by Breaking Benjamin
This was on repeat through most of writing this chapter. Please, give it a listen.
Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He didn't let the Quaffle in
Weasley is our King.
Weasley can save anything,
He never leaves a single ring,
That's why Gryffindors all sing:
Weasley is our King.
*(*)*
Surrounded by plates of pad thai, Ron Weasley never looked less inclined towards food in his entire life. A scowl set upon his face like a permanent marker, exaggerating the lines of his face. Every few moments or so, between the silence after Hermione finished her explanation, he would take a giant swig of his water, perhaps in an attempt to douse the fire burning within his soul. It could be seen just behind the blue orbs staring befuddled into the eyes of his wife. It appeared like a lot to take in, and Hermione wondered if Ron would throw the entire table over in a flare of anger-he had a foul temper when push came to shove. Never towards her, no. Ron was simply passionate.
It surprised her when he simply picked up a fork and jammed it into the last egg roll, piking it before pointing it at the exit door. "So none of this is real?" His voice cracked on the last word, moving up an octave. "Hermione, come on. Even I'm not that daft. Is this some sort of prank? Who put you up to this? George?"
"This isn't a joke, Ron," Hermione twiddled her thumbs together, staring evenly at his face. "It's real. All of it. The only part of it that isn't real… is, well, you."
He glared, taken aback by her words. Ron abandoned his egg roll, tossing it onto the table before reaching over and clasping one of his large, warm hands over hers. She nearly wished he wouldn't -it felt too nice. He wasn't real, she kept reminding herself. This Ron wasn't her Ron. Her Ron was…
"I'm real, Hermione." He leaned over the table and placed her knuckles to his lips, kissing them. "I'm right here."
"But you're not." More tears came, streaming their way down her cheeks in a messy display. "As much I want you to be, you're still gone!" She pried her hand away from his, stifling a muffled sob. It took her a minute to collect herself, and when she did, she met his calm stare.
"Prove it, then."
Hermione thought about it. How could she? She glanced down to her left hand, where a glistening, simple diamond rested inside a white-gold setting. Her wedding ring… She hadn't pulled it out of her jewelry box in ages, and yet here it rested on her finger where Draco's should have been. Draco's…
She presented her wand and, painfully, whispered the spell, pointing at the ring. "Aparecium." Ron's ring, so simple and yet so eloquent, gave way with a shimmer, as well as did the entire building. He gasped, watching his own hand glisten like a hologram in front of him, then looked to Hermione's hand for his ring. In its place sat an oversized diamond ring with topaz accent stones. The same color of the dress Draco purchased for her, and then, later, discarded in their first intimate encounter. Such a sly Slytherin…
Ron's eyebrows pulled together, and he became unsettled. "Hermione?"
"You died, Ron. Three years ago." She stared down at Draco's ring, pensive. A sense of calm filled her, as if the ring solidified the falseness of this alternate reality. It reminded her what waited for her on the outside -who was counting on her to succeed in her mission. No matter how beautiful this moment, sitting across from Ron, was only a reflection of what could have been. A dream. Diggle, the bastard he was, still was correct on this. It was all false.
"Whose ring is that?" Ron whispered.
"Mine. Well, I…" She laughed, though it was hollow. "It's my engagement ring."
"Engagement ring? Where's your wedding ring?"
"I still have it," she assured him, slipping Draco's ring off her finger to hold between them. "When you died, I was… destroyed. I couldn't think, or eat, or function properly. All I could think was how happy we were, and how I never thought I could live the rest of my life without you in it. -This ring was given to me by someone who helped me bring in the person responsible for you being torn from not only my life, but Harry's, and Ginny's, your family's… our friends'..." A new tear slipped down her cheek, but this one wasn't meant for Ron. "He's, really, a wonderful man... deep down."
"And rich to boot," Ron muttered, eyeing the ring with suspicious intentions, "Merlin's beard, that's an expensive looking ring, Mione." He attempted to soften his features, though the redness of his face countered the try. "This must have cost a small fortune…"
"He could afford it."
"Do I…" Ron coughed. "Do I know him?"
She nodded, slowly.
"Tell me who."
"You won't like it."
"Tell me."
"You'll only grow angry."
"I'm already angry. -Is it Diggs?"
Hermione laughed coldly. "Circe, no." Her eyes drifted up to his.
"But it's someone we know. Someone who can afford a ring like this. And someone I wouldn't approve of." The cogs in his head began to turn, piecing the bits together. "No." His eyes flashed up to hers. "No."
"Ron-"
"Not him, Mione!" Ron shook his head, face flaring the color of wine. "You know -I could, maybe, sort of, handle this fantasy that I'm 'dead'-" he put the word in air quotes, "-And I managed to stomach the bit where you think it's all real, but this?" He gestured to the ring. "Bloody Hell! Not Malfoy!" He pushed his chair away from the table, rattling it as he stood. "If you're seeing him behind my back, the least you could do is be honest about it! You don't have to go making up a story like this!"
"Ronald, think logically!" she begged, slipping the ring back on her finger, noticing how it pained him to watch. "Please! Why would I make up a story like this? Have you ever known me to tell tall tales?"
His eyes widened as he tried to come up with some lame way of rebutting, but found it useless. "So say this is all real, Hermione! If what you say is true, it means Diggs was also telling the truth!"
"I really wish you wouldn't call him Diggs..."
"Was it true? What he said about you sleeping with Malfoy not even a year after I'm 'dead'?" He did the air quotes again. "Was any of that a lie?"
Guilt. All she could feel was guilt. Guilt for putting Ron through this torture. Guilt, because she couldn't deny any of it. Guilt, because she didn't want to feel guilty. "It's more complicated than it sounds."
Ron glared at her, mouth open, face as red as his hair. "Bloody fucking Hell." He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, threw a bit of money on the table, and started towards the door.
"Ron! Wait! Where are you going?"
"I need to process this!" He shouted over his shoulder. "Malfoy! Fucking Malfoy!" He pried the door open, but Hermione caught it and followed him out into the fresh air. "Hermione, no offence, but leave me the Hell alone right now." He fumbled around in his pockets until he brought out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
"You don't smoke," she muttered. "Stop it." Hermione reached for the cigarettes, but Ron pulled them back, shaking his head.
"I didn't used to, no. But I picked up the habit a year ago. You know that." He pried one out of the pack, lit it, and tucked the rest back into his pockets.
"Why?"
"Being an Auror is stressful, Mione." Ron took a thick drag and held it for a moment before exhaling. The hand holding his cigarette shook, but the rest of him remained still. "These help me cope with flying off the handle. -And, if what you tell me is true, these won't kill me, anyway. I'm already dead."
"Ron," she scolded.
The corner of his lips turned upwards, despite his anger. He took another successful puff of his fag and offered it out to her. She shook her head, and he shrugged, knocking the tip of ash into the ground below. He stared out into the parking lot for a time, not saying anything at all, only trying to calm himself. When he seemed sure he wouldn't raise his voice, he tossed his cigarette to the ground, snuffed it out with the toe of his shoe, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I don't want it to be true. It just can't be."
"Believe me, I don't want it to be real, either. But it is."
"...Diggs wouldn't kill me," Ron mumbled, shaking his head.
"Not your Diggle, no. This is all a fantasy life. The real Diggle… he's much more of a headache."
"Headache is putting it lightly, don't you think? Considering we're talking about my own murder." Ron cleared his throat. "How… how does it happen?" He glanced down to her ring again, trying so very hard to will it to be his own. He absentmindedly began to turn his wedding ring around his finger with his hand while prying his eyes away.
Hermione didn't want to tell him. But she knew she must. "You were working on internal affairs in the Auror Department. Noticed money missing, traced it back to Diggle. You… um… you confronted him about it," she squeezed her eyes shut tight, willing the words to come. "He showed me his memories. You were kind, even then. He asked you to let him explain, and when you arrived at the place you were to meet…" She choked back the urge to cry. "He conned you. Tried to get you to join his ranks, but you refused." Sniffling into the back of her sleeve, Hermione forced her eyes open. "You drew your wand. He rendered you unconscious and… there was this box." Their eyes met. "A Pandora Box. It's soul purpose was to drain someone of their magic. And once enough magic is obtained, it explodes. He locked you away with it." She wondered if telling him Draco's responsibility in all of it would send him over the edge, so she withheld for now.
Ron paled exponentially, fumbling in his pockets for another cigarette. Hermione reached out, stopping him from completing his actions, compelling him to listen.
"I'm so sorry.."
Firm hands reached out suddenly, and she found herself being pulled into a gripping hug which nearly toppled her off her feet. "I don't want to be dead."
Though she knew he was entirely serious, she still laughed. "No one does, Ronald." Her laugh set off a chain reaction, and he did as well, nestling his face into her hair. Warm hands gripped her tight, rubbed soothing circles down her back. "I should be comforting you," she admitted, though she loved his touch.
"It is a bit much to take in all at once." There was a pause. "How's my family?"
"They miss you terribly, but I still come for the holidays. It makes it easier on them, I think."
"Gin?"
"Baby number three on the way." She laughed. "A little girl. Lily."
"That's wonderful." His voice held so much sorrow. "Harry. How's Harry?"
"As broken as me, I'm afraid." She leaned back and held his face in her hands, studying every detail. "You motivated him to work harder, to become better. He became Lead Auror -not Diggle."
"And… Malfoy?" He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to broach the subject. "How does he come into all of this?"
She sighed. "It's… complicated."
"With Malfoy, it usually is." Ron searched her eyes. "I'm not going to even try to begin to understand how you could fall for him. It's… well, it's bloody disgusting, isn't it?"
"He's different than before," she automatically defended. "We worked together to bring down Diggle and developed something in the process. He has a little boy -Scorpius. Having a child changed him."
"I highly doubt that…"
"Ron, be serious."
"I am, Hermione. I just don't get it. But... maybe, I'm not meant to." He gave a sad, lopsided grin. "Understanding's never been my strength. That's what you're for." Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead. "I want to believe this is all some delusion you're having, but… something inside me says it's real. I can feel it in my bones. -So... if I'm dead, what am I doing here then?"
"This mirror is meant for Diggle to face the repercussions of his actions and feel remorse. But he means to trap us here and -oh, Ron. There's just so much going on, and if we don't get out of here…"
"Malfoy's going to die."
"Yes."
They stared at each other.
"You love him."
Her cheeks warmed. "Yes."
Ron's face scrunched up, and his nose crinkled as if he were smelling bad cabbage, reminding her of Harry. "Really, Hermione?" He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Ferret face?"
"Ronald."
"Blimey…" He shook his head. "That snarky git won my girl's heart?" He snorted a laugh. "Fucking Hell." Then he scratched the tip of his nose. "I think I'm going to be sick." With gentle fingers, he reached down and clasped her hand in his, weaving their fingers. "I love you."
Those three words fractured Hermione in the most exquisite way. "I love you, too."
"Look, we both know I'm, um, not good with words. So.. You're… you're my home.." His free hand tilted her face up, his fingers gently resting underneath her chin. "I don't tell you that enough."
Sniffling, she smiled back at him. "You're always with me."
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted to ask you to stay," he admitted. When she opened her mouth to speak, he cut her off. "-But I know I can't. Forget about Malfoy -I can't take you away from Harry, too. I don't think he could take it. He's so sensitive." He flashed her a depressed wink. "Will I… I won't exist, once you're gone, will I?"
Hermione reached up and touched her heart. "In here."
It was in moments like these, with Ron's hand in hers and that goofy grin on his face, when all the world felt like a fairy tale. Love -true love -never goes away. Not really. Hermione realized this the moment Ron tilted his head forward, eyes fumbling closed before he pressed his warm lips to hers. Time scattered and crumbled in on itself. The world was a simple grey pallet against Ron's soothing aura. His kiss, so gentle and foreign, slipped her into a nostalgic trance that made her hands cradle his cheeks and forced her up on her toes to deepen the kiss. There was nothing -nothing like the taste of Ron, and this mirror image of him fit every memory, down to the softness of his tongue. She sobbed into the kiss, refusing to break it, even when heavy tears spilled down her face.
Before she knew what hit her, Ron had backed her up into the building's wall, resting a large hand on the back of her head to dampen the impact as her back collided with the bricks. He pressed his body against hers, throwing himself into the heated kiss, his free hand smoothing down her cheeks to wipe her tears. Hermione whimpered when he pulled away and smiled gently.
"I want you to remember that," he said, grinning larger than before. "Every version of me, real or not, loves you unconditionally."
Hermione nodded, breaking out into a smile despite her tears. "I love you, too. So much."
"And… Malfoy?" he sneered the name dully. "Does he love you?"
"Very much so."
"And you're in love with him?"
"Ron, I know you won't understand-"
"-Do you?"
"Yes," she replied, meekly.
"Yeah. Still disgusting. That's going to take me a moment to process." Ron stuck out his tongue, though his tone was teasing. Hermione swatted him on the arm, and he continued, "Alright. Let's do this, then." He pried them both off the wall. "And I'm not doing this for Malfoy. I'm doing it for you. -Let's go find Diggle and fuck up his day."
Greg Diggle snorted a laugh, staring up at the obnoxiously large silver M boasted on the medical shop door. Such prideful creatures, those Malfoys. But how did Draco fair in this alternate world? Greg supposed if he never attempted his nefarious deeds, he would have never met Draco Malfoy, and, therefore, would have never introduced him to his ex-wife, Astoria. It came as a bit of a surprise to him when he spotted, through the doorway, the witch seated at the desk of the shop, sipping tea and reading. He narrowed his eyes, pushed open the door, and listened to the ding of magical chimes announcing his entrance.
Astoria looked up from her book, smiling sweetly. "Welcome to Malfoy Apothecary."
Greg smirked, glancing about the shop. It was riddled with shelves of colorful bottles, labeled for headaches, colds, dragon pox, and more. "My," he said, "what a selection you have."
"Thank you -is there anything I can help you find today?"
"Yes. An old acquaintance, actually. Possibly the owner of this shop. Draco Malfoy?"
"My husband. I'm afraid he's out at the moment."
"Shame." Diggle clicked his tongue. "Husband, you say?"
"Yes."
"Well… Draco, certainly, faired a special prize, didn't he? Not quite as fetching as the dollop in my eyes, but you were always a pretty thing."
Astoria's smile faltered slightly. "Well, you're a charming one, aren't you…"
"Forgive me." He gave a small bow. "Do you know when your husband might return?"
"I'm unsure." She raised a superior eyebrow. "But I could tell him you stopped by, Mr…?"
"Diggle." Greg flashed a set of his pretty, white teeth. "Gregory Diggle, Lead Auror of the Ministry of Magic. Well, soon to be. Once I'm sworn in."
The chime of the bell rang out once again, and he turned around, not expecting whom he found standing in the doorway, but glad to see her nonetheless. "Hermione! What a pleasant surprise! You're a quick tracker."
"All I needed to do was follow the scent of manure," she quipped back, crossing her arms. "We need to chat."
"By all means. Shall we do it here?" Diggle threw his hands up and gestured to the shop. "I take it you did read the sign on the door." Giddy, he chewed his lower lip, noticing the small twitch at the corner of her mouth. "Yes, you did, didn't you? Forgive me, where are my manners? Mrs. Weasley, I'd like you to meet-" He waved his arm over to Astoria, "The wife of our dear friend, Draco. What did you say your name was, love?"
"Astoria," the witch replied. "And I didn't."
"Right. Astoria. Astoria Malfoy. Wife of Draco Malfoy. Tell me, Astoria. Is it a pleasant marriage?"
"That's hardly any of your concern," Astoria sneered gracefully, crossing her arms. "Look, Mr. Diggle. I have no qualms about escorting you outside on your posterior. If you'd please be so kind, do take your leave, or I'll be forced to kick you out myself." She waved a slender arm towards the door.
Hermione, instead of replying to Greg, or even giving into one of his taunts, moved past him and reached out, grasping Astoria's bare arm. "You're cured."
"Excuse you! Take your hand off me at once!" Astoria moved to draw her wand, but Greg was quicker, pulling a newly discovered wand out of his pockets (hurrah for alternate realities) and brandished it at the witch.
"If you harm my friend, I'll be forced to harm you." His protective nature towards Hermione short circuited any common sense he had, even when he knew it wasn't prudent. "Answer the lady's question." He noticed Hermione's glare and added with a smirk, "Please."
"I'm not sure how the two of you knew about my condition," Astoria said, wrenching her wrist out of Hermione's hand, "But if you must know, Draco cured me."
"Cured you? How?"
"Look around, dear." The witch smirked. "My husband is one of the most sought after theoretical alchemists in Europe. He double majored in Healer magic as well as magical Chemistry."
"No. No, that's not right." Greg shook his head, angered by her words. "Draco Malfoy is a self-centered twat who wallowed in self-pity, vainly trying to obtain a way to remove his Dark Mark."
Astoria considered Greg carefully, narrowing her eyes. "Perhaps, in the beginning, when I first met him. But the moment he learned of my blood curse, he threw all his efforts into saving my life. Successfully, I might add." She looked to Hermione. "Who are you?"
"She's my wife," came the voice of Ron Weasley, simultaneous with a new chime from the door as he stepped inside.
Hermione felt the flutter of her heart, and her lips pulled back in a smile as her eyes connected with Ron. He grinned back at her, blue eyes twinkling with happiness. "Hi, babe."
"You know I hate it when you call me that," she said with a laugh.
Diggle glanced between the two. "Oh, goody. Just what I need. -Look, Weasley, if you've come to try and guilt me, it won't work."
"I dunno, Diggs," said Ron, spinning his wand in his fingers, perfected from years of practice. "I'm pretty convincing, when push comes to shove. Of course, when I talk, I don't spout out bullshit everywhere I go."
"Says the pale imitation."
Ron's face fell, and his cheeks burned bright. "And whose fault is it I'm not the real thing?" He took a step towards Diggle. "You can stand there. Insult me. I don't care. I might not be the smartest, or the most cunning, or the bravest, but I have one thing you never did -Hermione." Another step closer. "And that just eats at you, doesn't it?"
"Hmph." Diggle rolled his eyes. "It used to. But then I took it all away in the blink of an eye." He raised his wand. "By killing you, I set her free."
"You can't, honestly, believe that," Hermione gasped.
"Think about it," he said, glancing her direction. "This oaf was never good enough for you. He's right. He doesn't have the brains, guile, or the gut to be with someone as fetching as you."
There was that word again. Fetching. It was a trigger for her in so many ways, and like lightning, her hand went to her wand and she ran forward, poking Diggle square in the Adam's apple with the tip. "That day in front of the Wizengamot -was that all a lie!?"
"No, Hermione," he whispered gently, leaning into her wand so that it pressed harshly against his throat. "I've told you before, I never lied to you. I was sorry. I let the Gray consume me, and in doing so, I was sorry for taking the one you loved the most away from you. But if he's what you desire, far be it for me to stand in the way of it."
"And in return, you kill Draco," she whispered softly so Astoria could not hear. "Funny, it doesn't seem like penance as much as revenge to me."
"Whatever's going on here," Astoria piped up loudly with a bored edge in her tone, "could you not take it outside?"
"No worries, ma'am," Ron smiled, passing Diggle and stepping up to the counter to present his Auror badge. "Deputy Auror Ron Weasley. This man is a criminal."
"Maybe in another world," sneered Diggle, "But here, I'm a saint. -And your superior, I might add."
"Well, like you said before, Diggs. This is just a pale imitation."
"I don't have time for this." Diggle stepped back, preparing to, no doubt, Apparate. Until, he found he couldn't. He stared in horror, glancing about the shop. Quickly, he backed his way to the door and reached for the handle, which flared bright orange and burnt his hand, causing him to yip forward, away from the offending object. "Set some traps, I see."
"Not as brainless as you claim, I guess," Ron smirked, crossing his arms. "Come on, Greg. Face me like a man."
"You're an image in a mirror. Hardly a man."
"You're a murderer." Ron flexed his hands, cracking his knuckles while balling them into fists. "Out of the two, I think I'll take the former."
Diggle snorted a laugh. "You have no idea why I want to stay in this mirror, do you?"
"Probably something to do with feeding that ego you've got," Ron countered, glancing to Hermione. "He's like a stronger-jawed version of Malfoy."
"Do not compare me with that loathsome inbreeder," Diggle spat out. "You want to know why I stay, Weasley? Why I have no guilt in my heart? I'm sure it's no surprise to our dear Hermione, considering she's the brightest witch anywhere she goes." Hermione's heart gave a startled leap in her chest, and she prayed he wouldn't say the words. It was in vain. "Because I've offered her a way to bring you back, and she refuses to take it."
Ron lowered his wand. "What?"
The front of the shop tinkled, and the door swung wide open, revealing a tall, slender man with his arms full of paper bags. His silver eyes settled on the sight before him; his wife tucked behind the counter, two men with their wands drawn, and… "Granger?" He scrunched his face up.
"Draco."
Hermione, for half a moment, felt compelled to greet him with a warm smile, but then she remembered -this wasn't her Draco. This was a figment version of him. A could have been. One who set his bags down on the floor and, very slowly, reached for his wand in the holster of his belt. "Astoria. Is everything alright?" His eyes fell on Ron. "Weasley?"
"How'd you get past my wards?" Ron said at once, scrunching his face.
"Well, they weren't that difficult to outmaneuver, were they? It makes sense, now, how I was able to bypass them so easily, considering they came from you." He glanced to his wife. "Astoria?"
"I'm fine. They're all a lot of barking lunatics, but I'm fine. Yet, somehow, that one-" she pointed to Hermione, "-knew about my condition."
The room grew quiet as Draco crossed the shop directly up to Hermione and stared down at her with superiority and confusion. Hermione thought he might say something demeaning, or perhaps grill her with interrogative questions. Instead, when he was no more than a foot away from her, he smirked. "Astoria, do you know who this frizzy haired mess is? This," he gestured to Hermione as if she were a planted pot, "is the decorated 'War-hero', Hermione Granger. Brightest witch of our generation and all that." He rolled his eyes. "So it's no wonder she figured out your plight, considering she's an insufferable know-it-all with her talons in the Ministry."
"Oy, oy!" Ron said, "That's my wife, Malfoy! Watch your tongue."
"Shut it, Weasley. You're in my shop, violating about seven Ministry regulation rules, if I'm not mistaken." His gazed lingered over Hermione. "Weasley, hmm? Suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You always did have a soft spot for oddities. My condolences." Draco's eyes trailed over to Diggle. "Who are you?"
"Gregory Diggle," he replied, extending his hand. "My apologies for my colleague's outburst."
Draco raised a haughty eyebrow, eyeing Diggle's hand but not taking it. "So you're an Auror then? What's the phrase dear?" He called to his wife. "Aurors never age?"
"That's the one." She nodded.
"Look, we don't have time for this." Ron charged across the room in a flash, giving Diggle no time to counter as he punched him square in the nose, knocking his wand out of his hand in the process. The resounding crack of Diggle's nose being broken echoed inside the small shop, and three pairs of eyes watched in horror as Ron threw Diggle up against the shelving of the left wall. "Look at me!" he shouted. "Fucking look at me, you worthless peice of shit."
Diggle laughed like a mad man, throwing his head back against the shelf behind him. "Ohoh… that… that packed a punch." Without warning, Ron jerked him forward and then back, smashing his head into a bottle in the process. Blood poured from Diggle's ear, but he only chuckled with a daze of dizziness. "I can see why you like him!" he called to Hermione. "He's got matzi!"
"Shut up!" Ron shouted at once. "You don't talk to her! You have something to say, you say it to me. Get me?"
Hermione saw, out of the corner of her eye, Draco poised to stun with his wand, and countered it with a quick flick of the wrist, "Peterificus Totalus!" His body tensed up, and in a fitted rush, he fell backward onto the floor. "Sorry." She pointed her wand at Astoria. "I really am. Please, don't make me."
With a maniacal laugh, Diggle leaned forward into Ron's face. "Such a loyal lap dog you are, Weasley. This must be so difficult for you, knowing you don't exist."
"Oh, I exist alright, Diggs." Ron narrowed his eyes, rarred his fist back, and smashed it into Diggle's jaw. "And I don't care what you have to say. You're going to shut up and listen. Got it? I've had one Hell of a day." Both his hands dug into the wizard's robes, and with brute force, he slid him down the rows of medical vials, knocking some of them to the floor. They cracked and hissed as pretty smoke fell out of a few, while others bubbled and eroded the wooden slats beneath their feet. "I won't let you stand there and fuck up Hermione's life not once, but twice!"
"Hahaha! Is that what I've done? Weasley, Weasley, Weasley. Look at your little outburst! Is this," he wiped his bloody mouth, "any way to act in front of the woman you love?"
"Don't talk to me about love, Diggle," spat Ron, "Don't you fucking dare." He threw Diggle to the floor, causing him to land on his arm. Crack. Diggle cried out in pain, but Ron simply kicked him over onto his back before taking his foot and jamming the heel down into the broken arm.
"Fuck!"
"I might not be real, but I bet that pain is, isn't it?" He twisted his foot harder, and Diggle seethed between clenched teeth, throwing his good arm out in search of his wand. When he didn't find it, he drew his hand into a fist and rammed it down on Ron's ankle, but he wouldn't be budged. "I hope you realize the pain you're feeling now -it's nothing compared to what you've done to Hermione." Ron dropped to his knees, pinning Diggle under his weight while drawing his fist back and whacking Diggle in the ear with it.
It pained Hermione to watch, but she allowed it, continuing to witness the spectacle.
"Look at her!" Ron grabbed Diggle by the scruff of his collar and yanked him up, even as he sputtered blood. "She's already lost me! How much more is she to endure at your hands? Own up! Apologize!"
"Never." Diggle shook his head as it bobbed. He was, obviously, disoriented. Blood poured from his nose. His left eye was swollen. Still, he managed to smirk. "Don't you see? I can give her this. I can give her you. -I don't want her forgiveness. I want her to be happy."
"Murdering Malfoy won't make her happy. I'm not real." Ron's face flared red, and his eyes watered. "I'm not real…" His voice quivered. "You want her happiness? How about you ask her what she wants for a change! You can't make her decisions for her!" He sniffled, angry and solemn all at once. "If she doesn't bring me back, that's her choice! It isn't yours to make for her! You shouldn't force the people you love into doing things because it makes you feel less guilty! Love is giving the person you care about a choice and accepting whatever they decide!" He drew his fist back, ready for another blow, but caught himself as Diggle winced beneath him. "Love is letting them go, even when you know it'll break your heart."
Hermione swiped at the free flowing tears down her face. "Ron…"
"You care about Hermione? You want to make it up to her? Look at me! Own up to the fact you took that choice away from her! Look me right in the eyes and admit you made a mistake by killing me! Admit that you never really loved her! Admit you're worthless, and a murderer, and own up to what you did-" He pulled his fist back.
"-I admit it, alright!?" Diggle threw his hands up. "I took that choice away! But you should see the way her life turned out! She moved on from you, Weasley! And with the man who developed the weapon which killed you, no less!"
The tension in the air hung so thick one would think it would suffocate all those in attendance. Very slowly, Ron's eyes trailed up to find Hermione, who couldn't remember how to breathe.
"Malfoy created that box?" He scowled. "When… when were you gonna tell me, Mione?" His face resonated with betrayal.
Her wand quivered in her fingers, gripping it so tightly she ran the risk of snapping it. "It isn't as simple as that, Ron. Draco didn't create it to explode. Only to drain the power. -He holds himself accountable every day for his transgressions."
"As he should," Diggle interrupted, catching Ron's attention. "You really want to send her back to marry the man who aided in your untimely demise?"
Ron faltered, releasing Diggle's collar and sending his head crashing into the floor. For a moment, it looked as if all hope was lost. Ron's eyes drifted over to the stiffened Malfoy across the floor, hurt etched in eyes. Then he looked to Hermione, licking his dry lips. "Why? How… can you forgive him?"
"You wouldn't blame Ollivander for Fred's death because he created the wand which caused it, would you?" she whispered. "Ron, Draco's in trouble. Please." She knew she walked a tightrope, but she had to try. "I can't lose him, too."
His face softened, and, with a heavy sigh, he nodded. "Okay." He pried himself up off of Diggle, yanked him up by the broken arm, and forced him on his knees. "Look at her."
"You're not going to, honestly, subject me to this, are you?"
Ron fisted Diggle's hair and turned his head to Hermione. "Look. At. Her."
Diggle's emerald eyes turned to Hermione.
"Admit your mistakes to her. Mean it. If you care about her... you'll do it. Otherwise, you're no better than the man who killed your father."
Ron smiled sadly, meeting her stare.
"I never told you how beautiful you always were to me. Or… how I always love the way you chew on your lip when you're thinking. Or even bossing me around." He laughed, a single tear falling down his face. "I loved every moment, Hermione." He sniffled into the back of his hand. "Bloody Hell… I'm gonna miss the Hell out of you."
Hermione laughed between tears. "I miss you. Always."
"I lov-"
And then, he wasn't there.
Hermione blinked, and the medical store was gone; in it's place: a white, vast nothing. The only other thing in this bleak eternity was Greg Diggle staring at her with wide-eyes. He said nothing for a time. "Have I…" He stared down at his hands. His arm was no longer broken. He wore the same robes from before the mirror. "Is it true? I've never thought myself… like him." He pinched his eyes shut tight. "I remember the pain the night I watched my father slip through my fingers. How devastated… how unearthed…"
And then, there were tears.
Greg Diggle was crying, softly, prying his eyes open to look at her. "I never once considered how I put you through that same pain. I… I see it now. Oh God… what have I done?" He fell on his knees, eyes shut tight and his head in his hands. He rocked forward and backward, lost in his own little world. "Sorry…" he choked out. "I'm… I'm so sorry…" His hands came out, and he fell forward at Hermione's feet. "I'm no better than him, am I, Hermione? I'm no better than my father's murderer…"
So many thoughts drifted around her head, each one begging to be analyzed for hours on end. But she ignored all of them, except for the one, obvious deduction: Greg Diggle was broken. There was a guilt in feeling satisfied for it, but it was far outweighed by the moment of triumph. She extended a slender arm and placed a gentle hand on Diggle's head. "Swear your allegiance to me. Promise to keep Draco safe, no matter the cost. This is how you will prove yourself in my eyes."
"I-I promise." Diggle peered up at her through reddened eyes. "You have my word."
"I'll need more than your word, Greg." She offered out her hand. "I'll need your vow. Your Unbreakable Vow."
Draco's heart pounded as they stepped out of Weasley's vault and headed back towards the cart, sword in hand. Harry insisted he didn't want to carry it, and Draco agreed he wouldn't mind taking on the responsibility. Tonklin eyed the sword with great interest as the two wizards bundled inside the cart, but said nothing as he started up the vessel with a bit of magic and set a course back the way they came.
As they neared the corner they were to meet Hermione and Diggle, his stomach twisted. What if things hadn't gone according to plan? What if Hermione were in danger? He gripped the sword tighter, making sure he dare not touch the stone, though it was tempting.
His heart slammed wildly in his throat as they turned the roundabout, and he released a sigh of relief. There, standing next to a disheveled, but otherwise healthy-looking Diggle (disguised once again as Dean), was the love of his life. She wore a determined smile on her face and held a thick, familiar book tucked under her arm.
"Feeling better?" asked Harry as the cart came to a stop.
"That depends on your definition of better," muttered Diggle, swooping into the box first to take a seat next to the Lead Auror. Hermione approached slower, her gaze only on Draco, causing his stomach to knot in the loveliest of ways. He offered a hand out to her, and she took it, her touch warm and inviting.
"How are you?" he asked quietly.
A single tear escaped her eye as she took a seat and wiped it away. "I'll be alright." She touched her fingers to her lips and smiled, thoughtful. "I'm going to be better than alright." Her hand squeezed his. "I have you."
"Damn right you do," he whispered into her ear. "I'm not going anywhere. You have my word."
"I'm holding you to that. You're to stay alive, you hear me?"
"Are you kidding me? And sully up my perfect face by becoming a corpse? Don't be daft." He smirked, whispering, "I'm here. Always and forever. No matter... " He glanced down at the sword, and then the book. Now, there was nothing stopping the inevitable. Nothing to stop Weasley from returning and shattering Draco's perfect world. "No matter what choice you make when this is all over."
To Draco's relief, not a word was said the rest of the way to the entrance. In fact, no one spoke a word until they stood back on the streets of Diagon Alley. It was Potter, who, after cloaking the sword with a spell, finally broke the silence.
"Well," he said, looking around to the group, "Who's ready to kick some Malfoy arse?"
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How To Train Your Auror 2: Family Ties