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How To Train Your Auror	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 7512 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I will not make a profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 27
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A SUPER SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO MY FRIEND WAYMAY who helped me come up with the next Hell-hound scene in this chapter. She and I are in the middle of writing a cool Dramione that you should pick up once it's out. It is so choice. LOL Thanks WayMay. :)
Gonna go ahead and say a thank you to MissPancake for editing! Damn time zones... half way across the world, but friends are still amazing. And MissPancake is just that.
For this next chapter, YOU MUST listen to Panic! At The Disco's "Emperor's New Clothes" because this is the best way to describe Cane/Diggle in a nutshell. This has been playing on repeat for so many chapters as I dropped Easter Eggs. PLEASE give it a listen, or better yet check out the YouTube video!
Welcome to the end of eras
Ice has melted back to life
Done my time and served my sentence
Dress me up and watch me die
If it feels good, tastes good
It must be mine
Dynasty decapitated
You just might see a ghost tonight
And if you don't know, now you know
I'm taking back the crown
I'm all dressed up and naked
I see what's mine and take it
"Emperor's New Clothes" by Panic! At The Disco
Diggle began to pace the hall, his wand trained on Draco as he spoke. "I had really hoped you'd figured it out sooner. Not that I didn't enjoy this little game we've been playing; hiding in plain sight in front of you, pushing you, encouraging you. Isn't it fitting that I would be the one to train you up to become an Auror? I've been training you for years, and then here you fall right back into my lap. But I'm sorry to say you failed your final trial. All of the pieces were laid right out in front of you, but you couldn't see them clearly." He clicked his tongue. "Such a pity."
"Why…" Draco felt his throat tighten, and his voice went up an octave. "Why put on the mask?"
"Simple. As second in command of the Auror Division, I couldn't very well be seen skulking around Knockturn Alley and the like. Or associating myself with someone as… demeaning as yourself." He smirked. "Do you like the name? Bastian Cane. Would you like to know where I got it from?"
Not really, Draco thought. "I suppose you're going to tell me."
"Cane comes from my favorite treat growing up as a boy - my mother would make these festive holiday peppermint muffins with bits of candy-canes sprinkled on top. She was a baker you see. Very kind woman. Always put others before herself. And she was a muggle. Bastian - well, I thought Harry might figure that one out, but he obviously didn't do his research enough. My father. His name was Douglas B. Diggle. Care to take a guess what the B stands for?"
"Bitch?" Draco smirked.
Cane broke into a faint laugh. "I walked right into that one." The laughing stopped. "Do you want to know why Bastian Cane was so significant for me, Draco Malfoy? Why I'm telling you in front of all these witnesses?" He gestured to the glassy eyed Ministry officials; at the same time their hands drew down one inch closer to their boxes. Draco jolted, but when he saw that they weren't actually going to touch the Pandora Boxes, he relaxed his shoulders. "It all comes back to you, Draco. Every single bit of it."
"Me?" Draco scoffed. "I've got nothing to do with your parents."
"Quite on the contrary. Your path and mine have been intertwined for quite a while." Diggle lowered his wand momentarily, pensive. "Did Hermione ever tell you what my father did? His profession? He was a muggle born to a wizard father. So, being a man who grew up around magic but without any himself, he acted as a liaison between the muggle Prime Minister and the Minister of Magic. And he was brilliant at his job. So brilliant, in fact, that when the time of War was upon us, he was taken into possession by a couple of rowdy Death Eaters searching for information." His voice grew quiet. "He was left bleeding in the streets to die. And in fact he did, two hours later in the hospital. The doctors couldn't figure out how he had sustained so much internal damage. 'It was like he was dropped from a five story roof' they'd said. But my Father was found on the side of a country road, miles away from any building. I was already out of Hogwarts then. Was an Auror, same as yourself. So I went to digging through evidence. And do you know what I found? A single hair that didn't belong to my father on his robes. So I conjured up a Polyjuice potion and put the hair in. When I stared back in the mirror, your father's eyes stared back at me."
It was as if the proverbial rug had been pulled out from beneath Draco's feet. "My father wouldn't…" But he stopped himself, because he knew the next words would be a lie. Lucius Malfoy, in all of his splendor, had done many a terrible thing in his day. There was no doubt in Draco's mind that Gregory Diggle spoke the cold, hard truth.
"Yes, he would." Diggle raised his wand again, flexing the muscles in his neck from side to side. "Do you know what it's like, Draco? To go home to your mother and have to explain a war she could barely comprehend? To tell her that her husband, my father, died simply because he was deemed unworthy by Pureblood ideology? Do you know what they carved into his arm, Draco?"
Draco stood as silent as the grave.
"Squib." Diggle spat the word. "Can you believe that? As if tossing him around until they'd broken nearly every bone in his back wasn't enough! They had to find a way to demean him even more." He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "And then The Battle of Hogwarts came. So many lost their lives. So many muggle born children, simply because of their heritage. But not you, eh, Malfoy? No, you stayed safe and tight against your mother's breast. All of you Purebloods cowering in fear when you realised you had chosen the wrong side. But it was too late… too late…" His eyes shot back open, but they stayed that frightening shade of black. His pupils could hardly be seen beneath the darkness of his irises. "That's when I knew the world needed to change. And I thought I could do that here, through the Ministry. But then Potter came along…" He trailed his eyes over to the limp Harry Potter, who's breathing was shallow. "I used to look up to him. The boy who lived… what title! And then he came here. He rose up in the ranks and surpassed me. Do you know how long I worked - how hard I worked for the job that was never given to me? Do you know what that's like to be second best to someone who you clearly outrank in every way?"
Yes, Draco did know that. He knew exactly what Diggle felt. It was that same feeling he had gotten every time Hermione Granger had bested him in school or life in general. That envy was toxic. It could consume the soul if left unchecked. "Oh, boo hoo. You think you're the only one who lost someone in the War?" Draco scrunched his face up. "We all lost someone! We all lost a piece of ourselves!" His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and he grew quieter. "So why even seek me out, hmm? If my Father killed yours, why even come to me that night in the tavern?"
"Because you were the only one with the knowledge to unlock the secrets of the stone. And because I knew that your selfish heart couldn't resist doing something that would benefit you. You're all the same. Every single one of you Pureblood oafs."
"You're wrong." Draco tried to reason with him. "Astoria Greengrass. Take her as an example. She's never once harbored any ill will towards mixed blood. She was better than me. She taught me to think differently."
"An apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and her father was a Pureblood snob."
"And what do you think you're doing? Lumping her into a category with me? You're doing the same thing, Diggle. Don't you see that?"
Diggle's eyes flickered back to their emerald green. "You're very good with words, Draco. I'll give you that much. You know how to bend and shape them to always put yourself in a more flattering light. Is that how you managed to fool Hermione, I wonder?"
At the mention of Hermione, Draco grew very still. "I want to see her."
"You will." Diggle nodded. "But first, I'm going to need some information from that pretty little mind of yours."
"Piss off."
"Eloquent." Diggle looked down to his wand and smirked. "Why am I even bothering with this? It's not like I really need it." He tossed the wand behind him and made a beckoning gesture with his finger. "Come here, Draco." Draco's back felt like it was being pushed by an invisible wall that thrust him forward until he was only a mere five feet from Greg. "That's better. I want to have a good view of you when I tell you."
Draco crossed his arms and quirked an eyebrow, masking his fear. "Tell me what?"
"That I have your son."
'Stay here.' Malfoy gave him a stern look. 'Get help.'
Dean watched Draco hand himself over to Greg, but he could still hardly believe this was happening. Greg and Dean had just gone to karaoke a month ago! They had sung 'Supermassive Black Hole' together! Muse! Nobody just abandoned a friendship like that… it was all a bit hard to stomach that your best mate could be a cold-blooded murderer.
He tried to think of a way to get help. The second set of elevators were set up on the opposite end of the Ministry Entrance Hall – they might be able to get a floo working with any luck. But… he'd have to think of a Hell of a distraction. Hell… heh. Yeah, that would do.
He crouched lower, down to all fours, and peered around the edge of the receptions desk. 'Come on, Malfoy. Get his back to me for a moment.' Diggle was preoccupied with Draco, but someone noticed Dean's presence. Harry's green eyes met Dean's, and he even though they were half lidded and full of pain, he knew exactly what Dean needed. He nodded once to him, and Dean nodded back.
"Haven't quite figured it out yet?"
Draco shifted on his feet. "Figure out what?"
"Draco. I'm hurt."
Harry struggled to try to stand as he shouted, "M-Malfoy! The tattoo. Diggle's got-"
Greg turned his head, and it was just enough of a moment for him to sprint to the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry crumple to a pile. It took everything in Dean not to turn back and help, but he fought the Gryffindor in him and stayed on task. The sorting hat had told him he would have done well in Ravenclaw. Dean had never quite been sure about that. It was hard to keep your head when your loyalty pulled your heart elsewhere.
Dean reached the door, jerked it open, and shut it as quietly as he could. He leaned against the back of it, his heart pounding in his chest as he prayed over and over again that he hadn't been seen. A moment passed, and when he was thoroughly convinced that no one was going to come barging through that door behind him, he gave out a breath of relief and whispered, "Lumos." He wobbled over the support beam blocking him from the rest of the room and began to unbutton his robes. It was much too hot and much too late to be worrying about Ministry regulations. He sluffed the robes off of his shoulders and then got an idea. Carefully, he draped them over his arm and began to quietly make his way to the opposite door, where the Hell-hound would surely be waiting for him. His foot scuttled a small boulder, and the sound echoed.
Vicious growling, scraping, and dual-toned barks came from the hallway door. Dean could hear the thick paws scratching wildly, anxious for a bit of flesh. "Blimey… I suddenly regret never calling back Luna for that date three years ago…" If he got out of here, he might just do that. Raising his wand, he began to strip down his warding. Hands shaking, he stowed away his wand (for the moment), and pulled open his robes like a muleta. "I've always wanted to bullfight…"
The Hell-hound bashed against the door, bowing it out before it popped back into place. The wood wouldn't hold up long. Dean gulped, thankful that his lumos spell was still glowing from the tip of his wand in his back pocket, and readied his stance. "Here puppy. Nice puppy… Nice…"
The door burst open, and red gleaming eyes glowed heavily in the threshold. Dean stood his ground, robes off to his side, and the sheer terrifying thrill made his palms sweaty. He didn't dare move, but settled on staring into the Hell-hound's eyes. "Hey, boy." The dog growled. "Girl? Nice girl, then? Look, I know you probably don't understand what I'm saying, but my friends are in an awful lot of trouble."
The Hell-hound barked.
"Yeah? Interesting." Dean began to back up slowly, waving the robes. The hound's red eyes stared intently at the billowing piece of cloth and moved forward at the same pace. "Good girl… easy now… just a bit further…"
Hermione's eyes shifted over the runes as she ran her fingers lightly over the edges of the pages. The Gray Magic hummed against her own body's magical core, shaking it like ripples in a pond. She could feel it attempting to push her own magical essence out of her soul to make room. Every time it beat against her soul, she could see the runes a bit clearer, as if they were blurry before. They made much more sense now, and soon she'd be able to read them entirely.
"Miss Granger?" Astoria called off to the side, but her voice sounded distant in Hermione's ears. "Shall I throw a shoe at you now?"
"Not yet," she sighed anxiously, concentrating. "I'm getting something."
"Yes. A case of the nosebleeds, I'd say."
"What?" Hermione reached up to her nose and felt warm liquid. When she brought her fingertips to her eye line, she saw crimson. "That's not good." She wiped at the blood with the back of her sleeve, but a drop fell from her nose and dripped onto the page she was reading. Her eyesight literally rippled as the runes became readable, though she wasn't entirely sure what language they were or how she could read them in the first place. It was as if the book was trying to speak to her, but it had needed blood to bind her mind to it. Yes… that must be it. She sniffled, making sure there was no more blood, and brought the book up to her face. "I can read it."
"What does it say?" Astoria asked anxiously.
"Hold on. It's still new to me…" Hermione squinted her eyes. "This sort of magic… it's all wonky. It's scattered and sporadic."
"Details, Hermione, details!"
"I'm getting there…" She turned the pages back to the first and yawned. This Gray Magic was rather tiring. "It says in the days before creation, there were three sorts of magic. The light, the dark, and the gray. The light was said to bring prosperity and life. It is what sparked creation. And then the darkness came, and with it came death, destruction, and folly. The Gray Magic served as a barrier between the light and the dark. With it came imagination, choices, and consequences."
"Riveting."
"Actually, it is." Hermione shot her head up and glanced over at Astoria and a sleeping Scorpius in her arms. "Basically, Gray Magic is Magic that requires a price. It will not work for you unless you work for it. It must be why I could read the words after my blood got on the book. It will basically do anything you will it to, with simply a thought, so long as it receives payment first."
"Great. So how does that help us get out of here?"
"Let me look." Hermione flipped through the pages, scanning quickly over the runes. "In order to master Grey Magic, one must bind it to some magical object, and then feed the gray magic periodically. The more power you choose to use, the more you must pay the toll." Hermione slammed the book shut and closed her eyes in concentration.
The Pandora Stone. That must have been what Cane used to bind his Gray Magic to. Something that stripped magic would be ideal for a hungry magic such as the Gray. It could feed it unlimited power without any ill effect to the wielder.
"I need…" She glanced around the room. "I need…." Oh, she didn't have time for this! She ripped open the book and said to it, "I need to break this spell Diggle has over me. What can I offer as payment?"
The book shuddered in her hands and three runes glowed back at her.
'What have you?'
Hermione bit down on her lower lip. "Knowledge. I have a vast amount of knowledge. You're welcome to it. Any and all of it. As much knowledge as there are books in this room, and then some. Knowledge is power, as my Dad always says…"
The book quivered in her fingers. New runes shimmered.
'The Gray accepts.'
The magic that had been pushing at her soul suddenly dug in like vice claws, piercing her soul and gripping tight. It hurt at first, but then it began to ooze over her soul, coaxing it, numbing it until all she could feel was the vibrations of it rattling through her limbs and mind. She could feel it sifting through her thoughts, taking bits of information of her knowledge on magic, on life, on love. It was particularly interested in that, and it peeled back image after image of Harry, Ginny, Neville, and Ron. Her parents. Ron and her dancing in their home. Ron fumbling as he dropped the groceries. The first time she had ever made love, pressed under Ron's body, lips crashing together. It felt her loss of him. She could almost sense the Gray Magic's remorse. And then it settled on Draco, and it became conflicted.
"Diggle's used you against him, I know," she said, her eyes closed. "I want to protect him. I want to protect them all."
The Gray Magic in her purred. It stayed set on Draco's image in her head, observing him, pressing further into her memories of him. It raked over his childish taunts and his haughty smirk. It brushed against the very fabric of Hermione's feelings for him and then concentrated on his Mark. It careened back, and Hermione felt it trying to retract itself. This Gray Magic… it was so alive. Like a timid kitten with unlimited capabilities, taking on the traits of whomever willed it.
"But even you have your limits, don't you?" she said slowly, pressing her hand against the book. "You can only work within the magic you are given. You're an amplifier of the dark and the light."
Something hard smacked Hermione in the side of the head, enough to make her wince and open her eyes. Astoria had thrown a book at her. "What?" she said when Hermione glowered. "You said I could if I thought you were in too deep."
She sighed. "I was fine, Astoria."
The Gray Magic danced within her, and the books on the shelves began to rattle. 'No.' She told it. 'I'm fine.' The books ceased their movements.
"Doesn't seem fine to me," Astoria muttered.
"Look," Hermione replied, rising from her spot on the floor with the book. "Do you want to get out of here or not?"
"Oh, yes please." Astoria slipped Scorpius over her shoulder with one arm while gathering the diaper bag with the other. "Are you sure you're not going to… you know… off me?"
"I'm fairly certain." Hermione concentrated on the fireplace and thought about a floo portal within it. The Gray Magic tickled at her fingertips, and she snapped them; the flames shot up powerfully in the hearth, then snuffed out. She could feel it. She'd done it. She'd created a floo network out of sheer will. "This… this is powerful stuff." She nodded. "Well, go on."
"What? Where are you going?"
"I've got to find a way to get Draco out of the holding cells and find Diggle."
They Gray Magic jumped inside of her as if to answer. Images swept through her mind. It showed her Harry, standing in front of a camera. The Ministry in shambles. Draco and Dean crawling around in the darkness. She saw Diggle, and then Cane, and then Diggle again. The Gray Magic was screaming at her, but she couldn't understand what it was trying to say.
"Oh my God…" she whispered, meeting eyes once more with Astoria. "The Ministry's been under attack."
"And Draco?"
"He's… I'm not sure. He's out of lockdown, but I don't know much more than that." She tried to concentrate, but the Gray would show her no more. "You've got to go. Take Scorpius to Ginny's. You'll both be safe with her."
"I'm not leaving you to go fight off some crazed loon by yourself."
"Astoria - Scorpius needs his mother. Don't deny him that." The Gray pushed its way into her tongue, and her next words glazed like honey. "Take Scorpius to Ginny's."
"I'll take Scorpius to Ginny's." Astoria agreed mildly. She grabbed up some floo powder from the mantle, stepped into the fireplace, and was gone with a flash of green fire. Hermione, feeling quite triumphant with herself, brought one hand up into the air and high fived it with the other. "Way to go, me!" She caught herself, blushed, and waved her hand over the book to shrink it. After she placed it in her back pocket, she swallowed hard at the impossible choice of where to go first, and who to ask for help.
"-I have your son," Diggle said, his emerald eyes mirroring the smirk on his lips. Draco felt his heart sink low into his stomach.
"You lie."
"Do I?" Gregory Diggle flexed his hand and reached out to press one single finger to Draco's temple. "Tell me, Draco. Is the chance of my lying worth the risk of your son's life?"
Draco's breath caught. There were only three things in this world more precious to Draco than himself: Hermione Granger, Astoria Greengrass, and Scorpius Malfoy. Most of all, Scorpius. There was nothing in this entire world more precious than that.
"Why do you want what's in my head so badly? Why do you want the capability of wiping out magic at a city's range? What good would that accomplish?"
"I thought the answer was quite obvious." Diggle shrugged. "You can't threaten an entire population without having something to hold over their heads. The wizarding world can either choose to come clean to the muggles and learn to live peacefully, out in the open with them, or they can lose their magic all together."
"You're talking about mass magical genocide."
"No one will die," Diggle shrugged. "They'll all just be put on the same playing field. And those who wish to keep their magic will learn their ways in the muggle world. To appreciate muggles. To learn from them."
"And you'd put an innocent child in harm's way to accomplish this?"
"How innocent could he be? He's a Malfoy."
The door to the copy room burst open. "MALFOY! RUN!"
Dean came scrambling out, being chased by – was that his robes? Were his robes chasing him? No, Draco thought in a split second as he saw the red eyes underneath the billowing navy robes. He glanced back at Diggle, who in a moment of panic shouted and backed away. The eyes fixed on him, and Dean's robes (aka the Hell-hound) came bounding at Diggle in a mix of barks and growls. Draco saw his opportunity and dove for Diggle's wand, shouting, "Dean! Get Potter!"
"On it!"
Together, they scrambled away from Diggle and the hound and over to the limp body of Harry. Dean lifted his body with a quick levicorpus jinx, and with Harry in tow, dragged him flying through the air by his ankles towards the second set of elevators. Draco threw a protego spell over them and turned back to watch Diggle scramble backwards.
"Enough!" Greg raised his hand and the Hell-hound screeched. There was the sound of crunching bone, and then the pile of robes lay stationary on the floor. Draco could still hear the Hell-hound's painful whimpers as Diggle rose to his feet.
"Draco! Come on!" Dean shouted at him. Draco took off at once, sprinting across the Entrance Hall as the elevator doors began to close. Gotta make it… He picked up his pace and slid across the floor like he was sliding for home plate. He barely made it through before the doors slammed shut. Dean threw up a quick protection spell, and soon all that could be heard was the slamming of their hearts in their ears as the elevator began its ascension.
Gregory Diggle chuckled, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his sleeve. "Let the games begin."
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How To Train Your Auror