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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
- 28
- 29
- 30
My hat goes off to waymay, who stayed up and helped me proof this chapter. She's so kind, and such an inspiration.
~A.
Lift me up on my honor
Take me over this spell
Get this weight off my shoulders
I've carried it well
Loose these shackles of pressure
Shake me out of these chains
Lead me not to temptation
Hold my hand harder
Ease my mind
Roll down the smoke screen
And open the sky
Let me fly
Man I need a release from
This troublesome mind
Fix my feet when they're stumbling
And well you know it hurts sometimes
You know it's gonna bleed sometimes
"Sweet Talk" by The Killers
Half a bottle of firewhiskey into Hermione's recounting of her time in the mirror, and Draco could already feel the whisper of alcohol's breath against the back of his neck, beckoning him to drown his depressing sorrows. It stung like bees down Draco's spine as he listened to her tell of Ron Weasley's act of heroism. The kissing… well, that was something else entirely. Something he would stew about six ways till Sunday. But it was her retelling of Weasley's final words which had Draco knocking back his whiskey and staring intently at his bride-to-be.
Even a mirror image of Weasley knew what love was. It was about sacrificing one's own happiness for those they loved. Draco knew all about that. The stone and book sat not five feet away from them on top of the dresser.
When she finished, Draco nodded once, poured himself another glass, and downed the whole thing in one go.
"Say something," she whispered.
"Fuck."
His lips curled up at her frown.
"I was hoping for a bit more than an explicit."
"You don't know me at all then."
"Draco-"
"-Hermione, I don't know what you'd have me say." He noticed how she barely touched her drink. "Even in death, Weasley trumps me five to one. I'm never going to be able to compete with him."
"He's dead."
"But he won't be." Draco glanced to the nightstand. "We both know it-"
"Draco-"
"-It's just a matter of time-"
"Draco!"
"No, bugger it, Hermione! We're talking about this!" He slammed his glass down on the floor and glared at her. "I want to be mad at you. I want to be so fucking mad at you for kissing some mirrored version of your dead husband, but I can't. Because I know what he meant to you. I know if it weren't for my doings, you'd still have him."
"You don't know that."
"The Hell I don't. I'm so sick of everyone excusing me for my transgressions. Not just you -Potter, Dean, Astoria. All of you learned to forgive me so easily -covered up my involvement in some psychopath's estrangement because you all feel some sick sense of loyalty to me. But I won't have it. You can't always look the other way and pretend I didn't do the things I did, Hermione. I thought, for a long time, I could… that I could imagine a life like this." He shook his head. "My dragons are finally coming to roost. If I die tomorrow-"
"-You're not going to die. You hear me? You're not. You promised." A tear slipped down her cheek. "You promised me you were too stubborn to die."
"I might not have a say in the matter come morning, love." He threw her a cold smirk. "And if it happens, I need you to promise me something."
She wiped her tear and sniffled into her sleeve. "I won't promise you anything, because you're not dying."
"Oh, and you honestly think Diggle's going to make sure I don't bite the dust?"
"The bastard is self-preserving. I'm counting on it."
"Stop it." He shook a finger at her. "Stop trying to protect me. I'm not a little boy. I'm a grown man."
"A man with a death warrant."
"Yes! And I made the choice! -Hermione." He lowered his voice, trying to calm his nerves. "You know I love you. But I've been giving this some thought -quite a lot of thought, actually."
"Giving what thought?"
"My death, of course." His eyes were full of sadness. It literally oozed out of every pore. "Diggle might come through, he might not. But he won't stop it, if my time comes. I've done a lot of bad things. I've harmed too many people, and I can't take back what I've done. But if I die, Hermione, you aren't to bring me back."
She stared evenly at him, though the corner of her lip twitched ever so slightly. "Preposterous."
Frustrated, Draco rubbed at the stubble on his cheek and attempted a new way of approaching it. "Out of the two of us… if you were given the chance to bring one of us back… it should be him, Hermione."
"Ron's dead. He's been dead for years." She dipped her head low, staring at the floor. "I love you."
"But out of the two of us… you were never meant to be mine." He cleared his throat, feeling nervousness spread through his system. No, he needed to say it, damn it. Nerves be damned. "Believe me. I want to be alive. But when this is all over, you're going to need to come to a decision. And if I'm dead, I don't want you to have to decide anymore. If I die, that's it. I'll have atoned for my sins. Bringing me back, and not Weasley, wouldn't be fair."
"And what of Scorpius? And Astoria? Dean? Harry? Your mother? What would you have me tell them, Draco?"
"That I didn't want to come back," he replied. "You tell them the truth."
"This isn't fair!" she shouted. "You're resigning yourself to die!"
"I'm facing facts! It's time you started to as well! Merlin's beard, Hermione! I'm not a Saint! I've done terrible things! If anyone deserves a second chance, it isn't me." He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to ease his breathing. "It's Weasley."
"And if you live, Draco? What will happen then?"
"Then… I'll respect whatever decision you come to. It's what I expect of you, after all." He made a point to narrow his eyes and pierce them directly into her soul, standing his ground. "Weasley is dead. Do I think it's unnatural to bring someone back from that? Of course, I do. But do I understand why you'd want to? Hell yes. And when it comes down to the line, I'll gladly step aside to make you happy."
"You make me happy," she insisted, scooting her way across the floor until her knees touched his. Then, she placed a gentle hand on his leg. "I love you, Draco. I'm not settling for you, for Merlin's sake. I fell in love with you because, despite your flaws… the potential for your soul is astounding." She stared gently into his eyes. "Yes, you've done bad in your life, but haven't we all? That first day we practiced your Patronus, do you remember how many tries it took you? Two. Two tries. Not even Harry accomplished something like that. -There's so much good in you, Draco. I see it. You told me you wanted to become an Auror to build a name for your son. Don't you see what you've accomplished?"
"None of it would have been possible if you and Potter didn't cover up my transgressions to the world," Draco grumbled, a flush washing over his cheeks.
"We did it because everyone deserves a second chance."
"Even Diggle?"
She frowned. "That's different."
"No, love. It isn't." He leaned forward, drawing their faces closer together. "You know I love you. You know I'd give anything to make you smile." He reached over and traced her cheek with his thumb. "But given the choice of two men, I'd rather you take the one who deserves you."
"You deserve me. I deserve you. We deserve to be happy -together."
He smiled, sad. "You know I want to believe that. But things aren't always as simple as that, are they? I'll promise you this: I promise to try to stay alive, if you promise not to bring me back, should I fail. Can you do that for me? Please?"
He listened to her jagged breathing, watched as tears fell down her cheeks. He hated making her cry, but he was mighty good at it.
"You're impossible, you know," she whispered.
He leaned forward a bit more and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "I know. You wouldn't have me any other way, though, would you?" And then he pulled her against him, on the floor, and held her, the bottle of firewhiskey long forgotten about. Tomorrow, they would face terrible hardships. Tonight, all that mattered was her breath against his neck and her heartbeat. As long as she was alive, it was enough for him. As long as everyone he loved was safe, he would be fine, come what may.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
Auror Jameson stepped through the Floo first, wand brandished as he took in the grand den of the Malfoy Manor, determining its safety. No grey kitten loomed over the sofa, but he would need to make a sweep of the grounds to assess the wards and double check. The fireplace whooshed with life behind him, and out bounded Scorpius, with his mother in tow.
"Mummy, again! Do again!"
"No, sweetie," she said, a hint of aggravation in her tone, "Not again, I'm afraid."
"Awww…" Scorpius released his mother's hand and ran over to Jameson. "You take me?"
A small swell of pride filled Theodore's chest, and he exchanged warm glances with Astoria before saying to the boy, "Perhaps once I'm done with my rounds."
"What wounds?"
"Rounds, Scorpius. I need to check your home for…" He thought of how best to put it. "-for any silly things that shouldn't be here."
"Ooh! I help! I help!"
"No. You need a bath," Astoria said, pointing up to the staircase. "And some supper, and then off to bed with you. -I really can't believe we spent all of our day in the Auror Division. I never was this near invested with the Ministry when I was married to your father! Now, up you get. Go find some bath toys from your room. I'll meet you up there shortly."
"Okay, Mummy." Scorpius charged up the staircase with inhuman speed. Toddlers had far too much energy, Theodore noted thoughtfully. When Scorpius was out of sight, Astoria walked directly up to Theodore and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You're simply wonderful with him. Thank you."
Theodore felt the familiar crawl of blush spread across his cheeks. He was so unaccustomed to the sensation, but lately, in Astoria's presence, it's all he ever seemed to do. He swallowed a thick lump in his throat, his mouth suddenly dry. "Of course."
"Would you care for some dinner? I can have the elves prepare something."
"Actually… would you mind if I cooked?" Theodore offered.
"Let me get this straight. You're handsome. Intelligent. Gentle. Impressive with a wand. And you cook?"
He blinked, not getting the message. "Yes. I suppose so."
"How is it a witch hasn't snatched you up already?"
Theodore gave a gentle smile, feeling a pang of sadness in his heart. "Another story for another time, I'm afraid. -I'll see to the house and then begin preparing dinner." Something inside of him took control, and he found his hand at her cheek, stroking down the ivory skin with tenderness. "I'm very pleased I was assigned to you, Miss Greengrass."
Astoria's green eyes glistened back at him, and she brushed her lips against his palm, sending an electric current up his spine. "As am I, Auror Jameson."
"Would you care for more, Auror Thomas?" Narcissa offered, holding out a bowl of roasted garlic potatoes. Dean, leaned back in his chair, unhooked the button of his pants and cast his hands up, shaking his head.
"Couldn't possibly, Missus Malfoy. Three helpings is my limit, I'm afraid." He gave a lopsided grin and patted his stomach. "You're a bloody brilliant cook. I'm surprised Draco wasn't the size of a car in school."
"A… car?"
"Er… muggle device. For travel." Dean attempted to sit upright, but his stomach was so full he found himself back against the splat of his chair, so he resigned himself to it. "Harry and Ron flew one to school our second year."
"Yes, it was all over the papers," Lucius replied curtly, so disinterested in the conversation one might think him asleep if his eyes weren't already open. "Cissy, I'm not feeling my best. I think I will retire for the evening."
"Let me get you your tea, then," she offered.
"No. I'm fine." Lucius coughed, proving to the table he was, most certainly, not fine. Still, he ignored the concerned look from his wife and stood, reaching for his cane. He allowed her to feed him a few loving pecks on the cheek and lips before he left the dining room without another word, heading towards the staircase of their chateau.
Dean watched as Narcissa sighed and began to gather the plates. She didn't even bother to use magic, so far gone in her thoughts. So, Dean did what he'd always done best; he used humor to lighten the mood.
"Are all Malfoy men born with a wand up their bum, or is that a right of passage?"
"A Malfoy man is, unfortunately, shaped into his cool demeanor. It was that way with Draco as it was with Lucius. However, I do hope our sweet Scorpius has enough loving individuals in his life to prevent said wand from going up said bottom." She flashed a cheeky smirk and handed her plates to a nearby house elf. "Tell me about him. My grandson."
"Scorpius? Well, he's a good kid, I can say that much," said Dean as Narcissa took her seat back across from him. "Sometimes spoiled, but not the way I imagine Draco was."
Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "You assume Draco to be spoiled as a child?"
"Well… wasn't he?"
She chirped in laughter, giving way her daunting persona. "Despite my best efforts, yes. Lucius would let that boy want for nothing."
"Though it seems like now the things he wants, money could never buy him."
"You speak of our approval on Miss Granger."
Dean nodded. "If he gets out of Azkaban, he's marrying that witch. Not a damn thing anyone says or does could get in the way of that. But I know it'd mean the world to him if you supported it."
Narcissa sighed, bringing her stemmed wine glass to her lips to sip from the burgundy liquid. "Contrary to what you think you know about my husband and I, I assure you, Draco has my full approval."
"He does?"
"Of course he does. I've spent the better part of ten years trying to win my son's affection's back to no avail. That he should find happiness can only bring about my own. Lucius, on the other hand…" Her eyes trailed to the doorway. "When I met him, we were children. Though he tried to carry his father's spirit about him, I knew better. He always had the capacity for good in him. But his father snuffed it out."
"How does one go about making a xenophobic arsehole?" Dean asked politely. "And why would a nice lady such as yourself marry him?"
"You're not very subtle."
"Wasn't trying to be."
They glared each other down, assessing one another. Finally, Narcissa gave in. "Abraxas Malfoy was a man of many hats. Patriarch. Political Influence. Pureblood Pride. He expected nothing less than perfection, so he married Winifred, a beauty of perfection but with sawdust in her head. Lucius's only substantial influence in his life was his father, who carved out any hope for Lucius's humanity and replaced it with a longing for acceptance. It is, after all, why he asked for my hand in the first place."
Dean blinked, processing her words. Then he furrowed his brow. "Come again, Missus Malfoy? Are you telling me your husband didn't marry you for love?"
"Oh, no. I dare say he loved me, and I him. But, it was no secret I was not who he truly desired above all else." She laughed lightly, downplaying the seriousness of her words. "We all loved someone before we love another. For Lucius, her name was Irma. She was successful, beautiful, pureblood to boot, but Abraxas only saw her love for others as weakness. I suppose that's why Lucius chose me, after all was said and done. While I might have a heart, my mother taught me one thing: never show your cards to the table." She took a strong pull of her wine before continuing. "You ask how I could marry a man like him, but for me, it was simple. Deep inside, despite all that Abraxas had tried to wretch out of him, Lucius still carries that glint of kindness. Draco didn't get the capacity for compassion from me, I'm afraid. Only his need to hold all of his cards close to him."
"Are you kidding me? You're plenty compassionate."
"Only to those of value to me. I care nothing of strangers or acquaintances. It is a flaw I've lived with all my life. But my son doesn't hold this trait. Despite what he says, he cares a great deal for the world, the same as Lucius. It's why they're so passionate, you see. While Lucius might have sided with the wrong side of the War, he only joined because he thought he was doing it good."
Dean snorted a disbelieving laugh. "Massive genocide of muggleborns is good?"
"I did not say it was right. Only that he thought it was. My feelings towards the muggleborns has, and will always be, indifferent. Draco mistakes my indifference for disapproval, but I still do not think him any lower simply because he wishes to marry this muggleborn witch. As long as she is good to him, and a fit mother for Scorpius, what do I care?"
"Damn, Missus Malfoy. That's cold."
"That's about as good as you'll get from me, Auror Thomas."
Dean nodded, feeling his cell phone buzz in his pocket. He reached down, pulled it from his pockets, and checked the screen. "Erm, excuse me. I'll be right back." He found a quiet spot on the balcony outside of the dining room and pressed the 'call back' button, pulling the phone to his ear.
Ring. Ring. Click.
"Dean?"
"Hey, Luna." Dean grinned. "You've no idea how great your voice sounds right now."
"I imagine it sounds a bit higher. This is the Trunberry mating season, you know, and they tend to sprinkle the air with higher concentrations of helium, which would make my voice sound higher, and thus more appealing to those of the opposite sex."
Merlin, he loved this woman. Even if she was raving mad. "Great. That's… cool, Luna. But did you get anything on Bolt?"
"Yes. Do you have a pen?"
"I always carry the one you got me for our anniversary," Dean said with a smirk, reaching into his breast pocket and producing said pen. He pulled out the two-way parchment, which would relay everything to Jameson on the other end, and braced it against the patio table. "Lay it on me, babe."
Dinner went well enough. Theodore cooked roasted carrots, snap peas, and cauliflower in a mixture of seasonings paired with a thick cut of lamb, which, apparently, was mighty impressive according to Astoria. Scorpius, however, turned his nose up at it and demanded pancakes. Theodore offered to make some for the lad, but Astoria forced five bites out of him before sending him up to bed with a kiss on the cheek.
"He needs to learn pancakes are not acceptable for every meal," she explained when they were alone.
"Are you sure about that?" Theodore grinned. "He might be on to something."
Astoria's eyebrows shot up, impressed. "Did you just make a joke?"
"I believe I did."
"I didn't know you were capable."
"When the need suits me," Theodore shrugged, "I find I can be quite humorous."
"So it seems." She shot him a wink. "One simply needs to look at your face."
It was Theodore's turn to raise eyebrows, and he did. "Is something wrong with my face?"
Astoria laughed into her hand as she stood from the table, sauntered around it, and leaned over, touching nose to nose with him. "Never change, Auror Jameson." Slowly, she found her way into his lap, wrapping one arm, and then the other, around his neck. Theodore only stiffened in his chair, far too afraid to say anything. This gorgeous, intelligent, wondrous woman was sitting in his lap. Words escaped him. They seemed plenty fine from her mouth, however. "Did I ever tell you why Draco and I divorced, Theo?"
He shook his head meekly in response.
"I thought, at first, it was because of his Auror status. I've never found the profession endearing, mind you. My father made it clear Aurors lived short lives and to never involve myself with one. And yet, here I am, with you, and all I can think about is kissing your lips. Why is that, do you think?"
Hot. It was entirely too hot in this Manor again. A few cooling spells would come in handy right now… "I haven't a clue, Miss Greengrass." Though he nearly wished she would act on her impulses; he could never bring himself to.
"I think it's because I know I, myself, haven't long to live." Her green eyes searched his, telling.
Theodore frowned. "You speak of your illness. The one which darkens your veins."
She nodded, pulling back her arm to slip her sleeve up and reveal her blackened wrist. There were tears in her eyes, but Astoria Greengrass was a strong woman, and she stayed her crying. "A blood curse. It skips generations, but I'm the lucky candidate this time around." She laughed depressingly. "The knowledge it will not touch my son gives me great joy. -All this time, I wanted to live out a full life. And now I find myself falling for you, and I fear by putting myself in your way I'm disabling you from finding someone of whom you could truly give everything to." She glanced down to his lips, once, before removing herself from his lap entirely. Astoria, in her embarrassment, brushed down her dress skirting and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Listen to me, going on as if we're meant to be. We barely know each other. Forgive me for my forwardness."
Astoria made to leave, but Theodore reached out, wrapping his fingers around her wrist to halt her. Hazel eyes met green, and he found himself once again wishing he knew how to read faces. To Hell with it all, he would say what he had to say and be done with it. "I feel as if I've known you my whole life, Astoria. Perhaps we did know each other in a past one?"
A smile breached her face, and she nodded thoughtfully. "It would explain a lot, wouldn't it?"
"You could still, very well, live a prosperously long life. "
"Says the man with a death warrant hanging over his head every time he steps out in the line of duty. You're one to talk about the longevity of life."
"Well, then." Theodore attempted a smile. He hoped it would do. "I promise to stay alive if you will."
Silence. And then…
"That so?"
"Yes."
In a flourish of movements too fast for Theodore to comprehend, Astoria threw herself forward and into his arms, landing a thick, robust kiss on his lips that had him nearly falling out of his chair. Hands found their way through his hair. Lips brushed against his own. Then a tongue. By the gods, this woman tasted divine. His hands found life of their own, despite his eagerness to remain chaste with her, and they traveled around her waist, pulling her into his lap once again. Minutes carried on until the grandfather clock in the corner of the room struck nine, startling them both enough to cease their ravenous make out session. Astoria grinned ear to ear as she planted one last kiss, this time to Theodore's cheek.
"I best go kiss Scorpius goodnight."
"Of course." His ears pulsed with warmth.
"You'll stay the night, of course?"
"Of course. I'll be in the room down the hall, should you need me."
Astoria sent him a saucy wink as she plucked herself from his lap -yet again. "Need you, Theodore?"
"I… what I meant was-"
She placed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Settle down. I knew what you meant." Her finger dragged down his lips in the most appealing way. "I'll see you in the morning, Theodore."
"Theo," he whispered. "You… you may call me Theo."
"Right… Theo."
And with that, Astoria Greengrass departed from the room, leaving Jameson a puddle of hormones, confusion, and elation in his chair.
At a quarter past midnight, Theodore finally managed to find the will to douse the fires in the den's hearth and sleep, though he couldn't bring himself to crawl the staircase to the guest bedroom as planned. It was far too close to Astoria, and he wasn't sure he could stop himself from tucking himself in the doorway just to watch her sleep.
Was that as creepy as he thought it sounded? Great Circe, what was happening to him?
He was just about to check his two-way parchment from Dean, just to see if anything new had developed, when Scorpius's Sneakoscope, abandoned on the coffee table from earlier this evening, began to spin like a top.
"Interesting…"
Theodore reached for his wand, brandishing it in front of him. He plucked the Sneakoscope from the table and rested it in his free hand, circling around the room. The closer he walked towards the hallway nearby, the quicker the scope began to spin. Yes, he knew it was simply a toy, but a toy not to be taken lightly. He pocketed the object, prepared himself, and leaped out into the hallway.
"Aha!"
No one was there.
"Well… that was mildly disappointing."
"Auror Jameson?"
Theodore whipped around to find Astoria standing in front of him, dressed in a thin negligee which left little to the imagination. "Astoria. What- what are you doing up?"
"I couldn't sleep," she said, crossing her arms. "Thought I would find myself a glass of warm milk. You seem to have made yourself at home. Playing pirates?"
Theodore tucked his hands behind his back, thoroughly embarrassed. "My rounds."
Astoria raised an eyebrow, noticing his blush. "Of course." She unfolded her arms, and Theodore tore his eyes away at once, trying very hard not to notice the pert breasts nearly spilling out of Astoria's nightgown. He was raised with manners, after all. "Are you alright, Auror Jameson?"
"Astoria, please. Theo will do, as I've said," he muttered. "Aren't… you a bit cold?"
"Cold?" Astoria glanced down, and then she laughed. "Oh. No." Her head drew back up, and she stared at him in the most peculiar way. "Do you find me attractive, Theo?"
Damn it all. The cooling charms he set to his clothes earlier must have worn off, because Theodore couldn't think straight, too flustered. "If tonight's dinner was any indication…"
She stepped forward, directly into Theodore's personal bubble. She seemed to be doing a lot of that this evening. "Then why not have me?"
"What? Astoria, I-" but Theodore didn't finish his sentence, because Astoria shut him up with a feverish, ravenous kiss. Her hands went to his hair, tugging it firmer than before. She hooked her leg around his hip, nearly toppling him over as he stumbled back into the wall. With her body pressed against his, Theodore had no choice but to attempt to talk some sense into the seductive woman. "Astoria-" he began, his hands moving to her hips to peel her off of him, even as she began to trail brazen kisses down his throat. "Oh, Merlin… Astoria, now isn't the time to-"
"Shhh…" she cooed into his ear, her hand moving down her side to wrap around his own, wand still cradled between his fingertips. "Let this happen, Theo."
Theodore struggled to remain focused. A man of many morals, he felt going all the way with Astoria, without having asked her on a proper date, most certainly wasn't the way to go about wooing her affections. He opened his eyes and peered down at her, breaths overlapping one another from the friction in his pants. "This is much too soon."
"Hmph. You always were one for taking things slow, weren't you?" Astoria peered up at him, an unfamiliar smirk grazing her lips. Theodore scowled, eyes trailing down to his wand. There, he noticed the subtle details for the first time. Astoria's arm wasn't marked by curse.
"You're not Astoria. -Who are you?"
"Aww, Theodore. Don't you recognize an old friend?" Astoria pouted her lips. "I'm hurt. Really I am."
WHAM! Pain! Theodore fell forward, sick to his stomach from the immense, sharp pain between his legs. Stars formed in front of his eyes like white bursts, and, in a moment of foolishness, he dropped his wand as he felt to his knees.
Astoria laughed, picking it up. "Jameson, you dolt. Pretty women have always been your weakness, haven't they?" The woman before him changed in front of his eyes. Soft, chestnut hair turned dirty blonde. Stunning green faded to dusty blue. Her built grew slight, short, and nimble. When the transformation was complete, the woman leaned forward and tapped Jameson on the head with his wand, smirking.
"Lindy…"
"Don't tell me Britain's most gifted Auror is down for the count already? And we were just getting started."
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How To Train Your Auror 2: Family Ties