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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
- 37
- 38
- 39
I won't make ya'll wait with frilly words. Thank you to my lovely beta and friend, waymay, for proofing this chapter for me. Thank you to LightofEvolution, who sat up with me past her bedtime on numerous occasions to go over the finer details of this climax. Thank you to every single on of you for reading.
~A.
Strike me down, take me away
Debts are due, it's time to pay
Face what I deserve, here comes judgement day
I won't run, the guilt is mine
Too long denying all my crimes
Face what I deserve, here comes judgement day

"Judgement Day" by Stealth
Omg this song fits so well... go take a listen, please
The landing into the garden was rougher than intended, and Greg landed with a firm smack into the ground, tumbling this way and that while cradling Scorpius Malfoy's head with his hand. When he stopped rolling, he was on his back, staring up at the star-lit sky, so clear and bright. He remembered it had been snowing in London, but here, in Wiltshire, the weather was just icy and bitter. Much like Greg's heart as he realized, with a firm solidarity, the implications of his recent actions.
He knew it was utterly selfish to contemplate his own demise at a time like this, but Greg Diggle wasn't a selfless man. From an early age, he learned the world was cruel and defecated on those deemed less fortunate. It's why he used humor as a coping mechanism, though he could hardly find it now in the murky twilight hours. One thought kept ramming itself against the forefront of his mind, angry and violent.
I am going to die.
A soft whimper hung in the air, forcing his reality. Sitting up, he found Scorpius clinging against his chest, a nest of tears on his cheeks and distraught in his silver-flecked eyes. Eyes so similar to Greg's one-time enemy. To think, he'd threatened this child's life when he was an infant… Greg thought of his mother and what she might say. Probably something to the effect of calling him a monster and then reminding him he never had any children himself.
"S'alright, Scorpius," he assured the boy, patting him awkwardly on the head. "You're safe."
"D-D-Daddy," Scorpius sniffled, rubbing his sleeve under his slimy nose.
Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Greg peeled the child off of him and sat him down beside him. Surrounding the two were those lovely rose bushes. Beneath their feet was a flower bed of wilted, frozen plants. A ways off, a fountain could be seen, shimmering silver moonbeams in its reflection.
If I'm going to die, he thought, I could do worse.
"Listen to me, Scorpius," he murmured, already feeling a coiling around his arm of searing heat. The same coil from his vow, now broken. "Don't you worry about your father, now. He's… obdurate. Do you know what that means? Well, of course you don't. It means stubborn." He patted the crying child on the head.
"Mummy says I stu-stu-bern…"
"Yes, you must get it from him. Not to worry, though. The stubborn ones always live. Your daddy will be alright." The heat began traveling up his arm into his shoulder, and the entire limb grew heavy. "You watch. Any moment now, either your daddy or Hermione will come around that corner, right as rain. In the meantime, you have me. No one's going to hurt you under my watch."
"Pwomise?"
"Yes."
The child seemed comforted by the man's words, and he, to Greg's surprise, snuggled into his side, wiping his snotty nose on Diggle's robes. "I Scorpius."
"Er… yes. I know. I'm… Greg Diggle."
"Geg?"
"Greg."
"Dingle?"
"Diggle."
"Dingle!" Scorpius giggled.
Greg opened his mouth to argue, but then the heat traveled up his neck and into his throat, and he decided not to worry about things so trivial in his final moments. "Quite right, Scorpius. I think everyone would agree with you."
Draco settled with a loud POP next to the Quidditch shed, unaware his father had stood here, in this very spot, only a short time ago. There was a sweat above his brow, though the night air surrounding him was icy and unapologetic. His heart stammered in his chest as he leaned against the wall behind him and closed his eyes, attempting to alleviate the surge of adrenaline in his veins.
The moment was short lived, because another POP echoed in his ears, and he reopened his eyes, expecting his grandfather but only meeting the withering gaze of Hermione Jean Granger, curls splaying at odd angles and charred ashes of the manor painting her lovely, angry face.
"Hermione-" he didn't hesitate to reach out and grab her by the hand, jerking her into his chest, the cane extended by his left hand away from them. The two embraced each other for some sweet seconds before she pushed herself back and glared with contempt.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"You shouldn't be here," was all he could reply back before another crack rang through the air, and a daunting silhouette landed some ways away.
"He's right, you know," said Abraxas Malfoy, unbutton the top clasp of his crisp, white robes now stained in soot. With a shrug, they fell to to the ground, leaving him in a casual vest, button up, and slacks combo, all still the same, fine shade of ivory. He rolled his head from one side to the other, cracking the joints. "This is a family affair, after all."
"You-" Hermione seethed, lunging toward Abraxas, but Draco held her back. Keeping a firm hand on her shoulder.
"Don't," he warned her.
"You'd do well to listen to him, mudblood," the elder Malfoy smirked.
"We have the stones. He's at the disadvantage," Draco reminded Hermione.
"For now." Abraxas gave an unimpressed yawn and glanced down at his manicured nails, as if he were bored of the entire situation. "I'm disappointed in you, Draco. I thought we came to an agreement when it came to your blood loyalties."
"All this talk about pure blood versus dirty blood, but have you thought once to assess your conscience!?" Hermione seethed.
"Loyal, that one," Abraxas noted. "Tell me, doesn't it get tiring scampering around my grandson's feet like the concubine you are?"
"Enough," Draco said, stepping between the two. "It's over. The Ministry's arrived. Any moment now, your followers will be in chains on their way to Azkaban. You've lost."
"Then, tell me, Draco. Why am I so calm?"
"Because you're delusional?" he offered back.
"It's a setback. Nothing more." Abraxas offered out his hand. "Give me the cane, now, and I promise to spare your whore. I might even let you keep her if you produce a few more pureblood heirs."
"Now I know you're delusional." Draco brandished the cane like a spear when his grandfather took a step closer, causing the elder Malfoy to pause. "I want you to know, when this is all over, I'm marrying Hermione. I'm going to put it in all the papers with the headline 'Malfoy Heir Marries Muggleborn, Smashing Pureblood Patriarchy.' And then we're going to have a whole set of halfblood children."
"And we'll even enroll them in public school!" Hermione shouted gleefully.
Draco turned his head and gave her a disbelieving look. "That's pushing it a bit far, don't you think?"
"Why not? I was raised in public schools until Hogwarts-"
"Maybe this isn't the time to talk about-"
Something high pitched and ear-splitting tore apart the conversation -Draco realized, in horror, it was his son. Somewhere off in the distance, Scorpius was screaming.
"I dare say the two of you are getting ahead of yourselves," quipped Abraxas, "seeing as how you can't seem to keep track of your own sniveling brat."
"That brat is the heir to the Malfoy lineage!" Draco challenged. "If something happens to him-"
"-It would be a shame, yes. Not only does he carry our blood, but the line of the Greengrasses as well. Although, I had no idea the name would besmirch themselves as muggle sympathizers. Perhaps if something does happen to the boy, it would be for the best." Abraxas took a gleeful step back, toward the gardens. "I can smell him, you know. He's frightened. And there's blood…"
"You touch a hair on his head, and I'll-"
"You'll what?" Abraxas raised a challenging eyebrow. "Just what will you do, boy?"
A fireball whizzed past Draco's cheek and slammed hard into Abraxas's stomach. The man, though packed in his youthful, resilient body, was caught off guard, and he was knocked flat on his back, his clothing singing.
"Come on!" Hermione shouted, grabbing Draco's hand and tearing toward the gardens. Draco followed suit, leaping over the disoriented Abraxas. He let her lead him, shoes clomping against the frozen dirt, until they were near at the garden entrance. He thought about following, really he did, but something nagged him in the back of his head, in the front of his heart, and at the bottom of his stomach. Something called his courageous conscience.
He ripped his hand out of hers and backed up a few paces just as Abraxas made it to his feet.
She'd never leave him. She'd never let him do this on his own, which is exactly why he needed to.
"What are you-?"
"-I love you," he said, raising his hands between them. "Which is why I have to do this." A burst of shimmering blue light expelled from his fingertips, jettisoning outwards and up. It formed a barrier between Draco and Hermione, climbing up, up, up and cascading back down on the other side of the Quidditch shack.
"No." Hermione ran at the dome and slammed her fist up against it. "No!"
Draco pressed his hand to the barrier, right where her fist sat, and gave a timid smirk. "Don't try to get past it, love. You're shaken up. Spend your energy on finding Scorpius."
"Draco, don't you dare walk away from me!" she shouted as he turned his back, meeting Abraxas's vicious grin. He didn't need to turn around to know the blue light grew opaque, solidifying the barrier and trapping him inside with no way to see or hear outside its walls.
The world turned, though it was eerily still.
"Just us?" asked his grandfather.
"Just us," Draco nodded.
Hermione slammed her fists repeatedly over the dome, screaming and cursing. She tried every which way to use her Gray magic to unbind it, but her heart was conflicted, and it weakened her powers exponentially. Eventually, she collapsed onto her knees, resting her forehead against the barricade.
"Idiot," she whispered, "You brave, pretentious idiot."
"Hermione!"
Wiping her sleeves under her eyes, Hermione turned her head to the side to find Harry rounding the edge of the dome into view.
"Hermione, what's going on? Where's Malfoy? Abraxas?"
"In there," she said, rising to her feet.
"I was afraid you were going to tell me something like that." He gave a heavy sigh. "Well, go on. Do the thing you do and tear it down."
"I can't."
"What do you mean you can't?"
Before Hermione could answer, two more faces skirted into view. Dean was whistling, staring up at the enormous dome while Auror Jameson approached with a stoic expression, drenched in blood. He didn't give introductions, instead saying, "Where's Astoria? Is she safe?"
"Yes. She's near the gate, away from harm."
"Thank you." Theodore looked to Harry expectantly.
"By all means, go," Harry waved his hand. "You don't need my permission, Auror Jameson."
He was gone quicker than a lightning strike, heading toward the gate. Without explanation, she turned toward the entryway of the garden: a latticework arch weaved with leafless vines. Just before she broke the threshold, Harry slipped a hand on her shoulder.
"Where are you going?"
"Scorpius is in the gardens. I'm going to find him and bring him to Astoria."
"But Malfoy-"
"-Has made his decision!" she snapped, jerking out of his grasp. "There's nothing I can do. The barrier is too strong, even for me." She could feel herself shaking, fear and frustration in her heart. "But I can do this. I can find Scorpius and protect him. I have to… as his mother. I have promises to keep."
She made to take a step forward again, but she felt a warm hand envelope hers, and she paused. Harry came to stand at her side, his green eyes gentle. "Alright, Hermione. Let's go find him. Together."
"Thank you, Harry." She wiped more stray tears away with her free arm.
"Well, I'm not going to stay here by myself," said Dean, stepping up to stand on her other side. "That thing," he gestured with his head toward the dome, "gives me the willies."
Together, the three of them stepped into the gardens. Hermione's heart weighed heavily, and walking away from Draco tore her heart in two. Still, she focused on the path ahead of her, spreading her Gray out in front of her to sense any sign of life. Two presences. Both in the center of the labyrinth.
"The rose bushes," she told the men, hand still in Harry's as they began to jog, then run the pathway. With each turn around another corner, Scorpius could be heard just a bit louder, sniffling and sobbing. Hermione's heart sped as they rounded the final bend.
There, resting against the basin of the fountain, his knees to his chest as he let out small whimpers, was-
"Scorpius!"
With a startled jump, the boy glanced up, his eyes connecting with Hermione's.
"Hermummy?"
"Scorpius!"
She ran to him, throwing herself beside him and scooping him up against her chest. She hugged him so tight he gave a gasp of surprise, squealing, "Tiiiiight!"
Now understanding Molly Weasley's overpowering hugs during Christmas holidays, Hermione released her son and began to check him over. Every bit of skin was pale and void of bruising. Aside from puffy eyes and tousled hair, he looked completely fine."Are you alright?"
"I okay!" Scorpius wrapped his soft arms around her neck. "Hermummy here."
"How did you get here?" she asked.
"Hermione," said Harry, pointing off toward the flower beds on the other side of the fountain. Scorpius in tow, she hoisted herself up to stand and carried the toddler around the display.
She now understood why Scorpius screamed. The sight of Greg Diggle, covered in blood and dripping it from his mouth as he leaned against a thorny rose bush wasn't anything a young boy should see. "Diggle?"
With a heavy cough, Greg Diggle lunged forward, hacking up crimson into his lap. Sweat dripped off the tip of his nose. He shivered, even as Dean jerked off his robes and draped them over his shoulders. Once he was through hacking, Diggle's green eyes glimmered up at Hermione, and a timid smirk breached his face.
"I haven't died already, have I?" He winced, clutching his stomach. "Bollocks. Nope. Nope, still alive."
"What happened?" asked Dean, trying to wrap an arm under Diggle's to help him up, but the ex-Auror shrugged him off and shook his head, bading to stay put.
"Dingle hurt," said Scorpius in a matter of fact tone, nuzzling into Hermione's neck.
"What happened?" Hermione asked, repeating Dean's question.
"Wouldn't you know I grew a conscience at the worst possible time?"
"...You broke your vow." She looked down at the shaking toddler in her arms, fitting the clues together. "You took Scorpius away from the Manor, and you broke your vow."
"You're dying," said Harry.
"Nothing gets past this one," Diggle rolled his eyes.
"Why?" she asked.
"Guess you taught me something in that mirror," Diggle shrugged, leaning his head back against the rose bushes. They were a rare strain meant to grow all year round, and they added an ironic backdrop to Greg Diggle's shaking form. "Damn it all, why'd you have to go and make me soft?"
"It's called a heart," Hermione kissed Scorpius's head and passed him off to Harry. Then, very slowly, she approached Greg, who stared, bewildered, as she sat down in front of him. "Thank you."
Though there were bags under his eyes, his irises gained new spark at her words. He reached out for her hand, and she let him take it. Something in her, no matter how much she loathed him, couldn't bring herself to be bitter and cold in his dying moments. "Plant a tree here in my honor? Maybe its roots will drag up the foundation, and I can finally have my revenge on the Malfoys."
Hermione felt a tear slip down her cheek. "Don't be an arse."
Diggle coughed again, wheezing for breath. "You… deserved better."
"I did."
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
Greg Diggle pondered her words for half a moment.
"Did… did you make a Star Wars reference?"
With a gentle, saddened smile, Hermione Granger winked at him. "It's possible."
Greg couldn't help it -he burst into a fit of laughter, throwing his head back to look at the stars. They hung like thousands of fairy lights, beckoning him. Pain coursed through his body. He didn't want to hold on any longer. This was enough. Having her here, though he knew she'd rather be anywhere else right now, was enough. With her beautiful, brown eyes still the main focus of his thoughts, he closed his eyes, letting his laughter give way to chuckles, then soft laughter, and then, with one last breath, he let go.
Soft, white light engulfed him; the next moment, he was gone.
"Get up, Draco." Abraxas taunted from above; Draco managed to avoid a curse by rolling onto his side, careful to point the Pandora Stones away from his face. Blood dripped from a split in his lip. Most of his strength went into keeping the barrier up, making Abraxas that much stronger as he'd thrown Draco around with spouts of magic like a ragdoll, trying to shake his grip of the cane. Draco, each time, would take the blow, smacking into the dome or the ground, but he never relinquished his hold. He'd managed to counter a few times -even with fiendfyre, but Abraxas's payment to the Gray was far greater than Draco's, and he was able to douse it easily. Still, he wasn't able to shake the barrier, but perhaps he didn't want to. Perhaps he enjoyed being alone together.
In a desperate attempt to even the scales, Draco recalled the most painful spell he'd ever encountered and shouted, "Sectumsempra!"
The spell hit Abraxas full on. Blood gushed from his chest as if he'd been sliced with Godric Gryffindor's own sword. Draco thought he'd had it -he'd finally gotten him, when Abraxas ran his hands over his gashed skin and it began to pull back together.
"That tickled," Abraxas laughed. "Was that the best you could do?" Noticing his grandson's dismayed face, he added, "The Gray is bound to my soul, or have you forgotten? If I die, it dies. So you see, you really don't stand a chance. But thank you ever so much for teaching me a new spell. Sectumsempra!"
Draco tried rebounding it, but, in his weakened state, he was too slow. The curse hit him straight across the navel, searing into his flesh like a burning hot poker being dragged across his skin. Fear gripped his heart as his knees gave way under him. Was this it? Was this really the end?
"Your heart has made you vulnerable," whispered Abraxas as he approached. "I was wrong. You were never worthy of the Malfoy name." His boot came down on Draco's chest, further adding to his already overwhelming pain. Draco screamed, but no one could hear him. No one but his grandfather, who wasn't even that. "Do you know what vulnerability makes you, Draco?" He pried the cane from Draco's hands. "It makes you weak. And Malfoys are never weak. So, in essence, you were never truly a Malfoy." He smirked as he turned the cane upside down, shining the Pandora Stones in Draco's face. "And as such, I will take your undeserved gifts from you, and you can die as the muggle scum you love so much."
THWACK.
"The only scum around here is you."
Abraxas Malfoy fell to the ground, dropping the cane as he went. Above Draco stood a huffing, unruffled, undignified version of Lucius Malfoy, strands of white-blond hair dangling dangerously in front of his face. In his hand was one of Draco's old beater bats. With a hearty smirk, he extended his other hand down to Draco.
"D-Dad?" Draco winced, closing his eyes momentarily and concentrating all of his efforts, momentarily, on the gash across his stomach. He healed himself, giving a hefty sigh of relief. Then, he opened his eyes back up and allowed his father to pull him to his feet. "How did you get here? Are you here?" He thought about pinching himself. Could he be hallucinating?
"The dual mirror passage in the shed," Lucius answered, "Did you really think I'd stand idly by and allow my only son the luxury of taking down my hellion of a father without me?"
"I told you not to come," said Draco with a sudden rush of anger.
"I suppose your inherent stubbornness isn't all from your mother's side of the family. You're my son, Draco." Lucius placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just as you would never abandon your son, I will never abandon mine. That's what a father does. Though I can't say I had the best of role models..."
"Lu...cius…" Abraxas growled, still dazed and confused from the blunt trauma to the back of his head. Without hesitation, Lucius dove down and scooped up the cane. He held it to Abraxas's face, threatening.
"Father, wait," Draco placed a hand on Lucius's arm. "His soul is attached to the Gray. If you take his magic…"
Abraxas gave a low, maniacal chuckle. "Yes, Lucius. Do you honestly think you have the stomach to kill your own father?"
He could see the twitch in his father's eye. "Not alone," Draco placed his hand on the cane as well. "Together."
"Wait…"
"Together," Lucius nodded.
"No… Lucius… you're my son!" Abraxas shouted.
"As I recall you telling me, I am no son of yours."
They moved the cane in unison, and a streaming, blinding blue light burst from the end of the cane as the stones came in contact with Abraxas's face. Draco felt a tug in his chest, like a piece of him being ripped from his soul. He realized, with a start, it was the Gray. It wasn't a clean break -it was painful, and jarring, and he shouted in unison with his grandfather as a small, glowing light flew out of Abraxas's chest and was sucked up into the pandora stones.
His soul, Draco realized as he and Lucius were thrown backward with the force.
The cane flew threw the air, landing like a spike some metres away.
Abraxas Malfoy's cold, grey eyes were fixed on the stars above, but he would never look upon them again.
I want to take a moment to thank everyone who has reviewed the last two chapters, and who might this one. I promise to answer reviews next chapter, and I will let you know I've read EVERY single one of them and cherish them all. My heart is filled with joy, and I didn't want to make you wait a moment longer for this chapter. The next one will be up in less than a week, I can guarantee. I know the next question: how many more chapters? I'm thinking 3. And also, how does a HTTYA3 sound? Covering normal cases and life after this? Who would be up for that?
My fic Squirm is up for a Dramione award for best WIP. If you wanted to help me out and vote for me, PM me and I'll send you a link. :D
Can't wait to see you all next chapter.
With love,
~A.
Oh. P.S.
Authors can't sit around sipping tea with Satin while killing off a character. We sit in silence, shaking and defeated. Our hearts break. A piece of us dies. I have tears in my eyes, and I'm not okay. Greg Diggle has been my OC since I was 13 years old. He will always live on, in some form or another, but this tore me up. I know, I know. He's done terrible things. But even still...
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How To Train Your Auror 2: Family Ties