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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
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Chapter List
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Tears are shed, a shame, I should have known
I should have thought, I could have thought
Before I cast that stone
The waves radiate far and wide
There's a ringing in my ears
For a minute
I think I'm going blind
Tears are shed, a shame, I should have known
The crown weighs heavy
Heavy as I sit back in my throne
I say hey, it wasn't me
I'm just a pawn
But the devil's not into details
Where have all the heroes gone?
"Hey I Don't Know" by KONGOS
Much to Draco's disgruntlement, Saturday morning was no longer on the table for time off. He and Hermione dressed early in the morning, fighting back exhaustion as they prepared for the debriefing this morning at the Ministry. The entire Auror department was scheduled to come, aside from those select few who had to stay to their cases off base. Even then, they were assigned to floo in if at all possible. Draco bought them both English muffins from the corner shop near the entrances and even picked up a muffin for Dean, who thanked him when they all sat down in the briefing room, snacking on their morning breakfasts. Dean told Hermione that her cat, which he had taken over the weekend to give the couple their privacy, was doing well, despite the fact that he had torn up three of his couch cushions.
"We'll pay for the cushions to be replaced, won't we Draco?"
Draco scoffed. "It's your cat, Hermione. You're responsible when it goes astray."
Hermione narrowed her eyes and turned her head to Dean. "I'm really sorry, Dean. Really."
"S'alright. The fur ball is cute once you get past the initial devil-like nature."
"Perhaps you should call it Lucifer."
"We're not naming the cat Lucifer. I was thinking something like Ollie…"
"Ollie-fur?" Dean offered, throwing his hand out for Draco to high five, but the aristocratic Auror simply rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Fine." Dean put his hand down. "I'm going to get you to do it one of these days."
Potter arrived two minutes before the briefing, passing out parchments to each one of the Aurors in the room. On each was a list, and at the top of it, Draco saw his own name. This was the list for every Death Eater that wasn't contained in Azkaban either because they had been exonerated of all crimes like Draco, or because they were still on the run. Beneath each bulleted name was also a list of known family members. Hermione, Scorpius, and Astoria were amongst his parents on the list underneath his name, which was marked 'Defected'. He felt detached, looking at it as if this list didn't actually refer to him. If he kept it separate in his mind, it would make this briefing go by so much quicker. He stared down at the other names on the list, including Walden Macnair(defected), Adam Avery Senior (missing), and Agustus Rockwood (missing). There were relatives on this list more than actual Death Eaters. Draco scanned his eyes over family names he had grown up with: Dolohov, Rosier, Goyle, Crabbe, Lestrange, Black. Though most of the actual Death Eaters associated with these names were either imprisoned or dead, it didn't hold back the names of their family members. Draco's eyes scanned over his mother's maiden heritage of the Blacks, and then his eyes rested on an unfamiliar name in the Crabbe column. There was Irma, Vincent's mother, but - then there was a second name. Eleven years old. Female. Victoria. Victoria Crabbe.
Draco scanned his eyes over the name again and again. Surely this wasn't correct. That would mean that Crabbe… had a sister. And she had been born only shortly after the war. Was that possible? Did his once childhood friend somehow live on in the form of a sibling? And why had he not known? It must have been because he had pulled away from the Crabbe family after Vincent's death.
"If I can get everyone's attention," Potter spoke, breaking Draco away from his thoughts. "Last night, the Ministry of Magic discovered a new group of enemies who are aiming their attacks on former Death Eaters and their families. What is said here is in confidence, and you're sworn by your oath not to repeat it to anyone, so I shouldn't have to remind any of you that the penalty for breaking that oath means you would be stripped of your position here at the Ministry. This briefing is done in the utmost confidentiality to protect those on the lists before you. Which, if you will turn to your list, is a complete, to the best of our records, recording of any and all Death Eaters not in the confines of Azkaban, and their families as well. Last night, Lucius Malfoy was attacked in his home in Nepal by an unknown assailant wearing what could be described as a white mask painted like a wolf."
An Auror by the name of Kingston raised his hand. "Not that I don't believe in protecting our citizens, but why should we be concerned if a few Death Eaters are picked off? Wouldn't that help our cause?"
There was a hushed murmur across the room, and Draco felt Hermione pat him on the leg in support.
"That's not our place to judge, Kingston," replied Potter. "Right now, our first priority is the protection of those who would be attacked. -The weapon is a blue stone that many of you are familiar with from the cataclysmic events two years ago known as The Takeover. On this day, Gregory Diggle used technology inspired by a blue rock called the Pandora Stone. Auror Granger, would you pass out the pamphlets?"
Hermione nodded, rose from her chair, and passed around a new set of parchments, this time with everything known about the Pandora stone written alongside a detailed sketch Draco had drawn two years ago.
"This stone has the power to strip magic, so if you come across it, do not come in direct contact with it. If it touches your skin, you're most likely to never perform magic again. -Your jobs are simple. Each one of you will be assigned a family to monitor. Until we know more about this assailant and their goals, we must keep those who are in the line of fire out of harm's way. Aurors Malfoy and Thomas will see me for their assignments. I would also like Aurors Jameson and Bolt to stay behind. Please see Auror Tyme before you leave for your assigned family."
Potter took a bit more time explaining the situation before excusing the room. Hermione stayed behind with Draco, Dean, Lindy Bolt and Theodore Jameson, the new recruits from last year. Lindy always worked Draco's last nerve; she was an overeager witch who couldn't recognise sarcasm and always thought too much of Draco. Theodore wasn't too bad, though he was quiet, and Draco didn't know much about him other than that.
Potter crossed his arms and addressed the remaining Aurors. "Auror Bolt, you're paired with Auror Malfoy as his personal detail until the time being."
"What?" Draco shouted at once. "I don't need a detail, Potter! Do you forget, I'm an Auror?"
"An Auror who has a giant target on his back," Potter replied coolly. "Having a second pair of eyes won't hurt, you know."
"Hermione can be my eyes," Draco nudged over to his fiancé.
"No, she can't. She has a new set of recruits to train up starting Monday morning."
"What about Jameson?" Draco threw his hand over to the silent-as-the-grave Auror.
"Jameson assigned to your son and his mother. So unless you'd like to stay on house arrest, I suggest you take Lindy with you and work with her."
Lindy waved a hand over to Draco. She was annoying, not a hair out of place as she had her sandy-blonde hair pulled back in a tight fitting bun. Her robes were far too pressed, her shoes far too polished, and her smile far too white to be natural. If anything, she was like one of those robots Draco had watched on Hermione's telly. He bet if he cut her open, she'd bleed perfectly too.
"And me, Harry?" asked Dean.
"Your assignment is to monitor the Malfoy senior household. I'm asking this of you, Dean, because I know you're good at keeping a firm head to not gossip."
"Oh, joy…" Dean said dully.
"Right. So, is that it?" Draco stood, and much to his disgruntlement, Lindy did as well. She was going to be an annoying thorn in his side, wasn't she? "When do I get my portkey?"
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Hermione asked, reaching up and touching his arm. "I don't think it's a good idea."
"He's in Azkaban, Hermione," he assured her. "What can he do to me locked in a magic-binding interrogation room? Seriously, you have nothing to worry over." He leaned down, kissed her firmly on the lips, and rose to stand.
"Congratulations on your engagement, by the way," said Dean, coming to stand next to the two. Lindy wasn't far behind, pushing her way between Draco and Dean like an ant through the slats of a floor. "So, Malfoy, mate, have you chosen a best man yet?" He ribbed Draco in the side.
"You're real subtle, Dean." Draco rolled his eyes. "We've been engaged less than twenty-four hours. Perhaps give us at least a day before you decide to worm your way into the wedding party."
"Right, right," Dean grinned. "But really, Malfoy. You and I both know I could throw you one Hell of a bachelor party."
"Dean, maybe you should really tone it down a notch," Hermione laughed. "The more you try to pry Draco into doing anything, the less inclined he is to do it, even if it's what he's been planning all along."
Draco scowled. "Just because I don't know who I want to be my best man doesn't mean I'm less inclined to pick someone based off of how they nag me. -Bribery works best, Thomas."
"Draco!"
"What?"
He smirked down at his soon-to-be wife, patted her on the head, and glared over to Lindy Bolt. "Come on, Auror Bolt. Let's go to Azkaban."
"Wh-What, sir?" Lindy squeaked.
"Oh, didn't you hear? We're going undercover. Gonna sit in a cell for a day or two."
"Oh, honestly, Draco! Stop it!" Hermione scolded. "You've given her a fright!"
Draco ignored her, strolling his way back up to Potter, who looked rather chipper. "What's on your mind, Scarface? -Sorry, Auror Scarface?"
Potter rolled his eyes. "You know Hermione's going to expect you to put me in your bachelor party."
"That thought had crossed my mind…"
"Is that your way of asking me?"
"No. Shall I get down on one knee?"
"It's a start."
"Fuck off."
"Sure, Malfoy," Potter smirked, speaking loud enough so Hermione could hear. "I'd love to be in your wedding party."
"You asked Harry!?" Hermione jumped for joy on the other side of the room. Draco stared, horrified, at Harry Potter. That meddling little imbecilic fool. "Oh, Draco! I'm so proud of you!"
"Oy! What about me?" Dean shouted. "I didn't even get a formal invitation to be a groomsman!"
"Thomas," Draco rolled his eyes, "Would you like to be a groomsman?"
"You're damn right I would!" Dean smiled, satisfied. "And I expect that best man invitation soon, mate."
"Potter, the portkey?"
"Right this way, Malfoy."
Azkaban. It was a place meant only for those devious enough to receive an invitation. Murderers, rapists, torturers, followers of Lord Voldemort -they all ended up in the same place. Used to, it was a haunting shell of a prison with only inmates and Dementors as its sole occupants. Now that the Dementor program had been abolished by Kingsley, Azkaban was actually a ray of sunshine compared to its glory days. Draco didn't like it one bit. The prisoners actually got warm meals and interactions with wardens, who took the place of Dementors. It still was a dreadful place, where the smell of piss, shit, and despair lingered in the air like morning dew. He had spent two weeks here when he was seventeen prior to his Wizengamot trial. Then, Dementors still roamed the halls. It was odd to think that he would ever return here again under the circumstances.
An Auror Draco recognised as Reginald Bind greeted him upon arrival, and escorted Aurors Malfoy and Bolt to their interrogation room. Lindy wouldn't stop yammering, so Draco was left listening to the annoying sounds of her as she babbled on about how frightening it was to visit Azkaban.
"I can't believe we're here! I knew that Aurors traded off on their duties to work here, but I've never been assigned here myself. Have you, Auror Malfoy?"
"No." He'd been lucky on that end, too.
"Do you suppose you'll run into someone you know here? Not that I'm insinuating that you'd know someone, but I just thought since you have the Dark Mark on your arm that perhaps you might still know some of the Death Eaters in the holding cells-"
"Lindy. Shut up." He didn't want to think about if he ran into Crabbe Senior. He never planned on facing Vincent's father in the eyes. Bind led them into a square room with white-washed walls and a long table. There were two chairs, one at both sides. "I'm taking the chair, so you… just go stand over there in the corner. Don't speak unless I prompt you to. Understood?"
"Absolutely, Sir." Lindy gave a quick bow and scooted herself to the back wall in the corner near the door. Draco sat his wand in front of him and took a seat at one end of the table, a sudden uproar of anxiousness in his chest. It had been two years since he had last laid eyes on Gregory Diggle, the man who once claimed the title and form of Bastian Cane and nearly ruined Draco's life. If Draco hadn't been paired with Hermione Granger in Auror training that fateful morning, he might have given into Cane's demands eventually and handed over all of his secrets. It had been Diggle's downfall to pair them up together; he hadn't anticipated they might fall in love. And, truth be told, neither had Draco. He had been married to Astoria, after all, and had just been given the gift of Scorpius's birth.
Draco would be so glad when the weekend was up and he could hold his son again. He knew that he had arranged it so that Astoria would have him the entire weekend, but as the tension slowly built up with this new case, a sticky-fingered hug from a two-year-old might just be the cure to Draco's displeased disposition.
"What's he like, sir?" asked Lindy.
"Who?"
"Diggle, sir. Or Cane. I'm not sure what to call him…"
What could he say about Greg Diggle? That he had a sick fascination with Hermione? That his muggle-elitist views were just as unsettling as Voldemort's ideologies on pure blood? That he had murdered his fiancé's husband as a way of burying information and taking out the competition? That he had set Draco up to fall from the beginning? "Bolt, the things I could tell you about this man would make your skin crawl. -He's an arsehole. That's all you need to know. You may call him 'arsehole'."
Lindy giggled into her hand as the door opened, and her laughter died away. A burly looking Auror that Draco didn't recognise entered the room first, dragging a long chain behind him. Attached to that chain were a pair of arms, and attached to that pair of arms was a chiselled face with emerald eyes, unkempt brown hair, and a scruffy beard in desperate need of a trim. Prison had aged him, but when he took a seat at the other end of the table, all Draco could see was the same frightening man that had once threatened the safety of his child. Could he be behind this new development from his comfy cell in Azkaban? Was he somehow a part of the white-wolf masked assailant's plan to take out Draco's family? He couldn't put it past him… but still… he was locked away.
Draco straightened his posture, hand trailing instinctively to his wand. Diggle noticed and placed his shackled wrists atop the table. With a smile, he tilted his head and offered his hands out, palms up. "It's good to see you, Draco. Or… should I say 'Auror Malfoy' now?"
His voice was still that same confident, arrogant tone like the superior Chief Commander he once had been. It made Draco want to lurch over the table and wring his muscular neck.
When Draco opted to say nothing, Diggle spoke again. "How's Hermione?"
That made Draco's fists tighten into fists, and he gritted his teeth together. "We're not here to discuss Hermione, Diggle. I'm sure you've been briefed as to my visit?"
"Somewhat." Diggle nodded slowly. "But I'm very interested to know how our favourite witch is doing. Is she still as fetching as ever?"
Draco's fists slammed down on the table. He heard Lindy shuffle behind him, but she didn't move from her position. The burly Auror in the doorway simply watched on, as if he could care less what Draco might do to Diggle as long as the attack wasn't aimed at him.
"The next time you mention Hermione without my permission, I'll make sure you leave here in a pine box."
Diggle chuckled and folded his hands. "You and I both know that you can't do a thing to me in here. Auror code and all that." He leaned forward. "But, I suppose you'd like to get down to business then. I have to say, I thought I'd be seeing you long before now. Haven't you been dying to know about the stone?"
"Yeah, about that." Draco snapped his fingers, and Lindy scrambled over to him, handing him a thick set of files. He opened the first one up to a picture of Lucius Malfoy. "Last night, my father was attacked by means of that stone. So, wherever you thought you hid it obviously wasn't a good hiding spot."
Diggle raised an eyebrow, eyes scanning over the file. "Interesting… By chance, was your dear daddy's attacker wearing a white wolf mask?"
Of course, Draco thought irritably, Diggle would know all about this. "Do they work for you?"
"Work for me? Heavens no." Diggle shook his head, leaning back in his chair. "But surely you didn't think I was the only criminal with a vendetta against Death Eaters?" He let his eyes roam around the room, taking his time to draw the moment out. Then he set his eyes on Draco as the glistened with satisfaction. "I know you're just dying to know all about them."
"Them? So there's more than one?"
"Oh dear. I've said too much." Diggle smirked.
Draco scowled. "You know, time was when you were on your way to this Hell-hole, you were sorry for your actions. Sitting here across from you, I can't help but to think that was all a ruse."
Diggle shrugged back to his rival. "Just because I'm sorry for my actions doesn't mean my personal feelings towards you have ever wavered. You still stole Hermione from me."
"You never had her, you stupid sod. Hermione never liked you."
"Oh, that's not entirely true, now is it?" Diggle's lips pulled back again in a wide grin. "Before she developed feelings for you, she was actually quite taken with me. Or have you forgotten already?"
No, Draco had not. He remembered searching Hermione's mind that fateful day he had decided to share his contemptible past with her. She had cared about Greg at the beginning, but after developing feelings for Draco, she had cut her ties. The only reason she had dated the prick time after time was to obtain information and distract.
"Let's stop changing the subject. -Tell me about the white-wolf mask."
"Oh, I'll do you one better than that," said Diggle. "I'll tell you where I put the stone."
Draco snorted a laugh. "The stone's been stolen, you imbecile, or haven't you been listening?"
"Has it? Are you sure? Because I'm willing to wager it's exactly where I left it." His green eyes danced with joy at Draco's confused stare. "I tell you what, Auror Malfoy. I'll give you the stone's location. And if it isn't there, I'll tell you everything I know about the person in the white-wolf mask. And if you're wrong, and if the stone is precisely where I tell you, then you owe me one request."
"I don't make deals with prisoners." Draco made to stand, irritated. "You're obviously full of shite."
"Am I? Oh dear. Are you willing to put your son's life in jeopardy over selfish pride? You really are your father's son, aren't you, Draco?"
Draco's back tightened, and he shut the files with a swift motion. "You don't know a thing about my family."
"Again with the lies. We both know that's not true." Green eyes met silver, and Draco made a silent prayer that Diggle wouldn't spill the beans about Lucius's involvement with the stone in front of Bolt. Much to his relief, Diggle left it alone, instead saying, "But if you're really willing to risk it…"
An impossible decision was left in front of Draco: on the one hand, he knew not to trust Diggle. His location could be a trap, or it could be nothing at all. But if it were something, and there was some merit behind Diggle's words, then it would be a game changer, wouldn't it? His thoughts trailed to Scorpius. He didn't want any man in a mask coming after his child. What would be the risk of giving Diggle's suggestion a shot? Besides the obvious injury to his pride, there wasn't much of a threat. He sat back down, crossed his arms, and glared. "What would be your one request?"
Diggle's face parted in a maniacal grin. "So glad you asked."
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How To Train Your Auror 2: Family Ties