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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Drum roll... can't wait for you guys to get done with this chapter. A very special thanks to WayMay, again, for helping me perfect this. 3 Love you, Way.
~A.
Don't wanna call you in the nighttime
Don't wanna give you all my pieces
Don't wanna hand you all my trouble
Don't wanna give you all my demons
You'll have to watch me struggle
From several rooms away
But tonight I'll need you to stay.
"The Run and Go" by Twenty One Pilots
"Malfoy, I can't just give you access to the Department of Mysteries."
Draco stared, dumbfounded, across the desk from Harry Potter. "Listen, Potter-" he began, realising the fact that they were in the bullpen and that he would have to refer to his superior as 'Auror' around present company. Before Potter could open his mouth, he corrected himself, "Auror Potter. You and I both know that Diggle is an untrustworthy sod, but you have to believe me. He wants to get this letter to Hermione, and he wouldn't risk it. So, shove protocol up the arse and give me clearance."
Harry blinked back at him. "Are you done?"
"I'd say so."
"Good. As I was saying, I can't just give you access to the D.O.M. -I'll have to accompany you." He stood from his desk, pushed his chair in, and began to rummage through a side drawer. Draco smirked, relieved that, for once, Potter wasn't going to give him shit about following a lead. He watched the scarhead pull out a set of long, black keys from somewhere deep inside the drawer and waggle them in front of his face. "Look, I just want to say I appreciate the fact that you're going to Hogwarts on such short notice. I know we're working this case, but if Victoria Crabbe is connected on some deeper level, we need to know how."
"I know," Draco replied quietly, swallowing a bit of vomit that threatened to upchuck. He still didn't like the idea of meeting Crabbe's younger sister one bit. Perhaps she'd never heard his name before, and he could have a clean start of things. Yeah, and maybe he'd ask Potter to be his best man. Ha. As if. -He began to follow Potter as he led the way through the Auror Division and to the set of elevators in the hallway. As they stepped inside, Draco attempted conversation. "Hermione says I should stop giving you nicknames."
"Does she?" Potter cracked a smile as he pressed the basement level 9 and inserted one of the black keys into a slot next to the button. This particular key was jagged and looked quite old, though it couldn't have been considering these new key protocols became implemented just a few short years ago. The elevator, upon the key's turn, lit to life and began its slow descent to the bottom level.
Draco leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. "She doesn't like me calling you scarface."
"I don't like you calling me scarface."
"Sure you do. It gives you comfort."
"How in Merlin's name would you being a git give me comfort?"
"Because, you know if I'm ever just peachy-keen polite to you, it's not me, and someone with polyjuice potion has most likely replaced me."
"Fair statement." Harry shrugged. The lights in the elevator began to flicker, but Potter ignored them as if this were common for the power to drain. Draco didn't feel at ease at all. In fact, he rather wanted to piss himself. He didn't, but the urge was certainly there. "I can't believe he hid the stone in the Department of Mysteries…" Potter mirrored Draco, crossing his arms. "If it's really there, that means it's been here the entire time."
"Great. You know how to point out the obvious." Draco rolled his eyes. "All I can say is it better be there because this is taking time away that I could be spending with my son."
"How is Scorpius doing?" Harry's voice was genuine. "I don't think I've seen him since Christmas."
"He's adjusting… This past year, I've taken on a lot more cases than I did before and can see he's trying to wrap his head around why I don't have a normal schedule. How do your children cope with you gone all the time?"
Potter looked surprised at the question, but covered it up quickly and said, "Well, Ginny and I put James in Nursery school when he was younger, and now Albus goes as well. James recently graduated into Reception. I could, you know, have Ginny send Astoria some pamphlets on the school if you're interested."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Sure."
The two men stood in silence as the elevator creaked and groaned its way down until it gave a hearty jerk and stopped. Potter removed the key, slipped the set into his pockets, and nodded. "Well, let's get this over with then."
"Lead the way."
He'd never been inside the Department of Mysteries before, so when Draco took in the sight of the elusive black room with its circular design and blue-flamed candles interspersed along the walls, he felt a tad overwhelmed. The flames flickered about, reflecting off of the black marble floor. Draco's eyes played tricks on his mind, giving the illusion of water at their feet, and for a moment he feared treading on the floor. But when Potter stepped forward, he could hardly let his dread grip him, and he crossed the threshold. The floor, much to his relief, was perfectly safe, and he followed quickly after Potter to the handle-less black doors that surrounded them. Draco heard the rumours; that Potter had lost his godfather in one of the rooms hidden behind these doors. Draco knew how he'd feel if he ever were forced to step inside of the Room of Requirements again; this couldn't be easy for Potter. But one would never know it by looking at him- Harry pushed his hand out to the farthest door on the left and looked back at Draco to follow.
As they stepped inside the door, it slammed shut, and before them stood a vast, rectangular room with twinkling lights that danced in sparkles across the walls. Tables spread along them; on top were clocks, pocket watches, and an array of random timepieces.
"Time room," explained Potter, pointing around to the different tables. "Used to have time turners, but they've since found themselves in a time loop." He gestured to the end of one of the tables, where a set of time turners regularly appeared at the end of a table, fell, and disappeared to find themselves at the top of the table once more. "At the end of this Hall will be the Hall of Prophecy."
"Shouldn't there be more personnel?"
"The Ministry's budget has been hurting since The Takeover cleanup. A lot of people were deflected to other departments to make up for the lack of staff." Potter pushed open the door at the end of the hall while Draco stared at a particularly brilliant bit of light spilling from a bell jar at the end of the longest table near them. He felt drawn like a moth to a flame, but Potter thrust out his hand and waved it in front of his face, knocking his senses back to reality. "Whatever you do, do not touch that."
"What is it?"
"No clue. But the last person that touched it disengaged."
"Got it. Don't touch the glowing-jar-of-death."
He followed Potter into the next room, which stunned him even more. The Hall of Prophecy had been described only once to him by his father, but even that description didn't come close to the grandeur of the rows upon rows of glowing blue orbs that sat on their shelves, gathering dust. The Manor library was nothing compared to the towering shelves that shined in this room. Even more candles rested in their brackets, reflecting off of the orbs. Draco immediately felt the temperature change, and noted that he could see his breath as he said, "Nineteenth row, nine shelves up."
"Do you think that the numbers are significant?" asked Harry, lighting the tip of his wand with a quick 'lumos' to lead them as he counted the rows.
Draco had mulled this around in his head, and the only logical explanation that he could come up with made his skin crawl. "It's Hermione's birthday. September nineteenth."
Potter stopped dead in his tracks, turned on the balls of his feet, and stared Draco in the eyes. "That's one of the most disturbing theories I've ever heard."
"It's the only one that fits. -And we both know how obsessed he was with her. Still is, as a matter of fact. So let's just get this damn stone and never mention the birthday thing to Hermione, got it? The last thing she needs is to add Diggle's fanatical endearments to the list of stresses this case already has."
"For once, I agree with you." Harry nodded and then began to take point again, counting. He stopped at eighteen, turned his head towards Draco, and said, "To brief you, this is going to be a difficult task. If you touch a prophecy that's not meant for you, it'll make you go blimey."
"You're just now telling me this? What if I had touched one? What then, Potter?"
"Well, then I guess I wouldn't be renting a tux for your wedding," Potter smirked. "When we find the ninth shelf, we'll levitate the orbs."
"Fine. The sooner this is done with, the better." They made their way to the nineteenth row and counted their way up to the ninth shelf. Draco scowled, looking at the mantelpiece with concern. "Would have been nice if he had told us what brilliant orb he decided to put it behind."
"Going by your theory, I'd say the seventy-ninth one."
Draco opened his mouth to argue, but Potter's suggestion fit the mould. September 19th, 1979. A constant reminder that she was older than him. They walked the length of the shelf, counting carefully out loud each and every orb until they made it to their assumed goal. Potter levitated the orb, while Draco handled the task of accio-ing anything that he could see behind it. Lo and behold, a small, cubed box unnervingly resembling the first design of Draco's Pandora Box floated down from the shelf. He levitated it to their feet and stared down at the wondrous square. Draco came prepared, pulling out a set of dragon hide gloves from his pockets; he slipped them onto his hands and carefully plucked the box off the floor and between his fingertips. He offered it out between them, pried open the top…
And right there, giving off its brilliant cobalt glow, was the Pandora Stone.
A mixture of emotions found their way into Draco's chest; relief at finding the stone, agitation at it being right under their nose for two years, and frustration, because now they had no other leads as to the attack on his father Friday evening. Could there be two stones? What did Diggle know? Question after question presented itself, and Draco felt, for a moment, as if he might explode. Merlin, Hermione's curious nature was rubbing off on him, wasn't it?
"How do we know it's the real one?" asked Potter. His voice didn't hold suspicion, but simply authentic concern.
Draco stared down at the stone, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. "I'd need to run some experiments… Do you think Hogwarts could set me up a room?"
"You don't expect just to carry the stone around with you," Potter asked, levitating the prophecy back to its appropriate spot on the shelf.
"Tell me. Do you or anyone else know this stone as I do? Not even Diggle could say as much. So, if you want to leave it in the hands of some Ministry official, who's going to get himself harmed, by all means. But you'll be the tosser that let it happen." He snapped the box shut and offered it out to Harry. "Your call, Potter."
Harry looked down at the box, back up to Draco, and sighed. "Fine. I'm entrusting you with it, Malfoy. You're going to be around children. Remember that. -I'll go get those answers from Diggle."
"What?" No way. He's my witness-"
"You have your assignment. I'm perfectly capable of handling Greg. Quit trying to take on the entire case by yourself. -You have friends, Draco. Remember that. This concerns all of us, not just you."
Draco snorted a sardonic laugh. "Yeah? Tell me, is your family being threatened in their beds at night? Can you honestly say you know what I'm going through?"
"Of course I can," Harry snapped, his voice careening at Draco like a violent wave. "I'm the head of the Auror Department! I have a target on my back every day! I just don't wear my fear around on my sleeve like some!" He glared daggers, and Draco took a step back. "For as long as I can remember ever since coming into my magic, I've never had a moment of rest! So, you know what, Malfoy? How about you get out of that incredibly large ego of yours and remember that you're not the victim unless you make yourself the victim." He came down from his outburst, the anger leaving his face as quick as it had come. He paused a moment, flexing the hand that didn't hold his wand. "You can't think that way, alright?" He sounded reflective. "The moment you do, you've isolated yourself. I would have never defeated Voldemort if it weren't for countless others. People that gave their lives. People that sacrificed so much… But I always had help. Ron. Hermione. Dean. Luna. Neville. Even you. I'd never have made it this far without any of you. So, for once in your life, could you take off the burdens and divvy them up between all of us? You're not going at this alone, and the sooner you realise that the less likely you are of screwing this all up." He thrust out his hand between them. "Got it?"
His heart beating wildly in his chest, Draco stared down at the calloused, square hand and thought about Harry's words. He'd never considered reaching out and burdening others with what he thought were his responsibilities. He just wasn't raised that way. The Malfoys were a family of secrets, scheming, and always staying one step ahead. They never relied on anyone because, according to his father, it made a man weak. But he had made something of himself in these last two years, hadn't he? And he hadn't done it alone. He wasn't the one to take down Diggle -they all were. The thought of putting his burdens on someone else… he didn't know if he could stomach it. He'd done it once, and look how that had turned out? Half of the Ministry torn to shreds, and the weight of falling in love with someone whom he knew he could never deserve. Conflict burned within Draco, and just to appease Potter, he took his hand and shook. "I expect a full report of what he tells you."
"The same goes for your end," Potter agreed. "Find out what you can with Victoria. Protect the students at all costs. I'll have the Headmistress open up a floo in your room so that we can communicate."
"Fine." Draco dropped Harry's hand and rubbed his dragon gloves along his robes, wiping away any bit of sweat. Potter gave him an incredulous look, and he quickly explained, "I don't want to expose the stone to anything. Not until I know if it's the real thing or not."
"Right… Well, let's get out of here, alright? The last time I was in here, I gave your dad a run for his money. I'm not too fond of the memories in this place."
"Neither is my father."
They began towards the exit at once. Draco slipped off one of the dragon hide gloves, stowed the box inside of it, and tucked it safely into his pocket.
"So you found it?" Hermione sighed into the receiver of her cell phone as she bounced Scorpius up and down on her knees. She'd brought the blonde back to Astoria's as promised, but without Draco here, the child was less than happy. He'd taken to throwing his toys around the room with an accidental spout of magic when she'd told him that Daddy had to leave immediately for work, and his attitude wasn't much better now. "Are you sure it's the one?"
"Malfoy's going to run some tests at Hogwarts," Harry said, his voice crackling over the static air.
"Is he with you now?"
"Yeah. Gimme a moment. –Hey, Malfoy! Hermione wants to speak to you." There was a crinkle of sound, and then an agitated, "Confound it all, Hermione, you know how I hate using these blasted things."
"Yes, well they're much more efficient than an owl," Hermione muttered, turning her face down to Scorpius. "Daddy's on the phone. Would you like to speak to him?"
"No." Scorpius crossed his arms. "I mad."
"He's what? What'd you do?"
"I didn't do anything, Draco. He's mad that you left in such a hurry."
"…Put me on the Sonorus and let me talk to him."
"Oh, we've been over this. It's called a speaker phone." She pressed the button. "You're on."
"Scorp. It's your Father." She could hear Draco attempt his best Lucius impression. "Stop misbehaving and listen to your mothers. Both of them."
"I mad," the child said again, looking down to the little black box in his mother's hand. "You no play me!"
"I had to go to work, Scorpius. You know this is what I do for a living. I'm stopping the bad guys, remember?"
"Daddy's like a super-hero," Hermione told him with encouragement.
Scorpius pouted his lip. "Want Daddy home. Now."
Draco sighed. "I can't do that, mate. I'm sorry. But I promise you, as soon as I come home, I'll make it up to you. Honeydukes. Quidditch match. Whatever you want, Scorp. But I need you to be a big boy for me right now, alright? I love you."
Scorpius's pout dropped into a quivering lip. "Daddy come back?"
Hermione jumped in quickly. "Of course, he's coming back, sweetheart. And it's alright to miss him."
"But it's not okay to disobey because of it."
Astoria came into the room, carrying a tray of tea. Jameson followed behind her, donned in a tailored tweed ensemble that brought out the amber flecks in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to vomit as he took his seat next to her and was forced to hold her hand in an adoring manner. "He's one to talk, isn't he?" chimed in Astoria. "Considering all that man ever does is act out when he doesn't get his way. And then he expects more from a two-year-old?" She laughed.
"I can hear you, Tori."
"Good. Serves you right.- I've got it on this end, Draco. I put up with your foul temper for years. I think I can handle the terrible twos."
Hermione giggled into the back of her hand. "She's got you."
"Yeah, yeah…" Draco grumbled. "You hear me, young man? No acting out while I'm gone. I expect a good report or no sweets."
"Awwww!" Scorpius whined. "I good!"
"Then act like it. I love you."
"Love you, Daddy!"
"We all do," said Hermione. "Be careful, alright?"
"Since when am I not careful?"
"Don't even get me started-"
"It was a joke, Hermione. Settle down. I'll floo you tonight when I've settled. –I love you."
"I love you, too."
"Stupid witch."
"Arrogant prat."
There was another fumble over the airwaves, with Draco muttering, "How do I turn this stupid thing off?" and then a click. The line went dead. Hermione smiled to herself as she ended her call and stared down to Scorpius, whose disposition changed substantially since talking to his father. He, now, wore a sly smile on his face, as if he were trying ever so hard to look like he was 'good'.
"Honestly, that man babies our child more than I do. Who is wearing the skirt in this family, anyway?" Astoria ran her fingers along the hem of her long, emerald dress and winked over to Hermione to soften the witch's growing apprehension.
"If anyone, I'd say it's Jameson," Hermione replied gracefully, leaving Theodore in a puddle of bright red embarrassment oozing on top of the divan. The doorbell rang, and immediately the Auror sprang to life from the sofa, wand clutched in his hand. He narrowed his eyes and looked between the two witches.
"Either of you expecting company?"
"It might be Dean with the K.I.T.T.E.N." Hermione glanced down at Scorpius and up to the adults. "I told him I'd be by here." She stood and made to cross the room, but Jameson was trailing behind her like a dog at her heels. She sighed, saying over her shoulder, "I can handle this, Theo."
"Perhaps, but my instructions from Auror Potter were quite clear: I was to protect anyone inside the Greengrass Estate. So, under statute 437, I must accompany you to the door."
Hermione rolled her eyes and led the way through the curving hallways to the front door. She reached for the handle, but stopped herself last moment and drew her wand, looking to Jameson. "As a precaution."
"Of course." Jameson nodded. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate it if you'd allow me to open the door as well, Auror Granger."
If looks could kill, Jameson would be in a pine box right about now, but she stepped aside and allowed him to take point at the door, and with a jerk, he twisted the handle to swing it open. The hazel in his eyes darkened, and with a conservative stance he raised his wand and stepped outside. Hermione, who couldn't see outside from her current position, readied her wand and stepped through the threshold.
What she saw, she could never un-see.
Scattered amongst the vast, flat plains of the front courtyard were the bloodied, mangled remains of some orange and white animal. As she focused her eyes, she realised they were foxes -dozens of foxes dead and bleeding from their mouths. Their beady black eyes stared vacantly up to the sky. Hermione put her hand up to her mouth to stifle a scream, and she rushed out to the courtyard, Jameson on her heels.
"Miss Granger! Stop! You mustn't-!"
But Hermione had already fallen to her knees beside the closest fox, waving her wand over the limp body in an attempt to detect life. But she could tell by the smell alone -these were long since dead. "Oh God…" Nausea overtook her, and she turned her head, vomiting her morning breakfast. Jameson stood by her side, patting her on the back but kept his wand drawn and eyes out across the field. When she had nothing left to give, she wiped the back of her mouth with her sleeve and glanced up at Theodore. "Who would do this? Who would kill all of these innocent creatures?"
"Miss Granger, we should get you indoors until I've contacted the Ministry."
Hermione tried her best to use her professional brain instead of allowing herself to succumb to the pain she felt at all of the dead creatures in front of her. She looked out across the field, and that's when she saw it: they weren't just scattered about. There were seven rows, distinctly, with four each. She jumped to her feet and began to count to confirm. Jameson stayed on her heels, catching on, quickly scoring with her. "Twenty-six… Twenty-seven… Twenty-eight." With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she counted the last fox. "Twenty-eight. Twenty-eight foxes. Jameson—do you know what this means?"
Together, they exclaimed, "The sacred twenty-eight!"
A scream erupted from inside the Manor, and before Hermione could register it, Jameson was already off at a sprint towards the front door. Wand clutched tight in her fingers, Hermione took off as well, following the screams as she burst inside all the way to the family den, where Scorpius lay collapsed in his mother's arms, convulsing.
And so begins the fall down the rabbit hole.
~A.
- 6
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- 8
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How To Train Your Auror 2: Family Ties