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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Onwards, and upwards. We're now at the top of the roller-coaster, and as we look out we can see the vast expanse below. Are you ready?
~A.
You can't bring me down
Already had my life turned upside down
I ride a downward spiral round and round
But I keep flying, I keep fighting
You won't ever bring me down
"Hater" by Korn
His entire world fractured the moment Draco stepped into his son's infirmary room at St. Mungo's. To see the object his world gravitated around sleeping in such a large, white bed, paler than a Malfoy should ever be, with dark circles painted under his eyes… it didn't feel real. This was some poorly drawn caricature of Draco Malfoy's life. It had to be, because to accept the fact that some dark magic dared touch his son at such an early age made the father want to overturn every bit of the Earth until he found the culprit responsible. And then… oh then, he wouldn't use magic. No. Magic would be too good for the bastard that attacked his son. Knives sounded quite spectacular. Knives and razors and pliers to rip out fingernails…
"Draco," Astoria greeted him as he stepped through the threshold, throwing her arms around him. They hadn't hugged like this since the night Tori asked him for a divorce. It felt like a stranger's arms tangled around his torso and not the woman he created such precious life with. Draco felt cold, detached.
"Is he…?" He choked on his words, fighting back the urge to cry. Malfoys didn't shed tears. They cast spells and revenge.
"They say he'll make a full recovery," she told him, burying her face in his chest as small teardrops trickled down her cheeks and stained his robes. Astoria was not a Malfoy, so she could let herself give way to emotions. He envied her at that moment.
Draco looked around the room, spotting Jameson sitting in a hard, wooden chair in the farthest corner. Their eyes met, and both men shared a silent understanding; justice would come. And it would come soon.
"Where's Hermione?" he asked, and felt Astoria stiffen in his arms.
"She didn't come," she whispered back to him, "Stayed behind to report to the Ministry."
His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked over to his son. "That's not like her…"
"It's my fault." Astoria swiped at her tears and pulled away from him. "When Scorpius was seizing in my arms, she touched him. And he just… stopped. Just like that." Her eyes searched his, reminiscent. "I don't know how she did it, and it frightened me. So I snapped. I think she's too afraid to come anywhere near us right now."
Draco kissed Astoria on the forehead, forgiving her. Even if their flames of love had died out years ago, he still would always feel the pull of parenthood driving them together. He pushed past her, then, and stepped up to Scorpius's side, taking the small child's limp hand. He spoke to Astoria, even with his back turned to her. "Hermione will forgive you. She's like that, you know."
"I know." Tori inhaled a shaky breath, fighting back more sobs. "I… I should have thanked her. I don't know how she stopped the seizures, but…"
"Has he woken yet?"
"No. They gave him a sleeping-draught to rest. He won't wake until tomorrow."
"I see…" He bent forward, placed a kiss on his son's forehead, and stood up straight again to turn towards Jameson. "Look after them."
"Of course," Jameson responded, nodding with resolve. "Auror Malfoy, I want to apologize. If I had known that this would happen-"
"You did what you could under the circumstances," he dismissed him. "Don't apologize to me. Just keep them safe."
"You have my word."
Draco turned back to Astoria. "If Hermione comes by, tell her to come to Hogwarts. I need to speak with her."
"I will," she nodded quickly, and, with a melodramatic sniffle, thrust herself back into his arms. Draco stood ridged, attempting to keep it together instead of breaking down like he desperately wanted to. Stay strong, he thought. Don't give in to this. That's what the enemy wants of you. "Please, Draco. Can't you stay a bit longer?"
He tightened his jaw and shook his head. "Believe me, Tori. I want to. But if I'm going to put a stop to this, there are some things I have to attend to."
"What sort of things?"
"Never you mind." He pried her off of him and looked her square in the eyes. "When that boy comes to, don't you shed a tear. Do you understand me? We're his parents. We have to be strong."
"I… yes, you're right."
He cast her a smirk. "Of course, I am. -I'm a Malfoy. And a Malfoy is always right."
"No offence, Mister Malfoy, but you're wrong on this one." Dean crossed his arms, sitting across from the elder Malfoy in the Malfoy Manor study in one of the plush chairs provided. "They're a great match. You'll see."
"My son… to marry a muggleborn." Lucius scoffed. "Cissy, tell me this disease has spread out and I'm to die before their ceremony?"
"Oh, you hush up." Narcissa threw her husband a scathing look as she stepped into the room with a tray of tea. She handed a cup to Dean, and another to Lucius, and sat down beside her husband, a cuppa for herself in her fingertips. "It's bad enough we've come to this point in our lives, Lucius. I'm not to hear a word of your death, do you hear?"
Lucius Malfoy rolled his eyes and glared over at Dean. Despite his arrogant attitude, he didn't look too well. His eyes were worn, tired, and his skin sallow. "Why are you fidgeting?"
"I promised Hermione I'd run her cat back to her house… two hours ago. I had no idea you were going to be released from St. Mungo's so soon."
"So go." The sneer on Lucius's face was prominent. "We don't need you skulking about."
"Sorry, Sir, but I have my orders."
"Your orders, then, are to watch a grown man die a slow and painful," he began to hack, and as he covered his mouth, Dean saw spots of blood splatter the back of his hand, "…death."
"What did I just say?" Narcissa scolded. Dean thought she might offer him a napkin, but instead, she jerked the tea cup out of his hand and slammed it down on the coffee table to her left. "You're incorrigible, Lucius."
"Isn't that why you married me, dear?" The smirk painted across his face as he wiped the back of his hand on his robes was eerily similar to Draco's. It sent a shiver down Dean's spine to know that's where his friend had gotten it from; this prideful, xenophobic man with eyes as cold as ice. "Give me back my tea."
"No. Not until you do as I say and stop talking about such dreary things."
Dean snorted a small chuckle, and the Malfoys looked at him in confusion.
"Is something funny, Auror Thomas?" asked Narcissa.
"I… I just… you two bicker just like they do." He gestured between them. "Draco and Hermione, I mean."
"I assure you, we are nothing like them," scoffed Lucius quietly.
Dean shrugged. "Sure. Whatever you say, Lu – er, Mister Malfoy." He corrected himself when he saw Malfoy Senior look as if he might leap out of his chair and strangle him. "Maybe you two would like to come with me?"
"So we're to run errands with you, now?" Lucius rolled his eyes. "What next? Shall we all dine at dinner together and converse about our day? Perhaps we could pick out some flowers for your funeral as well…" Narcissa smacked him on the arm. "His death, Cissy, not mine."
"I only meant it might give you an opportunity to see Scorpius," Dean offered, palms out. "I know you and Draco don't get on that well. But if you accompany me so I could do this, it might give you the opportunity to see your grandson."
Narcissa threw a disbelieving look. "You would do that for us?"
"Look, I've gotten to know Draco over the last two years. He tries to shake it, but he still has mad love for both of you. Even if he's shut you out of his life, that doesn't mean you're out of his heart. And if you're in his heart, there's always a way back in. I lost my father a few years back. Hurt hard. I don't want him making the wrong choices. I never got to say goodbye, you know?" He scooted back in his chair. "I became an Auror to make a difference. Not just to take in the bad guys -which let me tell you, is Hella fun…" He noticed Lucius's glare and added, "Not that you want to hear about that. Only saying."
"Well, what do you think, Lucius?" Narcissa asked her husband, hope in her voice. "Would you feel up for a day out?"
There was a cold, meticulous way Lucius scowled evenly around the room, weighing the pros and cons of taking advice from a half-blood. Finally, he straightened his posture, gave another subtle cough, and nodded. "For the sake of my grandson, I will accompany you with your errand. We can't let the child be without his new pet, can we?" He cast a smirk, earning a side hug from Narcissa and a kiss on the cheek.
"Good for you, Lucius," she told him. "I'll just go fetch your coat."
"I'll fetch it myself," he told her, bringing himself to stand. "I'm still capable of movement, Cissy. Stop treating me as an invalid."
The blonde socialite pursed her lips but said nothing as she watched her husband cross the room and out to the hallway to gather his coat and cane.
"He's become so stubborn," she whispered, more to herself, Dean imagined, than to him. She must have realized her mistake, because she cast Dean a contemptuous look and added, "You're not to breathe a word of this to anyone. Understood?"
"Missus Malfoy, I wouldn't have anyone to tell," Dean smiled at her warmly, attempting to thaw her frozen heart.
"Didn't I read you were dating the editor of the Quibbler?" Yes, Dean was still dating Luna.
"I just want what's best for my friends. That's all."
"See to it that it is all. I'm sure Lucius could still find a few connections to tear apart your world if word got out about either of his conditions."
"What is exactly wrong…" Dean motioned to his chest. "You know. In here?"
"Besides my husband's calloused heart?" She sighed. "Muggles call it bronchogenic carcinomas. In layman's terms-"
"Lung cancer." Dean nodded. "Yeah. My step-dad teaches pre-med at University."
"I thought you said your father died?"
"My real one, yeah. I didn't know him much. He left my mum when I was little. Thought he was protecting her during the first war."
"How did he die?"
"Murdered." Dean grew quiet for a time and avoided her gaze when he finished his thought. "By Death Eaters."
Narcissa Malfoy shifted nervously in her seat, hands shaking as she set her cup of tea next to her husband's. "I see. This can't be easy for you, then."
"Ma'am?"
"Being here." She waved her hand about the room. "Protecting us. It can't be easy."
Dean bit down on the inside of his cheek, thinking his thoughts out before he spoke. "No ma'am. It's easy as pie. -Your husband didn't kill my Dad. Just like Draco didn't kill Dumbledore. I'm not here to judge people based off of a tattoo on their skin. I've made my fair share of mistakes myself."
"Did you ever find them?" she asked softly. "The ones who murdered your Father?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah. Greg Diggle was the one who brought them in. He inspired me to become an Auror." He tore his gaze down to the ground, looking defeated. "It hurts, sometimes, to know that the person you thought you could trust turns out to be a psychopath and the person who is a good bloke you spent years dogging on. People are never what they seem."
Somehow, Dean had managed to thaw a small bit of that heart, because he saw the woman's lips turn upwards in a genuine smile. "Indeed, Auror Thomas. I seem to be learning that a bit too late in life."
Lucius Malfoy stumbled in the doorway, propped up against a cane with his coat in hand. "If you two hens are done sprucing your feathers and clucking, I'd like to get a move on."
Narcissa smiled, rolled her eyes, and stood up. "Yes, dear. We're coming."
"Will it hurt?" asked Victoria, looking between Draco and Lindy as she sat across from them on the floor of an abandoned Potion's room. McGonagall had guaranteed them privacy while they worked, as this part of Hogwarts had been shut down two years ago due to faulty plumbing. If they wanted to make any bathroom breaks, they'd need to climb three sets of stairs and take a shifting staircase to find the nearest public loo.
Draco shook his head, assuring the child. "No. It'll feel odd, and you're going to want to fight against it. Trust me when I say this will go smoother if you relax. Take a deep breath in," he set an example, inhaling a deep breath, "and out." He released it, watching Victoria (and Lindy) do the same. "Right. Now I need you to focus on the very first dream you had. Can you do that?"
Victoria pinched her eyes closed, nodding. "Yes. Alright. I'm focusing."
"Great."
Draco closed his eyes, pulling down that magical metal shield he almost always enveloped his mind in to keep curious minds out. It was work, always being guarded, but if he wanted to guarantee the safety of others around him from his scientific knowledge, he couldn't take any chances. He wasn't particularly comfortable being around Lindy, but he forced himself to swallow his pride and trust in her. She just better not betray that trust, or he'd rip out her tongue and shove it down her throat.
"You're going to feel a slight prickle. Go with it."
"O-Okay."
A full moon glared against the darkness of the night somewhere off in the distance, casting its pale luminescence through the branches of the trees surrounding Victoria Crabbe. He could feel her anxiousness, her drive to escape the woods. She took off on foot, quickening the pace as she began to dash over logs and branches. A second set of footsteps followed her, snapping branches with their heavy steps.
'No!' Victoria shouted, tripping over a set of devil's snare vines. They wrapped around her foot, locking her in place as someone stepped out of the shadows -someone taller than Draco with a slender frame and a white wolf mask adorned over his face. This was most definitely a man, Draco noted, by the body style, and the cold, unfamiliar voice that whispered, 'Fly.'
"No!" The real Victoria screamed, trying to slam her mind closed.
"Stop it," Draco scolded her, "You're doing well, Crabbe, don't muck it up now."
"I… alright."
"Think of the second dream."
Her mind shifted, and now she was standing out by the lake near Hogwarts, her toes dipping in the cold water as she read a book. Her head popped up when she caught something white out of the corner of her eye- a white wolf standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It bared its teeth, and she screamed. 'Come out and play, little dove!' a deep, ominous voice rang through the air.
"Good, Victoria. Now the last dream. Show me the newest one."
"Please, Auror Malfoy. Please don't make me."
Her eyes shot open, and Draco was thrown from her mind at once. He pried his eyes open, glaring. "What the Hell is wrong with you?"
"Auror Malfoy!" Lindy scolded him. "That's no way to talk to a young lady!"
"Show me the last dream," he snarled. "Now."
"I can't." She shook her head over and over again.
"Do you want those memories of your brother or not?" Draco snapped. Victoria's face softened, and she nodded meekly.
"But… The last one. It was so frightening."
He sighed, knowing his anger was getting the best of him. He tried a gentler approach. "My son was attacked today, Victoria. Attacked, in his home, the way you've been attacked night after night. I can't stop what's happening to either of you unless you show me everything."
"How old is your son?" she asked. "What's his name?"
"Scorpius is two." He bore his eyes into hers. "Do you understand, now, the urgency? I vow to you, Victoria, just as I've vowed to him -I'm going to stop this madness. But I can't do it alone. Help me." He gave out a long, disgruntled breath. "Help me, please."
The room was silent for a time before Victoria nodded and closed her eyes back shut. "Alright. Let's do this."
Draco smirked. "That's the spirit."
Victoria stood in a small, disorderly room that smelled thick of dust and rotted wood. The wallpaper looked peeled from years of abandon, and there were bits of broken furniture scattered about the room. The windows were boarded, leaving the only way in or out to be a wooden door, where a tall figure in flowing white robes stood. From here, the look of the mask was clearer -it wasn't just painted to look like a wolf, but shaped that way as well, with a snout that protruded outwards and slanted holes for eyes. The man behind the mask tilted his head, standing silent as the grave.
'What do you want!?' Victoria shouted at him, stomping her feet. 'Leave me alone! Tell me what you want!'
'I want you to come and play, little dove. Won't you fall from that nest and learn to fly already?'
'What does that even mean?'
The man began to change; his body hunched over as his robes transformed to fur and his mask became the actual face of a large, white wolf that bared its fangs and snapped its teeth at the child. 'I grow tired of this! Fly!'
Victoria jumped backwards, tripping over a broken table leg and falling back on her elbows. 'I don't know what that means!' she sobbed as the wolf approached her. She threw herself back in fear, and her head smacked hard against the rotted floorboards. The wolf climbed atop her, golden eyes boring into her soul. 'I will find you,' that same threatening voice vibrated through the room. 'You will come. And when you do, I will show you.' The wolf lunged forward, teeth bared and ready to sink his teeth in-
"Ahhh!" the real Victoria screamed, and Draco brought himself back out of her head just as Lindy threw her arms around the girl to comfort her. Thick sobs spilled from Victoria, and she pried her eyes open, looking hopeful. "Did I do it? Did you get what you needed?"
Draco rose to stand, turning the vision this way and that in his mind. "Yes…" He nodded, smirking down at her. "You did wonderfully, Crabbe."
"What now?"
"Now, Auror Bolt and I need to have a little chat to ourselves."
"But…" Victoria frowned. "What about what you promised me? About my brother? About Vincent?"
Draco offered his hand out and tugged the girl to her feet, patting her head. "Auror business first. Then, I give you my word that I will uphold my end of our bargain."
"Truly?"
"I wouldn't lie to you, Crabbe," Draco smirked, reminiscent of all the times he'd said that to her brother, knowing good and well it was a lie. But not this time. This time, he spoke only the truth. "Now off you get to bed." He brushed some tears off her cheeks with the back of his sleeve and ushered her to the door. "Ah. Almost forgot." He pulled out a small phial from his pockets and handed it to her. "Sleeping draught of my own concoction. You'll sleep dream free; I can promise you that."
"Really?" the girl took the bubbling green liquid, hope filling her eyes. "Are you sure?"
"I've had a nightmare a time or two in my life. Eventually, I had to get over them, but in the meantime, this helped. You'll wake up fully refreshed and ready for a new day."
"Th-Thank you, Auror Malfoy." Victoria beamed at him. "You're nowhere near as bad as my Mum said you'd be."
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Crabbe, we should work on what you believe passes as a compliment next go-around."
"Sorry." Her smile didn't falter. "And tomorrow, you promise to show me how to get rid of these dreams? Once and for all?"
"If you promise to get a good night's rest."
"Yessir!" She wrapped her arms around him, knocking Draco off balance with the sheer force of her hug. He looked over to Bolt, who gave him an encouraging smile, and he patted the eleven-year-old on the top of her head. She released him and waited as Lindy gathered her things to walk the child back to her dormitory.
"What's the plan?" Bolt whispered to him as she passed.
"Meet me by the Great Lake in twenty."
"Yessir!" Lindy gave the same enthusiasm that Victoria had and waved goodbye to him as she and Crabbe left, shutting the door behind them.
Draco waited a few minutes until he knew that they'd be gone, gathered up his things, placed them into his satchel, and headed up the winding steps of the dungeons, sorting through his thoughts. If he was right about this, it could change everything.
"Hermione, I don't feel comfortable with this," Harry muttered under his breath as followed her down the long corridor. "You shouldn't be here."
"I have to be," she told him. "I can't sit around and let everyone do the investigation without me." She couldn't bring herself to go to St. Mungo's. Not after the sweeping glare that Astoria had given her. She couldn't join Draco at Hogwarts. She couldn't do anything but this. This was what she could contribute, and she'd do it, Harry be damned.
"Hermione-"
"Harry! Let me do this!" she all but shouted at him, and he fell silent as she turned the brass knob of the interrogation room and stepped inside.
Across the room, seated at the opposite end of a long, wooden table, arms crossed and eyes trained on the door as it opened, sat Gregory Diggle. "Well, well." He smiled, uncrossing his arms to place them on the table, palms up. "They told me I'd be receiving some new visitors. I had no idea it would mean you."
"That's not entirely true, is it?" She took a seat at the chair closest to her as Harry filtered inside and shut the door behind him. "I think we both knew it would come to this, eventually."
Diggle flashed her his set of pearly whites, emerald eyes glistening back at her. "I wouldn't say I knew, but I had hoped."
She slammed her hand down on the table and thrust her other hand out to Harry. "The letter." Harry gave it to her, and Hermione placed extended it out for Greg to see. "Your letter, to be precise, Diggle. You gave it to Draco to take with him when he left, do you remember?"
"Of course," he nodded. "I had no idea it would reach you so soon." His eyes told a different story. "You haven't opened it."
"No." She crossed her arms. "And I won't. Not unless you tell me everything. And I mean it, Greg. Everything you know about this white wolf."
"That wasn't the agreement," he nearly sing-songed.
"Wrong. The agreement was that I was to receive a letter, and only I was to read it. Well, I'm choosing not to open up this letter unless you spill the beans. And not just that trivial trite you'd settle on if I weren't here. All of it. Now. Or I'll light this on fire so fast you'll be breathing in its ashes before you blink."
She brought out her wand and touched it to the edge of the letter. Diggle straightened his back and narrowed his eyes. "I wouldn't if I were you." He offered out his cuffed hands. "I'll talk, alright, Hermione? Just… don't burn it. Please." He looked almost defeated. "I've spent many-a-night in the last two years thinking about how I wanted to tell you. Please." His voice softened to a whisper. "Please, just read it."
"Talk."
"Alright." He folded his hands and wrung them together. "Alright, Hermione. You win. I'll tell you everything. But I warn you -you won't enjoy what I have to say one bit."
- 8
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How To Train Your Auror 2: Family Ties