The Attack
Draco fumed at his current informant. A short message was sent to him this afternoon from the former Auror, trying to order him into an urgent meeting. Draco had been tempted to shut down the request and flat-out refuse, but due to the urgency, Draco reluctantly agreed. With a changed time and place, Draco now sat sipping a scotch in a muggle bar just outside of London.
He felt it the second Dawlish approached him, his sweaty palms landing on the bar next to him, frantically waving at the bartender for a drink.
Draco felt his distaste for the man rise, how much did he really need him? The truthful answer to that question was not that much. He’d gone through a few black market suppliers before finding Dawlish and Draco was sure there were more out there, willing to conform to his practices for the right price tag.
The bartender came over and set down a tumbler full of whiskey in front of Dawlish, just for him to reach out with a shaky hand and down the entire glass in one swig.
Draco felt disgusted, his desire to cut the supplier loose climbing. “So, you called this meeting. Care to explain why?” Draco’s voice was cold as he occluded to control his anger, eying the sweaty man.
Dawlish looked around the bar frantically, “Are you sure it’s safe to speak here?” his voice nearly a whisper.
Draco’s eyebrow arched as he looked over him, “Yes,” he drawled, unentertained, to say the least.
Dawlish nodded, “She approached me today, asking questions about missing reports,”
Draco rolled his eyes, “Who?”
“Granger! The auror I was telling you about, looking into the missing dragon eggs,” shit, that would explain why Dawlish seemed so on edge. “’Cept, it seems like she knows a whole lot more than just about the missing Dragon eggs, Malfoy. She’s on to something, and she’s like a dog with a bone, she is,”
Draco’s eyes narrowed at the slight, nodding with him, Shit, she was a lot closer to this entire thing than he thought she was, he needed to get eyes on her as soon as he could. His pride and possessiveness had stopped him from stationing anyone to watch her work within the ministry, “I’ll take care of it, but for now, stop any activities you have going. I’ll switch suppliers in the meantime,”
Draco threw back the rest of his scotch, getting to his feet, when Dawlish stood with him.
“No, no, you can’t go to any other suppliers, we had an agreement!” Dawlish turned beet red looking at him, ready to fight.
Draco grabbed his coat turning to leave the entitled wanker, “Besides, I got a guy on Granger as it is, the problem will be taken care of tonight,” He froze midstep.
He had been ready to let Dawlish walk away and continue on with his ministry position, maybe with an anonymous tip regarding his illicit activities.
Draco slowly turned back to the arrogant bastard, “What the fuck did you just say?”
Dawlish froze, his eyes widened, adams apple bobbing in his throat.
Draco took a slow step towards the table, “What did you fucking do?” His voice was low as he reapproached the table.
Dawlish’s sweaty demeanor paled as he looked up at Draco towering over him, “I-I,” then the babbling started, “I took care of it, s-she shouldn’t be an issue after today,”
Draco’s hand flashed out, grabbing the coward by the throat and apparating them suddenly to the back of the muggle bar, “She is the woman I intend to marry,” Draco used his throat to throw him into the wall, holding him there until his struggle to breath began to turn his face red.
Dawlish gasped for breath, scratching at Draco’s hand, “I thought all the stuff with the prophet and courting was how you were getting close to her to take her out!” Dawlish screeched the words while he struggled against him.
Draco switched his grip to Dawlish’s collar, pinning him against the wall, “That woman will be the mother of my children,” Dawlish gasped for breaths, throat finally released from Draco’s grip, “Now, you’ll tell me exactly what moronic resemblance of a plan you’ve set into motion,”
Hermione sighed, rubbing her hands down her face, trying to fight off the exhaustion from a long day. After an emergency hearing by the Wizengamot, her proposal to place a tail on Dawlish was almost rejected. Luckily, with just the amount of votes she needed, the proposal passed, and a tail was officially assigned, albeit with orders to only observe and report. Now they just needed to wait and see what it turned up.
Between that and going through seemingly every scrap of paper the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures turned over, she was swimming in paperwork.
Hermione finally looked at her watch, only to realize it was nearly nine at night. Resolving to call it a day, she gathered up her files, locking them into her already overflowing cabinet before gathering her things to leave.
Her scar was burning fiercely now, ever since she’d watched Malfoy climb on the elevators it had started building slowly. But when he was in her office, holding onto her, it had subsided. Even that morning, just being with him in her office, seemed like enough to agitate it. Rubbing the obscene mark through her shirt to try and calm the pain, she was confused. It was a Black curse that had placed the mark on her, his touch should agitate it more, shouldn’t it? But the second he walked away, it continued to get worse.
Quickly walking down the hall, Hermione continued on her normal daily route outside the ministry, the streets were flooded with people as she made her way to pick up takeout from her favorite Indian restaurant. As she walked towards her flat, the crowds dropped off, leaving her footsteps to echo off the cobblestones alone.
With every step she tapped through the darkness, down the alley, she started to notice an additional tapping behind her. It continued down the alley and turned after her, getting closer until every step she took until she heard the answering echo from two pairs of feet behind her. The businesses along the alley were empty until she noticed a pub coming up, with three men drinking a pint outside.
Hermione’s heart began speeding up as she neared them, they didn’t look like friends enjoying an ale after work. The way they sat, monitoring her walk and glancing over every few steps she would take, they looked almost staged there. Waiting for something.
The steps tapping out behind her continued to get louder as she approached the pub. She had never paid much mind to divination in all its silliness, but one didn’t need to be a seer to realize what they were waiting on.
Fifty feet from the pub, the men glanced over. One of their hands slipped under the table, their ales forgotten.
Thirty feet from the pub, Hermione reached into her sleeve, casually palming her wand, take-out bag hanging in her hand.
Ten feet from the pub, the tapping of footsteps behind her grew too close for comfort. The eyes of the three men at the table all trained on her. Magic began to hum through the air until it felt like a powder keg, ready to blow from the slightest spark. Hermione could hear her blood rushing in her ears, patiently walking, waiting for the men to strike first.
Five feet from the pub, the powder keg blew.
Hermione felt the heat from stunning strikes at her back first, pulling out her wand just in time to cast a protego, blowing the stuns back towards her attackers.
The three men at the pub had jumped to their feet to join the two attackers at her back, leaving her surrounded by the men.
Hermione turned to the side, stepping until her back faced the wall of the alley surrounding them. Spells flew through the air from her attackers while she deflected each one in turn. Wand flying, she blocked their spells, throwing back what she could from where she was cornered.
Her world stilled until all Hermione knew was the rythm of spells flying at her.
Block. Block. Stun. Protego.
Pulse roared in her ears, every instinct screaming at her, the longer they had her backed into a corner, the less of a chance she stood of walking away.
Block. Block. Stun. Protego.
One of the men that was sitting at the pub hesitated.
“Incarcerous,” The curse bound the hesitating man.
He dropped to the ground and the men around him moved in tandem to fill the hole he left. Professionals. Their spells becoming more aggressive. One of them threw a bombarda.
Hermione threw up her hands and a protego, the blast blowing her hair around her, her face stinging from a piece of shrapnel that blew under her sheild. Their attacks paused j in the cloud left behind and she saw her chance.
“Oppugno,” The tables from the pub behind her attackers flew through the air, slamming the two attackers on her right. They hit the ground hard, she winced hearing one of their heads hit the ground like an overripe melon.
Block. Block. Block. Hermione took a step toward her remaining two attackers, their spells becoming erratic as they realized their disadvantage.
“Deprimo,” The two men remaining were blown off their feet from the explosion she shot at the ground below them, “Sectum sempra,” The spell shot like a snake striking from her wand, slicing a path through the prone attacker.
The last one stumbled to his feet while Hermione struck down the other.
“Avada Kedavera,” The last man flung the curse towards her.
The words were her only warning, Hermione barely lept out of the way before she heard a pop in the alley behind him. His head moving to look back, just enough, “Stupify,”
Her last attacker was blown back, hitting the wall across from her and crumpling to the ground. She turned down the alleyway to the man who apparated in, wand at the ready.
A familiar blond approached her carefully, his wand up and ready, “Hermione!” his pace quickened, his brows down and drawn together, almost concerned-looking.
She jolted a step back, wand still pointed at him, “Malfoy, what are you doing here?”
He paused a few steps in front of her, hands up “I’m here because you were attacked, put your wand down,”
Hermione blinked at him, shaking her head, “How’d you know?”
“Because I did,” He growled, his teeth clenched together “Now, put your wand down, you’re shaking,”
Hermione eyed her own hand, shaking as the adrenaline ran through her veins. She shook her head again, “Not good enough,”
His hand ran over his face, “For the love of--,” Malfoy tucked his wand away in his robes, “Better?”
Hermione’s shaking worsened as she lowered her wand slightly, taking a breath, “No, how’d you know where I was?”
Malfoy scowled, “I’ll explain later, now please,darling, put your wand away,”
Hermione gasped for breath, realizing how winded she was during the battle, shaken at the targeted attack. Malfoy stepped closer to her, hands out like he was trying to pet a skittish unicorn. His face softened “It’s OK love, I promise it’s OK now,” he gently took her hand, sliding closer an inch at a time until he was drawing her into his arms, “It’s ok, love,”
Hermione shook as her adrenaline ran out, unable to think, unable to do anything but wrap her arms around him, burying her face into his chest. If he had avada’d her in the back, it wouldn’t have mattered, she would have died happy surrounded by his wonderful scent. She felt his face in her hair, while he smoothed the tangled mass down her back, he whispered into her head, “It’s OK, it’s going to be OK,” She felt his face nuzzle in farther and his arms wrap ever more tightly around her, holding her to him.
She didn’t know how long they stood like that, the squeals from her entrapped attacker began to sound as they woke up. Draco finally pulled back, his hand trailing down her face, like he was making sure she was actually OK, “What happened?” his face twisted into an angry scowl.
“I-I was followed,” Hermione finally twisted around to see her attackers scattered around with blood in the alleyway, “Th-they just attacked me,” she swallowed hard, “It might have to do with a case I’m working on,”
His face flashed guilt, just for a second, before his scowl returned, his normally silver eyes fading to grey, “We’re going to find out,” Malfoy pulled out his wand, stepping towards her capture before she lept and grabbed his arm again, stopping him.
“No, we need to call the other aurors and let them handle it,” she pulled his wand down, “You can’t force them to talk, or else you’ll be arrested too,”
Malfoy’s eyes flashed silver for a second, “I don’t care. I’m figuring this out and they can clean up the mess,” he pulled his arm out of her grip while she watched him stride over to the incarcerated man.
Running, she put herself between them, “Malfoy, No,” She shouted at him, “You can’t do anything from Azkaban,”
Her vision flashed red behind her and pain overwhelmed her while she felt herself go airborne, just for everything to go black.
Draco shook with rage, watching with horror as Hermione was struck from behind. He saw her go flying, striking the wall and crumpling to the ground.
His eyes turned to the men in front of him, letting his anger and fury overwhelm him as he lifted his wand toward the man lying prone in front of him. The woman he loved, attacked by the men on the ground around him. Preyed upon by the men at the ministry who were supposed to be helping her. Green sparks began to gather at the tip of his wand, his hand shaking with anger at seeing her treatment. And he didn't stop it.
Every step of the way, she sought to break the corruption in the ministry and serve the people around her, and for what? For the Wizengamot to laugh at her proposals that restrict their ability to personally profit from their positions and for other Aurors to try and attack her when their subterfuge is found out. No, Draco was done watching this happen, starting with the cunt who tried to kill her.
The green light gathered and the wanker just watched in terror, knowing his life was about to end.
“Expelliarmus!” His wand flew from his hand, clattering at Hermione’s feet while she stared at him, alarmed, bleeding from her head where it hit the stones.
Shock and anger overwhelmed him as he looked over to her, turning his gaze back to the asshole who thought to touch her. He didn’t need his wand for this.
He strode towards the bastard as he started to scramble to his feet, tripping on the debris around him, the second he managed to regain his balance he started running. It didn’t matter, Draco grabbed him by his shirt flinging him into the wall next to him before he started hitting him.
“Malfoy!” He heard Hermione’s screams, heard her stumble over the cobblestones to try and stop him. He didn’t care, he was done watching her get pushed around and this cunt was just the start of it.
Draco let every notion of fury out as he pounded his fists into the bastard below him. Slamming his head back into the tiling with a satisfying crunch before Hermione managed to jump on him. He was breathing hard when she grabbed his arm, pulling it back. He wouldn’t shake her off, she was his, and he didn’t want to hurt her more than she already was.
It didn’t matter anyway, her attacker laid on the ground, covered in blood as she pulled him away, “Malfoy, what are you doing?” She was nearly screaming, but he could barely hear her over the rush of blood in his ears.
He turned to her, his arms wrapping around her reflexively, she was trying to push him off, but it didn’t matter, she was his.
Hermione struggled to break herself away from the man wrapped around her like an octopus as she heard the pops of apparition around them.
Malfoy dug his hands in tighter, pushing his head down into her hair as he breathed her scent and calmed down. She finally pushed herself out of his grip only to see him scowling down at her, “The Aurors are here, we need to give statements,” She said firmly, his eyes dull as they stared back at her noiselessly.
He huffed staring down at her, before taking her hand in his and turning towards the arriving law enforcement.
Hermione stumbled over to them as best she could, holding her head and limping, Malfoy keeping her off the pavement as they walked.
She spoke quickly with the aurors, pointing out the attackers and explaining what happened. They apparated four of them to St.Mungo’s almost immediately, with the exception of the incarcerated man. Roberts was on shift, running over to them, “Hermione, what’s happened?”
He reached out to touch her shoulder and Draco pulled her back into him, growling at the approaching auror. Roberts’ eyes flashed to Malfoy, eyeing him like a dangerous animal.
She pushed off Malfoy, throwing a glare over her shoulder at him, “I’ll be ok, they were off a lot worse than I am,” Malfoy hung onto her hand while she spoke with Roberts, glaring at the auror throughout the whole time.
Roberts examined her face and head from a distance, “You said you lost consciousness?”
Hermione nodded, feeling Malfoy’s hand squeeze hers, “Just for a moment or two,”
“Maybe we should get you to St. Mungo’s too, it could be a concussion,” Roberts looked concerned, “And of course, we’ll need to question each of you, separately,” He shot a pointed glance at Malfoy as he glared down at the man.
Hermione nodded, “Of course, I’ll go to St. Mungo’s while Malfoy is questioned, and I’ll join you there after,” she glanced up at Malfoy.
He pulled her back to him again, “No, we go together,” He stared down at her, his face hard.
“Malfoy, they need to question us separately, drop me off at St.Mungo’s on the way, I’ll be fine,” she pulled back against his hand, but he held her fast, his face curling into the familiar scowl.
He spared a glance at the Aurors around him, “Fine, but you’re going into the room before any of these bastards,”
Hermione released a breath, thankful he wasn’t going to fight with her further on it, jerking her chin in agreement.
Hermione did her best to stare into the penlight, “Ok, and follow my finger,” her head nearly spinning like a top.
Her eyes followed the Medwitch’s hand as it rotated through her peripheral vision.
The medwitch stepped back and clicked her penlight off, pulling up Hermione’s chart to make a few notes, “You have a mild concussion, and your ankle is twisted. I’ll have someone come in a heal your ankle in a minute or two, but brain trauma is tricky, even for magic, so we’re just going to monitor, and since the concussion is mild, it should heal within a few weeks. No advanced cognition for the next two days, I would recommend taking a few days off work, and have someone monitor you overnight, wake you every few hours, just in case,”
Hermione nodded at the witch from the exam table as she leaned back over to whisper the healing incantations for the split skin on her head, “Thank you,”
The medwitch nodded along, “Of course, and here is a pain potion and something for swelling,” she handed her the potion bottles.
Hermione nodded and downed the potions as she finished her notes, “Feel better!” she waved as she left the partitioned space in the emergency room.
Hermione cradled her aching head in her hands, hoping for the pain potion to kick in. This is a mess. This had to involve Dawlish somehow. There’s no way a coordinated attack just randomly happens right after she shows up at his office looking for documentation, right? But it still didn’t make sense, how did Malfoy know where she was at? He showed up just in time to nearly beat a man to death. She heard the crash cart show up to his room a few minutes ago, it might’ve been to death now.
Malfoy looked so angry as he did it. The look he gave her before he went after the man who attacked her gave her chills, she was scared of him for a moment. Before she remembered, he would never actually hurt her, she didn’t know what he was planning, but she knew that much. Then he ran for the man, hitting him over and over, the attacker’s blood was soaking his hands and sprayed across his face by the time he was finished. He pulled her into his arms and she knew, he was defending her, protecting her. Albeit, in the worst way possible, but protection nonetheless.
The Medwitch’s assistant came in, healing her twisted ankle with a complicated bit of magic, once she was done an auror poked his head past the curtain, “Ready to go Granger?”
She nodded quietly, still trying to decode his appearance there, “I’m ready