XXVIII.
Good things seem to have a short expiration date in Draco’s life. A Patronus arrived for him a few hours later and dragged him away from Granger’s perfect naked form.
“I have to go, darling,” he whispered a kiss into her hair. “Work call.”
“It’s so early,” she said.
He kissed her passionately on the lips and practically groaned as he pulled away from her. This fucking Ministry was going to be the death of him. Pulling him away from the most stunning creature as she was finally naked in his bed. His wrath would be lethal for disrupting this.
He apparated to the location he was given and found himself in the storeroom of Weasley’s joke shop.
His mood was souring by the second.
“About bloody time,” Weasley scoffed.
“Ron, enough,” Potter chastised. “We’re all here now. Let’s go over the plan.”
Draco wanted so badly to let Weasley know exactly who had kept him so deliriously occupied but bit his cheek. Fucking prat.
“We’ve got six werewolves,” Jenkins explained.
He was a few years older than Draco, a recent transfer from Germany. He tolerated Potter. He found his celebrity status as annoying as most of the Auror office that had been raised with him. Even Thomas had distanced himself from the duo since the war. He was here too. So were Flint and Chang.
“Rumor is that they’ve been tracking witches,” Jenkins said. “Their pack numbers are low, and they’re looking into possible reproduction options.”
“Born, not bitten?” Chang asked.
He nodded. Draco forced himself not to explode with absolute ire. Weasley had been launching a campaign against the were-community for years. His own fear and bigotry had convinced him that every member of the pack was exactly like Dolohov. But it was ridiculous. Malfoy had done extensive research into the packs around Europe. Especially the ones close to London. There had been no evidence of any of this. The packs merely formed out of necessity. They could live with one another without fear of turning anyone. They found a group of people with a similar disease and cohabitated peacefully. Most were even on a schedule for a regular supply of Wolfsbane from Nott’s shop to keep the effects of their full moon phasing to a minimum.
“Who sanctioned this?” Draco asked.
“Smith,” Weasley snapped.
“It doesn’t feel right,” he argued. “I think we should run some more diagnostics before we charge in there and get our arses handed to us.”
“Afraid of a few werewolves, prince?” Weasley mocked. “Surely not a big, scary, Death Eater like you.”
Draco resisted the urge to punch his fist through Weasley’s jaw. He would have his head on a pike if he was dragged away from Granger’s gorgeous body for nothing.
***
They’d walked into a fucking catastrophe. Draco was livid. The entire thing had been a chaotic cluster fuck straight from the start. Weasley miscalculated the number of werewolves. Potter hadn’t had the sense to take into consideration that they were working with muggles that were packing a lot of illegal firearms. Bullets were ricocheting everywhere. Jenkins took a hit in the shoulder. Flint took one in the calf. And Thomas took one to the side. It was a fucking nightmare.
Not only did they barely make it out unscathed, but they also had to try and round up all the muggles and interrogate and obliviate the fuck out of them before turning them over to their muggle law enforcement. Draco was the lucky man that got to spend the next four and half hours obliviating seventeen muggles.
“What the fuck was that?” Smith roared as they sat through their debrief. “I ought to fire every last one of you fucking idiots!”
Draco took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He had a throbbing migraine from the spell-casting and Legilimency.
“Let’s go over the plan I was given again,” Smith said, pulling out a file and thumbing through it. “I was told seven werewolves, two or three possible witches as hostages, and one exit.”
His eyes narrowed at Weasley.
“Didn’t sound like much of any of that happened, did it, Weasley?”
Draco swallowed the urge to smirk.
“Did anyone think to say, hey, maybe we shouldn’t? Anyone at all?”
“Malfoy did, sir.”
Draco’s head swerved toward Cho, who maintained a neutral look forward.
“And we don’t listen to Malfoy because…”
Potter and Weasley were silent. Smith looked at Draco, who shrugged in response.
“Because he’s a former Death Eater.”
Draco actually did smirk this time, Chang was out for blood today.
“Exactly fucking right, Chang,” Smith nodded. “Potter, you’re reassigned. Your sloppy work and constant absence from the Department have made you a liability to others. We are down two good Aurors now because of this. I’ll have you transferred to the Minister’s office. You can work as a liaison between Ministries. Shake hands. Be political.”
“Sir, you can’t!”
“Potter, get the fuck out of my sight.”
Confetti cannons and fireworks broke out in a raucous chorus in Draco’s head. He could have kissed Smith on the mouth. He’d send him a huge gift for this. Something expensive. Lavish. He’d start a trust fund for his children. He’d buy him a vacation home in the Alps.
“Weasley, you’re on leave. Two weeks. I don’t want to see you until the new year. And if you don’t leave the fucking werewolves alone, I swear to Godric himself I will let one of those fuckers turn you.”
Draco looked at his feet to hide the elation he felt. This was the best holiday bonus he’d ever received. It was almost better than fucking Granger. Almost. But he was ready to rush right home and celebrate with another round of it.
“Chang, I want a full and honest debrief about this cock-up. Don’t skip anything.”
“Sir, this is absolutely ridiculous,” Weasley argued. “Harry and I are vital to this Department. You can’t-”
Draco even flinched at the deadly glare Smith offered Weasley. All of them pushed away from their seats and stood to leave the conference room. Malfoy grabbed his glasses and centered them on his face. He, unlike Potter and Weasley, left feeling inexplicably lighter.
“Malfoy,” Smith said. “A moment, please.”
“Sir,” Malfoy said, turning to Smith.
“With five Aurors out, I’m going to need to cut your holiday leave short,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“I understand.”
“I’m going to be reassigning some things. Be ready for some big fucking changes.”
Draco tried not to grimace. He wanted out. But with Smith’s recent moves against Potter, he might just have an opportunity.
***
Draco wanted to come home to find Hermione naked and waiting for him in bed. He thought about it as he looked over Chang’s reports before she submitted them and visited his three wounded Aurors at Mungo’s. When he finally did apparate home, he found her in the library with Pansy. Blaise and Theo were bent over a cauldron, and Pansy and Hermione were chatting quietly on the couch.
“Oh, you look terrible,” Pansy frowned as they all turned to see him in the doorway.
“Cheers,” he mumbled.
He looked down and saw dried blood in a few places over his clothing. He knew his hair was mussed over, his head was throbbing, and he was sure the dirt and sweat on his clothing only added to his disheveled appearance. But he didn’t look at any of the others. His eyes focused on the small mass of curly hair curled in the corner of the sofa.
She looked relieved to see him.
“Come sit and eat,” she said. “Kippy’s just brought tea. You look starved.”
“Shower first, I think,” he said.
Her eyes flitted over him nervously. He turned and headed toward his room. He was disappointed to find a full home. He wanted to lose himself in Granger to distract him from the maddening shit that happened today.
He went to close his bedroom door but found Granger right behind him. He was surprised to see her, and she offered him a shy smile.
“I just wanted to check on you,” she said. “The blood.”
She motioned to his arm and the neckline of his robes.
“It’s Thomas’,” he said, looking down.
Her eyes widened.
“Is he…”
“No,” he shook his head. “Everyone’s alive. Muggles with guns. Werewolves. It was fucking awful.”
The nervous expression didn’t leave her face. He stepped forward and traced his thumb along her jaw. She leaned into his touch.
“I hated leaving,” he said.
“Me too,” she said and rested her head in the palm of his hand.
“You could join me,” he said, nodding to the shower. “And I could show you how much I missed you today.”
She trapped her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes flashed back toward the door. She was worried about the others. He sighed.
“I’m sure they’ll want to hear what happened today too. Go on, I’ll be quick.”
“You’re not hurt?”
“No,” he said. “I have a headache, but that’s it.”
“I’ll go get some potions for your head,” she said. “And some food? Have you eaten today?”
He bent down and kissed her forehead. He used all the self-control he possessed and went to his shower. Alone. Miserably alone.
***
He showered and rejoined the rest. They’d all gathered around the sofas and chairs. He took a seat by Granger, and she handed him a heaping plate of snacks from Kippy’s tea tray.
“So Potter got sacked today,” he said with a wide grin.
Everyone’s mouth dropped open except Blaise, who cackled with laughter.
“How?” Hermione looked horrified.
“Smith has had enough,” he said. “He’s transferring him to the Minister’s department. Said he’d be better suited as a politician than an Auror. He also suspended Weasley until the new year.”
Nott was laughing with Blaise now.
“Oh, Godric,” Blaise smiled. “I cannot wait to hear this story.”
Draco recounted the gruesome affair of muggles and guns and werewolves.
“I told you I had a good feeling about Smith,” he said. “I think we can trust him.”
“Shouldn’t this be a good thing that Potter is with Kingsley?” Blaise asked. “Can’t Granger just tell him what he’s been up to, and the golden boy can save the world again?”
“I did tell him,” Hermione said. “He didn’t believe me.”
“Why?” Nott balked.
“When I refused to work with Crespo and Shacklebolt they started pursuing disciplinary action. I thought they were going to threaten me with my career and reputation. When I told Ron and Harry that they were looking into controlling former Death Eaters through unethical measures, they… well…”
“They approved.”
Draco said it. He already knew. Weasley and Potter hadn’t hidden their mistrust of him. They’d hated him since first year, and the feeling was mutual. It didn’t matter how much he’d done to redeem himself since the time he was sixteen. He would always be evil in their eyes.
“But you think Smith will do more?” Pansy asked. “Could we trust him with this?”
“I’ve got a good feeling about Smith,” Draco said. “But we’ll need more than just Smith to bring down the Minister. And we have to be smart about this. We can’t incriminate Granger in the process. You know Shacklebolt and Crespo will spin this story in their favor.”
“Do we go public?” Theo asked. “Let the golden girl share her story. Let the public run him out.”
“She’s been missing for nearly two years,” Pansy said. “They could discredit her. Claim she’s under the Imperius. Anything.”
“I think it’d be better if we keep her hidden until the whole thing has blown over,” Draco said. “Then she can make a miraculous re-introduction to society.”
“Or I don’t have to come back,” Granger said quietly.
All three of them sent her scalding glares.
“Not a choice,” Pansy said.
“Then we destroy them from the inside,” Theo said.