The Hunting Party
June 2013
As they sat in the library, Draco smiled in contentment as he held his youngest daughter close to him. Hermione had both Lyra and Scorpius tucked into her side as she read from the book that was currently in her hands. All three children were always so captivated when Hermione would read to them that it became a favorite pastime of theirs. Every night before bedtime, his family would curl up together in front of the fire in the library or in Draco and Hermione’s bed and listen to the soothing voice of his beautiful wife. It was the little moments, like the very one they were having, that made him fall in love with his wife over and over again.
After almost four years of marriage, he was sure that he knew and loved every inch of his wife’s being. Somehow though, to the surprise of practically no one, she seemed to still surprise him and teach him something new about the delectable witch.
So here they sat cuddled together under the blankets while a storm raged outside. Lyra held a cup of hot chocolate in her hands, taking sips as she gave her mother her undivided attention while Hercules slept in her lap. Scorpius was reacting at all the appropriate times to the story he was lost in while little Theodora was practically asleep, clutching onto the stuffed otter in her grip. The family completely wrapped up in their own perfect moment, were startled with the floo burst to life, and out stepped Harry Potter.
“Harry?” Hermione questioned, stiffening as she saw the look on his face. She turned her head, meeting the knowing eyes of her husband, and having a silent conversation.
“Uncle Harry!” Lyra exclaimed, smiling brightly at her godfather after another sip of her hot chocolate. “Where’s Jamie? Did he not come with you?”
“Not this time love,” Harry smiled the best he could manage at the little girl who was staring at him with a familiar pair of chocolate brown eyes, so full of life and wonder.
“Lyra, sweetheart why don’t you go help your father put the twins to bed. I’ll be up soon to tuck you in and tell you a story, I promise,” Hermione spoke gently, tucking a curl behind her ear. Draco stood, adjusting Theodora in his arms and Harry closed his eyes before continuing. “Actually… it’s Draco I need a moment with.”
“Me?” Draco asked, raising a brow. He looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione who seemed to be having a silent conversation of their own. Draco had long grown past the insecurities of Hermione and Harry’s friendship. He knew his wife loved him more than anyone could possibly fathom, she had told him just as much as she had shown him. With a nod to Harry, he reluctantly shifted Theodora into Hermione’s arms and watched as she left the room with Lyra and Scorpius in tow, Hercules following dutifully behind them. He waited until he could hear the patter of footsteps on the stairs before turning back to Harry. “Well, this is a first Potter. Usually, it’s my wife that you need to come to. She’s the one with the gorgeous brain that has saved your life more than once.”
“I am not denying that,” Harry agreed, running his fingers through the mop of black hair on the top of his head. As Draco went to pour them drinks, he studied Harry Potter’s appearance. He looked a bit more disheveled than usual. His facial hair let on that he hadn’t had a moment to shave and his eyes were running wild with fear, anger, and vengeance.
“What is it?” Draco asked, cutting straight to the point as he handed over the glass of firewhiskey. “What happened?”
“There have been… rumors of a handful of death eaters and sympathizers gathering in discreet groups,” Harry sighed, taking a large pull of the drink in his hand. “I had assigned a few aurors to keep an eye on the situation, to make sure that the idea of rebellion didn’t continue to grow and spread like fiendfyre.”
Draco shuddered at the familiar memory that threatened to bubble to the surface. Shaking his head, he took a drink of his own. “Let me guess… it did spread. Faster than even you could react.”
“That’s the thing,” Harry groaned. “It didn’t. It all completely died out. We didn’t hear another word on the matter for months.”
“Something tells me there’s been a change to that,” Draco sighed, his own hand running through his blonde tresses.
“Last night… there was a breakout at Azkaban,” Harry admitted, his eyes finally meeting Draco’s.
“Who?” Draco spoke, his voice even and detached. It didn’t take a genius to know exactly what he was thinking. The Malfoy family and subsequent trial were famous in the Wizarding World. Every death eater knew of their betrayal when they defected at the Battle of Hogwarts. Narcissa Malfoy herself had defied the Dark Lord when she lied to his face and claimed Harry Potter to be dead. Then there was the matter of the union of Hermione and Draco. Everyone in the world had seen and heard the story, including all of the stories about Lyra Malfoy. If death eaters were out there, there was a target on Draco and everyone that he loved. “Who escaped Potter?”
“Macnair, Rookwood, one of the Carrow twins… and Dolohov,” he begrudgingly informed him, taking a deep breath.
“Dolohov?” Draco snapped, his entire body shaking with rage. “Why the fuck is Antonin Dolohov still alive? If anyone deserved to be sentenced to the kiss, it’s him. Merlin's fucking beard! The things he did during the war… you have no idea Potter.”
“What’s going on?” Hermione asked as she entered the room, immediately going to her husband's side. Gently, she pried the crystal glass from his hand and sat it to the side, before taking his hand in hers.
“There was a breakout,” Harry sighed. “At Azkaban.”
“What? How does that happen? Again?” Hermione snapped.
“I know,” Harry groaned, knowing that an angry Draco and Hermione Malfoy was a dangerous situation. “We are doing everything that we can to track them down.”
“Them?” she asked, looking back and forth between her husband and best friend. Draco was fuming in anger. His entire body was vibrating, she could feel the magic pouring from his body. “What haven’t you told me, Harry?”
“Four death eaters escaped. Macnair, Rookwood, Amycus Carrow…” Harry said again, looking at Draco.
“That’s only three,” Hermione said confused. Harry remained silent, infuriating her more. “Who is the fourth?”
“Tell her. She deserves to know,” Draco bit out.
“Harry?”
“Antonin Dolohov,” Harry said quietly, meeting Hermione’s eyes. Involuntarily, her free hand shot up to touch the scar that tore its way across her chest. “We are after him, Hermione. All of them. We aren’t going to let anything happen to you or anyone.”
“Do you have any leads?” Draco asked, gently tugging Hermione flush against him. Whether it was for his comfort or hers, she would never know.
“No,” the auror said sighing before scratching the back of his head. “It’s actually why I’m here.”
“Of course, I’ll help,” Hermione said, nodding her head. “Draco and I will figure something out with the children. Perhaps your parents could watch them, love?”
“Actually,” Harry said, pulling Hermione’s attention back to him. There was a look of guilt in his eyes. “I’m here for Draco…”
“Have you gone mad?” Hermione gasped, her tight grip on Draco’s hand never faltering. “You can’t possibly think he has anything to do with this! He’s not a death eater Harry! He’s never been a real one!”
“Hermione-”
“No! No he was here with me and our children. You are not taking him from here Harry James Potter. I will not let you take him away for something he did not do!”
“Love,” Draco said gently, prying his hand from her grasp and lovingly cupping her face with both hands. “I don’t think he’s here to take me in for questioning.”
“I won’t let him take you,” she said stubbornly and all Draco could do was a smirk. If you had told Draco Malfoy fifteen years ago that Hermione Granger would be his constant and his strongest supporter, he would have laughed. Here she stood, defending him to her best friend against the notion that he had anything to do with the breakout.
“Of that, I have no doubt. You are a wicked little witch when you want to be.” Resting his forehead on hers, he closed his eyes, bumping her nose gently with his own. “I think what Harry means is he is here for my help, not yours.”
“What?”
“Malfoy has experience with these men,” Harry spoke up, feeling a tad out of place and like he's intruding on a private moment. “If anyone can help us track them, it’s him.”
“He’s right love,” Draco said, his eyes opening and melting into her chocolate ones. “I can help them.”
“No,” she snapped. “Absolutely not!”
“Hermione,” Harry began but was immediately cut off.
“Where’s my wand Draco?” Hermione snapped, thinking of which hex she was going to use on him first.
“You don’t need your wand,” Draco chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “You’ll feel guilty about it later.”
“I am going to not be here for this conversation,” Harry said, uncomfortable being in the middle of what he knew was going to be an argument for the ages between the two of them. “Malfoy, if you get out of this conversation and decide to join us, I’ll be in my office at the Ministry.”
Neither Hermione nor Draco looked away from each other as Harry left thru the floo. “Hermione…”
“No!” she snarled, ripping away from him and starting to pace. Logically, she knew that Draco was the perfect person to help Harry track down death eaters. She knew what they said was true, he did have intimate knowledge about the death eaters that had resided at Malfoy Manor all those years ago. That didn’t stop her heart from being furious at the audacity of Harry to even ask such a thing of her husband.
“I know that you know he’s right,” Draco said, watching his wife pace but not trying to interfere. He was appealing to her logic, knowing that it was the only way that either of them was going to get out of an argument. “You know that I could help them. I know how they think…”
“No, you don’t…”
“I was one of them-”
“NO!” Hermione shouted, whipping around and facing her husband, her eyes dark with passion. “You are nothing like them. You were not one of them. I will not hear you say that, ever. You were just a boy! You were a child and your family was threatened, you did what you had to do!”
“And that is exactly what I am doing now!” Draco argued back. “My family is being threatened! My wife and my children are in danger and I am doing what I have to, to protect you!”
“Then protect me! Stay here and protect me!”
“Now that’s not fair and you know it,” Draco glared. “I can help them, Hermione. I can help them catch the death eaters, I can do something that makes me feel like the man that you see me as!”
“You are a Quidditch team owner!” she yelled back. “You are not an auror! You are a husband and a father Draco Malfoy and you have nothing that you have to prove to anyone.”
“But it’s ok for you to do what he is asking of me?” Draco laughed sadly. “It’s ok for you to once again help Potter out of a sticky situation that could get you killed?! Do you not understand that if something happened to you… no. No. I will not even think about it because I will not allow it to happen. Not again!”
“They will kill you Draco!” Hermione yelled, silent tears flowing freely from her eyes. “They know what you and your family did. They know that you weren’t really a death eater and they know you married me, Harry Potter’s mudblood sidekick. They wouldn’t hesitate to kill you! You say you can’t lose me, but what about me losing you?”
“It wounds me that you have so little faith in my abilities love,” Draco smirked, grabbing onto her hands gently and pulling her into him. She immediately grabbed hold of him, refusing to let him go. “You are not going to lose me. I promised you a lifetime of excitement. You didn’t really think I meant just in bed did you?”
“Shut up,” she mumbled. “That’s not funny.”
“It was a little funny,” Draco chuckled, resting his chin on the top of her head. The air around them was silent as he stroked her curls, letting her process everything.
“If you do not come back to me Draco Malfoy,” she said after a few moments longer. “I will personally make sure to raise you from the dead and let you watch as Lyra calls Theo dad.”
“That’s the best you’ve got?” Draco chuckled. “That’s weak, using our daughter against me.”
“I’m emotionally strung out. It’s the best I have on such short notice.”
“I love you,” Draco murmured, pulling back and bending down to kiss her gently.
“I love you too,” she breathed against his lips. “One more thing.”
“Of course.”
“Tell Harry, the boy who lived moniker is on the edge of being retired.”
&&&
As Draco stood against the doorframe, listening to Potter assign duties to the Aurors under his direction. It was a surreal moment for the blonde wizard. At one point in his youth, he had thought about becoming an auror. The idea of hunting down dark wizards was thrilling to him. When Voldemort took over his life though, any daydream of that life that had been thrown out the window. The Ministry of Magic would never allow a former death eater, exonerated or not, into the ranks of their most prestige witches and wizards.
The life Draco had built for himself though, that was something he was immeasurably proud of. His wife and his children were the best parts of him and made him a better man. As he watched the other men in the room nodding and accepting their orders, he realized that this would never have been fulfilling for him. He was never truly a team player and it was more and more obvious by the minute.
“Potter!” Draco snapped, causing the raven-haired wizard to look at him with annoyance. “Are we done teaching the children, can we go now? I’d like to get back to my wife before she decides that hexing my balls off is the proper punishment for the evening.”
“Malfoy,” Harry groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose before taking a deep breath. “I do not need to know about marital affairs and neither does anyone else in the room.”
“I think everyone knows about our marital affairs,” Draco smirked.
“Let’s go before Mione kills the both of us,” Harry groaned walking out of the room.
“That’s right Potter,” Draco chuckled. “Because my wife is scarier than any death eater out there.”
“Bloody hell, when we make it out of this,” Harry said shaking his hand as they walked to the lifts. “I’m going to need to open that bloody golden again to drown out the sound of you.”
“It will probably be best to avoid the cottage for a while,” he chuckled in response. “My wife tends to be very vocal when she’s pissed at me. And she’s very pissed at me right now.”
“Stop talking Malfoy.”
&&&
It when now hours into the night, and just like Harry had predicted, Draco Malfoy had been able to lead them to their first capture. What he hadn’t been prepared for, was Antonin Dolohov to be the one they snatched first. He sat, bound to a chair, in the dark hole they found him in, while Draco let Harry attempt to gain the information that he needed out of him.
“Tell me where they are Dolohov,” Harry demanded. “What are you planning?”
“The boy who lived,” Dolohov cackled. “I see some things truly never change. You should keep that in mind, Harry Potter.”
“Just let me end this,” Draco snarled, growing more and more frustrated by the minute.
“No!” Harry snapped, trying to control the anger that was threatening to spill out of him. Just breathing the same air as the man in front of him, brought back memories of Hermione and a curse that kept her in the hospital wing for weeks.
“Famous Harry Potter,” he smiled. “Always putting his friends in danger. Who was that sweet, precious thing that survived my curse? It should have killed her yet she survived. Bring her here and I’ll tell you what you want to know… for a fair price.”
It happened faster than he could react. One minute Draco was across the room and the next he was punching Dolohov in the face. As he pulled Draco off of him, he struggled to keep him away. He could feel his blood boiling as he thrashed against Harry. He could hear the memory of Hermione’s screams deafening his ears as his heart pounded in his chest. Every crucio he endured, every beating he took; it all came flooding back.
“Draco stop!” Harry shouted. “We need him! Don’t antagonize him. I promised Hermione I would get you back home in one piece. Stop making that harder on me. Your wife packs a mean punch. You know that!”
“Excuse me..” Dolahov interrupted. “Did he just say that you’re married to a mudblood?”
“Don’t call her that,” Draco bit out, his fists clenching as he fought the urge to attack the vile man sitting before him again. He was bound and defenseless. He knew it would be easy. He’d seen it done before.
“Draco,” Harry said stepping into his line of sight. “We need him. We need him to help find the others.”
“Pureblood Draco Malfoy,” Dolohov laughed darkly. “Of the beloved Sacred Twenty-Eight…Son of Lucius Malfoy…married to Hermione Granger, the mudblood whore.”
Something shifted inside of him as Draco heard the words fall from the death eater's mouth. The control he held so tightly in his grasp, had shattered and the pure hatred for the man in front of him had bubbled to the surface. A sickening grin slowly appeared on Draco’s face.
“I’m married… to the reason you’re going to die today,” Draco said slowly and started to walk towards him.
“Draco stop!” Harry shouted, trying to stop him but the wizard only shoved him off.
“You’re the one who asked me for help Potter,” Draco snapped, rolling up his sleeves as he approached their prisoner. “Admit it. The reason you came to me instead of one of your actual friends is that you know that when it comes to Hermione, I’d be the deatheater everyone thinks I am. I’d burn it all down to protect her. Sit down, Potter. I’m putting an end to this, once and for all.”
As they laid tangled together in nothing but the blankets they had taken outside with them, Draco rested his hand on the small barely noticeable bump that was her stomach. Ever since he had found out about her pregnancy, his touches were almost reverent.
“What’s on your mind Draco?” Hermione asked softly. He had been called into the Ministry for a meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt and he had been tight-lipped on the subject ever since he had gotten home. It wasn’t until they had put Lyra to bed and made a nest under the stars did she have a moment to try to get him to talk to her. “You’ve been quiet ever since you got home.”
“The Minister wanted me to submit more memories…”
“More memories? What could they possibly want with more memories?” Hermione asked, scrunching up her nose in confusion. “What were they for?”
“He didn’t say,” Draco said quietly, tracing gentle patterns on her stomach.
“But…”
“But sometimes… sometimes I think they are looking for something, anything proving that I was a death eater. That I’m a monster just like the others…”
“You’re a good man Draco Malfoy,” she insisted, kissing his jaw lightly. “A wonderful husband and an extraordinary father. You are the farthest thing from a monster.”
“But that’s just it Hermione. When I think about something happening to you or Lyra… or our unborn child I just… there is no limit to what I would do to protect you.”
“Draco…”
“I look at the scars from what you’ve had to endure… Dolohov… Bellatrix. I remember your screams so vividly… I would do anything, even become the monster everyone thinks that I am to protect you.”
“Draco I’m alright,” she said softly, running her fingers through his blonde tresses. “I’m safe and I’m here with you. Nothing is going to happen to me.”
“Never again Hermione… I won’t let it happen again…”
“You could have had a good life Dolohov,” Draco chuckled darkly, running his fingers through his hair as he circled the bound man. “You could have run away, found yourself a girl, married her… you could have been fucking said wife every night just like I fuck mine.”
“Fucking blood traitor!”
“But no,” Draco sighed. “You had to align yourself with a megalomaniac, who was a fucking half-blood by the way. How pathetic are you?”
“If anyone is pathetic it’s you!” he spat. Draco drew his wand immediately pointing it at him.
“My wife, a kid mind you, beat you in the Depart of Mysteries. She survived against Bellatrix Lestrange and she helped bring down Voldemort. She’s the brightest witch of her fucking age and if you had even a sliver of the brains she had, maybe you wouldn’t be in this position now you pathetic excuse for a man.”
“Stop talking,” he bit out.
“This is the end of the road for you Dolohov,” Draco smirked.
“You aren’t going to kill me. You need me.”
“No. Potter needs you. He needs the information you were never going to give to us anyway,” he chuckled, his eyes dark and piercing. “The difference between him and I is I don’t need you. I need vengeance for my wife. Seeing how Bellatrix is dead and Greyback as well… that leaves you.”
“You’re too much of a coward.”
“Oh, that’s where you are very mistaken. Hermione, my wife, she’s all the reason and courage I will ever need. I hope you’ve said your last words, Dolohov. You’ll be seeing your Dark Lord very soon.”
“Wait! Wait!” he shouted, squirming in his chair as if to get away from the looking wizard that stood in front of him. Long gone was the young, frightened boy who did whatever he had to do to survive. Now he was a man willing to do anything for his family. “I’ll fucking tell you. I’ll tell you where they are.”
“He’s all yours Potter,” Draco spat, every fiber of his being fighting against him as he took steps back, his wand hand never dropping. It would be so easy to say the words, so easy to conjure the hate and meaning that needed to be behind it. He wanted the man before him dead, dead by his hands. It was her words though that played over and over in his mind. You’re a good man Draco Malfoy. He was a good man. He was a man deserving of the love she insisted upon giving him. Hermione Granger was the light in his darkness and he refused to snuff out the light.
It didn’t take much effort on Harry’s part before he was giving them all of the information that Harry had been looking for. The aurors were dispersed to apprehend Macnair and Rookwood while Draco and Harry went after Amycus Carrow themselves. It was the early hours of the morning when they returned to Harry’s office at the ministry. They sat, decompressing as they both had a glass of firewhiskey.
“You know… for a moment I thought you were really going to kill him,” Harry said quietly.
“So did I,” Draco said, resting his head against the back of the chair and closing his eyes.
“I… part of me wouldn’t have blamed you. I’ll never forget seeing Hermione in the hospital wing after the curse. How did you do it? How did you stop yourself from killing him?”
“The same reason you wouldn’t have blamed me,” Draco chuckled. Hermione. “I could hear her voice in my head. You’re a good man Draco Malfoy.”
“She’s not wrong,” Harry chuckled. “She’s never wrong honesty.”
“I suggest you remember that when she ices you out for the next week,” Draco smirked, opening his eyes and putting the crystal tumbler on his desk. “Speaking of my wife. Am I free to go home now? I miss my witch and I would prefer to not be missing any important bits because I made her wait so long to know that everything is alright.”
“Bloody hell Malfoy I swear…” Harry groaned dropping his head onto his desk. “Please get out. I’ll be here… stabbing myself in the ear.”
“Try not to make a mess Potter,” he said laughing, as he walked out of the office.