Hello! This story is going to be about twenty-one chapters, and I'm working through writing the last three chapters now. This was not beta read, but has been read by mcal, who is still the most lovely.

IMPORTANT - This chapter has a trigger warning. While Hermione is not physically harmed, there is a jarring scene of violence and derogatory language used toward a female victim. Now, I think full warnings are better than vague ones, and my plot is not more important than your mental health. So, here is exactly what happens. I'm sorry for the long note! If you don't want to read this spoiler, please skip ahead.

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Draco goes on a mission with Harry and Ron, and several other aurors. During this mission, they uncover the fact that one of the Carrows and Dolohov. During this mission, Draco uncovers that Dolohov has glamoured a muggle girl as Hermione Granger. Dolohov says cruel, sickening things about this girl, about Hermione as well, to Draco directly. If rape/non-con is any kind of trigger for you, I would discourage reading. The experience is traumatic to Draco, who I stress is not the most important part of this, but since it's from his perspective, it's what you're going to read.


Sussex was a clusterfuck.

Despite the fact that they were years out from the end of the war, it hardly mattered when every other week there was a wizard—or witch, Draco had seen both and the witches were the ones that concerned him most—trying to dig his heels in while spouting that he would be the next Dark Lord. Typically, these individuals were little to no threat.

Nobody's with fuck all to do but preach views that were reaching the end of their ropes while trying to lure in a younger generation. No matter how many times it was done, it never worked, but Sussex was—

"It's bad," Potter told him in the Ministry. His fingers had been clenched around a document, his knuckles a stark white, and at the time, Draco had noticed a love bite on his partner's neck. He'd handed off a travel size tub of Murtlap Essence in lieu of saying anything. "I thought Robards was exaggerating, but it looks like it might be the start of uprising due to the law—if it gets the time and space to spread."

Several Aurors filtered into the DMLE by two in the morning, and while he was mostly focused on the task at hand while he sat through a briefing, Draco found his mind wandering to the witch fast asleep in his bed at home. He even thought of her monstrous half-Kneazle with a nose that looked as though it had run into a wall incredibly hard.

Robards' voice was quiet when it carried through the room. Low. Grave. It sent his stomach into a sharp turn and Potter's eyes were narrowed when he tilted his head barely an inch toward Draco. "There are at least twenty wizards in this home, but recon teams have been unable to confirm a hard number. Truthfully, we're not entirely sure what you'll walk into."

The hair on the back of Draco's neck rose.

Head Auror Robards' voice remained neutral, though the strain to do so was evident. "We have reason to believe that there is a hostage inside, kept under lock and key in the basement. Our primary focuses are to apprehend these wizards, but not at the risk of losing the hostage."

It hadn't been in the file. Nothing.

"Due to the sensitive nature of the hostage's alleged state right now," His eyes closed, and there was a furrow to his brows. "It's regarded as information only to be revealed to Aurors on scene, and at the highest level of security clearance."

A peculiar way to say it, Draco thought to himself.

"This will be the worst scene we've witnessed in years." With his voice barely a whisper, Robards gripped both sides of the podium. He concluded shortly after that with little more information shared, and Draco followed him in the corridor.

"Head Auror Robards, what you said—"

He was shorter than Draco, but it didn't make Draco any less intimidated by the man. "If I tell you anything, we have an understanding it's to remain in your team, don't we?"

"Of course, sir."

Draco wasn't sure if Robards had decided to tell him due to his status as an Auror—decorated, even when he was standing next to his partner—or if it weighed on him. The second seemed unlikely. "There's a mole in the group. Photographs came to me this morning and I received a go ahead for this mission within the hour before I sent for all of you.

"For the record, I had every intention of telling you this before sending you in. If you were to come across the hostage without warning—" Robards cleared his throat. "The Minister thought you should be removed from the assignment entirely, but I refused."

He blinked. "I don't understand why the Minister would request I not report to work."

"Hermione Granger has been dragged through the mud relentlessly over the past few weeks, hasn't she? Has she ever voiced a concern for receiving any threats?"

"She has not," Draco said slowly, his voice sounding foreign even to his own ears and his blood ran cold. "Does this have something to do with her? Is she in danger?" She couldn't be, he knew. The wards on the flat were impenetrable.

"Their motivations are focused on her, it would seem, but she's currently untouchable. There has been quite an increase in violence since this marriage incentive was brought to the public, Auror Malfoy. I'm not sure if they have plans to fester and spread—but the threat is still there."

"That doesn't explain why I would be removed—"

Robards' throat bobbed when he swallowed. "They've kidnapped a muggle girl. She bears a strong resemblance to Hermione Granger, and I would even suspect a glamour charm to make her appear just like her."

It felt as though his lungs were being crushed and he slapped a palm to the wall to steady himself. "Are you—" He couldn't think, much less form an appropriate sentence.

"I understand how tempting it will be to lose your temper, Draco but Minister Shacklebolt barely allowed this."

Draco heard the message loud and clear: stay calm, don't do anything rash.

He just wasn't sure if he'd be able to manage it.


He waited to tell Ron and Harry until they were separated from the pack of Aurors steadily making their way toward the Apparition point. But then Boot joined them and he had to wait even longer. Draco wished both of them would have been there to hear it so he didn't have to repeat it, but there was not a chance he could let either of them walk into this without knowing.

Draco debated whether or not he wished he didn't know. He imagined Robards believing that he might have frozen if he'd barged down into the basement to see a girl that could have passed as Granger—he hadn't seen photos; he was going by hearsay—but Draco thought it was likely to be just as traumatic either way.

Once in Sussex, teams scattered. They would be able to communicate through comms that rested behind the shell of the ear—invisible equipment that had been engineered by a muggleborn Unspeakable using technology he knew from the muggle world.

Draco was careful to momentarily silence anything on their end as they hunkered down in the fifth floor of an abandoned warehouse that had certainly been abandoned for years. Nearly five hundred yards from the property they'd been sent to watch—a hundred yards outside where the wards ended, according to the mole—Draco knelt to the floor in the gathering dust while Weasley pulled a scope from his bag.

"Did you silence—" Potter started.

"Shut up, and listen because we won't have a lot of time before they start the first check-ins." If either of them were irritated by the rough demand, neither of them let it show. "I spoke with Robards before we left. This group is apparently furious about the law, and probably the fact that bloodlines are being mixed as well. More importantly, they're blaming Granger for it."

Ron very nearly dropped the scope and his face turned red, as did the tips of his ears.

"The hostage is a muggle girl that looks just like her. Shacklebolt wanted me removed from this mission because she's my fiance, but Robards wouldn't allow it."

"We care just as much—" Ron started and then he stopped. "I know that isn't the point here, but fucking hell, hasn't she gone through enough?"

Draco agreed. He really did.


It was worth noting that rarely did he not think of her, but when the sun rose, all he could think about was how she had probably slept in late. She was probably stretching while still in his bed, her knickers still tossed in the floor, before she eventually made her way into the kitchen. Draco knew Crooks would follow her and hop on the counters. He knew she would set his dish on the table if he weren't there to shoo her cat off the blasted thing.

He wondered what she was doing while Potter slept on the floor and he kept his fingers gripped tightly around the scope.

Draco always thought of her now, but it was different that morning.

He'd imagined waking up with her. Whether or not they'd slept together was unknown, but he'd kill to crack one eye open and find her hair attempting to suffocate him rather than losing all feelings in his knees in a warehouse.

Over the course of twenty-four hours, Draco counted sixteen wizards that passed in front of the window they had a clear view of, and all of them looked like tossers. Once an hour, on the hour, their comms would sound and they would begin checking in.

It became clear that he wouldn't be home in two days quickly.

The nest of wizards timed their changing of their guard at twelve hours marks,

Once at noon.

Once at midnight.

There was a witch with jaggedly cut blonde hair that stood in front of the window at midnight, staring across the field with a glint to her eyes. A scar stretched from the top of her cheek down to the beginning of her jaw.

Draco recognised her immediately. Kicking Potter's ankles hard enough to wake him and still hard enough to hear him whine, he cut him off. "Alecto Carrow is in that house."

Ron stirred at the low his, dragging a hand down his face as he sat up. "Carrow? No one's seen them in years."

"Evidently, she's done well when it comes to avoiding Aurors. She's changed her hair to blonde, but I would know the scar anywhere."

During the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco had watched as her brother was nearly cut in half by a botched spell cast by his aunt—coincidentally moments before Bellatrix had been killed as well—and Alecto had turned to fight anyone who came near her brother. It had been Fenrir to deal the blow, claws dipped in a cursed potion brewed in Malfoy Manor.

Some scars could never be hidden, no matter how strong the glamour was.

Potter didn't say a word as he took the scope between his palms and looked for himself. "That's definitely her. We'll inform Robards. We can't wait any longer if there are other Death Eaters inside."

There weren't many Death Eaters that were still uncaptured. Yaxley, Dolohov, and Alecto. Draco would bet his inheritance the others had fled the country and never looked back.

"You said it was a girl who looked like—" Weasley swallowed hard, unwilling to say the words at all. "Alecto's a threat, certainly but if Dolohov is inside—"

He'd had the same thought as Draco.

"He just," Ron sighed heavily. "Even during the final battle, he was watching her. I saw him. In Malfoy Manor, I was more worried he would get to her rather than anyone else."

Acid formed in Draco's stomach, and his mouth grew dry. "I'll tear him apart."

"You won't be alone." Ron muttered.

At the same time, however, Harry was the voice of reason. "Draco, you're lucky to be on this mission if all of this is true. We treat this like any other mission."

"This is Hermione,"

Draco didn't trust himself to say anything while Ron's face grew red.

"I want to hex them until they're unrecognizable too," Harry said. "If we do though, you know Robards will have no choice but to punish Malfoy for it."

Draco scoffed.


On the second day leading into the third, all Aurors organized themselves outside the wards while under heavy disillusionment charms.

Draco could feel his heartbeat between his ears. There had been no further confirmation that there were more Death Eaters inside, and they had reported the sighting of Alecto to the Ministry minutes after it had happened. The priority of success was increased in the same moment, and Draco knew that it meant failure would not be an option.

Potter let him lead. Draco didn't know if it was because he sensed the anger threatening to boil if he didn't get the chance to do something, or if he just didn't want to lead.

That would be ridiculous. Potter always wanted to fucking lead.

Under the cover of a dark sky with hardly any lights, he signaled to the right for Aurors Boot, Smith and Peck to go before clearing the other side. There had been no expectation for any wizards—or the witch—to be outside, but as they cleared the perimeter, they joined at the side of the house with no windows.

"I'm going to detonate at the count of ten," Boot pulled the device from the deepest pocket on his thigh. "Gotta say, muggles might have had the right idea when they made this."

Slowly over the course of a minute, other Aurors joined them, revealing themselves only for a moment before going back under their charms.

Boot began a countdown on five, holding up his left hand while his wand remained firmly trapped in his left.

Malfoy conjured protective shields with Potter and Weasley, blocking the entire group.

Boot held one finger, and the second it touched his palm, the wall blew. Remnants of it slammed against the shields and as smoke was cast forward in the blast, Draco was one of the first ones inside. A familiar shade of green cut through plumes of smoke, only inches to the left of his cheek and there was no time to see where it had landed.

To see if it had connected with someone he saw everyday.

Weasley nodded as he followed closely behind Bones, covering her back as they moved into the onslaught. They climbed the stairs, Susan in front with her wand pointed upward.

"Bombarda!" It connected on the east side of the building. The ground trembled under the soles of his boots.

Potter jerked his head toward an open door with stairs leading down. "Think it's too easy?"

"Probably." Taking advantage of the chaos focused in the center of the room, both of them disillusioned themselves as they slipped through the entryway.

It smelled of mildew and metallic.

Don't let her be dead—don't let her be dead.

A board creaked under Potter's foot, and they froze. Draco knew without truly seeing that his partner's head had whipped around to stare at him.

Above them, offensive spells were cast so quickly that identifying one voice from another was impossible.

Below them was a mystery.

"I know you're there." Shrouded in familiarity, the voice was raw as though he had been screaming. "Do you think they'll save you, love? I wonder."

Draco shoved past Harry on the stairs, feet connected with the cement at the bottom. Huddled in a corner of filthy blankets, there was a girl leaning forward limply. Matted brown hair hung down, and Draco could see that it had been curly once.

There was a wedge in his throat.

Dolohov kicked her forward, his heel digging into her back. "Come now, drop your charms." He drew his hand.

Dolohov was too close to her. If he cast a spell, there would be no guarantee it wouldn't strike her.

"Confringo!" Potter's cast missed, but he followed with a knee-reversing hex, sending Dolohov stumbling to the ground. "Get her out of here. Apparate!"

Draco revealed himself when he reached her, wrapping his fingers around her forearms softly.

The killing curse burst forward.

Her head tipped backward.

"Looks just like the real thing, doesn't she?"

She was at home.

She was at home.

Granger stared up at him, her lips cracked from dryness and her teeth bloody. She shied away from him, whimpering. "Don't hurt—"

"Draco, Apparate her out." Potter saw it, and still ordered him with his lips pressed into a flat line. "It's not Hermione. She's safe. Listen to me."

The cackle that came would stay with him.

Draco was sure of it.

Granger. Granger. Granger. Granger—

"She's rather dependent on me, that one. Nothing like how the real one would be, I imagine but you must know all about that."

"He's goading you. Don't give in."

The upstairs quieted.

He'd dressed her in a Hogwarts uniform, and ripped the shirt in half.

There was a purple line spread down her chest.

She was exactly the same.

"Not quite as the real mudblood." Yellow, cracked teeth were revealed when he smiled. "She doesn't fight back. She begs me not to hurt her, offers her filthy cunt so she can stay alive."

It really—really—didn't matter if this woman was Granger, or not. She was a victim of a mad man.

Still, it was Granger's face that looked up at him and her fingers that began to pull what was left of her blouse apart while whispering, "How can I make you happy?"

"Expelliarmus!" Potter shouted and Dolohov was no longer armed.

But then it came again and neither was Draco.

"Don't fucking—Draco!"

He didn't need a wand, Draco thought as he hauled Dolohov forward by his collar and slammed him face first into a wall.

He didn't need anything at all to make him suffer.


In the terms of the mission—in the Ministry's eyes, anyway—it had been a success. Two Death Eaters captured and a slew of wizards that had only been growing more and more dangerous by the day. The papers would report that, but it wouldn't be the only thing.

How terrible was it that no matter how much good you could be involved in, that if there were one—just one—thing to make anyone think twice, it gained more attention?

With that in mind, even as Minister Shacklebolt handed down a suspension from work, with pay, for two weeks, Draco couldn't say he regretted his actions. In fact, he'd do it again and he had said as much. They would have been more lenient if he had.

"Dolohov will be unable to stand trial for his crimes for months, Auror Malfoy. Do you understand that?" Shacklebolt told him. "Your actions—"

Robards held up a hand. "Would you have done anything different?"

"That is not the point here. You," he leveled a finger "endangered an entire mission in order to exact your own punishment."

"I would never endanger a mission." Draco leaned forward. "The fighting had already ceased by the time I was on Dolohov. Minister, I accept my punishment however you deem fit, but I will not apologize for my actions."

"There is the matter of—"

Draco shouldn't have snorted, but he did. "Appearances? Optics? Minister, the man is a known Death Eater. A murderer, a rapist who glamoured a muggle girl to look like my fiance so he could enact a fantasy. How the fuck should I have reacted?"

Robards didn't correct him as he leaned back in his chair.

Kingsley exhaled sharply. "If I had known the girl in the photographs—"

"I would have allowed him to go regardless," Robards folded his hands over his stomach. "Auror Malfoy has an exemplary record in his time here as an Auror. I expected for there to be several reports filed, accusing him of brutality, but the only one ever to be filed was by a captured Death Eater. What does that tell you, Minister?"

"Suspended with pay for two weeks, Auror Malfoy. For the record, I cannot condone your behavior in Sussex, but I realize that it was an impossible situation to be in."

In the hours that had passed since returning to the Ministry, Dolohov's words continued to echo in his head.

"You can't realize anything," Draco said. "Will that be all? As pleasant as this is, I'd much rather go home to see Granger."

The Minister nodded. "Head Auror, a word if you will?"

The door clicked shut behind him, and Draco finally exhaled. Another few minutes and he would be landing in the Floo of the flat and he could convince himself that she was fine. That it hadn't been her—even if he knew that rationally, it couldn't have been.

A handful of reporters stood in the atrium, media passes hung around their necks, and Draco turned in the opposite direction. He'd use the exit they'd snuck Granger out of instead. Anything to avoid the blood hounds.

With his hands shoved in his pockets, Draco realized his jaw was painfully clenched.

"Draco!" Granger rushed after him, her hair a mess, and a shirt that was too long for—it was his shirt, he realized. "I thought I was never going to find you!" She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into her tightly. "Ron said you were suspended, but he wouldn't tell me why. He said that I would need to ask you…"

She continued talking, but he didn't catch the rest of it.

Draco lifted her chin up. He ran a thumb over her lip to reassure himself that it wasn't split. Her teeth weren't broken.

She bore no bruises or cuts or wounds.

"Draco?" She led him to a bench off the corridor. "We'll be left alone here. What are you doing?"

He knelt between her legs, and slid his arms around her waist. "Just stay here for a moment, alright?"

If she replied, he did hear it. Granger combed her fingers through his hair and hummed while he hugged her tightly, breathing in the scent of her. "Do you think you can tell me what happened?"

Telling her about Dolohov was the worst thing he could imagine right then. "What do you know?"

"Alecto Carrow was captured. Ron wouldn't tell me very much, honestly."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I brought Dolohov in this morning."

She froze.

"He kidnapped a muggle girl. He tortured her, Granger. The healers at St Mungo told me everything that—" Draco cut himself short. "It was so fucking terrible."

Granger held him closer and leaned forward to brush her lips against his hair. "Is that what this is about? Will you help me understand a bit more?"

"He glamoured her. I don't know how and it will be months before he's able to tell us, but I imagine he just had such a vivid imagination that he…"

Her hands framed his cheeks and he stared up at her.

He hadn't been aware that his eyes were watering until then.

"What did he do, Draco?"

"Please trust me that I would never try to keep terrible things from you, but I don't think it's something you should hear." He managed.

She pulled at the scraps of her shirt with trembling fingers. "How can I make you—"

Granger's lips were cool against his knuckles when she lifted his hand. "It's affecting you a great deal. We're in this together now, aren't we? Whatever it is, I want to be here for you just as much."

She'd clung to him when he picked her up. It was her voice.

"He glamoured her as you." Draco whispered. "Minutes before we left, Robards told me the girl had been disguised to look like you, but all he'd seen was her hair. I—we didn't know until—"

Hermione sank to the floor, awkwardly sitting in his lap while kissing tears away from his cheeks. "I'm here. I'm okay."

He locked his arms around her. "I knew it wasn't you, but then I thought—looked just the same and sounded just the same."

"I promise that I'm here." Granger rested her forehead to his. "And I promise that I'm not leaving."

Burying his face in her shoulder, Draco was grateful no one came to this corridor.

"You are so incredibly brave, did you know that?" She told him. "I know you were strong for her."

"For you," he rasped. "Everything—it's always been for you, don't you fucking know that?"

She smiled. "I know. I may not have agreed with all of the decisions you made for me,"

"Granger."

"But I know that. That's not something I've ever doubted, Draco."

He forced himself to swallow. "I'm suspended because I assaulted Dolohov. He filed a report complaining of my brutality."

"I see."

"He won't be fit to stand trial for months."

Her eyes shot open. "What did you do?"

Nothing he didn't deserve. "It's probably for the best that Potter took my wand." Their corner of the world grew quiet again. "I tried to calm down, but then I saw you and I couldn't."

She nodded. "I know." Her fingers slid down his arm. "If you ever need to talk about it, I'll be right here. It doesn't matter to me if you think it will upset me." Granger tilted her head to the side. "Two weeks of suspension?"

"Yes."

"The Department of Legally Binding Contracts is just around the corner."

He lifted a brow. "Are you suggesting…?"

She grinned. "I'm definitely not suggesting anything."

"I'm tired of suggestions, Hermione." Draco sighed, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Perhaps I should just tell you exactly what I want instead."

"Oh! Are we learning from past mistakes now?"

He tickled her. "I want to marry you."

Her breath caught.

"And that may not make a bit of sense and you might think it's too soon, but I want to marry you. Then I want to spend the next two weeks with you, if you'd have me."

He expected her to say no, and he wouldn't have been upset if she had.

Granger nodded and his lips crashed against hers.