Author's Note: I own no person, no place, no thing – except the plot! If you recognize it, it probably belongs to Ms. Rowling or some other awesome super-human.
All thanks and love to Phnxgrl, who supports my pokey, slovenly self. Cool crap that's happened: ARL turned two (yeah, count the chapters since it turned one, and raise that eyebrow in accusation and disgust), and I got me a spankin'-hot new laptop. Got a spankin'-hot new job, too. Pay's crap (ie, nothing), and I actually have to work, but at least I'm thinking again. Nothing bad can come from that. Right, on with the show. -acro
Chapter 34 It's in the Blood
Rubbing his nose viciously, Ron shuddered again and rolled his shoulders, then prepared to Apparate directly inside the building. As a Weasley, he should be able to bypass the wards and land right inside the designated Apparition point. Destination, determination, deliberation.
Ron turned on the spot, and with a pop, vanished from sight.
/…../
Hermione's forehead pressed against Draco's as the two shook with laughter. He had her bent over backwards, pressed down on the kitchen counter, and had just tried to murmur something about "filthy little, wait, no, dirty little, um, swotty, mudbloody- wait, what?" when Hermione started giggling, which just set him off as well.
"We are terrible actors," Hermione gasped through her laughter, and Draco chuffed and nodded in agreement.
"Especially you," he commented, and then continued in a high falsetto. "Oh, Malfoy, er, you're so, um, big! And bad! I don't want your slimy, ahem, bits! Right! Get your boy-parts away from me!"
"Oh shut up," Hermione grumbled. "I'd do better if I'd just written some lines out beforehand. It's hard to just think up random insults without actually trying to hurt your feelings."
Draco rolled his eyes. "That would have ruined the whole thing, love." He leaned back up and held an imaginary paper in front of his face while he adjusted his glasses. "Right! Malfoy, it says here that you are a creepy git! Now, give me your giant, hard-mmmmph!" He was unable to continue once Hermione slapped her hand over his mouth. The two laughed even harder, and Hermione wrapped her free arm around his shoulder to drag him back down on top of her.
"Why don't we just skip the arguing bit and get straight to the fun part?" she said as she slid her ankles up his calves.
Draco's laughter died away as he locked eyes with her. Hermione gave him a soft smile, and he settled himself on top of her as he kissed her.
As their kiss heated up, Hermione felt Draco's hand slide under her pleated skirt. He groaned against her mouth when he discovered her utter lack of undergarments, and broke away from her to mutter, "Christ, I love you, Hermione."
Hermione giggled. "I don't remember that being part of your repertoire from our schooldays, darling."
Draco leaned his hips back so he could undo his belt buckle and the front of his trousers. 'Yes, well, be that as it may, I'm not about to say anything other than 'I love you, you beautiful, wondrous girl,' when I have my dick in my hand. I'd like to keep it attached to my body."
Hermione's laughter cut off with a gasp when she felt the velvety heat of his erection brush against her bare leg. She nodded hastily as he quirked an eyebrow at her, and scooted herself closer to him, until their hips were flush together. They both groaned in unison as Draco reached his destination and sank inside of her, and Hermione curled her legs around his waist so that she could keep him as close as possible while he loved her body. Hastily, she pulled at the buttons of his oxford so she could part his shirt, and Draco in turn pushed her school blouse and Gryffindor tie out of the way so he could latch onto the bare skin of her chest.
"So good, right there, Draco, oh…" Hermione moaned as she lay back against the counter. Her hands sought out the edges so that she could grab onto them to brace herself as Draco set a quick, brutal pace against her. He gripped her hips and leaned away from her to stand up straight, and Hermione wailed as he hit that perfect spot inside her that set her screaming towards her orgasm.
A muffled pop, followed by the rustle of movement, a gasp, and the sudden barking of Artemis and Apollo stopped Hermione and Draco in their proverbial tracks.
"What the bloody fuck?!" a very, horrifyingly familiar voice shouted, and Hermione lifted her head from the counter to lock eyes with, of all people, her former best friend and ex-lover, Ron Weasley.
/…../
Draco Malfoy was happily pounding away at his fiancée when he heard the familiar pop of an incoming Apparating wizard, and looked up just in time to get blasted in the chest with a Stunner that tore him painfully away from Hermione's body, and halfway across the kitchen. He hit his back and shoulders against the oven door, and then scrambled up, pulling his trousers up as he rose, just as Ronald Bloody Weasley leapt over the kitchen counter and came at him with flying fists and spitting rage.
He didn't stand a chance. At the best all he could do was get his hands up to shield his face, but Ron's wand blasted his hands apart just as his free fist decked him hard in the jaw and set him sprawling across the room, where he slid into the corner of a bookshelf. He felt his head crack horrifically against the edge, and unconsciousness stole him away almost immediately as Hermione screamed and screamed….
/…../
Hermione's worst nightmares were realized as she scrambled off the counter and lunged at Ronald.
"No! Stop it, you maniac, you're going to kill him!" she shrieked as she tried to pull Ron's wand arm away from aiming at her fiancé. She only succeeded in getting an elbow in the chest as Ron reared back and blasted Draco, sending him careening across the floor and into the bookshelves. Hermione screamed as blood poured out of a cut on Draco's head and pooled on the hardwood floor, but just as she was about to dash across the room to help him, an iron-hard grasp settled around her arm and yanked her against the body of her former boyfriend.
"Hermione!" Ron bellowed right in her face, and Hermione cringed away from his towering rage. She tugged her arm futilely, but Ron refused to let her go.
"Let me go, you bastard! Draco! For God's sake, let go of me, Ronald Weasley! Draco!" Hermione shrieked and wailed until Ron's huge hand landed on her face, covering up her mouth and muffling her screams. She felt her back hit a brick column as Ron pushed her against it, and she stared in horror as he aimed his wand at her and started muttering.
/…../
Ron Weasley's day went from phenomenally bad to ten kinds of batshit-insane when he landed inside of what his gathered intel assured him was Draco effing Malfoy's home, only to find the sight that met his eyes was the same Draco Malfoy, hunched over his long-missing girlfriend Hermione Granger, fucking her within an inch of her life. Godric's ghost, her screams of pain and agony sounded terrible.
Any semblance of calm or rationality inside of him snapped, and he attacked his former comrade without thought.
Ron Stunned and punched Malfoy several, immensely satisfying times before the prick finally gave in and passed out – or died, not that it mattered, the evil git – against some gigantic book cases across the room. Then he turned to attend to a very distraught Hermione…a school-age Hermione? His girlfriend was wearing a Gryffindor uniform – obviously part of Malfoy's twisted games, the dirty rapist.
'Merlin's balls,' he thought, 'she must be hurt badly, the way she's screaming.' He pushed her against a nearby column to prop her up, in case she was too weak to stand on her own while he waved a few simple diagnostic charms at her. He'd had to cover her mouth to contain her screaming just so he could think straight. It didn't help that two mid-sized white dogs were barking nastily at them, and Ron was sorely tempted to Stun them too, as a precaution to keep them from biting him or Hermione.
When his wand couldn't pick up any immediate wounds on Hermione, he shook his head and pocketed it so that he could try to make some sense out of her wailing. She was obviously trying to tell him something.
Ron removed his hand from her mouth. "Hermione, poor girl. Hush now, so I can help you! Where are you hurt? Hurry now, and I'll send for a Healer!"
Hermione reared back and slapped him so hard he saw stars, so he grabbed her arm and shook her.
"For pity's sake, Hermione, stop fighting me and just tell me where you're hurt! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he roared. He closed his fingers tighter around her wrist and shook hard.
Hermione suddenly stopped struggling against him, and her babbling screams cut off in a piercing shriek as something in her arm made a terrible cracking sound.
Then multiple pops of incoming Apparition sounded around them, and Ron heard "Incarcerous!"as arms and ropes pulled him away from Hermione's cringing, wailing body.
/…../
Ginny Weasley hefted her fat and rather smelly baby boy up on her hip as she dialed Hermione's number again. The note from her brother that she'd found on her kitchen table wasn't scary, per se, but it did make her nervous to know Ron was wandering around Little Whinging. She at least wanted to give Hermione a heads-up, so her best friend could decide whether she wanted to speak with her older brother or not.
After getting Hermione's message service a third time, she finally had to set the telephone to the side and deal with Jamie's post-supper diaper.
"For Godric's sake, Jamie, this is unbelievable! If this is what I get for giving you big people food, I'm afraid you'll just have to stick with breast-feeding until you're toilet-trained! Oh, you like that idea, don't you, my little stinker?" she cooed at her son, who smiled toothily at her. His two brand new shining milk-teeth were the main reason why Ginny's battered nipples protested the idea of long-term breast-feeding. Ouch, but her son bit hard.
She'd just gotten the two of them cleaned up after their day of fun with Winnie and her baby boy, when a dull buzzing sizzled across her skin. Ginny shuddered, and just had enough presence of mind to grab Jamie when the tug of Apparition pulled her away from her home.
She barely landed on her feet, inside the home of Hermione and Draco, and was shocked to see Fred and George appear beside her.
Screams and bellows of rage split the room, and Ginny's focus narrowed on – oh bugger!
"Incarcerous!" Fred and George shouted together, and they leapt away from her to grab their brother before he could hurt an injured and terrified Hermione any more than he already had.
Ginny glanced around the room; where was Draco? Oh, bugger indeed. He was sprawled on the floor at an awkward angle at the foot of the bookshelves, and blood pooled around his head. His face looked thoroughly smashed, and Ginny dashed to his side to quickly check that he was still breathing.
"George! I don't have my wand! Call Mum! I need help!" Ginny cried as soon as her fingers caught his pulse in his wrist.
George had Ron Silenced and in a headlock. "Mum's in Egypt with Bill's family!"
"Crap! What should we do? Draco's half-dead, and I can't help him. We have to get Jamie out of here before he starts interfering with your magic, too."
"Shit, all right. Call – no, wait, I have to do it. I'll send a Patronus to Kingsley and Mafalda Hopkirk. I hate to say it, but this is going to have to be official business. Ron's an Auror, and it looks like he just attacked two Muggles."
Fred hushed the distraught dogs, and then spoke up from his position next to a huddled and shaking Hermione. "I'm pretty sure her arm is broken. She's going to need a Healer, too."
Ginny's face paled. Ron broke Hermione's arm? What kind of insanity was this? Jamie started squawking in her grip, and she shook herself out of her stupor. "What the hell is wrong with him? Was this some jealous fit gone horribly wrong?"
George and Fred shrugged simultaneously, and George released the purpling head of his younger brother, then pushed him fully to the floor. Ginny checked Draco's vitals again as she watched her older brother kneel on Ron's back, then wave out a Patronus charm.
"Emergency medical aid needed at H and D's flat. Hurry, please," George spoke to his Patronus, which then disappeared from sight.
Only seconds passed before four simultaneous cracks spilt the air. Jamie jerked, startled, and wailed as Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mafalda Hopkirk, and surprisingly, Percy and Penelope appeared several paces away from them.
Penelope was the first to act. "Ginny, here, take my wand and give me the baby. I'll get him and the puppies out of here."
Ginny readily handed her crying son over to his aunt, and Penelope dashed towards the exit with Artemis and Apollo following obediently behind her. "We'll be in the storage room!" she cried as she picked up Hermione's keys off their peg and opened the door and took off.
With the baby safely out of the room, wands were lifted in the air as two injured victims and one enraged Auror were inundated with spells.
Mafalda knelt next to Ginny as they evaluated Draco's unconscious body. "It appears that he has multiple abrasions and lacerations, and a possible concussion. Hopefully it's not deeper than that," Ginny murmured to the older witch, who nodded her concurrence.
"What happened here, Miss Weasley?" Mafalda asked as they rushed to clean Draco's wounds and check for deeper damage.
"I honestly don't know for sure. I got home from visiting a friend this afternoon and found a note from Ron in my kitchen. He said he was in town to check on some things, and would wait to hear from me when I got home. I was nervous about him wandering around without informing Hermione and Draco that he was here, so I tried calling Hermione. But her mobile never picked up, and a few minutes later I got Apparated here. Thank God I grabbed Jamie, or he'd have been left at home by himself. I didn't bring myself here, though. I don't carry my wand on me anymore, so I'm not sure what happened."
"It was the wards," George called over to them. "Fred and I got pulled in by them as well, just like we set them up to do. It's an emergency default that we set up, since these lot don't have magic. It must have been the quantity of blood Malfoy lost that set the wards off, since Ron's a Weasley and didn't have to tamper with anything to break into the house. I think he just Apparated right in."
"So, Malfoy's blood pulled us here?" Ginny asked.
George and Fred nodded together. Fred held Hermione's free hand while Kingsley traced his wand over her injured arm. Hermione bit her lip and pushed her face into Fred's shoulder as broken bones audibly snapped back into place and healed back together.
"He just appeared and jumped on Draco," Hermione moaned.
Ron lurched and tried to buck George off of his back. George removed the Silencing spell he'd placed on his brother, and Ron started spitting obscenities.
"For fuck's sake! That psychopath was raping her! What the bloody fuck are you lot doing, helping him? The fucker belongs in Azkaban! He's been holding her prisoner or some shit for some disgusting game; look at how she'd dressed! Fucking let me up, George, you manky prick! I'm going to kill that slimy bastard!" Ron ranted and snarled as he jerked around on the floor.
George Silenced him again before he could say anything worse.
Ginny's eyes bugged as she absorbed Ron's words, and recognized Hermione's outfit. Oh, bugger, that was the Gryffindor uniform she'd bought Hermione for…oh bugger. "Ronald Weasley! Are you telling me you barged into Hermione and Draco's home while they were having sex, and attacked them?! Are you bloody mad?!" Ginny shrieked.
Hermione covered her face with her uninjured hand as all eyes landed on her.
Kingsley chuffed and tried not to smile, but Fred and George's simultaneous whistles and chorus of, "heeyyy," worked to tear down some of the angst in the room.
"Nice outfit, Granger," Fred said.
"Yeah, I wager Malfoy has quite the fantasy about our little Gryffindor. Nice one, mate – oh, he's still knocked out, eh? Ron must have worked him over good."
Ginny snorted. "You boys are pigs, and you're talking about their private life. It's not any of your damned business what they do," she said sternly.
George's spine snapped straight. "Um, yes of course, Mum, I mean, Gin. Oi, Ronald, you dirty prat! Invading their private time like that!" George said with a smack on Ron's head.
Kingsley kept his eyes on Hermione's wrist. "I am sorry, Hermione, but I am afraid I must ask you these questions. Did Auror Weasley truly come into your home, unannounced and uninvited, and inflict physical and magical violence upon you and Mr. Malfoy?"
Hermione nodded miserably. "Please don't ask me more, Minister…"
Kingsley tssked. "You know this is just as embarrassing for me to ask, and please, I insist you call me Kingsley. Percy, are you keeping up with the notes?"
"Yes, Minister!" Percy piped in. He'd been wandering around the room gathering evidence and recording magical residue. "Auror Weasley Apparated into the residence of Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy, and nearly immediately Stunned Mr. Malfoy in the chest, and then in the face. He also performed two simple diagnostic spells on Miss Granger, which by their nature I can presume were to assess for injuries. The charms were inconclusive; Miss Granger was not injured at the time. Auror Weasley then physically harmed Miss Granger, which has resulted in the bone-break at her wrist, which Minister Shacklebolt has just repaired. Mr. Malfoy has also sustained several physical blows to the face, presumably from Auror Weasley. The quantity of blood that Mr. Malfoy lost from his head wound that he received after the second Stunner sent him head-first into the furniture was sufficient enough to activate the blood wards that my elder brother Bill Weasley, myself, our father Arthur Weasley and my brothers Fred and George Weasley set upon Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger's home at the first of this year with their full permission and use of their blood, since they are non-magical beings at this time. The aforementioned blood wards show no other sign of use or tampering."
"Excellent," Kingsley replied. "Hermione, does this sound accurate to you?"
"Yes," Hermione whispered. Her face was bright red.
"And can you, as briefly as you need to, explain why Auror Weasley attacked you and Mr. Malfoy, for our files? This information is not for the public, Hermione. No one will need to hear of this but Auror Weasley's superior, and that happens to be myself," Kingsley said with a kind smile.
Hermione's eyes filled with tears as her blush impossibly deepened. "I think…I…we were being…um…intimate, when Ron just popped in. He just flew into a rage and blasted Draco away from me. Um…I think he mistook my, um, vocalizations…ugh…. I think he thought I was crying out in pain," Hermione whispered.
Kingsley coughed as Fred and George hooted. Ginny glared at them again, and they shut up promptly.
"I am sorry for this, Miss Granger. Were you crying out in pain, or being assaulted in any way by Mr. Malfoy?"
Hermione glared for a moment at Kingsley, then said, "no," and dropped her eyes to the ground.
"Percy?" Kingsley prompted.
"Got it all, Minister," Percy quickly replied.
Ginny noted that his cheeks were at least as crimson as Hermione's, which she surmised was more from having to physically make record of their friends' sexual activity than from the trauma of hearing about it. 'Poor Percy,' she snickered to herself. 'He's really not cut out for this line of work.'
Mafalda's clucking brought her back to the man at her feet.
"Miss Weasley, if you will, go ahead and heal the laceration on the surface of his scalp and the bruising on his jaw, while I deal with the deeper damage." Mafalda held her wand at the ready, and Ginny immediately copied her stance.
"Deeper damage?" Ginny murmured. "Is he going to be all right?"
"He has some immediate tissue swelling at the sight of the injury that I want to reduce before I can get a clearer picture of his cranial cavity. At this time brain function is normal for the situation, and I don't sense any internal trauma," Mafalda said quietly as she waved her wand in careful circles near Draco's injury.
"Oh, blimey, that's good news," Ginny huffed in relief. She knitted the tissues and vessels back together and worked carefully to construct a neat scar that quickly aged to a pale pink – the same pale pink as the x-shaped scar that was a mere three centimeters to the left.
Ginny looked at the two injury sites, and bit her lip. "Ms. Hopkirk," she began.
"Yes, Miss Weasley?"
Ginny lightly touched the two scar sites on Draco's scalp. "Ms. Hopkirk, Draco has been bashed in the head twice now since he's been Suppressed. Is he really going to be all right? Is it safe to keep him from his magic now, as much as he's been hurt?"
Mafalda sighed and sat back on her haunches next to Ginny. "I wish I could answer that question with something solid, but I can't. We'll just have to wait and see. It's outside my realm of authority to dictate any change in Draco's sentence. And honestly, Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy is excessively happy here with Miss Granger. I imagine that even if the collective jury of the Wizengamot were to suddenly overturn his sentence – for his own good, mind you – that he would probably refuse to return. And really, this sort of thing happens to Muggles, well, not all the time, but it's not unheard of. And with the solid blood wards your family placed over their home, I think they're better protected here than they would be anywhere else in all of Europe."
Ginny sighed. "You have a point there, Ms. Hopkirk. Outside of my deranged lunatic of a brother, I don't think that any wizard or witch alive could break through their wards. I just hate that they are so defenseless; anything can happen to them as soon as they leave the property. Look what happened to Hermione last fall when she got attacked in the park!"
"Mmm, yes, I remember that quite well. But keep in mind, Miss Granger utterly trounced that young Muggle man, and he was nearly twice her size. We simply have to trust their judgment that this life is what they want – it was Miss Granger's idea, after all, to live like she is without her magic, and Draco has had no complaints about his safety or privacy from the Wizarding world in a very long time. They're quite happy here. They have each other, and they have all of us. If it's good enough for them, it's good enough for me."
"Hear, hear!" shouted George and Fred, followed by a round of polite two-fingered clapping. Ginny and Mafalda looked up from their conversation to see that all eyes in the room were trained on them, including Ron's, from his prone spot on the floor.
Ginny leveled what she hoped was a lethal stare at her elder brother, and, channeling their mother, said, "you should be utterly ashamed of yourself, Ronald Weasley, for your actions today! What were you thinking, Stunning a Muggle?! You could have killed Draco! You fought with him in the war; you know very well he's not your enemy! There's no excuse for what you've done!" Her ire rose even more as she stood to tower over the still-Silenced Ron. She could read the belligerence in his eyes.
"Release him, George, please. As long as he doesn't have his wand…I want to hear what he has to say," Ginny declared. Everyone turned to the Minister, who in turn looked to Hermione, who nodded her head once in agreement.
Ron should get his chance to speak for his actions, now that he was better informed.
Ron turned a deep purple as he rose to sit upright against the rear of Hermione's couch, and worked his jaw back and forth as he regarded the witnesses around the room. Ginny kept her post in front of Draco in case her brother decided to make some mad lunge for her friend before he was awake to defend himself.
"What I have to say…" Ron began, and then shook his head.
Ginny looked on in surprise as her brother uncharacteristically rubbed his nose, over and over again, like some mad, potion-abusing, prat. She watched his hands clench, in fact his whole upper body seemed to be clenching tightly and rhythmically, as if he was trying to exhaust some over-abundant supply of tension.
What in Godric's name was going on with her brother?
She cut her eyes over to her best friend, and subtly nodded at Ron, while wrinkling her forehead in a universal 'what on earth?' gesture. Hermione nodded back to her solemnly, and Ginny was assured that she wasn't alone in witnessing Ron's odd physical behavior.
"What I have to say is that it appears that I have been bloody lied to, and bloody shat upon, for the past year of my fucking life, and you are all looking at me like I'm Salazar's henchman, for Merlin's sake! I've been busting my balls to save the entire damned community on my own, and it looks like my only true comrades and family were fucking conspiring against me so that they could all get themselves a mother-fucking holiday in Muggle-land!" Ron spat.
"Hey now," George warned, and put a restraining hand on Ron's shaking shoulder, only to have Ron shake it off.
"Don't you 'hey now' me, you traitor! You lot knew where she was all this time, didn't you? You knew I needed help! You knew how much I've been suffering, how bad it's gotten, and you just let me take care of everything on my own! Well, fuck all of you! I'm done! I bloody quit! Make someone else your bloody whipping boy, Minister," Ron bit out hatefully. "I'm done trying to save the world. You deal with it! Let me go, damn it! I am so fucking done with all of this!"
Ginny's mouth dropped open in shock at Ron's rant, even as her brother buried his head in his hands and rubbed violently at his face, shuddering and moaning in apparent anguish. It was a sobering moment, because as much as Ginny wanted to paint him as a bad guy in this situation, waves of betrayal and exhaustion rolled off of Ron and lapped at everyone in the room. She exchanged glances with her three other brothers present in the room, and saw their equivalent cringes of chagrin and guilt.
Damn it, Ginny knew she'd been caught up in her own problems, what with losing Harry and falling pregnant with Jamie, and the events after that led her to Little Whinging, but they all had an excuse, didn't they, for dismissing Ron and not paying attention to the signs that he was over-taxed beyond what he was capable of handling on his own?
Hermione in particular looked positively distraught over her ex-boyfriend's outburst and subsequent breakdown.
"Ron," Hermione called quietly.
Ron's head snapped up, and Ginny was shocked by how disgusted he looked. "Hermione," he said snidely.
Hermione flinched visibly, and then stood shakily and moved to crouch in front of Ron. "I didn't mean to hurt you," she said, and tried to grab his hands, but Ron pulled away from her.
"That's bloody rich, coming from the Brightest Witch of Our Age," Ron groused. "If you didn't know better, who would? Hermione knows best, right? So at what point did 'what's best' become shagging Malfoy behind my bloody back, eh? How long before we split did you fall in with him? Of all people, Hermione!" Ron shook his head and shuddered as he rubbed his nose hard, so hard, in fact, that a sickening crack! was heard throughout the room. His body seized up as his face turned a horrifying shade of purple and his head lurched back into the spine of the couch.
George grabbed at Ron's shaking shoulder to hold him upright as his eyes rolled up in his head and he very obviously fell unconscious. Then Hermione and Ginny each threw their hands over their mouths to hold back gasps of horror and shock as a golden fluid started pouring out of Ron's nostrils.
"What the bloody hell is that?" Fred asked as he dashed across the room to assist his twin with their younger brother.
Percy looked on in distress. "It can't be…ichor?"
Ginny's eyes shot towards her eldest present sibling. "What on earth?"
"The blood of the gods," Hermione murmured, as Fred snorted and George shook his head.
"Our brother may be a national hero, but he's no god, brother," George said. He reached out and swiped a finger across the steadily draining ooze, took a tentative sniff, and then brought it to his tongue to taste it.
"Gross! George! Gold or no, that came from his nose!" Ginny cried.
"For pity's sake, it's not bogeys, Ginny," Fred replied.
"It's Felix," George confirmed.
"From Dean and Seamus's stock I'd presume," Fred continued.
"That PepperMaxX energy potion they'd started brewing during the war," George said.
"Nasty stuff," Fred said with a shudder.
"But dead-useful in a pinch," George admitted.
"Highly addictive," Fred warned.
"And loads of side-effects," George warned, and with simultaneous deep breaths, he and Fred both sang, "short temper, tremors, nose-tweaking, anxiety, insomnia, paranoia, propensity to break into bawdy limericks, randiness, hangnails, acrophobia, and much, much more!"
"Oh my," Hermione and Ginny said in unison.
"That's ridiculous," Percy scoffed.
"It's not ridiculous," George said.
"No brother, it's a dirty, unregulated potion that our brother has obviously been imbibing far too much of, since he's got so much of it in his system, it's literally coming out his nose. What this does explain though, is his erratic and rotten behavior the past few months," Fred observed.
"It doesn't excuse it!" Ginny cried.
"No, it doesn't," George soothed.
Percy broke in with a gasp. "Wait, did you say unregulated? That can't be legal, then! This could cause a terrible scandal if it were to come to the public!" Percy drew himself up sharply and turned to Kingsley. "Minister, as a representative of the ministry I must insist that this potion be further investigated and the brewers held accountable for the damage their product have have caused in its users."
George, Fred and Ginny all rolled their eyes and made to break in, but Percy cut them off with a very Molly-esque glare. "Would you want what has happened to our brother to happen to others? He could have died!" he cried with a tone so close to their mother's that the other three present Weasleys all flinched in automatic response.
"Well," Kingsley broke in. "In light of the fact that Auror Weasley has obviously worked himself to his breaking point – and quite possibly further, with this help of this potion and the burden of the war legacy – I feel it is my duty and responsibility as Minister to make sure that he is taken care of immediately. Are we all in agreement that Auror Weasley needs to see a Healer immediately for the long-term effects of war-stress combined with long-term potion abuse?"
All Weasleys, plus Hermione, nodded emphatically.
"Minister," Ginny added. "Please, for the sake of my family. Please allow Ron the dignity of privately retiring. Or going on a holiday. Don't let the public hear the truth of what has happened. Ron wouldn't want that. He's tried so hard for so long to maintain the Golden Trio Legacy for the community. It would tear him apart to have the public turn against him – and you know they would-"
Kingsley held out his hand. "Miss Weasley, I could not agree more. I think if there is one thing that the public loves, it is a hero that falls from grace. And for once, I do not feel that they deserve any piece of this story. No, I imagine that Percy and I will come up with an exciting tale of adventure and intrigue that we can feed to the Daily Prophet to offset Auror Weasley's long-term absence."
"Oh, it would be an honor, Minister," Percy said passionately.
"And in the meantime, Messers Weasley, if you do not mind collecting some of that, ahem, issue, from Auror Weasley's nose, I would like to have that available for his Healers, as well as for the Wizengamot, when I have them go after these Dean and Seamus characters. I think it's time that they are paid a visit by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
With that, George and Fred said their farewells to Hermione and the others, and made their incapacitated brother ready to leave with the Minister.
Soon after they left, Percy dashed into the other room to retrieve his fiancée, and they too said their goodbyes and headed back to the Wizarding community.
Ginny, Mafalda, and Hermione – who'd been embarrassed enough by this time to run into the bedroom and change into a different set of clothing – tried to make Draco as comfortable as possible as they waited for him to revive on his own. In truth, no more than fifteen or so minutes had passed since Draco had been Stunned into unconsciousness. Mafalda and Ginny had been able to heal all the inflicted damage, now it was only a matter of time before-
"Ohh…the…fuck," Draco groaned from his prone position on the couch.
/…../
Draco's head was pounding like mad. What the fuck had he gotten up to now? Had to have been drinking, as the last time it had hurt this bad…but no.
God, the last time his head had hurt this bad he'd woken up in hospital with a shaved head and a bashed skull. He shot upright, and his hands flew up protectively to grasp at anticipated stubble and stitches.
"Hey, hey, slow down, Draco darling; take it easy for a little while," the most familiar and soothing voice sounded next to his ear as small, warm hands enveloped his arms and embraced him.
Draco's eyes popped open. "Fuck me," he rasped.
Hermione hummed. "I don't really know if that's the best idea right now," she whispered in his ear.
He turned to look at her. "What the fuck happened to me? I feel like I got hit by a car."
Hermione snorted. "More like an angry ex-boyfriend. You definitely got the worst of it, but he's gone now. The minister is taking care of it."
Draco's eyes bugged. "Ex-boyfriend? What the hell's going on? Why don't I remember anything?" He winced, then sagged back against the couch.
Ginny leaned over the side of the couch, letting Jamie's fat face hang over Draco's. "Hey there, good to see you awake again, sunshine. Glad to know my arse of a brother didn't turn you into a gibbering turnip. When you get a chance, remember to ask Hermione how her arm is, and thank Mafalda and me for doing such a smashing job patching up your head. Your new scar looks quite dashing. Hermione, I'm off. We'll see you lot in the morning. I ordered in from the Italian place around the corner for you; Lisa said it will be ready in about fifteen minutes. Get some rest, both of you!"
Hermione hopped up and hugged their friend, and kissed the baby's drool-smeared face, and waved as the last of the Weasleys exited the flat. Mafalda was the last to take her leave.
"Now Draco, as a representative of the Ministry, I need to make you aware of the events of the afternoon, and find out if you are going to pursue pressing charges against Auror Weasley. If so, I am capable of taking a statement from you to present to the Wizengamot. I have with me the facts from the day, as recorded by Mr. Percy Weasley."
Draco looked at Hermione. "I haven't got a fucking clue. Wait, you said ex-boyfriend earlier. You mean Ron? Ron came into our flat and attacked me? And what's this business with your arm?"
Hermione sighed, then got up and retrieved Draco's glasses from the kitchen counter. Mafalda handed Draco the transcript detailing the attack, and the two women watched as Draco's eyes widened in horror as he read over the events of the afternoon.
"He broke your arm!" Draco shouted when he reached that part.
"Technically it was my wrist, but the minister healed it. See? Good as new, I swear, Draco," Hermione said placatingly.
"Mafalda, this is madness! What he did, breaking into our home; we're unarmed, non-magical beings, for Christ's sake! You can't tell me he's getting off with some time in hospital for a bloody drug problem. He could have killed me! God knows he probably wanted to! And what would he have done to Hermione if given the-"Draco broke off and suddenly lurched off the couch and raced towards the loo, where Hermione and Mafalda could hear him being violently ill.
"Do you have any proposals for the Wizengamot concerning the events today and Auror Weasley, Miss Granger?" Mafalda asked quietly as she settled next to the younger woman on the couch.
Hermione sighed. "Honestly, Ms. Hopkirk, I've been thinking very hard about that, trying to look at this from the two furthest ends of the spectrum, I suppose. What would I want to see done to Ron if he were my worst enemy, and what would I want to see done for him if he were my dearest of friends? Ron is, I think, deeply troubled from the war. I suspected it while we were still at Grimmauld Place. It was part of the reason why we separated, besides the fact that we were simply completely incompatible. He'd been much stressed, and was becoming steadily more violent – not towards me, mind you – but in general, his temper was much more volatile than was normal, even for the times we were living in. So, while I don't want to see him in Azkaban-"
"GOD DAMMIT!" An angry roar came from the bedroom.
"Hmm, I imagine Draco's just seen the new scar on his head," Hermione murmured.
Draco stormed out of the bedroom. "I want to see him in Azkaban! Did you see my fucking head?! He nearly killed me!" He pointed to his scalp where his new scar now lived.
"We can't send him to Azkaban, Draco. He needs medical help. I was just about to propose to Ms. Hopkirk that he possibly be restricted to a psychiatric facility for a duration of time. Ron surely has a need to rest just as much so that he can get over his dependency on that potion, on top of his stress from the war."
Mafalda nodded her head, even as Draco scoffed. "I see the validity in that, Miss Granger. I'll speak with the minister about having a discreet Healer evaluation, and then having his actions here today weighed against the results of his evaluation. The duration of his time spent with the mind-Healers in a private, long-term facility will be dependent on the Wizengamot's decision. Are the two of you in agreement on this?"
Draco rolled his eyes. Hermione nodded her head emphatically.
/…../
It was much, much later that evening, and they were blissfully alone in their bed, with no one else within earshot of them, when they were able to find anything resembling humor in the events of their afternoon.
"So, he thought, from all the noise you were making, that I was, not fucking you senseless, but fucking you to death?" Draco asked with a snort.
"No need to be smug, Draco," Hermione warned.
"It's my nature, love. You can't stop it. As I was going to say, Ron Weasley, oblivious tool that he is, couldn't tell the difference between you in the throes of a seriously fantastic shag, and on the brink of an earth-shattering orgasm-"
"Earth-shattering? Bit full of ourselves, aren't we?"
"You denying it?"
"Ah, well…no. I'm a bit irate, actually."
"Missed out on a good finish, love?" Draco cooed as he turned his body so that he could slide his leg in-between the two of hers.
"Possibly," Hermione mumbled as Draco pressed his mouth against hers.
"Me too," he whispered.
"Should probably fix that," she replied.
"Brilliant plan," Draco said as he slipped her sleep-shirt over her shoulders and onto the floor.
As he was pulling her sleep shorts down her legs, Hermione said, "oh, and Draco, I'm throwing those uniforms away. We've both been injured the times we've worn them. They're obviously some sort of accident-and-injury magnet."
Draco shook his head. "Fine with me, love. I prefer you naked, anyway. Those days – when we were kids – I'm perfectly fine being done thinking about them. I love our future. We've got so much to look forward to, why look back?"
Hermione beamed down at him, nestled between her knees, with the moonlight shining down on his pale hair. "You are so right. Why indeed."
To Be Continued.