Draco woke early and Hermione was still sleeping, so he slipped out of bed quietly and dressed for the day. Hermione deserved to rest. Even though she had been resting since she was attacked, the day before had been emotional for both of them, so he'd go ahead to the Apothecary and make sure everything was in order before she arrived.
When he had visited Ginny the afternoon before to pick up Scorpius, Molly had been there and had all but begged to have Scorpius over first thing, before his late morning nap. She claimed that once a month was not often enough to spend with one of her grandchildren, and Draco was overjoyed. Molly and Arthur Weasley were the only grandparents his children would know.
He smiled at his son as he entered the nursery. Scorpius was almost 3 months old and babbling away to himself in his crib, his hands and feet kicking into the air as he talked.
"Good morning," Draco said, leaning over the crib and smiling at his adorable son. His hair had grown out a bit, covering his head with the exact same shade of blond as Draco's, and he grinned happily when he saw his dad.
Draco lifted him out of the crib and quickly got him ready for his day with Molly, packing a few of Scorpy's favourite toys and extra nappies.
"Hello?" He called as he opened the side door of the Burrow, letting himself into the kitchen.
"Hey Draco," Ron said, who was sitting at the table full of mismatched chairs looking absolutely miserable.
"Hey," he responded, setting Scorpius' bag down before taking a seat across from Ron and looking at him in confusion. "What's up?"
Ron sighed, running his hands through his hair.
"Lavender and I are finished," he said after a moment. "I left this morning."
Draco was stunned silent, staring at the redhead across from him in shock.
"What happened?" he finally asked, shifting Scorpius so he was sitting on his lap, where he watched his own fist open and close in wonder.
"She's just…it was miserable. She doesn't like any of my friends and never wants me to even see them, and things between us haven't been good for a long time. I was staying for Hugo's sake, but I feel like him growing up in a house where his parents are constantly fighting isn't any healthier than us just living separately. We're still working everything out, but it's over."
"Wow," Draco said, feeling some empathy for the other man. He couldn't imagine his life without Hermione, but their relationship was much different than Ron and Lavender's had been. "I'm sorry to hear that."
Ron shrugged half heartedly. "You saw her last time we were all out together; she isn't happy and neither am I."
"So are you just going to stay here for the time being?"
Ron sighed again, sadness radiating from him. "I don't know," he admitted. "We haven't gotten anything worked out yet, really, but she's always hated our flat, so she might end up leaving."
Draco hummed in sympathy as Scorpius babbled, and when Molly entered the kitchen the baby started making even more noise.
"Good morning, sunshine!" Molly exclaimed, immediately taking Scorp from Draco's arms and snuggling him into her rather large bosom. "We're going to have such a good day today! Hugo will be here soon and we are all going to visit the orchard at the back of the meadow."
"That sounds like it'll be a great day, I packed him plenty of warm clothes, so I'm sure he will enjoy himself. I'm going to run into the shop for a bit and make sure everything is ready for Hermione when she wakes up. She's been itching to get back to work. I should be back around noon to get him, give or take," Draco said, getting to his feet. "Be a good boy," he said to his son as he prepared to leave. "I love you."
"He's always a little angel," Molly commented, and Draco and Ron shared a look. "Take your time, dear," she said to Draco as he nodded at both adults and took his leave.
He arrived at the apothecary a little before half nine, taking his time wandering down the icy cobblestone streets. So much had changed in the last year, he noticed. People no longer hurried to get away from him as he strolled, and even though that blasted newspaper article from a week ago, with photos of him, Hermione, and Scorpius leaving the hospital were still all over the place, the speculation hadn't sparked outrage. No one hissed at him, spit at him, or tried to make his commute worse with bad behaviours, so he just carried on.
Surprisingly, the shop was locked when he got to the door. He opened it quickly and let himself inside, confused. Simon Sallow was supposed to open up at 9 am every weekday.
"Hello?" he called, and Simon came from the back room, a little unsteady on his feet, eyes fixed on Draco. "Everything all right, Simon? Why hasn't the shop been opened yet?" Draco asked him, confused.
Simon didn't say anything, eyes flicking down to check his wristwatch before returning to Draco's face.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked again, beginning to approach the employee, whose narrowed eyes stayed fixed on him.
But then Simon's skin started to bubble, his skin twisting in an unnatural way as he continued to stare at Draco. He started growing, getting taller by the second, and facial hair started to sprout on his chin and cheeks, growing into a short beard.
Robards grinned at Draco once the transformation was complete, commenting, "You're late."
Draco's rage hit him like a bludger to the chest; he hated this man, wanted him to hurt, and before he even really registered what he was doing, he had approached Robards and punched him squarely in the nose. The crunch beneath his fist was one of the most satisfying things he had ever felt, and watching the blood spurting from his nostrils made Draco smile.
But Robards wasn't Head Auror for nothing. He retaliated quickly, shoving Draco back and drawing his wand with blurring speed.
"I'll let you have that one," Robards said, "but that's it."
Draco reached for his own wand, but with a flick of his wand, Robards' magic shoved him backwards. Draco tripped over his own feet and slammed awkwardly into one of the shelves in the middle of the room, which took down three others as it fell. Glass vials and bottles exploded, sending shards flying that pierced both mens' skin in various places.
"You fuckin - " Draco started, and shot off a diffindo from his wand, which only nicked Robards on the cheek as the other man all but threw himself on top of Draco.
Draco was taller and generally seemed bigger, but Robards was stronger, his bulk pushing Draco down into broken glass with his hip pressing painfully into the splintered side of a shelf. Robards reached out and grabbed Draco tightly by the hair and collar, gripping tightly enough to rip out several blond strands. As soon as he'd secured the younger man, Robards released Draco's collar and, brandishing his wand, stepped into a turn that pulled them both through apparition.
Draco, who had not been ready for the pull of apparition, fell to his knees in a dim room built of greyish stones. Robards, obviously prepared for this outcome, pointed his wand at Draco with a steady hand and simply said, "incarcerous."
Draco was immediately bound, his wrists tied in front of his body and his ankles strapped together by heavy ropes. He growled, enraged, and Robards flicked his wand again and forced Draco into a standing position with his arms above his head, his shoulders straining painfully as he was secured to a rope from the low ceiling. His wand clattered to the floor by his feet before Robards summoned it and placed it into the pocket of his cloak with a smile.
"I'm sure you had grand ideas about killing me, like a gallant hero," Robards stated casually, stepping around Draco in a circle. "But to be honest, I really thought a Death Eater like you would put up more of a fight. It seems you let yourself get rusty."
Draco glared, his mind working quickly. He thought he could free himself from the ropes with some magical effort, but he needed his timing to be right and he needed to be sneaky about it so that he could unbind himself and attack immediately. This was the Head of the Auror department, and Draco was sure that Robards knew magic well beyond his abilities.
"What I would like to know," Robards continued pleasantly, "is how you figured it out. I worded the Oath pretty thoroughly." A slight grimace crossed his face. "Honestly, I spent quite a bit of time and effort there, but obviously it wasn't foolproof."
Draco wasn't going to answer; he didn't owe this fucker anything, but he realised it might be in his best interest to keep him talking.
"I am going to have to kill you," Robards said, shaking his head. "Hermione can't name me, of course, but you… you could talk about it freely, if you chose, and I can't let that happen. Too much is at stake. I simply can't let a Death Eater ruin my career, everything I've set out to accomplish for the Wizarding World. Not again. And I certainly won't have you ruining everything I've accomplished with Hermione Granger, either."
Draco held his glare, gathering his magic inside himself. "You haven't accomplished anything with her, you prick!" he spat. "And you never will. She got away from you once and she'd do it again." He held that in his soul; Hermione was strong. She would survive. She'd find a way out if she ever found herself trapped by Robards again.
Robards slapped him, a sharp and agile swat of the hand. "No magic, if you please. It's quite rude to hex your host, you know." The distraction shattered Draco's concentration. He grasped for it mentally, struggling to suppress his fears and focus on saving himself. Robards strode toward a shelf in the wall, muttering to himself about oaths and deaths and his just desserts. His fingers hovered over a rack of vials, finally selecting a brownish-red potion.
"I don't know precisely what she told you, but I'm curious. Did she tell you how much she loved slobbering all over my cock?" He smiled, closing his eyes in reminiscence. "Drink," he commanded, holding the vial in front of Draco, who clenched his teeth tightly, pursed his lips and shook his head.
A merry bust hasty slash of the wand caused Draco to gasp in pain against his better judgement, blood seeping from a cut near his left hip bone. Robards took the opportunity to wrench Draco's jaw open further and pour the unknown brew down his throat.
"There we are, much better." Robards smiled, ignoring Draco's gasps for air. Whatever the potion was, it burned from the inside out.
Fuck, he thought. Not good.
With an effort, he kept his attention on the Ministry wizard, who was still speaking.
"Yes, she loved to spread herself open for me, wherever I wanted her to. Whenever. However. Did she tell you how she'd scream my name, tell me she loved me, beg me to fuck her into the mattress again and again?"
"She didn't love any of that," Draco countered, his voice hoarse from whatever potion had been forced down his throat. "You drugged her with a lust potion. It says more about you than it does about her."
"No, no, no. It was a nice little cocktail, to be sure, but no lust potions. That was all her, you know." He adjusted his cuffs, pressing two fingers to Draco's carotid like a Muggle healer. "She was the perfect little slut for me, a little fat, but that didn't matter when she was so willing to do everything I wanted her to. No potion does that; she's a whore through and through." He grimaced again, checking the security of Draco's bonds.
"Of course, she wasn't supposed to leave. She was my prize, you know. My happily ever after for all the sacrifices I endured, for everything I lost in two wars." Robards' mouth tightened, and his cheek twitched, then he sighed. "I could live with her running off, for a while; sometimes women want a bit of space. They want to feel in control, to punish us…foolish, emotional creatures. Well, as long as she kept her mouth shut. But then I saw the newspaper article, I saw her with you and a baby."
Draco wheezed, his vision blurring and clearing at odd intervals. The burning had turned to ice, the pins and needles of a limb falling asleep except over every spare centimetre of his body. Robards checked his pulse again and pulled his eyelid wide for examination.
"Yes, coming along nicely… As I say, I didn't even know she was pregnant - Potter never mentioned it. I kept him close to keep track of her, you know, see when she was ready to come home. You'd be surprised how much he shared. I just needed to ask casual questions every so often - not enough that he'd get suspicious - and I knew a lot. But he never once mentioned her being pregnant with a fucking Death Eater.
Well, I needed to see her in person, see if she had really given herself over to the enemy, and imagine my surprise when you accompanied her to that interview. And you knew - it was obvious, the way you were looking down at me - like I'm some monster, when we all know that title is yours."
The hair on Draco's neck prickled. How had no one in the office noticed their head of department's insanity? Fear and determination drove him, and he fought through the pain, focusing on his magic and on the enemy. The pins and needles had grown to stabbing pains; he had to end this before it was too late.
The other man shook himself. "She shouldn't have been able to tell you anything and frankly, I'm quite put out about the whole thing. If I hadn't been so generous, my pet wouldn't have decided that you're a suitable replacement for me, wasting herself by breeding with scum like you." A moue of distaste soured his expression.
"You don't fucking own her," Draco spat, his bound hands shaking with rage. "You're nothing to her. No one. A bad memory, that's it. She has a great life now, a son who loves her unconditionally and a boyfriend who would do anything to protect her."
"Shut up!" Robards snapped, his wand flicking to land another cut on Draco's midsection, and Draco knew the way to make Robards lose his focus was to keep the conversation on Hermione's personal success, to show him that she was thriving without him, that he hadn't been anything to her. Of course, it was a gamble, since it also seemed to drive the man to cut him to shreds, but if it came down to it, he would die willingly if it meant taking Robards with him and giving Hermione and Scorpius the chance to have a full life. A life without living in the shadow of fear caused by the monster in front of him.
"She has a booming business, an amazing friend group that continues to grow, even now, and she's the strongest witch I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. You're so insignificant you had to drug her to get her to even take a second look at you, but she shares my bed every night of her own free will."
"Crucio!" Robards growled, the spell sinking into Draco's chest.
The pain was horrible, but he'd honestly had worse growing up. He grit his teeth, refusing to let Robards hear him cry out. His body was shaking with pain and sweat rolled down his forehead, but he didn't scream even once, regardless that he was held under for much longer than his father's usual, or the fact that the unknown potion was causing all sorts of other pain.
"I should have known that spell would do little to a Death Eater," Robards sneered, the calm mask settling back over his face. "I obviously need to get more creative. You know, Potter told me of a spell - something he learned in Hogwarts…"
Draco couldn't help but wince; he knew exactly what Robards was referring to.
"I used it on my precious Hermione once, just to see what would happen. I enjoyed it, to be honest, as much I enjoyed using the knives, and the rope and cigar burns. Oh, the marks gave me immense pleasure, you know, and looked so artistic scattered across her skin. I healed her afterward, of course. Well, most of the time, anyway. I couldn't bring myself to erase all my work, but despite her insatiable appetites, a certain amount of repairs were required. Any good pet requires attention and maintenance, after all. There should be a good number left; I didn't bother to see to her before the end; she bored me by then. I can almost guarantee that her arsehole was bleeding for days aft - "
Draco exploded - literally. He had been gathering his powers deep within his chest, but he could only hang onto control so long while being provoked, and power shot out of him like a crashing wave.
It slammed into Robards, who flew backward into the wall as the bindings disintegrated from Draco's hands and feet, but he heard other screams as well, and looked toward the staircase as Hermione hurtled down into the cavernous basement.
Draco swayed, focused on staying upright through the pain that simultaneously burned through his chest and sent stabbing pains wracking through his body.
Where was his damn wand?
"You'll pay for that you fucking Death Eater - oh, my stars! My little pet is home! Come here, my love," he said, his voice oily again.
"Don't fucking talk to me," she snapped from the bottom of the stairs, taking in the situation.
"Oh, sweetheart. We both know that you belong with me, that you want me deep inside of you; remember all the fun we had together? Remember how much you love me? I know I tired of you after a while, but there; we can do it again! I'll even let your boyfriend walk away, you know, and promise to never touch his brat. Everything will be good again now that you're here, now that you'll spread those thighs for me again…" His eyes rolled back in obvious pleasure and his wand twitched.
Hermione glared so fiercely that even Draco flinched, his eyes blurring intermittently as he watched her flick her wand in a complex pattern, shooting a curse at the Head Auror, who blocked it with a cold laugh. "My love, I do enjoy our little games," he murmured.
She fired another curse and turned toward Draco, prepared to run to him when Robards yelled, "sectumsempra!"
The curse was worse than it had been when he was a teenager, this time cast by a proficient wizard and not another teenage boy who had no idea what he was doing. Whatever sludge Robards had given him earlier obviously wasn't doing him any good, either, as his reaction time was slowed significantly and he was unable to dodge the curse.
Deep lacerations appeared all over Draco's body, tearing his clothes to shreds as he spun through the air and slammed onto the concrete floor. His face and chest were immediately split open and bleeding everywhere, the pain worse than even the prolonged Cruciatus curse he had been held under, and he could vaguely hear screaming beneath the ringing in his ears.
"Draco! No!" Hermione screamed, tears immediately blurring her vision as she stumbled to him, dropping to her knees beside him. A rough hand grabbed her upper arm tightly and yanked her backward, away from Draco as Robards spoke cajolingly to her.
"Come on, Hermione; you don't need this Death Eater trash, not when you finally have me back. You outwitted those oafs I sent after you last week, obviously unaware that they were just collecting you for me, but you've proven your point. I'll admit I was jealous of this arsehole at first, until I realised that was your plan all along, my pet. Come over here and stop crying, it's all right, now. I'll take you home and I promise I won't restrain you this time - unless you ask, of course."
Hermione jumped to her feet, trying to wrench her arm free, guarding Draco with her wand extended towards the deranged man squeezing her arm. Draco groaned in pain and confusion as he bled out onto the floor, his blood a strange colour as it pooled onto the dirty concrete floor.
"Help him, Harry!" Hermione screamed, stepping away and dragging Robards with her. Draco, dazed, looked over to see that Harry was there, frozen on the second to last step, other Aurors flooding down the stairs behind him.
He was probably shattered to realise the implications of what his boss had admitted.
A quick stinging jinx to the fingers forced Robards to release her, and Hermione started duelling him with everything she had. Their wands flashed through the air as Harry finally moved from the stairs and the other Aurors were able to get into the basement. Someone was holding Draco's head up, yelling about getting him to St. Mungo's, but all Draco could focus on was Hermione, fighting for her life against the Head Auror.
He watched through slightly blurred vision as if in slow motion Hermione's trainer caught on an uneven stone, tripping her and causing her to stumble forward as Robards shot a yellow curse from his wand. Hermione's eyes widened in fear for a fraction of a second as she flailed to bring her wand arm up, her other hand reaching out to steady herself against the far wall.
"Protego!" Hermione shouted at the last second, her shield flaring to life around her and ricocheting the spell back upon the caster.
Robards, having turned to face the perceived greater threat of multiple Aurors, was not as quick with his shield charm. Much later, Draco would jokingly blame it on his age. Harry would snort and say his overconfidence and utter delusion were more likely the culprits.
But the yellow spell spun backward and sunk into Robards, directly into his chest above his heart. His skin peeled, turning inside out and his insides spewed all over the room, splattering Hermione, Draco, and every Auror present in hot viscera, blood, and bone shards.
Hermione rushed to Draco, screaming in fear and covered in bits of Robards. She wiped hysterically at the odd coloured blood covering him, attempting various healing spells. Her voice began echoing in Draco's head as the darkness finally closed in around him.
—-
It was a sheepish Harry who visited Hermione in the hospital the next morning - she wasn't hurt physically, but she was traumatised by the previous day's events and the fact that she had inadvertently murdered someone.
She was on a steady intake of calming draught and a therapist was scheduled to see her later that day.
Draco was in his own bed that had been pushed beside hers, but he wasn't awake. He wouldn't be for days yet, as the healers had put him in a magically induced coma to ensure a proper recovery. They had given him blood replenishing potions and taken samples of his blood, mostly from his clothes as he hadn't enough to spare. They were still unravelling the various effects of the potions in his system. Some of his wounds still hadn't clotted, even now.
Hermione had been laying on her side, staring at him, all morning. His face and body were mostly covered in a thick green paste with bandages covering them, and she had spent longer than she wanted to admit crying over the fact that he wasn't awake. That she hadn't seen Scorpius at all. That she had caused someone to die. She wanted to mourn in Draco's arms as he told her everything would be fine, but that couldn't happen.
He had been hurt badly. His body would randomly tremor, proof of the Cruciatus that he had been held under, and he often moaned in pain, even asleep, if he moved too much. The healers said one of the effects of the potion fed to him by Robards seemed to have targeted the pain receptors in Draco's nervous system, sending everything in his body haywire and firing at odd times, with the intent to shut everything down after a few hours of blinding pain. Being awake before his healing was complete would be too traumatic and might kill him.
All because one man was obsessed with not getting caught for his crimes.
"Robards' funeral is tomorrow," Harry said casually, and Hermione shivered at the name. Harry sighed. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. None of this should have happened, and when I realised where we were, who was in that basement, and heard him talking to you like that, I just froze. I'm sorry, I know I failed you. I couldn't believe what I was hearing."
Hermione just shook her head. She hadn't spoken since Robards had exploded into a pile of blood and guts.
"Scorpius is fine with Molly for now, but we can bring him in to see you later today if you'd like?"
Hermione shook her head again. He was a baby and likely wouldn't remember anything from this time in his life, but she didn't want him to see his father bleeding and lifeless in a hospital bed.
Harry sighed again, unsure what to do.
"Ron is staying at Molly's too, for now. He and Lavender broke it off, and she's holding the flat hostage as payback for him leaving."
Hermione just rolled away, turning her back to Harry so she could stare at Draco as his chest rose and fell continuously.
Entirely focused on Draco's breathing, she didn't hear Harry leave.
—-
Hermione didn't speak to her therapist when she visited later that day, and didn't speak to anyone else who entered their room either. She'd take her potions, eat her mediocre hospital food, and sleep, but she didn't speak.
It went that way for days, while she laid there, unmoving, staring at Draco and asking any God who was listening to please let him wake up and be okay. No one was sure of his status. Most of the bleeding was under control now, but Hermione had already been told he'd carry scars from the curse. She didn't care one bit. She just wanted him to wake up.
So she watched him, waiting for any hint that he was coming back to her.
On the fifth day of their hospital stay, his fingers started twitching - and not from residual tremors from the Cruciatus curse. They were reaching for something, searching, and a few moments later Draco groaned and opened his eyes.
Hermione sat up immediately, leaning into his space to make absolutely sure that he was awake and she wasn't just dreaming it, and when he smiled at her, she broke.
"Hey, hey," Draco soothed, his voice gravelly. He lifted his arm with a small grimace and rested his hand on her shoulder. "It's okay."
Hermione shook her head, relieved beyond anything to hear his voice, and then reached for the small button on the wall behind the bed - it held a Protean charm that would summon a Healer. She jammed her finger into it numerous times until a Mediwitch came sweeping into the room, looking relieved to see Draco awake.
Hermione stifled her cries as she listened to the Mediwitch explain to Draco that he had been sleeping for almost six days, and that his wounds were healed to the best of their abilities, but the scars would be permanent. She conjured a mirror and showed him that he had a large slicing scar down his face that went through his eyebrow, thankfully missing his eyeball, and arcing over the bridge of his nose before ending on the opposite cheek.
He felt a twinge of regret and hoped his scars wouldn't haunt Hermione as badly as hers had. Truthfully, he would take a thousand more if it meant that Hermione and Scorpius would be safe. He asked the Mediwitch when they could go home, when he could see Scorpius, and whether Hermione was okay.
The Mediwitch answered his questions as professionally as possible; they could leave in a couple days time, after Draco had proven he was strong enough and that the potions and Cruciatus exposure weren't affecting his nerves and muscles too badly. She told him that Hermione needed to speak to a professional about her trauma before she could be sent home, that Scorpius could visit him whenever they liked and that Hermione had actually denied his visits over the last week.
Draco raised his head and looked at Hermione in a mix of concern and confusion, but she looked away after a moment, her shaking fingers pressed over her lips.
The Mediwitch waved her wand over Draco and inspected his chart while he sat quietly, absorbing the information the nurse had given him.
"Are we allowed to…" Draco gestured at their beds that were pushed together when she was finally done with her inspection and the Mediwitch seemed to understand his question. She sighed but nodded, and Draco was immediately pulling Hermione onto his lap with the smallest grunt of pain, holding her tightly to his chest. Her tears broke free again and she started sobbing, and Draco looked at the Mediwitch with concern, but she seemed relieved.
"She hasn't spoken to anyone, nor showed any emotion at all since you were both brought in," the nurse told him quietly as he soothed his girlfriend as best as he could. "We were beginning to think something had actually happened to her brain, or she was under some sort of spell that we couldn't detect, so I'm actually glad to see this, as heartbreaking as it is."
Draco was surprised, but held Hermione to himself tightly.
"Can you please let Harry Potter and Molly Weasley know that I'm awake, and we'd like Scorpius brought in as soon as they can manage it?"
"Of course," the Mediwitch said, leaving them alone so they could have some privacy.
"I killed him," Hermione whispered as soon as they were alone. "It's my fault he died."
"You deflected his spell, Hermione. You protected yourself. If you hadn't done that, then you would have been the one who was dead. Forgive me, but I much prefer it this way. He took enough from you and didn't deserve your life too."
Hermione shuddered in his arms, grieving that part of herself that had always been considered innocent; she'd gone through an entire war without murdering anyone.
"Why didn't you want to see Scorpius?" Draco asked nervously, a thousand different scenarios invading his mind in mere seconds.
"I didn't want him to see how messed up I am, and you in a hospital bed, not moving. Not talking to him. Not playing with him. He wouldn't have understood."
Draco nodded, relieved. She still wanted him. Wanted them. He could understand her reasoning, and he just held her as she cried, letting go of her fear that despite everything, she would lose him, too.
