Ah, I finally got another chapter out! I hope this one gets the ball rolling off on our adventure. Of course, you can make all the guesses you'd like, but remember: nothing in the How To Train Your Auror series is quite what it seems!

A big shout out to LondonsLegend and LightofEvolution for alpha'ing this story for me. I've thrown them a few different plot bunnies out, and they've helped me scoop out the muck and find the pearls. Althought, if they're bunnies, does that make the pearls poo? Probably. Lmao

Thank you to waymay for beta'ing, and thank you to LondonsLegend for also catching some of my errors!

I will leave replies to reviews of the last chapter at the end of this one! Hope ya'll give me some feedback! I'm excited to hear what you think. :D

~A.

It was the fourth of July

You and I were, you and I were

Fire, fire, fireworks
That went of too soon
And I miss you in the June gloom too
I said I'd never miss you
But I guess you never know
May the bridges I have burned
Light my way back home on the Fourth of July

"Fourth of July" by Fall Out Boy

Chapter Five: These Complicated Hearts

Today wasn't Draco's day. With his parents bickering, the in-laws grumbling, Hermione's feathers ruffled, and no narwhal on the menu, he didn't think his day could get much worse.

But he was wrong, like he often was.

Because today he had one more loose end to tie up before the ceremony, but it involved sticking his neck out - something snakes didn't do without knowing they were going to strike. After all, Slytherins weren't often bold unless they knew they could win. However, this was one of those times where being quiet and thoughtful held more merit than showing one's fangs, and so Draco Malfoy strummed the heavy knocker against the door in front of him, holding his breath.

There was a loud groan which sounded like it came from the door, and then chimes rang out behind it. A couple of seconds trickled by before a gruff looking house elf dressed in a dingy, faded towel popped up beside Draco, an irritated expression on its tired face.

"How may Squeaky help Master's unscheduled guest today?" it grumbled out, narrowing its beady eyes.

"Er...hello." Draco eyed the elf uncomfortably. "Is your lady of the house home?"

"Missus is not taking visitors today."

"But you asked how you could help," he countered, "and right now, that would be seeing your Missus."

Squeaky quirked a fluffy eyebrow and sneered, "Missus won't be happy."

"Then she can take it up with me: Auror Draco Malfoy from the Ministry of Magic." He shoved his hand into his pocket and produced his badge, flashing it quickly. True, it probably wasn't in good form to use his status to form a meeting with someone, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and time was short.

After pondering over the badge, Squeaky promptly disappeared. Draco waited cordially, but after a few minutes passed, he became suspicious that Squeaky was having a laugh at Draco's expense. Just as he was about to use the knocker again, there was a click somewhere behind the door, and it swung open in one daunting movement.

"Right...nothing ventured, nothing gained," he muttered as he stepped inside, trying desperately to emulate his fiancée.

The front door took him directly inside a foyer the size of a small drawing room, decorated from head to toe in lilac. The floorboards, the wallpaper, and everything in between seemed to be all shades of the color. Draco was eerily reminded of Dolores Umbridge's obsession with pink, when from across the room, someone shouted at him.

"Auror Malfoy!" Wavy hair the color of the midnight sky bounced in ringlets as the same someone dashed across the foyer, stopping just short of him. "Woah! It's been too long? What are you doing here?"

Draco took in the sight of sea-green eyes blinking up at him wondrously. It was odd - she didn't look a thing like him, and yet she was closer to him than she could ever imagine. Hopefully, if all went well today, he could right one more of his family's wrongs. "Victoria Crabbe," he smirked, dipping his head politely. "Is your mother home?"

"There now...that's...well, that's kind of alright, now isn't it?" Dean pondered. He'd made a small dent in the seemingly endless piles of books, but one could hardly tell. He'd managed to summon the tomes beginning with A through E and organize them, but he was already exhausted and ready for a cup of something strong. With a long sigh, he set his wand on the coffee table and fumbled his way over toward his kitchenette to fish out his bottle of vodka from the freezer. He didn't even bother looking for a shot glass; a twist of the lid later and he guzzled down three shots before wiping his upper lip.

He glanced at the photo hanging on his refrigerator: it was of Luna and him sharing a seaweed flavored milkshake in Diagon Alley last year. Smiling to himself, he took another pull from the bottle. He loved Luna; it was true. Ever since they began dating, Dean knew he'd one day ask her to marry him. He'd visited the various jewelry stores, written down the words he'd recite, even picked out the ring last month. She'd been good for him, pushing him toward his goals. She never judged him on his faults. But something had been holding him back from taking that final step, and it had nothing to do with his career, fears, or commitment issues.

He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall above the fireplace. It was almost time.

"Fuck...what am I doing?" he muttered, taking one last swig of his vodka as he maneuvered around the books and dropped to the floor in front of the fire, crossing his legs. A lightweight by nature, he could already feel the effects of the alcohol as the hour chimed eight in the evening. Like clockwork, the fire began to manifest and crack as it changed form. It took the form of a familiar head.

"Hiya, Dean."

Dean gave a lopsided smile. "Hey, Seamus."

Seamus Finnigan grinned back at him, tilting his head. "Planning on getting shite faced?"

Dean followed his friend's eyes down to the bottle in his hand. "Something like that."

"A tad early, isn't it?"

"Maybe where you are," Dean chuckled, bringing the bottle to his lips. "Where are you, exactly?"

"The States. Arizona, to be specific."

"Blimey...that sounds horrible."

"Eh, it's not so bad. There's Thunderbirds here. You ever see one?"

Dean leaned back on his elbows. "Nah, can't say I have."

"They're gorgeous, they are. When I get back, I'll have to show you some photos."

"Yeah, alright."

A comfortable silence fell between them, and Dean found himself eyeing the fiery version of Seamus' jaw. He'd filled out nicely since their days at Hogwarts. Dean recalled the pudgy cheeks his best friend used to have, the way he'd singed off his eyebrows, and the way his mouth used to taste while they were hidden away in the quidditch locker rooms.

"You're doin' it again," chimed Seamus.

Guilt ran strong through Dean, like an electric current, forcing him to tear his eyes away and stare down at the floor beside him. "Am not." God, was he that transparent? Of course he was - at least, to Seamus. The man practically grew up with him. How would he not know Dean's tells instantly?

"How's Luna?" Seamus asked suddenly, and Dean brought his gaze back up so their sights met.

"She's good," Dean said with a fake cheerfulness, plastering a forced smile on his face. "The, uh, the paper's been good. Wrote an article about Irish Whiskey. Helped us catch a few at large wizards."

"That's good," his friend agreed, nodding. It looked rather odd to see a floating head nodding in the fireplace. "Yeah, that's, uh, good. Good…"

"Is that all you can say? Good?"

"Dunno," Seamus smirked bashfully. "Maybe."

"Ah, you're rubbish."

"And you're at least two sheets to the wind already. Watch out that you don't add one more."

"Piss off." Laughing, Dean swigged down some more alcohol, this time spilling some on the front of his shirt. Seamus laughed at him through the flames, and Dean shot him the bird.

"Careful, mate. Might take you up on that offer," Seamus sniggered playfully. "Teach you a real good lesson."

An immediate blush flushed up the tips of Dean's ears as he wiped away the alcohol dribbling down his chin. "In your dreams, Finnigan."

"Yeah...maybe."

Just like that, the tension was there again. It seemed to always find its way back, no matter how many 'mates' and jokes they layered on top of it. They hadn't been together in nearly a decade, but, still…

He'd never cheat. Dean would never do that. His Gryffindor morality prevented it, but the fleeting want to invite Seamus through the floo skittered across his mind like a stone on the surface of a lake. However, he knew that should he, his would resolve would break, and he didn't need another goddamn mess like the pieces of his shattered heart in the aftermath of their breakup. More so, he would never do that to Luna. He loved her unconditionally. No matter what strange feelings prickled the back of his mind whenever he talked to Seamus, it never changed how he felt about Luna. But he couldn't deny that, since becoming more serious about her, he'd wondered if it showed on his face whenever Seamus would come around for a drink. Luna, to her credit, never brought it up. Maybe she didn't notice...yeah, as if Luna was that daft.

"D'you ever wonder," he asked barely above a whisper, "why this...why we stopped?"

Seamus was quiet for a moment. "Dunno. Different directions, I s'pose."

"Yeah…" Dean swallowed, his mouth dry. He decided that another good shot of vodka would wet his whistle. "S'pose so." That hadn't been his question at all.

"But you've got Luna now," Seamus offered. "And if anyone can put up with your arse, it's her."

"Fuck off," Dean laughed, allowing some of the tension to deflate. No use in pushing it. "But yeah, you might have a point."

"What, uh...what brought that up?"

"S'complicated," Dean slurred, staring at the flickering flames around his friend's face. "Everyone's getting married, or engaged, and...and sometimes I think we're good. You and me. What we have between us. But then you pop off, and…"

"Ah." Seamus nodded. "Yeah, I get it." He tucked his head. "Sorry. Sometimes, I forget myself."

Dean swigged down even more alcohol; he hoped it would guide him on his spiritual journey to the numbness of feelings. "You're the one who left," he reminded Seamus crisply between sips. "Remember?"

"It was a little more complicated than that."

"Was it?"

"Ahhhh, you're knackered."

"So?"

"So, you get right pissy when you're sloshed. Come to think of it, you get right pissy any time." After a thick snort of laughter, he added, "What's with all the books?"

"Hmm?" Dean, eager for the distraction, took the bait. "Oh, it's that library Greg left me."

"Holy Hells. You weren't joking when you said a library! There's more books here than the restricted section at Hogwarts!"

"And probably even more dangerous," Dean noted, leaning over and plucking a random one from the top of a pile. "If there's one thing Greg loved more than lying, it was collecting dangerous objects."

"...Any...adult literature?"

Dean's jaw hung. "Are you asking me if Greg kept erotic novels?"

"Or nudie mags," Seamus smirked at Dean's surprise. "What?"

"It's just...I never considered it." Dean glanced around the room. "Would it be in bad form to be sneaking a peek into a late-friend's debaucheries?"

"You're askin' the wrong bloke about the moralities of that."

"You're a Gryffindor."

"Yeah, but I always thought I would'a done well in Slytherin." Seamus beamed cunningly. "And if he happened to have a thing for blokes, it wouldn't weird you out anyway."

Dean, properly past tipsy by this point, found himself sniggering into the back of his hand. "Still, it'd be awkward explaining it away to Luna that they weren't mine." Not that she'd judge him. Luna was one of the few people Dean was open about his bisexuality with. It wasn't that he didn't trust his friends with the sensitive information. He just thought some things were better left to privacy. After all, he didn't want to know how Harry and Ginny got it on.

"In all seriousness, be careful, yeah?" Seamus' face took a grave turn as his eyebrows knitted together. "I know he was a chum, but Greg Diggle was still a cold blooded murderer."

"Thanks for the reminder," Dean muttered dully. His head pulsed, and his lips felt numb. One good lie down and he'd be out like a light. He struggled to keep his head up as his eyes flickered shut. "Maybe I am a bit knackered."

"Told you. When is Luna coming over to tuck your sorry arse into bed?"

"Huh? Oh, um," he tried desperately to form a coherent thought. "She's in Peru right now with'a story. Won't be back until the wedding. S'alright. I can do it myself." With a feeble push, he attempted to stand but fell hard back on his arse. Laughing, he added, "Orrrrr not."

Seamus sighed. "I'll be right there."

"What -no- don't-" Dean began, but the fire snuffed out like it had been doused in water. Shivers danced up his spine as the fireplace lit to life again, this time with green sparks and fire that danced like a storm before Seamus stepped through them, dressed casually in lounge pants and baggy t-shirt with a Gryffindor logo stitched into it. His hair was floppy, dangling over his eyes, and he wore a crooked smile.

"You're sucha lightweight," he teased in his Irish cadence, gawking down at his best friend.

Brandishing the half-empty bottle of vodka, Dean countered, "I'm a completionist."

"Looks like you'll be putting that projecting on hold. Come on, get up."

"No, I-" But Seamus already had his fingers locked around Dean's wrists, hoisting the young Auror to his feet. Where Dean was all lean muscle, Seamus wore it in bulk around his forearms and shoulders. He was shorter than Dean, but not by much, so they stood almost nose-to-nose now. Seamus gave neither of them time to think on it as he looped a sturdy arm around Dean's torso and propped him up. "On you get. That's it. Nice and easy."

The room began to spin as Dean took his first few steps toward the bedroom, and he finally felt thankful to Seamus for coming to his rescue. Together, they stumbled down the short hallway to the last door on the left. Seamus kicked it open with his foot and led Dean onward, nearly tossing him like a sack of potatoes onto the bed. Or maybe that was because Dean was too drunk to distribute his weight. He was too far gone to think about it.

"Thanks, mate," he said, shuffling until his head met a soft pillow. "Brings back memories."

"Does it?"

"Remember us getting shite-faced in Brighton? I was so plastered-"

"Oh, yeah! I had to carry you on my back all the way back to the hotel because I couldn't levitate you in front of the muggles." Seamus beamed fondly at the memory. "A lot of fun, that was." Though his last bit was sarcastic, Dean didn't take it personally. He remembered exactly how that night had ended: his head on Seamus' chest, listening to his heartbeat as he was lulled into a drunken sleep.

"Seamus?"

"Hmm?"

"I really need to…" Before Dean could finish, he turned quickly over the edge of the bed and vomited on the floor. The smell was rancid (maybe he shouldn't have eaten those crab cakes Luna left in the fridge and mixed them with alcohol). Seamus, to his credit, patted Dean's back until he'd finished his upchuck, and then he proceeded to pull Dean back up to his pillow and magick the sick away.

"Be right back, yeah? Gonna get you some water."

"Sorry…"

"Sorry? For what?" Seamus tilted his head. "For being piss drunk? I've been inside yer arsehole, Dean. It don't get more personal than that."

"You're a real charmer," muttered Dean, squeezing his eyes shut because he didn't want to see the smug expression on Seamus' face. He felt the bed shift and heard the clunk of boots on the carpet. It wasn't until he heard the door shut that Dean grabbed up the second pillow on his bed and proceeded to scream loudly into it.

"But Mum! I wanna talk to Auror Malfoy, too!"

"I'm sorry, kitten," Irma Crabbe replied stiffly as she flicked the front door open with a wave of her hand. "But this is adult business. Go check on the mandrakes in the greenhouse." She refused to acknowledge her daughter's distraught expression as Victoria was forced to leave the house. Victoria, not-so-subtly, slammed the door on the way out, shaking the paintings on the walls. Former Crabbes tucked away in their frames muttered and whispered, but if there was one thing knew about the Crabbe lineage, it was that they wouldn't fuss about things out loud. They would stew and let it simmer.

No doubt Victoria probably had some of those qualities, but she was also a Malfoy, and Malfoys always found a way to get even.

Dangerous, that one, Draco thought to himself.

"So, Auror Malfoy, let's, as the muggles say, 'get down to brass tacks.'" Irma folded her arms over her bodice, raising a cool eyebrow. "Why are you here?"

"I think you and I both know the answer to that one," he said cooly, trying his best to appear more confident than he was. "Surely you've received my letters. There were ten."

"Yes." Irma nodded. "Every one of them burned brightly in my fireplace."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Missus Crabbe-"

"Let me stop you there, young Malfoy." Irma threw a hand up, her eyes skimming over his face. "My, but you do look like your father, don't you?" In any other instance, Draco would have taken this as a compliment, but the way Irma's eyes burned furiously told him it was the exact opposite. "No matter." She shook herself out of whatever daze she was in. "She won't be attending. I'm sorry."

"But it's my wedding," Draco insisted with a huff of annoyance. "Now I've been civil enough to keep the secrets between us strictly between us. But one day, she's going to find out the truth. And when she does, don't you think she's going to be a little irate that she didn't attend her only living brother's wedding?"

It was a deep cut, Draco knew, and the wound was just as tender for him, but it had to be said. For months, he'd tried to reason with her civilly, but they were running out of time.

"It would be best to watch how you speak of the dead, Auror Malfoy," Irma warned.

"You act as if he wasn't one of my best mates growing up."

"Best mates? Is that how you remember it? Because as I recall, Malfoys don't have friends; they find men to kick around and use before discarding them at their earliest conveniences."

Anger seared the edges of Draco's reason, and he literally bit his tongue to keep himself from saying something foolhardy. "It's not my fault my father chose my mother. But as I recall, it still takes two to have an affair, and you aren't exactly innocent either. To deny a Malfoy their place-"

"That's just it, isn't it? She isn't a Malfoy." Irma took a daunting step forward. "I raised her. Clothed her. Comforted her when she was sick - through the bad dreams and the scrapes. She is every bit a Crabbe. And I won't have you mucking that up by getting her involved in your family drama." Reading Draco's face, she added, "Oh, please. Your family has had more scandals than a night at the opera mixed with all the works by William Shakespeare. Besides - you already had one wedding, didn't you? And you did just fine without Victoria."

"I didn't know I had a sister then."

"And you still don't. Family is more than blood, Auror Malfoy. You'd do best to remember that."

Draco was just about to open his mouth to snap off a quip of his own when something inside his breast pocket began to vibrate and warm. He fished it out, staring down at the magicked golden coin each Auror was required to carry with them at all times starting a year ago. Hermione had brought the idea to Potter, stemming from their glory days Dumbledore's Army. It was brilliant, really. A means of communication disguised as a galleon, quicker than owl or floo, perfected in a way that personal messages were just as easy as ones to the entire division. He watched letters appear around the edging, and his face puckered.

"This is a tad awkward...may I use your floo?"

"Excuse me?"

But Draco had already brushed past Irma Crabbe, heading in the direction of the floo across the foyer. He wasted no time in grabbing the sack of powder off the mantle and throwing it into the flames. "Sorry, Missus Crabbe, but I'll have to take a rain check on the bickering."

He didn't know what to expect when he arrived, but he certainly didn't plan on nearly knocking smack-dab into a stack of books as tall as him. It was difficult to maneuver out of the green flames and find standing room in Dean's cramped living room, what with all of the piles of books. Diggle's library, he realized, taking it all in. He looked down at the still vibrating coin in his hand and back up to scan the room. "Dean?" he called out, but no one answered.

Agitated, he hopped (no, not hopped, because Malfoys didn't hop) around the room, avoiding books and the coffee table like he was playing 'the floor is lava' - only replace 'floor' with 'books.' Eventually, he got past the zombie hoard of inked pages and called out to his friend again, heart slamming his ribcage. "Thomas, come on! This isn't funny!"

Slowly, he made his way down the hallway, noting the dripping faucet in the kitchen as he passed. The temptation to turn the damned thing off wasn't as strong as his need to know his friend was alright, and so he continued to proceed until, with a careful push, he opened the bedroom door.

What he found made his blood chill.

Dean Thomas. On the floor. Covered in blood and clutching his Auror galleon which no doubt reflected the words scribed on Draco's.

'Send help. He's gone. Dean.'

Replies to reviews:

rabradley09: Thank you! I'm trying to get back into the swing of things!
Timelord2162: A nice wine, perhaps, to go with their whines? And cheese!
BrittMackenzie: Glad to be back! Thanks for reading.
Pgoodrichboggs: Maybe a good campaign slogan like "N.A.G." -Narwhals against...well, I didn't think it through lmao
Greek Wise Girl: Loves and kisses right back! Omg you flatter me so much!
LightofEvolution: OMG the Mickey Mouse references were spot on lmao
Grahamgirl93: All the usual build up before it all comes crashing down XD
Sam Wallflower: Knowing that you're on this journey with me, and have been since the first HTTYA, just tickles my soul!
Gator2076: Thank you!
Jsl2187: Glad to hear!
Jyn-peridot: I totally agree that he deserved it. Lucius might be slightly reformed, but he's still an arsehole.
Nomajmeg: Love the penname!
Katiana96: I'm so glad Jameson is coming off as real, considering he's an OC!
Habababa: "And I'm back with the madness" - to quote Fall Out Boy. I will never abandon my stories! Have no fear. :)
CuppaTea90: Not too much to hope! But it might be a bumpy road to see if there is one!
MichalaJ: I'm extremely flattered! So glad you're loving this series!
Annamo85: *Evil voice* Gooood, good… my plan is working…
Martee98: They totally do! Been through enough lmao
Inkless Feather: Hopefully they'll be able to go through the adventure of a lifetime, but oh...oh, it's going to be so hard getting there.
Tmtcltb: Hehehe, I know your penname meaning now...I can picture Jameson being quite a stresser behind closed doors. XD
SnivellusSnape: (Blushes to a deep crimson) Your review has left me stunned. I can't thank you enough for all of your kindness and uplifting words!
Vickety: Never quite a good wedding without everything crumbling before it even begins, hmm? Lol it's so true. XD
DevlinTrue: Awww, what an inspiring review! I hope you never give up your passion for writing! And I'm so glad that, out of all the fanfics out there, you're reading mine. Thank you so much!
AureliaAndMidnight: Why the left sack and not the right? XD
Riversgirl75: (Hands you a paper bag) It only gets rough from here on out, mate.
Megasaur: HOLY CRAP. You read all of it in 3-4 nights? I'm IMPRESSED! Thank you!
Redbookbluebook: I legit got a smile on my face when I read that you love the universe I've created. I can't tell you how proud I am of this series. It's probably my favorite thing I've ever written, and I can only hope I make everyone proud with this final installment.
Eembee: That damn Diggle - always up to something, isn't he? Hahaha even from beyond the grave, no one trusts him. I love it.
SnovySnow: I'm not crying….you're crying...yeah. That's it. (Seriously, that review was touching as Hell. Thank you so much!)

Please leave a review if you can! They always brighten up my day. :)