A/N: Hi everyone, this is my first Dramione fic, first fic with a music accompaniment, and my second fic in general so please be gentle with me! I hope that you enjoy this. I'm planning on updating hopefully about once every two weeks (maybe a little bit more frequently to start with, and depending on my holidays and things). Please leave a review or a follow or something so I know what you think :)

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Universe belongs to JK Rowling. I do not profit in any way from this.

Song: What are you waiting for? - My Favorite Highway
Lyrics: Is there anyone out there who is listening to anything that I say?/ Is there anyone out there who can take my hand? So/ come on come on what are you waiting for?/ Waiting for your life to end to begin again/ No you get back up and you try again…

Chapter One: Olive Branch

It had been one month since the Battle of Hogwarts and Hermione couldn't help but feel like the torment of the war was relentlessly ongoing. Nothing seemed to have changed, really. On the surface things were "better", like how Kingsley had been appointed temporary Minister for Magic, how she and Ron had finally had their first awkward date, how Voldemort was still very dead. Still, one month later and she knew there were remaining Death Eaters out there with their insane ideologies, still every night she had nightmares of torture, red eyes, dead loved ones, and no one had even begun to process how to move on.

On this particular day, Hermione was dressed in a well-tailored pinstripe suit, hair tamed and pulled back into a low ponytail, and short, work appropriate heels. She met Harry at the lobby of the Ministry of Magic, her heels clicking on the polished floor. Looking up, she saw the newly erected statue in place of the squashed muggles, where Lady Justice stood tall, holding her scales in one hand, and a wand in the other. She smiled quickly and rushed to greet her best friend with a hug, taking his arm as they made their way towards the elevators together. Ron had forgone this particular trial, sparking the couple's first argument, but, whilst Hermione understood Ron's point of view, she knew that she had to be here.

Hermione hated that she had been here often enough in the past month to know that she could walk these halls blindfolded and still manage to make it to the courtrooms in the belly of the Ministry. The trials of the accused Death Eaters seemed to be going on forever – another reminder that the war wasn't truly over – and these were only the people they had been able to capture. Harry and Hermione stepped off the elevator on the bottom floor, handing over their wands to the Auror stationed at the front and cooperating with a light frisking before being granted access to the courtrooms. As they made their way down the hallway, the air grew colder, the lingering presence of the dementors still felt in these chambers. When Kingsley was appointed Minister, he, along with a team of Aurors and other highly-skilled witches and wizards, began a purge and cleanse of Azkaban prison, along with the Ministry courtrooms, effectively ridding the buildings of the monstrous creatures.

Suddenly, Hermione became nervous. This is the first trial that she was attending for a person who she knew personally, grew up with. She passed a door to her left where she knew he was being held. Her breath hitched in anticipation. Harry, too, had become a little stiffer in his movements. As they entered the courtroom, they saw the usual line of reporters sitting at the back, along with a smattering of others, like there always was at a trial of a Death Eater. They made their way to the viewing stands, to seats that really should have their names on them, they were both there at every trial. Hermione gripped Harry's hand tightly and he squeezed back, both feeling sick with anxiety.

The boy was brought in, bound with a magical cord around his wrists and dressed in the prescribed striped prison clothes, the shabbiest outfit she had ever seen him in. He didn't look up as he was lead to his seat in the centre of the circular room, eyes planted firmly on the floor in front of him.

The new Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Dorian Smyth, began the trial as usual. Hermione had sat through them all before. She had heard every rehearsed line and every charge imaginable. This one was different though. This one was Draco Malfoy.

Smyth continued through the trail, pausing at appropriate moments for responses from Malfoy that never came. To every charge that Draco had been sentenced, he pleaded guilty. He was guilty. From attempted assassination of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, to letting Death Eaters into the school, getting the Dark Mark, participating in raids, torturing muggles and muggleborns, and countless others, Draco felt the weight of his actions.

Hermione, although not exactly being chummy with the boy, found sympathy for him as she watched him admit to his crimes. Yes, he had been the first person to expose her to the inequality of the magical world, and reminded her of her "place" in it. Yes, he had called her names and threatened her friends. But Hermione had begun on a path to forgiveness and he was at the top of her list. His admission of guilt was the bravest thing that she had ever seen Draco Malfoy do in his life – he wasn't running away, he wasn't being the coward, or the impressionable little boy any more.

Harry gripped Hermione's hand tightly, drawing her from her reverie. He looked at her, pale as a ghost, nodding towards Smyth's words. Hermione knew this part. This was where they asked the accused for their final statement before the ruling.

"Are you absolutely sure there is nothing you have to say, Mr Malfoy?" Smyth repeated, slightly perplexed that this young boy was throwing the rest of his life away without a fight.

"No, sir. I have committed these crimes, I have to face the consequences." Draco replied solemnly, his head still bowed to his feet.

"If that's the case, we will cast our votes." Smyth turned to the panel on his right.

Hermione didn't know what exactly made her do it, but one second she was in her seat and the next she had risen and begun to speak. She hadn't done this before.

"If it is permitted, I would like to speak on behalf of the accused." Her clear voice echoed around the chambers. Only then did Draco look up. His eyes locked with Hermione's, questioning her silently. She smiled slightly with what she hoped was reassurance, which only seemed to confuse him more.

"It is highly unusual, but there is precedent. I will allow it, Miss Granger." Smyth agreed and motioned for her to step down from the viewing stands. She was given a dose of Veritaserum before she was allowed to speak.

Once she was closer to Draco, she could see him in more detail. He looked thinner than ever, even than he had in their sixth year. His face was gaunt, lanky hair was unkempt and dirty, and he held himself like a convicted man. Cuts and bruises were visible all over him. His eyes screamed defeat and remorse, and she felt the bubble of sympathy arise in her once more.

"Of all the people in this room to speak on behalf of Mr Malfoy, I probably would have been his last choice. It was no secret throughout our formative years of schooling, Mal- Draco and Harry were somewhat pitted against each other as rivals from the outset. It also came as no surprise that he and I weren't exactly on good terms either. It should therefore be noted how powerful this is, that I would give testimony on behalf of the man sitting behind me. It is clear to me that Draco never intended to become so deeply embedded in Voldemort's schemes. Throughout his younger, more impressionable years, Draco had been subjected to a somewhat brainwashing regarding muggles and muggleborn children due to his upbringing. This, along with his familial ties to the Dark Arts, forced him into the role as Voldemort's youngest recruit. Throughout our sixth year, Draco seemed tormented, and it was obvious that he could not get out of the task that he had been given, not for lack of trying. It seemed like throughout the latter years of our schooling, Draco had been acting under duress." Hermione paused and took a breath, "I would like to explain the moment where our paths crossed during the war. Harry, Ron and I had been found by some Snatchers and brought to Malfoy Manor, where Voldemort had practically taken up residence. Here, Draco and his family were present, but due to a well-placed Stinging Hex on Harry's face, the older witches and wizards couldn't be certain that we were the trio that they were after. After being deposited on their drawing room floor, Draco had been forced forwards by Bellatrix Lestrange, asking to identify Harry as he had spent the most time with us due to our schooling. Draco refused, playing it off as uncertainty. I knew at that moment he didn't want to be on their side. He knew who we were, he could have just as easily given us up to Voldemort, but he didn't, and this kept us safe and alive to continue the battle. Draco quite literally risked his life for us in that moment, and if that doesn't convince you to spare him a lifetime of Azkaban, there is nothing I can say that will."

A shocked silence filled the room as Hermione's impassioned speech ended. She wasn't sure whether to take this as good or bad. Her hands were shaking despite the fiery confidence she showed in her eyes. She was nervous.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. We will take your testimony into consideration." Smyth dismissed her.

Hermione returned to the visitor stands where Harry pulled her into a one-armed hug. He understood. He was forgiving too.

"In light of this evidence, we are going to take a short recess to discuss this trial, reconvening in fifteen minutes for the verdict." Smyth declared.

Most of the courtroom filed out then, with reporters writing furiously at the back of the room, chattering between them and pointing at her occasionally. Malfoy cast one glance back towards her in the stands before he was lead back to his holding room.

"Harry, he doesn't deserve a lifetime in Azkaban." Hermione stated sadly.

"He doesn't, and from your testimony, I don't think he will be." Harry agreed, "You never cease to amaze me, Hermione. You're absolutely brilliant, and you have the most forgiving heart."

"Just because I testified for him, doesn't mean I fully forgive him. I just think that, from what we've heard from other trials, combined with how he was during school with him, we can deduce logically that he doesn't believe in the pureblooded elitist bullshit that his father has obviously been feeding him since he was a child." Hermione defended.

Harry chuckled slightly, "Of course you'd be ever so logical in defending him. I can honestly see your point, but it's going to be a bit harder for me to get over our rivalry, despite how trivial it seems after everything we've been through."

"I understand that. All we can do is try to forgive if we want to move on." Hermione's face turned pained, "Ron isn't of the same mindset."

"I know, Mi. He'll come around eventually. You know how stubborn he can be, especially about holding a grudge." Harry sighed and motioned towards the reporters, "This is going to be front page news, you know. How are you going to be with Ron?"

"I have to assume that there will be another, bigger fight about it. He didn't want me coming here in the first place, let alone defending his arch nemesis." Hermione looked forlorn, but quickly composed herself, "I hope that he can come around."

Harry nodded in agreement as a hush fell over the room, with Department of Law Enforcement members returning to their seats. Smyth followed shortly, taking his place as Draco Malfoy was deposited in his seat.

"The court has come to a decision." Smyth started without pretences.

Malfoy looked up at the presiding judge as a thick silence hung in the room.

"You have been found guilty on all charges. However, due to testimony from Miss Hermione Granger, your sentencing has been reduced. It has come to the court's attention that many of the actions that you have been accused of were acted upon under extreme duress. This, along with the accounts from your actions in the war, has reduced your life sentence in Azkaban to a five-year magic ban effective immediately. You will be banished from the Wizarding World until the full five-year sentence has been served, surrendering your wand and other magical effects, with the option for review at eighteen months." Smyth concluded.

Hermione didn't know why, but she was crying. Silent tears were tracking their way down her face as a sense of relief washed over her. She hadn't felt this emotional about a trial since the first. The magical cords around Draco's wrists were released and he subconsciously rubbed at them as he searched for her in the stands through the throng of exiting viewers.

Hermione and Harry walked down to meet him in the centre of the room, uncomfortably awkward for a moment.

"Granger..." Draco started, before closing his mouth and frowning, "Thank you… but, why?"

Hermione looked up at him, "I meant every word that I said to that panel of law enforcement. I've observed so much more than you know, Malfoy, and you're not all bad. I can't speak for Harry, but I'm trying to forgive. It's the only way we'll get past this war."

"And you, Potter?" He looked towards Harry, "Are you… alright with me?"

"I mean, you're obviously not my favourite person in the world, but I agree with Hermione." Harry stuck his hand out for a handshake, "Think you can choose the right kind of friends this time around?"

Draco's face had a ghost of a smirk, grasping Harry's hand after only a moment, "I think you've chosen for me."