It's hard to stand here in the shadows and know that you can't show how you feel. You are lost and he is lost to you. You are nothing without him and he is everything without you. So you slink away from the smiling fan club that is fawning over his scar, over his success, over the Boy-Who-Lived, not over him. He blushes as witches call out their undying love and you wish you could make him blush like that. You chose your mother over your unrequited love. You wished your father dead but would willingly die for her. So you walked to her and chose her side. Just for her. Your heart though, it always belonged to the light sideāhis side. You could spin a story of the ruse you pulled so your mother could save him. She told you what happened in the forest. You could free yourself of any punishment; you could, but you don't. You can't lie to him, so you don't lie to his side.
Lost in your thoughts you don't see the aurors walk up to you and before you know it you are in a holding cell, waiting for your trial. Your mother has already been tried. They send you a letter with her sentence. She only has two years in a now-dementor-free Azkaban. The reason for her relaxed punishment: Harry Potter testified on her behalf. Harry Potter said she saved his life, so he saved her. And then the hope you haven't dared to think on is foremost in your mind. He saved her, he could save you. You try not to hope, because if he isn't at the trial you may crumble under the rejection and despair.
You find yourself walking towards the Wizengamot and a grotesquely ornate chair is waiting for you. They lock your arms down and you sneer at them. Not even the threat of Azkaban can keep you from showing your disdain. They call out for any witnesses for the accused to come forward and you look around despondently. Severus would help but he was dead; you are alone.
You hear a collective gasp as the doors bang open. You turn your head and your eyes catch first the messy, black, hair, then the lightning bolt scar, the black glasses framing determined, emerald, eyes and finally the grim smile of the savior. He states his name and you snort, everyone knows his name already.
You show them your mark; you admit your crimes. He looks at you and smiles before praising your few good acts and spinning you into a pitiable boy trying to keep himself and his mother safe. You barely realize you have been released. You just walk towards your savior and put your arms around him; you are crying. He holds you and walks you out of the trial. The familiar feeling of side-along apparition takes you to a horribly decorated parlor. You don't even bother to look around when he pulls you to a sofa, you just sit down. You are crying and he is holding you, you look into his emerald eyes and realize that he is crying too.
You watch in silent, fraudulent slumber as he accio's a blanket and drapes it over you both. You hear him whisper the name of someone called Kreacher and a house elf appears. The whispered conversation between the two evades you so you fake waking up. He turns and smiles at you before asking how you feel. Your cheeks heat up as you think about your breakdown and you look to the floor sneering. His laughter shocks you into looking up and he is talking about how keeping up appearances isn't important around him.
You just sit there and watch Kreacher set two steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the table. You take one at his insistence and take a calming sip before asking why he witnessed at the trials. He looks at you oddly and you remind him that he hates you. I only hate Malfoy, he responds. He tells you that Narcissa and Draco are just fine with him. He awkwardly mentions that he let the dementors have Lucius and you smile. You tell him that the man was no longer your father and you are glad he's gone.
You thank him for protecting your mother as much as possible and ask again why helped you. He looks into your eyes and tells you why. He says that he loves you and then his lips are on yours. You know that there is so much for you to apologize for but you let yourself relax into him. You let yourself kiss him with the love that you have built up the last seven years. You smile on his lips because he saved you.
