Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are merely borrowed
AN: This is different from my other work, but has been a story rattling around in my brain for a while. This takes place after the last battle, and deals with the aftermath of the fall of Voldemort. In this story, the characters are of age and are trying to figure out life as young adults. Due to the ages of the people and the subject matter, it is a little darker. Please let me know what you think. Also, when I am writing a story I usually update it every day, and I'm intending to do that with this story too.
Harry approached the Ministry of Magic with trepidation. He was still deciding whether or not he should be here, and several times he had decided to turn back. But he reluctantly turned back towards the Ministry. As Hermione would call it, his "helping people" thing was too strong to ignore. And the guilt he felt about the letter he had received from Narcissa still burned. Especially the part where she had written, "You owe me a life, I lied to the Dark Lord to spare yours. It is not enough of a good act to save my own life, but I am hoping that your sense of honor will pay me back with the life of my son."
Harry wasn't even sure it was possible. He knew that if anybody could save Draco it would be him, perhaps cashing in on his status as a war hero. He had read about the war trials as they happened, and had read the seemingly endless list of the accused, the convicted, and the executed. Because the Dementors were no longer considered reliable guards for Azkaban after their defection and release of dark wizards just prior to the war, prison looked much different for the accused. They were held in holding cells with special wards to prevent magic, and if they were sentenced to prison and not execution they still went to Azkaban. It had been repaired, and was mostly run by squibs. Wards and a magical warden kept the prisoners in line, but this also made the judicial trials much more bent towards execution for those dark wizards they felt dangerous.
Harry had received the letter from Narcissa the day before, and had seen that the Malfoy families were slated for trial on the next day. Hermione and Ron had stayed up with him all night trying to find out a way to save Draco. Ron had been less than enthusiastic, but even he had finally given in that Draco shouldn't be killed for what his parents did. And then, in the wee hours of the morning, Hermione had hit upon an ancient wizarding tradition that just might work. But of course, it would only work for Harry. And even then the chances were slim, they were going to invoke a tradition that hadn't been used in 100 years. Most people on the wizengamot probably had never even heard of it.
Harry walked in, trying to ignore the whispers and pointing that always seemed to follow him around. He wished he had had at least Hermione with him, but they had decided it would look better if it was just him. He straightened his suit and tie, and walked purposefully towards the trial.
Harry slipped in the back of the trial in time to hear the verdict for Lucius and Narcissa; guilty and sentenced to death. They were allowed to give testimony for their son's trial, so their execution was scheduled for the end of the day after Draco's trial. Harry had seen many trials on television, and they always seemed to take weeks or years, especially murder trials. The war trials, however, were short and perfunctory and rarely lasted more than a few hours. And instead of being overseen by the entire Wizengamot, it was presided over by a special military tribunal.
"What is the evidence against the accused?" the judge asked.
The prosecuting attorney, or whatever the magical equivalent was, listed off Draco's crimes in a bored voice. He had participated in torture and terrorism, in casting unforgivables and in plotting to kill Dumbledore. Harry wasn't surprised by any of the charges. But he was surprised by Draco.
Draco stood in the witness box by himself, his skin almost as pale as his hair. He looked rumpled and skinny, with the casual elegance that he normally exuded completely gone. Instead he was bedraggled and beaten, and his eyes looked like smudges as he looked at the judge, awaiting his sentence. Harry realized what was so disturbing - the young man looked hopeless. He looked as if there was nothing good left for him, and he was only waiting for his execution.
The prosecution took little time, the evidence was massive and irrefutable. His interrogation using Veritas Serum the week before had sealed his fate, he had admitted to everything from Dumbledore to taking the Dark Mark. The prosecution rested.
The defense was perfunctory at best, the lawyer charged with defending death eaters had become discouraged as client after client had been executed. She barely bothered with Draco, the evidence was overwhelming and very damning. She would use what little energy and leverage she may have to try and win a case that was actually winnable. Clearly, this one was not; so she said some words about Draco's young age and this prosecution being a "witchhunt" and rested her case.
The judge then asked if anybody in the court wanted to speak for the accused. Nobody really ever did, being afraid to be labeled a death eater themselves, so the judge announced it in a bored voice without a glance at the courtroom. But then she heard the startled gasps and whispers spread throughout her courtroom, and she looked up in surprise. Harry Potter was standing in her court, patiently awaiting recognition.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter," the judge said. "The prosecution has already rested."
"I would like to speak for the accused," Harry told her, clearing his throat.
"Please, come up," she invited, in shock. Why would the savior of the wizarding community involve himself with a death eater?
Harry settled himself in the witness chair, and was uncomfortably reminded when he sat in that chair as the accused himself. He looked at the faces of the wizengamot tribunal, and cleared his throat again. "I know that Draco Malfoy's crimes are many," he told the group. "And I know under the new standards and codes that he is deserving of death. But I am asking for mercy for him, and to invoke the ancient tradition of Familiari."
"What is that?" the judge asked, confused.
"It means 'family authority,'" Harry explained. "It is an ancient right of a young wizard's family if he or she should run afoul of the law. It has been a traditional method for use if the wizard is between the ages of 17 and 21, and if there is belief that he or she is able to be rehabilitated."
"How does it work?" the judge asked.
"He will be put under the authority of a relative," Harry explained. "He would have his wand and his rights as an adult revoked. For all intents and purposes he would legally be like a pre-Hogwarts child. The relative would use his authority to then try and rehabilitate the young adult. The boundaries are very clear, and punishments for going beyond those boundaries are clear and prescribed."
"What relative are you proposing?" the judge asked.
"Me," Harry answered, sending the room twittering. "I am a relative of Draco's both distantly through the Potter line and more directly through the Black line, which I am the only heir."
"Do you think yourself up for this task?" one of the wizards on the tribunal asked.
"I do," Harry answered. "We have all seen so much destruction from this war. I'm sure all of you are sick to death of doing the necessary task of ridding death eaters from our community. I know that I am, and all I do is read the list in the paper every day." Harry took a deep breath, and then looked at the wizengamot directly. "I just want to have the chance to help an old classmate of mine. If I had been born into his circumstances instead of mine I would be in his same boat."
"But you saved the wizarding world!" one of the wizards protested.
"And so did Narcissa Malfoy," Harry told them. "She lied to Voldemort and told him that I was dead when I wasn't. But she is going to be executed tonight."
"We need a recess to discuss this," the judge said. "The Wizengamot tribunal will confer."
Harry took his seat in the courtroom again and watched as they filed out. He watched Draco carefully, seeing what his reaction was to what he had said. Draco stood in the box, unaffected, and allowed the guard to take him by his cuffed hands and lead him out. Just as he left the room, though, his eyes rose for a brief moment and locked on Harry's eyes. Harry couldn't tell what emotion was in those eyes, but he felt stricken by those eyes. He suddenly found himself hoping that their plan would actually work, not just be the attempt to satisfy his honor debt with Narcissa.
Within an hour the tribunal reconvened. Harry knew they had other cases on their docket today, they wanted to clear it quickly. Afraid that meant that they would turn him down, Harry bit his lip in nervousness. He tried to read the faces of the wizards as they filed back into the seats, and he found them inscrutable.
Harry saw Draco being led back in, still looking beaten but having the slightest bit of hope. He looked at his parents, and his mother nodded at him. He looked down. The once-proud Slytherin did indeed look haggard and gaunt, hunted and beaten. Harry thought about the first time he'd seen Draco at school, when he had very rudely invited him to be his friend. That had been so long ago, they had just been children. And now look at where they were.
The judge glanced at her fellow wizengamot, and then looked at Draco. "Draco Malfoy, please stand," she directed. He obeyed, and she continued. "Today we have before us a proposal to invoke the ancient rite of Familiari. With this proposal, you will be under the guardianship of Mr. Harry Potter for a period of no less than 7 years. You will be deprived of your wand for at least the first year of that, and you will be supervised and disciplined by Mr. Potter the entire seven years. If he grows tired of this supervision, you will be returned for your original sentence."
"What does the supervision look like, madame judge?" his lawyer asked, curious. This was definitely the most interesting thing that had happened in court for a while.
"The rules for this type of Familiari were set centuries ago," the judge explained. "So it may seem somewhat old-fashioned for modern tastes. It's possible to modify the rules somewhat after the first year, but for the first year the Wizengamot has ruled that it must follow the rules as set out. This includes a strict code of behavior for the miscreant, rehabilitory activities, and prescribed punishments. Many of the prescribed punishments involve corporal punishments."
If possible, Draco became even paler at that suggestion. Harry was afraid that he might faint, but he stayed standing. He looked at his mother, who gave him a slight nod, and then he looked away.
"Do you have any questions, Mr. Malfoy?" the judge asked.
"Can Mr. Potter abuse me?" he asked quietly.
"He will be allowed to discipline you as he sees fit," the judge answered. "He can choose to be quite severe. But if you require medical attention we will review the case."
"After seven years, will I be free?" he asked again in that same soft voice.
"You will likely require some sort of supervision after that," the judge told him. "But if you have been deemed rehabilitated then you will no longer be required to live with Mr. Potter. But make no mistake, Mr. Malfoy, most of us assume this will fail. We are only allowing this ancient rite as a nod to Mr. Potter's war hero status. In order to do this, you have to agree to cooperate with your rehabilitation, and submit to Mr. Potter's authority. You will find yourself in the position of a ten year old wizard with a stern guardian. Are you prepared to do this?"
Malfoy, looking down, replied, "Yes, I will."
The judge, looking satisfied, looked at Harry. "Mr. Potter, do you solemnly swear by your wizard's oath that you will do your duty of rehabilitating Draco Malfoy to the best of your ability? To follow the guidelines without shirking, and to not try and make this easier on Draco Malfoy than it is supposed to be?"
"I swear," Harry answered.
"Do you swear to care for Draco Malfoy as if he was your own son, providing for him physically as well as guiding him emotionally and developmentally?"
"I swear," Harry agreed.
"Then you may take him home," the judge rapped. "We are going to leave on his prisoner's bracelet, which will act for the protection of others as well as a monitoring device. The ministry will have access to everything Draco Malfoy says, does, hears, and sees. There will of course be strict confidentiality guards for things such as where you live, Mr. Potter, as we understand your home is unmappable."
"Thank you, madame," Harry nodded his head.
"The bracelet will also alarm if Draco is either not in your home or within 100 feet of you, Harry," the judge told him. "If it should alarm, Mr. Potter, you need to touch it within five minutes, or the bracelet will disable Draco."
"Disable him?"
"The bracelet will render him unconscious," the judge told him. "It will also happen if he's violent, touches a wand, or is otherwise deemed dangerous. Do you understand, Mr. Potter?"
"I do," he answered quietly.
"We will review this decision in one month from today," the judge announced. "We will determine if the prisoner is responding to the Familiari rite or if we need to take a more traditional route."
"I understand," Harry answered.
"Unlock the prisoner," she directed. "He is now in Mr. Potter's custody."