My first Harry Potter fic.

Clearing the Malfoy Name

Disclaimer: I do not own HP nor am I making a profit off of this fictional story. Don't sue me cuz you won't get anything.

Warning: This story contains slash, if you're not interested, don't read.

Couples: Harry/Ginny, Harry/Draco, Voldemort/Narcissa, Voldemort/Lucius, Lucius/Narcissa Hermione/Ron, Fred/Lee Jordan and maybe some others in the foreseeable future.

Here we go:

Draco closed his eyes. This couldn't be his reality. How could Potter have done this? How was it possible? The Dark Lord should have defeated him. The Dark Lord was sure to rise again in all of his horrendous glory. Where was the power of the Dark Arts? How could it be that a simple Expelliarmus charm could destroy the greatest wizard in the world? Draco could not fathom how the scene before him was accurate. In the midst of his parents' crushing embrace, Draco could feel his doubt heightening. How did they know that the Dark Lord was really dead? The cheers of delight and awe still reverberated around the Great Hall. The great hero, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived was nowhere to be seen. Not too long ago, Draco remembered hearing the odd blonde haired Ravenclaw girl shout about some fictional animal in order to gain everyone's attention. It was then that Draco assumed that Potter had escaped the praise of all those gathered and still gathering in the Great Hall. Draco ignored the stares of witches and wizards excitedly whispering and some out right speaking out against the Dark Lord and his followers. The Malfoy name was uttered more than once within Draco's range of hearing. It wouldn't be too long from now that the Aurors would quit their celebrating and take them away. Draco tensed at the thought of his family being separated because of their affiliation with the Dark Lord. Draco had only done what was necessary of him. He served his master faithfully. His father, Lucius and his mother, Narcissa, had both done what had been asked, expected of them. What would happen to them now that they were at the mercy of their enemies? Draco felt his mum's sharp nails dig into the flesh on his right arm. Draco severely hoped that she would continue to remain calm. The last thing the wizarding world needed to know about was his mum's ability to use wandless magic. Not that her powers were dangerous or even useful enough to vanquish the like of the Dark Lord, they were just inexplicably odd, like the blonde girl before. The only true difference between them was Narcissa's inability distinguish reality from fantasy. She had held it together this long, perhaps they would leave unscathed.

Oooooooooooooooo

In the semi-darkness of a hallway leading away from the Great Hall, a small boy appeared. At first, he appeared as a ball of light, but upon unfurling and standing up straight, pale blonde hair moved with an unfelt wind. The light around him faded as he pulled a small blazing object from his pocket. Joyfully, the boy watched as translucent wings spread on either side of the round object and began to flap. Slowly, the object began to lift itself on its own momentum. Before five minutes went by, it was zooming along in the air a few feet above the young boy's head as short, plump arms swung heavenwards to catch it. The boy had yet to speak as he glided after his favorite toy. The legs of the child carried him around the castle as he jumped over crumbled stone and the occasional corpse. He seemed not to see or smell death as it clung to the atmosphere around him. Through hidden passage ways and tumbling on his bottom down hidden stairways, the boy seemed no closer to catching his toy.

The site of a broken gargoyle halted the boy in his steps. Never before had he such a frightening looking creature. Darting behind a column, the boy playfully hid himself from its sight. Dodging behind pieces of blasted stone and the occasional bit of armor, the boy found himself at the feet of the statue. It didn't move. Raising his eyes, the boy found stairs and the glint of gold his eyes had been searching for. Bounding up the large steps, the boy grasped the step in front of him to keep himself balanced. Voices could be heard. The closer he got to the top, the more curious he became.

"Harry, listen to us, we need to figure out what to do. The war is over now, you can come stay with us mate."

"No, it wouldn't feel right. I'll stay at 12 Grimmauld Place. Everything will be fine, I think even Kreacher will come back with me," the voice sounded hallow, with a bare thread of hope.

"No, Harry, you're in shock. I can tell. I'm right, aren't I Headmaster?" This voice sounded commanding, in a caring sort of way.

The boy found himself hiding behind the great door, the only entrance into the lair beyond. It was brightly lit, a warmth contrasting with the cold, dead, drafty feeling of the castle beyond. Watching with bated breath, the small golden object flitted in front of the door, well above the young boy's head before floating in. Small clothed feet soon followed.

There were three people in the room, two boys and a girl. None of them looked as if they had any blood relation to the others. The room was filled with fascinating objects, but no one of them had the same appeal as he is flying toy did. Wandering nearer to the party of three, the boy saw that there were lots of funny faces on the walls and all of them were watching. Only one old face was moving and staring at the boys and the girl. He had white hair and blue eyes. His expression was a mix between sadness and relief. He also seemed to want something, his eyes roamed between the three anxious listeners. His voice rumbled on, in a tired sort of way.

"I agree with Miss Hermione and Mr. Weasley, Harry, now is not the time for you to be alone. You must grieve Harry and you must-"

The boy stopped as the sound of the loud, raspy old voice paused. He glanced up at the many faces on the wall now aimed at him. Opening and closing his hands at his sides, the boy turned slowly in a circle. All the faces indeed followed him, including the three people near the desk where a large stone bowl sat.

"Who would bring a child to a battle ground?" The girl with the long brown hair asked aloud.

The red headed boy only shook his head in reply. He seemed unable to answer. The other boy with the dark hair, rounded glasses and lightning bolt scar stared at him silently. Slowly the boy blinked, his eyes sparkling as a smile began to spread across his face. One word began to play through his mind: playmates. The feeling of curiosity burgeoning in his stomach spread as he reached for the golden object that had brought him there. It lay on the table next to a slim piece of wood.

Before anyone could react, the boy had grabbed the twig like object and pointed it at the golden ball that flew away upon his approach. Ringing laughter echoed through the room and halls following the boy's chase as he led the three wizards from their warm room of contemplation.

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Draco lifted the cool cloth to his mother's brow. She wouldn't last much longer. The Aurors had gathered and the remaining Death Eaters that had been captured whilst trying to flee were being documented. Draco was seated on the floor in the main entrance with his family. His father held his mother tightly with his arm wrapped around her shoulders. It wouldn't be long now before they were processed and sent to a place of holding.

Draco noticed Deputy Headmistress Professor McGonagall not too far away. Every few minutes her gaze swept over them. It was she that brought the cloth and a bowl of cold water after noticing his mother's feverish disposition. It would be long now. Draco wished someone would rescue them. They had neither wands nor support financial or otherwise. There would be mercy for a family of Death Eaters, although Draco himself had never taken the Dark Mark and neither had his mother. Then again, his family's known affiliation with the Dark Lord was sure to damn them anyway.

As the last of the captured Death Eaters were charged, read their rights and taken away through the entrance way, Draco and his family were the only followers of the Dark Lord left. Slowly, the crowd of excited wizards and witches dispersed themselves as they began helping to take the dead away from Hogwarts. He overheard one the Mediwizards talking about the Weasleys taking care of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks' bodies for removal and burial. Draco knew that Fred was dead and that the Weasleys were still mourning his loss not one hundred feet away from where his family sat sequestered from the celebration over the war's end.

Draco wondered faintly if they would be taken straight to Azkaban. He was an adult by wizarding standards, although he wasn't sure if was tough enough to handle the surreal despair that came with being hold up with dementors. The sound of a prance brought Draco out of his stupor. The Aurors were headed in their direction, but so were two Centaurs. Draco recognized the blonde limping centaur as Firenze, the annoying newly appointed Divination instructor and Bane, the centaur his mother had saved so many years ago. With all the hassle Bane gave Firenze over helping the Boy Who Lived, Draco wondered how Bane had gotten away with staying within the fold. The pondering was short lived as Firenze halted a few feet from them and Bane stopped just a few feet closer. Sitting back on his hunches, Draco wished he had a wand. He would have blasted their way out of the castle and back to the Manor in no time.

Draco lowered the cloth as his father guided him to kneel at his side. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Draco obediently followed his father's gesture of a short bow. Bane ignored them and focused on his mother, Narcissa.

"I see where your husband has led you, youngest daughter of Cygnus Black and Druella Rosier, sister to Bellatrix Lestrange and Andromeda Tonks, cousin of Sirius Black. This is the end. The Dark Lord has been vanquished. Where do you stand?" Draco stared at his mother from the corner of his right eye, she wasn't moving. Her eyes were larger than usual, her mouth slightly ajar. Draco knew that look. She was no longer with them anymore. Shifting his sight, Draco could see that the Aurors had gathered behind the centaurs, five of them plus Deputy Headmistress Professor McGonagall and the other heads of house. The Weasley clan or what remained of them including the hideous Bill Weasley and his beautiful wife, Fleur stood off to the side observing quietly. Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter's most devoted friend was nowhere to be seen.

Draco wasn't sure what to be more mortified about, the fact that the wizarding world was about to meet his mother uncontrolled by either the Dark Lord or his father or that the Weasleys could look down their noses at the Malfoys. Draco suppressed the urge to cringe as he felt his mother rise. Draco knew without looking that his mother had given into her natural impulse and her aptitude for wandless magic was guiding her actions. Draco could only hope that the outburst wouldn't last too long. He was unsure if St. Mungo's or Azkaban was in his mother's future.

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Ooo

Harry gasped for air as the little blonde haired boy continued to run away from him. "Stop! Stop I said!"

"This isn't working!" Ron shouted as he aimed his wand at the child only to have Hermione jump in his way.

"He's just a boy, Ronald! You can't hit him. You'll hurt him."

Ron turned looking aghast as he kept pace with Harry, Hermione jogging in front. "Him! He's got the wand! We don't even know who he's working for! And we've been chasing him for a while now, he 's not even tired"

"He just a kid, Ron. Weren't you watching about an hour ago when I took care of Voldemort for the final time?" Harry noticed that they were heading towards the Great Hall downstairs.

"We'll catch him. I don't understand where he came from," Harry huffed as he jumped over a suit of fallen armor. The debris that covered the stone floor was everywhere. Harry had already passed his limit. He was dead tired. He had only survived death a few hours before.

The sound of the small boy's laughter died as he slowed in front of the steps. Harry passed Hermione and swung his arm low, catching the boy around the waist. He was warm to the touch and looked oddly familiar up close. Harry noticed for the first time the color of the boy's eyes, a hue of gray somewhat identical to Malfoy's. Snatching the wand quickly from the boy's grasp, Harry kneeled and began turning the boy around to face him when darkness overcame him.

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It started with darkness, it always started with darkness. Draco couldn't see anything and he was partially thankful. The pulse of magic around him reminded him of his own heartbeat. The thuds continued rhythmically in tune with his own body's harmony. Draco felt his mind lull. His mum had kept it together for so long how could she give in now? Draco was dimly aware of voices shrieking in the darkness about the Dark Lord rising again. Panic had risen, but he knew that in a few moments the voices would subside. They always did.

It was the birth of the stars above him that let Draco know that Bane had indeed started this mess. His mind was always on the stars. Twinkling around him, Draco resisted the urge to grab one and make a wish. His mum had once told him that was how muggles knew magic existed, the shooting of stars. Like a flash of light, the stars disappeared and his mum was standing before him again. Bane had one arm wrapped around her shoulders, her long pale blonde hair messy from the battle hung limp at her back. She leaned against him as if she had no strength left to stand on her on.

Slowly, Draco felt himself settle back into his body. His awareness of his surroundings became sharper. More people had wandered in from the Great Hall. The Weasleys were just letting go of each other. Luna was kneeling not too far from where Draco was positioned on the floor. Lucius looked utterly helpless. The sound of laughter filled the Great Hall and Aurors with their wands brandished turned towards the stairs. Draco knew the laugh did not belong to the Dark Lord; it was far too gentle, young and innocent. Raising his eyes, Draco saw the wizarding world's great hero Harry Potter standing behind one of his mother's creations, illusions. Draco was never sure what to call them.

The little blonde haired boy turned from Harry and stumbled down the stairs. He seemed ignorant of the Aurors and everyone else gathered. A golden snitch flitted above him, guiding him. Draco closed his eyes, deeply embarrassed. Warmth enveloped him as short arms succeeded in pulling him into a fierce hug. Draco was released and he heard his father's disgruntled sigh. Draco knew that the apparition was demanding attention from Lucius in a way that Draco himself didn't remember doing at the same age.

"MOMMY!" Physically cringing, Draco covered his face. His cheeks were on fire. His fists curled.

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Harry wasn't sure whether or not to laugh or cry. The small boy he'd been chasing after with his friends had been a miniature Malfoy! Harry was sure that this was impossible, but the little boy bouncing from Draco to Lucius was real or at least he thought he was. As Harry finished descending the steps, the boy began to glow. The snitch Harry had noticed leading the boy on a wild chase was glowing as well. While the snitch disappeared, the boy did not. He stood beside Mrs. Malfoy who was nearly cradled, quite unnaturally by Bane, the Centaur.

The glow encompassed the small child, until he melted-that was the only way Harry could describe it-into a ball of light. Harry's eyes widened at the sight. Across the hall, Ginny met his gaze and wiggled her eyebrows. Smiling slightly, Harry nearly fell backwards as a copy of Ginny uncurled from the same ball of light. It had moved away from Mrs. Malfoy and stood before Harry. The feeling that swelled inside of Harry let him know that it wasn't a boggart that was causing some cruel form of mischief. This had to be the work of a spell, a powerful one at that. Harry felt no fear as the Ginny look-a-like reached for his hand and replaced the stolen wand proving that it had indeed been the thing that had stolen it in a childlike imitation of Draco. She didn't let go of his hand after she had replaced it. The glow around Ginny's hair made it into a crown. Harry had never seen her so radiant.

Harry tried to move away from her, but she followed his every step, with a curious smile, just like the miniature Malfoy had had. Grasping and raising his hand, she spun around as if on a ballroom floor instead of in the midst of a used battlefield inside a torn old building. Harry knew what the feeling inside of him was. It was love, the same emotion he'd been describing to Voldemort. Harry found himself laughing softly at her antics, he was still somewhat conscious of everyone's eyes on him. Raising her hand to his cheek, Ginny peered into his eyes, "I missed you." Even her voice was the same!

"Impossible!"

"Who's doing this? I demand to know," Harry heard Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice echo across the Great Hall. It sounded so distant. The longer Harry stared into Ginny's eyes, the less he wanted move to away and let go. Even when he heard other voices joining the chorus, his friends included, Harry tuned them out. He only wanted to reside with Ginny in this moment, forever.

Ginny sighed breaking eye contact with him, "Forever is a long time." She gave him a half smile before turning away.

"You read my mind," Harry mumbled as she stopped him from following her. Her hands were placed on his shoulders, "No, you can't follow me."

Enchanted, Harry stared dreamily at her. Harry was sorry to see her go as she melted back into the ball of light only to reincarnate as a young girl with the same reddish hair, only her eyes were a bright green. "Mum?" Harry mumbled to himself. All of his strength left him as he found his legs giving way beneath him. He collapsed onto the bottom steps and watched as the apparition mimicking Lily Potter sat beside him. They stared at each other, Lily in a fond manner and Harry tiredly holding back his tears. He hadn't seen her face since his walk into death's arms hours ago.

"Will you come back with me?" Harry inquired softly, as he turned to take her warm hands into his own. A part of him knew that she wasn't real, but he still wanted her to stay with him. Harry looked up and watched Mrs. Malfoy squat in front of him, her robes were torn and muddied in some places. She had a weary glint in her eyes. Harry noticed that she differed severely from the woman he had met at his first Quidditch match. She was younger without the snobby, stuck up expression on her countenance.

Harry was still sure that her nails were as sharp as ever, especially after feeling them hours before. Glancing between, Draco's mother and his own Harry realized that had never properly thanked her. The Aurors were closing in, but so was Bane. He had followed Mrs. Malfoy to the base of the staircase, an eerie presences emanated from him. Bane appeared battle worn, but his body language suggested that he was excited about something.

Harry reached for Mrs. Malfoy's hand, "Thanks, for what you did in the woods. If it weren't for you, who'd know where we'd be."

"What are you talking about Harry?" Ron's loud voice echoed. He and Hermione had finally traversed the stairs, Ginny was slowly making her way over, although, her mum was following close behind.

Running his fingers through his hair, Harry wondered how thick Ron really was. Hadn't he been listening to his explanation of the night and dawn's events? Mrs. Malfoy continued to hold his gaze as she reached for Lily, the apparition, it shifted again. The small boy unfurled again, born of the light. Instead of the snitch appearing this time, a small glowing red fire engine accompanied him. Jumping up from his seat, the young boy followed the charmed truck as it shrieked and began to roll toward the Malfoy men who had been surrounded by Aurors.

Realizing his error, Harry stood up and shouted without meaning to, "Don't! They've just as much right to celebrate as we do."

"Harry!"

"'Arry!"

"What's he talking about, their bloody Death Eaters!"

"They deserve Azkaban, they do!"

"My wife's dead because of them!"

Harry felt his world shift as dozens of voices shouted against his exclamation. Many grieving wizards and witches were clouded by their pain and Harry understood that they wanted to release their anger at someone. The Malfoys were the most perfect target. Even Fleur used some choice words against them in the mayhem.

"SETTLE DOWN!" Kingsley's voice boomed, amplified by his wand around the entrance way and throughout the Great Hall. Harry sighed thankful for the voice of reason. Harry watched as Professor McGonagall made her way over to where Draco was being forced to stand as he was being charged. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but he could tell by her demeanor that she was not going to let them take Draco without a fight. Harry was sure that Dumbledore had a lot to do with the Deputy Headmistress' change of spirit against the young man who had once plotted the death of the greatest wizard Great Britain had ever seen.

Turning towards his friends, Harry gestured wildly to the scene before him. Mrs. Malfoy had risen and was closely tended to by Bane, who seemed to have moved from his original position as spectator. Firenze was limping towards the safety of an alcove off the main hall. Harry halfheartedly wondered if Firenze would be allowed back into the fold after his darning antics during the great battle. Lucius was surrounded by three Aurors, Kingsley was supervising the discourse between the wizards. Harry noticed how Lucius' gaze remained fixed on his wife as she stumbled under Bane's lead as he moved slowly, but stealthily towards Firenze.

Harry was just about to follow them amidst the chaos, but was stopped by a familiar voice, "Harry, dear, let's get you home."

"What?" Harry exclaimed unsure if Mrs. Weasley, like her son was dwelling in the same universe as everyone else. Didn't they notice the unfairness of it all? Instead of waiting, Harry moved to walk around Hermione who was in his way and nearly fell. A small shriek from behind him and Harry knew without looking that the thing he had stepped on belonged to the apparition of the miniature Malfoy. The airy voice that cried 'Mine' in such a demanding tone reminded Harry briefly of another time when his life was simple and confined to the teasing of his cousin and peers.

"Harry, watch it. You could've fallen, if not for that thing." Ginny murmured as she grasped his right arm. Harry stared at her out of the corner of his eye, she was captivated by the small boy as he leaned over his truck, inspecting it for damage.

"You know," she continued lowering herself to the younger Malfoy's level, "he's kind of cute."

Harry followed her unthinkingly, he really was tired. The flaming red hair reminded Harry of his mother, "I don't think you know who you're talking about. You see, that's-"

"I know," Ginny grabbed his gesturing wand hand. The raucous had died down and Harry could distinctly hear Percy Weasley's voice as he addressed Kingsley as the new acting Minister for Magic. At that announcement, the hall seemed to become eerily quiet. It was as if no one wanted to miss hearing the ex-Auror's first command.

"In that case, I'll have the Malfoys moved to my new office, including Mrs. Malfoy." Kingsley paused and added as an afterthought, "Although she seems a little scattered at the moment. No worries Headmistress, I'd like you to accompany young Malfoy here. I'm sure the rest of the staff can handle the situation here."

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Harry kept his gaze locked on the small back of the blond boy. Harry could hear the pops of Aurors presumably leaving with the Malfoy men in tow. Another decree from the Minster and wizards and witches were being ordered to prepare for the departure of their loved ones from the Great Hall as soon as each investigating team was done. It was not long before Harry was sure that only highly classified Aurors, a few scattered Mediwizards and what was left of Harry's inner circle, including the Weasleys were left. All the while, Harry continued to focus on the miniature Malfoy as he played in a detached realm of calm and excitement with his enchanted muggle toy. Ginny didn't let go of him. Hermione and Ron were seated on the stairs nearby. Ron leaned heavily against Hermione's shoulder as he drifted into a state between sleep and consciousness. Mrs. Weasley had rejoined her husband and was talking lowly and quickly to him.

"Narcissa is not going with your wizards, temporary Minster for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt." Harry heard Bane's voice disrupt the calm that drifted over everyone still present. His voice was harsh and had a hint of an overprotective quality to it. Harry didn't want to turn away from the apparition, there was something tranquil in the way the boy seemed so detached from the harsh reality of death and destruction that Harry had witnessed over the past few months. Watching him was an escape that Harry hadn't indulged in in quite some time.

The conversation between Bane and Kingsley continued, "She's a witch, the wife of Death Eater and a possible accomplice to what has happened today and last night. She's not a centaur." Kingsley paused as if grasping for the right words to convince the suspicious centaur that relinquishing his protection of the witch would do more good than harm. "She needs help, the Mediwizards at St. Mungo's will see to it that-"

Firenze interrupted the minister with a quiet, yet shocking declaration, "Dumbledore saw no need for St. Mungo's twenty-four years ago. There is no need to send her there now. Dumbledore was not wise enough to read the stars, but he was clever enough to leave such a rare wild wielder of wandless magic to the fate of-"

It was Percy's turn to interrupted Firenze before he could drone on further, "Is she registered? There should some documentation of this allegation. There's no way she would be allowed to go unsupervised. I'm sure even Dumbledore knew that. If it weren't for the registration compliance act of-"

"Perce," George's voice interceded, "shut up." Harry turned at the sound. He hadn't seen George since he was kneeling at the corpse of his deceased brother. Feeling Ginny's hand tighten on his arm, Harry stared sorrowfully at George, grief and guilt mounting. George's eyes swept over him and landed on the blond child. Harry cringed as the apparition began to take shape and he knew before Fred emerged that Mrs. Malfoy's uncontrolled magic was reacting to the heightened emotions of those present. Harry was sure that his mind's concentration on Fred's frozen face helped to reincarnate him.

Harry couldn't stop the tears from falling down his cheeks as Fred stood before him. Wearing the same outfit he had died in. Not even Percy raised his voice in astonishment. Ginny shrieked and he felt her turn away in a sudden rush of emotion. Ron was sitting up, pin straight as Fred turned to greet him. The voice, the mannerisms, even the cocky stride in his gait was the same. Instead of acting like a resurrected spirit and offering an apologetic, watery smile, Fred walked away from them, past his mother and father and brothers into the Great Hall. Harry noted the determined look on his face.

"He's not back to return to his body is he?" Ron asked quietly in an astonished tone of voice.

"Of course not!" Hermione answered, "Unfortunately, once a spirit is gone it can't come back. Fred's not coming back. I don't know what that thing was, but it definitely was not Fred."

George seemed not to care as he followed the illusion of his brother in a trance like state into the Great Hall. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley nearly tripped over themselves following him. Charlie, Bill and Fleur turned after them. Percy hesitated before following, he kept glancing backwards as if someone was going to call him back or worse yet, he behaved as if he had no right to go after them.

Hermione and Ron looked too stunned to move. Harry gently shook Ginny's shoulders. She was turned in an awkward position, her gaze locked onto where her family disappeared inside the Great Hall.

"Do you want to go after them?" Harry inquired.

Ginny shook her head and leaned against Harry for support. Harry knew how she felt. His own aching pain was catching up to him. He as surely riding on fumes that were running out as he sat there.

Harry jumped when Kingsley's voice began their ministrations again, attempting to release Mrs. Malfoy from Bane.

"I am only following procedure. If Mrs. Malfoy won't be taken to St. Mungo's then she needs to be taken to my office. I don't believe my fellow colleagues will be as generous with their patience for her son and husband as I am willing to be. Professor McGonagall can only stall them for so long."

Something in the Minister's words must have registered with the Centaurs because Bane had only to life his left hand a murmur a spell before releasing Mrs. Malfoy to Kingsley's custody. Harry didn't know what he said or the effects of it, but Mrs. Malfoy appeared no different. Her gaze was still distant and her attitude was still oddly detached like the apparition of her son was.

"I would like to request an audience later, when you time is less marred by the results of the battle." Bane replied to the minister's words of thanks over his cooperation.

Kingsley nodded in agreement, "I'd like to know what was going on between Professor Dumbledore, Mrs. Malfoy and the Centaurs. And I'll be looking into this matter wandless magic."

Bane nodded curtly, he still appeared reluctant to let Mrs. Malfoy go, a defiant glare lingered in his eyes. "Her son," Bane warned as he helped Firenze towards the latter's rooms deeper into the interior of the castle, "has the same inheritance. He has fallen victim to the same mental defect as his second cousin Sirius Black and his aunt Bellatrix Lestrange. It will not be too long before he begins to show the same signs, the stars have foretold this."

Firenze nodded silently in agreement as the two centaurs made their way step by step away from the Great Hall. Kingsley was holding Narcissa's arm as the woman's eyes darted around the ceiling of the entrance hall. The doors had been shut long ago. The beams of sunlight streaming in through the broken and shattered windows appeared surreal in the contrasting darkness of the castle about them. Harry's mind was too tired to receive any more information. Sleep beckoned him as he succumbed in Ginny's arms. Holding onto one another, Harry and Ginny leaned against the first few stairs as unconsciousness claimed them.

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Draco closed his eyes tiredly as he tried to find a comfortable position to sleep in. The chairs in the minister's office were uncomfortable and his hands were still magically bound. Draco wasn't alone in his desire to sleep. His father was fighting it as he continuously nodded off every now and then only to jerk himself awake. Professor McGonagall watched him with sharp eyes. Draco began to wonder if the woman needed sleep or if she feed off the energy of others.

The office was plush and empty save the ornaments of the late minister. Draco knew that the man was dead. He was privately thankful; Shacklebolt seemed more generous in his approach than the distrustful Aurors who stood behind him. Draco had no doubt that if left alone with them he would lose his sanity through torture before being sentenced to Azkaban. With any luck, he might've gotten sentenced the Kiss, resulting a life without the mental capacity to suffer the presence of the dementors.

Draco was unsure of what the future held for him. He knew that his mother would be coming soon. There was no way that the Centaurs with their curious fascination with defective wizards would be left in charge of his ailing mother. Closing his eyes, Draco made a mental list of all the things he wanted out of life now. He wanted to go back to school to finish off his last year and begin a new life somewhere that wasn't England. The farther away he got from this place with its bad memories and spoiled view of purebloods, the better. Distantly, Draco hoped that the expulsion of magic his mother had released would disappear soon. The apparitions were just one of the emissions that his mother's uncontrollable magic produced. Depending on the mood of the wizards around it, it could last for days if not weeks. The physical presence of the apparitions was nice, Draco had to admit. Seeing himself in such a characteristic state of vulnerability made him smile a little.

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What do you think? My first HP Fic. R&R.