AN:

Story title: A Second Chance

School: Durmstrang

Year: Six

Theme: Veritaserum

Prompts: 7. Begging (main prompt) & 10. Drizzling

Word Count: 2954

"Look at this!" Ron scoffed as him and Harry stepped into their shared, cramped office at the Ministry of Magic. He stepped over to his desk and began rifling through the mountain of paperwork that had been left for him. "There must be over a hundred forms here! I worked like a dog yesterday to finish filling out everything and they've gone and dumped even more on me!"

"I've got just as much," Harry sighed, settling down at his own desk, which was covered with pieces of parchment as well. "More, I reckon, since I didn't get through everything from yesterday. I'll have to stay late tonight to get it all done."

"Why didn't you finish your paperwork last night?" Ron asked, hanging up his cloak.

"Ginny went up to the Room of Requirements last night," Harry explained. "She got the room to give itself a fireplace that was set up to our Floo network at the flat."

"So you skived off an hour early from work to snog my sister?" Ron gagged.

"You can't exactly snog through the Floo," Harry pointed out. "We just talked and we, er, sort of lost track of time."

"You're sickening," Ron said, shaking his head in disgust. He turned his attention back to his desk. "You know, we've been in the Auror department for two months now. You'd think we could do something more exciting than paperwork by now."

"I think I'm alright to be a bit bored by paperwork," Harry said. "After the year we had…"

"Fair point, mate," Ron smiled.

"Potter, Weasley, good, you're here," one of the senior Aurors, a towering, dark-haired wizard by the name of Rowlands, stated as he walked into the office. Tiny droplets of water covered his hair and robes.

"Did it start raining?" Ron frowned. "We took the outside entrance here, and it was sunny not even ten minutes ago."

"Hmm? Oh no, we've got rain in several of the interview rooms," Rowlands explained, quickly waving his wand over himself, the water disappearing at once. "There was an incident in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. We've got a few wizards going around to fix the problem; should be cleared up by the afternoon. Now then, it's your lucky day. We've overbooked sentencing interviews this morning. You each will need to question some of the Death Eaters that we've brought in."

Ron and Harry exchanged looks. This would be their first task that didn't involve them hunched over a desk since they started at the Ministry.

"I trust you can handle this responsibility?" Rowlands asked in a stern tone that almost rivaled Professor McGonagall's.

"Yes, sir," Harry said at once.

"Very good," Rowlands nodded, reaching into his robe pockets and pulling out two vials. He handed one to Ron and Harry.

"Er, what is this, sir?" Ron asked.

"Veritaserum," Rowlands replied. "You'll need to have the prisoners drink it before you begin questioning them."

Rowlands reached back into his pocket and pulled out two rolls of parchment. "Look over the questions and stick to them as much as you can. Now then, Weasley, you'll be questioning Mr. Shunpike-"

"The Knight Bus bloke?" Ron said.

"Yes," Rowlands nodded. "It looks like his story of being under the Imperius Curse is checking out, but we can't free him until we're certain. He's up in holding room four. Now Potter, you'll be questioning Mr. Malfoy-"

"Lucius Malfoy?" Harry frowned. "I-I'm sorry sir, but I thought he was already sentenced last week?"

"Yes, Lucius was," Rowlands said. "You'll be talking to his son, Draco."

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered, his eyes widening.

"Is that a problem?" Rowlands asked, crossing his arms against his chest.

"No, sir," Harry said quickly.

"Mr. Malfoy is holding room nine," Rowlands told him. "Just a warning, though, that's one of the rooms with rain. Once you finish your interviews, you'll report to Kingsley with your summaries. Clear?"

Ron and Harry both nodded.

"Very well, get to it then," Rowlands said, turning on his heel and stepping out of the office.
"You're interviewing Malfoy?" Ron said to Harry. "Blimey, you think they've been holding him in Azkaban all this time?"

"Don't know," Harry said, feeling as though he had just been hit with a Stunning Spell.

"What are you going to do?" Ron asked.
"I've got to question him, don't I?" Harry said.

"Can't decide whether that would feel strange or satisfying," Ron said, shaking his head.

Harry didn't respond as he carefully tucked the Veritaserum into his pocket.

"I'll see you back here in a bit then, mate," Ron said. "Good luck in there."

"You too," Harry said heavily as Ron left.

Harry never imagined his first hands-on Auror task would be something like this. He had honestly hoped that when he pulled Draco from the Fiendfyre during the war, it would be the last time he would have to see him.

Harry headed down the hall to the lifts, looking over the questions he was supposed to ask during the interview. When he arrived on the proper floor, Harry took a deep breath as he approached the holding room and stepped inside.

Just as Rowlands had warned, it was raining inside. Luckily, the rain seemed to have slowed to a soft drizzle. But the figure sitting at the table with his hands bound to the arms of his chair was soaked as if he had been waiting in the room for hours. His head was down against the table, but even without seeing his face, Harry could tell that Draco had seen rough days since the war ended. His white-blond hair was long and unkempt, he looked so thin that he must not have had a proper meal in weeks, and his robes were in such a state that they would've made Professor Lupin's look like elegant dress robes.

Harry cleared his throat, getting Draco's attention. Draco's head snapped up at once. Harry didn't know what he was expecting Draco's reaction to his presence to be, but he hadn't expected Draco to simply stare blankly at him. For almost a full minute, the two former school mates stared right at the other until finally, Harry broke the silence.

"I'm here to question you," he said, stepping over to the table and sitting down across from Draco.

"Course," Draco said, his voice cracking. "They went and made you an Auror, didn't they?"

Harry didn't reply.

"Bet you jumped at this, didn't you?" Draco continued softly. "Chance to put me away for good?"

"I was assigned to you," Harry replied. "I didn't ask for this."

Draco simply looked back down at the table.

"Drink this," Harry said, pulling out the vial of Veritaserum. He pointed his wand at the binds on Draco's hands, making them disappear.

"What is that?" Draco frowned.

"Veritaserum," Harry told him. "It makes you-"

"I know what it does," Draco cut him off. He bit the corner of his lip for a second before holding out his hand for the vial. Harry noticed, as he handed it off to him, that his arm was shaking.

"I need you to state your full name for the record," Harry said once he saw Draco swallow the Veritaserum.

Draco didn't look up. "Draco Lucius Malfoy," he said in a voice hardly louder than a whisper.

"Right then," Harry said, feeling his own nerves begin to sneak up on him as he tried to remember exactly what he was supposed to say. "The charges against you today are the following: knowingly conspiring with Lord Voldemort to commit crimes against muggles and muggle-borns, producing two of the three Unforgivable Curses on other humans, participating in the murder of Charity Burbage, and participating in the murder of Albus Dumbledore. Do you accept these charges?"

"I-No, I-I didn't participate in any murders!" Draco said at once.

"Witnesses have put you at the scene when Professor Burbage was killed," Harry said, looking down at the fact sheet in front of him.

"I-Yes, alright, I was there," Draco admitted. "But I didn't kill her! That was only him."

"Lord Voldemort?"

Draco gave a violent shudder. "Yes," he nodded.

"But you didn't try to stop him?" Harry said. "According to Ministry laws, a passive bystander-"

"How could I stop him?" Draco exclaimed, his eyes widening. "No one could ever stand up to him!"

"Plenty of people stood up to him," Harry said coolly, thinking of all the people who died because they refused to back down to Lord Voldemort. Lupin and Tonks, Fred, his own parents.

"And look what happened to all of them," Draco said, almost as if he was reading Harry's thoughts. "They were killed! I didn't want to die, okay? I could have refused, but I'd have been dead in two seconds! So I'm not noble? So I'm not a martyr? So I'm not…I'm not brave. I-I'm a coward, alright!"

He slammed his fist hard on the table and buried his face in his hands, taking deep breaths.

Harry didn't say anything for several moments as he watched Draco. It seemed surreal to think that this was the same person who once strutted about the halls of Hogwarts with such an air of entitlement and confidence.

"You did conspire with Lord Voldemort," Harry finally spoke as Draco looked back up. "You are a Death Eater; that much we have proof of."

"Yes," Draco muttered in confirmation.

"But it wasn't your choice either…was it?" Harry asked.

Draco looked at him curiously.

"I know you were only given the Dark Mark and ordered to murder Dumbledore because of your father's screw-up at the Department of Mysteries," Harry said. "Voldemort assumed you would die trying to kill Dumbledore, and that would be the price your father would pay for failing him, isn't that right?"

Draco pursed his lips, as though he didn't want to answer, but the Veritaserum was clearly doing its job, for he was forced to give a strained "yes" in response.

"But you didn't fail, did you?" Harry continued, setting aside the list of scripted questions he was supposed to be asking. "You managed to find a way to bring Death Eaters into Hogwarts. You cornered Dumbledore alone on top of the Astronomy Tower. You disarmed him. You exceeded Voldemort's expectations by getting to that point at all. But…you didn't kill him. You were putting your wand down."

"How do you know that?" Draco asked.

"I was there," Harry answered simply.

"What-But I would have-But then you know I'm innocent!" Draco stammered. "I didn't kill him! I didn't kill that professor! I was forced to join the Death Eaters! I'm innocent!"

"No," Harry said at once. "You're not."

Draco stared at him.

"I know you weren't given a lot of choices," Harry said. "But you still had some. You could have asked for help."

"Who would have helped me?" Draco spat. "Dumbledore?"

"He would have," Harry said. "He could have protected you. And your family."

"Well, you see, Potter," Draco said. "I don't blindly put my trust in the hands of an old man. Dumbledore wasn't the saint you all think he was, was he?"

"Ah, did you find a copy of Rita's book in Azkaban?" Harry asked pointedly.

Draco simply glared at him.

"Right then," Harry said, getting to his feet. "I think we're done here. You'll wait in this room until someone comes up to fetch you and-"

"Are they-They're taking me back to Azkaban?" Draco asked, his eyes widening. "That's it? I'm sentenced?"

"I don't know," Harry answered truthfully. "I don't make that call. I only report what you told me in this interview. Someone else makes the decision."

"No," Draco whispered, his fingers gripping into his arm. "No! Please! Don't send me back there! Please!"

Harry stopped walking towards the door and turned back to look at Draco.

"Potter…please," Draco said, his voice cracking. Rain continued to fall onto him, masking what could have been tears falling down his face. "I'll do anything, just-I can't go back there! I can't do it! Please! Please!"

Hearing Draco Malfoy, that same person who used to gloat about having the best model racing broom and a father who could buy him anything, truly beg for mercy was something that Harry never would have thought he'd witness.

Draco Malfoy looked nothing short of pathetic at this moment, and Harry couldn't help but feel empathy towards him.

Suddenly, Sirius's voice sounded in Harry's head.

"The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters."

He looked back at Draco, who was still shaking in his seat. Without saying another word, Harry turned and hurried out of the room. As he closed the door behind him, he leaned against the adjacent wall as he collected his thoughts; drops of rain still falling from the ends of his hair. He stood there for a moment before beginning his trek down the hall to a large set of double doors. He knocked once, and a loud, booming voice from inside responded.

"Come in."

Harry pushed open the door and saw Kingsley at his desk, looking through a large stack of parchment.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Kingsley said, looking up. "Here to report from your interview with Mr. Malfoy, no?"

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded. "If you're not busy."

"Just in the middle of filling out some tedious forms," Kingsley replied, shifting the stack of parchment. "I'm afraid I didn't realize just how much paperwork is involved in making the transfer to Minister of Magic. But I'm sure you've seen just how much paperwork is required here at the Ministry. I daresay you enjoyed stepping away from your desk?"

"Yes," Harry nodded. "I definitely did."

"So then," Kingsley said. "Brief me. What occurred during your interview?"

"Draco Malfoy was involved with the Death Eaters to a great extent," Harry said. "He was present during multiple murders, he carried out tasks on Lord Voldemort's orders, and he actively worked against those who were trying to bring an end to his rule."

"Followed in his father's footsteps, I'm afraid," Kingsley said heavily. "Did he dispute the charges against him?"

"A bit," Harry said. "He-He didn't commit any of the murders."

"We know that," Kingsley said. "But he was present."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "But, well, it doesn't seem like Malfoy was a, er, voluntary participant."

"He was under the Imperius Curse?" Kingsley asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Harry said. "But he was forced into the Death Eaters. He knew if he refused, Voldemort would have killed his entire family."

"He could have been given protection if he came forward," Kingsley pointed out. "The Order-"

"With all due respect, sir, when Lord Voldemort decides he wants to kill you, there isn't much protection that can be given," Harry cut in. "Even through the Order. Malfoy knew that. Draco was scared. He joined the Death Eaters because he didn't know what else to do. He grew up knowing nothing but the Dark Arts, but-but I don't think he's a Dark wizard. He wanted a way out, but he just didn't know how to find one."

"What are you saying?" Kingsley asked slowly.

Harry took a deep breath. "I don't think Draco Malfoy should be sent back to Azkaban."

"Harry," Kingsley said patiently. "I understand where you're coming from. But can you imagine if we forgave witches and wizards for all their crimes because they claimed they were forced to do them through fear?"

"Draco was still underage when he joined the Death Eaters," Harry continued. "He was only sixteen."

Kingsley didn't say anything.

"I just think…I think he can still do something with himself," Harry said. "He's not like the others that we've brought in. He wants a fresh start."

"So you'd like me to simply release him and let him go on his way?" Kingsley asked.

"No," Harry said quickly. "Put him on probation. Have him submit to monthly wand checks. Send Aurors to search his home regularly. Monitor him, but give him a second chance."

Kingsley sighed. "Normally, I would never take the recommendation of a rookie Auror over my own. But I'm inclined to trust your judgment on this matter, given all that you've handled this past year. Draco Malfoy won't return to Azkaban. He'll be sentenced to five years of probation and will be closely monitored by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. If he is found to have any further involvement in the Dark Arts, he will be placed into Azkaban."

"Of course," Harry nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Harry turned and exited the office. When he returned to his and Ron's shared office, he was glad to see that Ron was still out. He sat down at his desk and ran his fingers through his hair. He hoped he had made the right decision. What if Draco had been playing him? He could know a way to counteract the effects of Veritaserum, after all.

But Harry thought back to the tears he had seen roll down Draco's face and the way he had begged and pleaded to not be put back into Azkaban. And the way he looked that day at Malfoy Manor…he had looked like someone who was truly trapped against a wall, with nowhere to turn.

Harry knew there was no way he could ever forget his past with Draco Malfoy. The two would always be, at least in Harry's eyes, enemies. But Harry could still understand what Draco had been through. He didn't need to like him, he didn't have to respect him, but he could appreciate that there was more to Draco's situation than it might appear.

I made the right decision, Harry told himself firmly as any remaining traces of doubt left his mind.