Disclaimer: I do not plan to ever make any money from my endeavors in fanfiction. The Harry Potter franchise is owned by JK Rowling and Warner Bros.

AN: So this happened to come out instead of the chapter I was struggling to finish up. It is kind of epilogue compliant, except for a few minor tweaks. The most obvious tweak being the main couple. Hope you like it. Besides, I'm trying thing where I reply to all my reviews. By the way, this is rated 'M' for a reason. Draco is an explicit thinker. Although there will be nothing exceedingly graphic, he always does what benefits him.

The Barrister

The court room was so packed full of witches and wizards that July afternoon that the sweat coming off of all of them could have supplied water to the Thames for an extra day. Draco Malfoy wondered if it were possible to have a room that smelled any worse than this one. Intense humidity made every judge on the Wizengamot look exceedingly put out and disgusting. For many the plum-colored robes were matching their overheated faces. If the Minister for Magic, one Kingsley Shacklebolt had hair, it would be stuck all to his brow, as was the suit of every member surrounding him. The Minister looked up over the thick stack of manila documents to the table, where Draco respectfully met his gaze. Kingsley gave him a slight nod and upon returning his wand to its place after having used it as a magnifying glass for several minutes, looked about his fellow members and then to the audience all chatting amongst themselves. "Does the defendant have any further evidence to offer, Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy suppressed a grin as he stood and approached the center of the stuffy and finely tiled room. He did not even bother looking at his client, it would be best if Blaise Zabini kept his mouth shut. He tended to get far too passionate when he was nervous. Malfoy crossed his arms and he was certain a few of the people in the audience gasped. "Just one remaining item I would like to offer to the Wizengamot on the behalf of my client." Kingsley looked amused at the very least, leaning his chin in his hand.

"You may proceed."

"Mr. Zabini has no motive to carry out the crime Ms. Edgecombe believes he committed. It is clear to everyone in this room that Mr. Zabini comes from a pureblood family, as well as Ms. Edgecombe. As I am sure that many of you know, pureblood families follow many archaic ideals and rituals. Stealing jewelry from the Edgecombe family, when the Mrs. Zabini has plenty of jewelry from her several suitors would be considered meaningless in the first place."

The middle-aged prosecutor stood and objected on the grounds of hearsay. Kingsley warned him, but let Draco continue.

"As I was saying, Mr. Zabini has a high-paying profession as editor of Quidditch Quarterly, there is no reason or opportunity that has been presented in this case that would allow Mr. Zabini to be allowed onto the property of the Edgecombe residence. " The prosecution tried to cut in here, but Draco pushed on, running a hand through his hair to keep in out of his face as he looked Kingsley in the eyes.

"And if my client had been engaging in an affair with this woman, when he is already in a high profile relationship with Gabrielle Delacour, the Witch Weekly model-" Draco spied a glance at the frankly, atrocious looking Marietta in an itchy-looking orange jumper and clog-like shoes. She was bright red. The audience broke out into loud talk, somewhere behind Draco's back.

"Ms. Edgecombe would have something of his. A single picture of the two of them? There is no evidence of any illicit relationship. The last time Mr. Zabini came by Ms. Edgecombe, it is agreed by both the defense and the prosecution it was to settle a debt between the families. The Edgecombe and Zabini estates are on notoriously bad terms. Furthermore, if this supposed jewelry was actually Ms. Edgecombe's then it would have been embellished with the Edgecombe insignia. Family jewelry, down to the tiniest bauble will at the very least have the last name on the back of the plating. There are no receipts or a large amount of fortune to be had at the Edgecombe estate. For Ms. Edgecombe to spend 4 times her marriage dowry seems improbable, but also preposterous. As was mentioned earlier, my client has a very good job. It would seem that my client is merely being victimized for his fortune from a stranger he hardly knows."

Draco turned to find his good friend waving a thin receipt paper at him. He had written on the back of it and was waving it at Draco to see. He caught a house elf making a quick exit out the wide chestnut doors a moment later. The barrister can suppress his grin no longer as he takes the receipt and hands it off to the auror on duty, who then hands it directly to the Minister. "In closing, my client pleads not guilty on all charges. The defense rests." Draco took a seat next to Blaise and downed the tall glass of water that had been waiting for him.

Kingsley looked over the receipt for an entirety of a second before the prosecution tried to stand. Kingsley quieted them. "With this new evidence, it would seem unnecessary to continue. The court will now decide." The Wizengamot was almost unanimous in favor of Zabini. Edgecombe was dismissed and everyone cleared out quickly.

Blaise punched Draco hard on the shoulder as he stood. "I can't believe you got me out of that one." The blonde held his tongue as they exited the courtroom. The press was waiting for the pair of them, effectively blocking them from exiting the cool hallway of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Draco asked that they hold pictures until they had finished interviewing. Draco wanted to get the chance to look less sweaty if this was going to make the Prophet. He cast a few discreet charms on his hair and face, which made him feel much better in the process. After Zabini had said his bit on how glorious his barrister was, they had a couple shots together before Zabini started off toward the exit. Draco walked alongside him toward the elevator. As they waited for the slow machine to lurch to a stop on their floor, he made it a point to hand the Prophet and the Quibbler his calling card. He would arrange a more in-depth interview when it better suited him. After all, everyone would make more money that way. Blaise and himself stepped into the elevator smartly, after his friend had whipped his wand to make the doors close before any of the reporters could slip in. As the elevator creaked slowly upwards, Blaise laughed.

"Honestly mate, you got me out of something that going to cost me hundreds of galleons. I didn't steal that damned jewelry from her, she assumed it was hers. Of course it was for Gab. You resolved the case without having to mention that Marietta spent the last part of two months under my desk. She was absolutely nutter to think that anything would come of that relationship." Draco searched his reflection past Blaise's body in the reflective surface of the elevator walls. His pale skin looked peaky and he definitely needed an afternoon off. Maybe even a long weekend. Yes, cool dip in the pool at the Manor will freshen him right up.

"You're absolutely insane to let that disgusting woman even touch you. Marietta Edgecombe is a tragedy. Besides, it is not like she was going to out your compromising relationship. She has little shreds of honor left to hold onto, I understand." Draco just had to laugh at the amused looked on Blaise's face. "I say, for good measure you file a restraining order against her. Oh and make sure you double your secretary's raise this year. Don't want any embarrassing revelations coming up." Blaise laughed in that cocky manner Draco was so used to and they walked out of the elevator together.

"Coming over later with Gabrielle, around seven? I'll have the bird over too." Draco asked, managing a posh grin to the nearest press.

"I can't. Gab's in France this week and I don't think I'll be having her on for much longer anyway. She's starting to ask about for commitment and other ridiculous ideas. That Alicia Spinnet is looking fitter every moment." Blaise's wide white smile glinted against the green flames of the approaching floo network. Draco watched for a moment as Blaise adjusted his herringbone-detailed dress robes smartly before stepping into flames. "I'll be callin' 'round tomorrow evening. I forwarded your galleons to the office. Cheers!" He was gone the next moment. Draco smirked at the now empty fireplace. He took the one next to it and in a moment his mother's icy blue eyes were upon him. She was expecting him? Narcissa looked older now, at least to Draco she did. It had been seven years since the Battle for Hogwarts. At 26, he was a successful barrister and head of the Malfoy family. His father got twenty years in prison and passed over the besmirched Malfoy name for Draco to polish. Perhaps it was his father's absence or the aftermath of the war, but his mother had become much more of a homebody than she had ever been during Draco's youth. All of the silent evenings at home encouraged Draco's research.

It only took four short years for him to obtain his degree, but no one was interested in hiring on a former Death Eater- much less a racist. His father suggested that he start his own firm and all things considered, it was the best business move he could have made. At first it was only pureblooded families that would allow him to represent them, but purebloods did have friends that were not purebloods every once in a while.

Narcissa looked up from her book and smiled at him. She congratulated him and then patted the seat next to her. They spoke a while over the case. He gave her the dry version. His mother could do without the whole truth, sexual favors included. His mother's face did not look any different than ever, but her eyes looked tired. His mother was much too vain to allow such trifles as time to change her face. She was smirking at him as he observed her. Quietly she pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet from beside the pristine white couch. The room was drafty and furnished in spring-like colors, yet it was dark. She must be avoiding the heat. After she balanced the paper on Draco's lap and drew the curtain to add light to the room she kissed him on the forehead.

"Take a swim today son. You deserve to take the afternoon off. Your father will be very proud." With that she checked the time from the ornate silver clock on a white marble table nearby and went directly to the floo. It was four pm and Narcissa visited her husband daily. With a singular snap a house elf appeared with her effects and she was gone from the fireplace. Draco let out a breath and practically threw off his robes and his fine dark blue silk vest. His clothes were uncomfortable and far too warm. Handing his discarded clothing to the house elf that was nearby; he walked briskly down the west wing of the Malfoy Manor. Fine Italian leather shoes tapped on the black marble as he shoved the Prophet under one arm and loosened his tie. Divesting of it and handing it to the elf that was practically under his feet.

The skylight pouring reflections against cool blue water made the pool look like heaven. Draco couldn't lay the remainder of his things on the glass table fast enough. He pulled down his trousers and placed his rings on the table top, just as the newspaper unfolded to lay flat beside his family heirlooms. Grey eyes glanced at the headlines. 'GRANGER, WAR HERO LOST HER JOB BECAUSE OF BLOOD STATUS?' A raised eyebrow and a skinny dive into the pool later, Malfoy forgot everything. He floated in the pool. Shameless. What would he have to fear? His mother stayed the entire three hour visitation period and he expected no one. Draco looked at himself in the blue glow of the water. Proud was definitely a term he would use. This body was 80% inherent and 20% effort. Blaise wasn't the only playboy in Wizarding London after all. His fiancé understood. They had an arrangement. Astoria was definitely bred to be a perfect wife. She was easily able to work a room and she even had a wild streak a mile wide, but they were just mates. Although it had never been really written out, it was understood that this was something they both had to do. It isn't that he didn't like her or didn't find her attractive. Merlin, was she a fox. It was simply that he didn't feel particularly much beyond friends. She was talented between the sheets, but looking at her he saw companionship not passionate vibrancy. It would be like settling. So they'd marry, have an heir, divorce, and move on with their lives. Surfacing in the center, his eyes gazed at the crystal skylight.

The doors to the main hall creaked open suddenly and Draco struggled to find the effort to care. "Draco, look at this? I could have been the bleeding Minister. Just willing to show off the jewels to anyone these days?" For his part, he smirked and swam to edge of the pool. Astoria looked down at him her blouse already draping over his on the table. He folded his arms on the poolside, watching her undress like a cat that ate the canary. She giggled as he mustered his manners enough to assist her on the way in. "Glorious." Astoria said airily, her dirty blonde hair was already wet up to the chin. She wrapped her legs around his hips in a nanosecond. "Speaking of 'glorious' and 'jewels;' I heard a 'congratulations' is in order?" Draco slid his hands to ensnare around her hips, dipping a bit lower and disappearing in the water in a fluid movement. Astoria lofted a perfectly manicured eyebrow at his ministrations. "I take that as a 'yes?'" She let her grip around his hips slide a little, so she was riding a bit lower. "I'm offended Draco. No, how lovely of you to come over, strip, and jump in the pool with me, Astoria? How was your sodding day, Bird?" Draco pinned her against one of the tiled walls disharmoniously. His wand was summoned to lock the doors.

"Well, my day was good and honestly, if your day was terrible, it just got better." He offered, gripping her by the shoulders. This was their personal game. The couple flirted relentlessly, snuck around, and whispered things they both didn't really mean. He was certain that she had other partners and although that made him the slightest bit jealous, who was he to judge? So until they were married, it didn't really matter. From experience, Draco knew it was always more fun to pretend that the other person gave a rat's arse about you when you get their clothes off. Real talk was for when their clothes were on. Astoria knew that as he sunk into her, he hoped that she would find someone after their arrangement. It was also taboo to talk about any other rendezvous they were taking part in respectively. Do whoever, whatever, wherever, whenever, just so long as it's protected. Her echoes and his met each other on the ceiling. They repeated for a while before making it up to the sitting room to his bedroom. After Astoria took advantage of Draco's marble tub, she was fast asleep, strewn across his bed.

It was getting dark out now. He put a 'lumos' to the lantern out on his veranda and put his feet up on the railing of the table. As the purples and pinks met with the red sun; Draco spread out the newspaper on his lap. The pictures simultaneously came to life. He read the headline and inquired within.

Hermione Granger (26) best known for her hand in the defeat of Lord Voldemort back in 1998 was let go from her job at St. Mungo's last Friday. Insiders say that after a heated spat with the Head Healer on duty, one Marjorie Heckle, Miss Granger was seen leaving quickly out the front entrance. Our sources say that the argument in question, which started as a simple disagreement about what floor she was to be walking and ended with Ms. Heckle saying that Miss Granger was an 'idiot' for being raised like such a 'filthy muggle.' Miss Granger could not be reached for comment. Although it is unclear whether or not our hero will press charges on the prejudice, it seems likely she has her work cut out for her. Article continues on C6. – Associated Press

Draco folded the paper and set it aside. That would definitely be a comeback. A pureblood ex-Death Eater acts as barrister for the most popular muggleborn in all time. Oh yes, he would be acquiring in on that one soon. He watched as one of the male peacocks on the lawn spread their feathers out on display. The truth was the more he thought on it, it seemed unlikely she would accept help from him. A Malfoy isn't going to stoop to apologizing about ancient history. Would she be the type to overestimate her abilities in court? Would she go quietly and not say anything to her employer? No, he'll make her think she wants him. What's the quickest way to Hermione Granger?

There was a tap at the window of the veranda and he saw the figure of Astoria waving over her shoulder and into the fireplace. At least she didn't linger. Hermione Granger lingered. Seduce? No, that was insulting to the both of them, mainly himself. In school she lingered all around Potter and the Weasels. No bloody way was he stooping to making buddy with a Weasel. He'd never hear the end of it. Harry Potter seemed easier. More likely to give second chances and all that rot, even if he was secretive. Tabloids were going mad about two years back when he cut it off with Ginerva Weasley and took up with a man. So, either make buddy with Hermione Granger or Harry Potter, to offer his services as barrister for Granger's cause. Win that case and Draco would be free to take on something like his father's parole. At the very least, to help a member of the Golden Trio in the public sense was like a free advertisement for your business. Operative: approach Potter first and ask questions later.

TBC...