Title: Subject To Change (yes this is the full working title, not that the title is subject to change)

Rating: T

Characters: Draco/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, Ron/OC

Summary: When Draco Malfoy is found half dead in a deserted field and it's up to Hermione and her co-worker to find out his secrets. When she finds out, will she continue to send him to Azkaban or try to get him off the trial without punishment?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or The Fray's songs.

Chapter 1: Dead Wrong

If only I knew what I know, I'd make it a point to say so, To everyone that got me here, And everyone that made it clear.
I was dead wrong all along.

Dead Wrong ~ The Fray

Hermione stared out her window; she never thought she would say it but work was starting to get boring. As a criminal psychologist for wizards (and witches), she had to deal with a variety of patients but there had not been many death eater captures in months and the patients she had helped most recently were soon to be better - not that she wished ill health on her patients or anything of the sort.

The last successful 'raid', as the aurors called it, resulted in a captured Death Eater and his wife with post-traumatic stress disorder. None of the latest searches had featured any Death Eaters, or anyone else for that matter. Most had been caught and placed in Azkaban apart from the few who had memories which were needed to prosecute another delinquent with a... tricky background.

Since the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione had completed her NEWTs and had become a healer at St Mungo's. Specialising in psychology, the brainy witch had been asked to help the ministry with some rather unusual cases. She had then decided that this was the job for her. Although she helped defeat the death eaters during Voldemort's uprising, she was now using her scientific abilities to help them conquer their problems and make the world a better place. Especially seeing as she had already won the protest for S.P.E.W. and the protest to keep dementors from, well, dementing the prisoners.

On this rainy day, however, the view was cold, wet and dark. A storm was brewing and this witch knew that she would get wet on her way home, for she had forgotten her umbrella - or as Mr Weasley liked to call it: her "umbrebera". Living life as a muggle in this part of London was partly a relief for Hermione; she could have many muggle neighbours and friends in this fine area of town. Yet it would look very suspicious if she just apparated in front of her house completely dry. Moreover, she liked to use the time on the knight bus to think about her patients and her work; it was a full time occupation. She would be on call during the night and spent most the daylight hours at her work. Of course, she had weekends off.

After looking at the clock and seeing that her shift was almost over, Hermione started to pack up her files and papers. She grabbed her bags and made her way towards the door from her office until she caught sight of a group of people coming towards the front doors through the large window behind her desk.

The office rarely had visitors so Hermione guessed they weren't here to celebrate a social occasion. It was probably another group of aurors with a death eater. Perhaps Harry would be with them this time? Hermione thought as she hurried down the stairs. Why they didn't create a lift in this place was a story for another day; for it was a story with a lot of confusion and annoyance in.

As she approached, she could hear the group talking amongst themselves. They were crowded around a figure that was being carried on a makeshift stretcher which, if you must know, was a standard piece of equipment in the medical kit issued out to all aurors. That they had been made to create a makeshift stretcher instead of a real one was not a good sign.

"Hermione?" Asked one of the people in cloaks whilst taking down his hood.

"Harry! It's great to see you again," Hermione rushed over to see her old friend, "Who am I to thank this time?" she inquired, referring to the wizard on the stretcher.

"Guess." He stated.

Hermione gave a sigh of exasperation; a sound well known to Harry and Ron. "Give me a clue at least."

"We used to see this person at Hogwarts."

"Right, Snape's already... deceased so it's not him. The Carrows are incarcerated. Karkaroff was murdered by one of Voldemort's own men. They were the only men and women with the dark mark there." Hermione worked out, confused.

"Well," Harry started, "what if he wasn't exactly a 'man' then?"

"You mean . . ." Hermione's eyes grew wider.

"Yes. We found Draco Malfoy."

"Is he okay?" She asked whilst silently hoping the answer was yes.

"No. No, he's not, actually. It wasn't us though! Strangely he was hurt before we got there. When we found him, he was lying in a deserted field with the dark mark floating above his body. It looked like there had been a fight and as soon as we arrived at his body, we saw that he was half dead. I'm guessing that whoever did it wasn't betting on us coming along. I have no idea what amount of spells were used but it wasn't a pretty sight – we cleaned him up as much as possible though. He's in a right state – come and see." He took Hermione's hand and led her over to the medical room where the other aurors had taken Malfoy.

The 20 year old was lying face up on a bed not unlike one in St Mungo's. His white-blond hair was stained red with, Hermione assumed, his own blood. The steely grey eyes that she and Harry had grown so used to being glared at by were open, even though Draco did not look awake or at all aware of his surroundings. He looked lost in unpleasant thoughts, like he was in a trance and he was whimpering and shivering uncontrollably. It was a creepy sight which made Hermione wonder what her old enemy had been subject to.

Healers were scurrying to and from the bed trying to administer potions that didn't seem to help much. Because Hermione had trained as a healer for some time, she went over to help with the seemingly ineffective task.

Once they had gotten Malfoy into a manageable state, Hermione grabbed a Patient Sheet and started to fill it in, although she knew she couldn't know all of the details. He had never told her his middle name, though she assumed it was Lucius, and she didn't know whether he had a spouse or not. Harry, feeling left out, peered over her shoulder.

"You know, I can't even remember when his birthday was." He pondered. "I don't remember him ever celebrating."

"Yes you do, remember. It was that time when Slytherin had won a quidditch match and you and Ron were convinced that it was only because he had been given a bottle of Felix Felicis for a present..."

"Oh. Oh, yeah."

There was silence as both Harry and Hermione reminisced about their school days that seemed so long ago. They recalled every spell, every charm, every time that they had broken the rules, every detention, every insult, every Dumbledore's Army meeting, every house cup, every potion, every friend and every enemy.

"Excuse me." A happy witch appeared in front of them. With her brown-red hair in pigtails, she looked young and naive. Hermione knew this was just an illusion.

"Ah, Sienna," said Hermione as she greeted her co-worker, "You're early."

"Am I?" The witch looked at the clock, "I am! Wow. That's a surprise. Very unusual..."

Hermione smiled; some people would think Sienna was a klutz but she was not. She only kept up the pretence because she felt insecure. Hermione had worked this out on Sienna's first day. In fact, Sienna's other personality reminded Hermione of a witch she used to know. A witch named Luna Lovegood.

"Oh!" Sienna suddenly remembered, "I came here to ask you if you wanted to take this patient as a coalition. I don't think I'm fully up for a D-Death Eater yet..."

"Um," Hermione deliberated, "That would be fine by me." She caught sight of Sienna grinning.

"I don't believe we've met," Harry began, "My name's Harry."

"Yeah, I'm quite new here. Wait, did you mean Harry Potter? As in the Harry Potter!"

"That's me." Harry replied, giving her one of his famous smiles.

Sienna quickly grabbed the hand that Harry had offered to her and shook it fervently.

"I've heard all about you; I've read all your interviews since the ones in the Quibbler: I had them delivered to me while I was at Beauxbatons." She explained.

"So you believe in Rumple Snored Horbacks or whatever they're called?"

"Crumple-Horned Snorkacks." She replied defensively.

"I guess that's a yes," Harry whispered to Hermione, "Anyway, I should be going now. See you at The Burrow on Friday?"

Dinners at the Weasley's were no longer every night, thankfully. Not everyone showed up until it became more of a weekly thing. Mrs Weasley started the scheme after the Battle – after Fred died. Hermione diagnosed it as being because she wanted to surround herself with people in order to forget about her son's death. Everyone always tried to come every Friday though, it wasn't great to feel lonely.

"Yes, well, I should be going but this one might cause some trouble."

"You can rely on Malfoy to do that. Ron told me that Mrs Weasley ha something planned this week. We don't know what though but if we find out, we'll tell you. See you soon, Hermione, Sienna." He nodded at them as he passed.

"So," said Sienna, "Where do we start?"

"Usually you'd try to identify him but we've already done that. Next you would: Scougify!" Hermione pointed her wand at the unconscious figure on the bed.

"Oh thank Merlin, I was hoping you'd do that part. Spells aren't exactly my strong point. I would've messed it all up."

They sat in silence for a while. Hermione tried to find a reason for the Death Eaters giving up one of their own – especially when their numbers were so scarce. What had Malfoy done to upset them? She had better find out before the trial, she thought. It could influence the result.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Sienna,

"You used to know him, didn't you? What... What was he like?"

"He-he was a total jerk. He hated Mudbloods, Gryffindors, Harry Potter, Blood Traitors, pretty much the whole idea of the 'Golden Trio' and I suppose half-breeds to an extent."

"Ah. Not such a nice guy then."

"Not at all. I mean, he was such a..." She searched for a word to describe him, "Bully, that I actually slapped him in the face in our third year."

"You?" Sienna asked, shocked, "Hermione Granger? Hit someone? In third year?"

The girl in question nodded sheepishly though she looked quite proud of the feat she had accomplished.

"What has the world come to?" She laughed, her voice sounding twinkly, "Was he that bad?"

"Yes. He was an arrogant prat. And the most annoying part is that without him we wouldn't have won the war..."

"Oh." Sienna knew enough to not get onto the topic of the war, "Shall we check if the 'arrogant prat' is still breathing?" She said, mocking her friend.

Hermione smiled, "If we have to," she sighed over-exaggeratedly.