Draco sat straight-backed, ignoring the judging eyes of the Wizengamot and reporters scrutinizing him from across the court room.
He shifted, making it look more like he was dissatisfied with the poor cushioning of the chair he had been provided with than his actual nervousness. It had been four months since the ware had ended, and while the majority of the Death Eaters had been either captured or killed, the Ministry was only now getting to those that were merely 'suspected' to have been working for the Dark Lord.
It was abundantly obvious that his father had been in Voldemort's service, and as such he had been sentenced to life in Azkaban, only narrowly avoiding the Dementor's Kiss. But, from the conditions he was held in, Draco wasn't so sure it was the better outcome.
His mother had been more fortunate, only having received five years of house arrest. He held back a smile as he remembered the countless tirades he had listened to on the horror of being cooped up and kept out of all social affairs for such a duration, but they both knew, compared to her former companions, she was very fortunate.
Her good fortune it turned out, much to Draco's disgruntled disbelief, had come from none other than Harry Potter. His mother had told him the story of the Final Battle and how she had saved him, and he wasn't sure whose actions he was more surprised with, Potter's or her's.
For all Draco was concerned with, Potter had done his part and paid the life-debt when he had spoken on his mother's behalf and spared her from the worse of punishments. But apparently that idiotic Gryffindor notion of loyalty was what had brought Potter back to the same court room to speak on Draco's behalf. Honesty, he wasn't sure whether to be grateful or disgusted.
"Mr. Malfoy"
Draco's head snapped up at his name, meeting the head of the court's gaze dead on without a trace of his inner anxiety.
"Yes?" he said, arching an eyebrow in obvious disdain at the court's proceedings.
"Are you aware of all the defense that has been presented on your behalf and agree to it as truth?"
Draco pretended to think it over, eyes straying over to Potter, the lone witness available to testify on his behalf as all his friends were either in Azkaban with his father, under house arrest, or in hiding.
Potter had given a surprisingly good testimony, portraying Draco in a light he never would have envisioned himself in. And one that struck far too close to home at the same time. He had painted Draco as just a kid like everyone else at Hogwarts, scared and desperate to protect his family. He had also helpfully neglected to mention that Draco had attempted to use the Cruciatus curse on him during their sixth year.
"I am" he finally said, meeting startling emerald eyes for a brief, uncomfortable moment before once again turning to face the Wizengamot.
"Well then, seeing as there are no more witnesses and your testimony has already been given, it is time for the court's decision. Have you reached a verdict?" the woman asked, turning to face the rest of the witches and wizards that were so casually deciding his fate.
Draco subtly gripped the edge of his seat as the Chief Warlock stood, holding a white envelope in his hand and peering down at Draco dispassionately. Or. . . no. Not dispassion. Draco could have sworn that he saw a glint of amusement in his eyes. How strange.
In a break from standard protocol, he didn't move to address Draco but instead turned to Potter. "Mr. Potter, are you sure, under oath, that you believe Mr. Malfoy to be innocent and not deserving of Azkaban?"
"I do" Potter said, eyes fixed on Draco as he ignored the rising murmurs of the press.
"Well then, we have reached a decision. This, particular ruling has not been reached in several decades, but is still a part of our law system and we find that it fits this . . . particular case very nicely. In light of all the testimony given, we have found Draco Malfoy not to have been proven either innocent nor guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. And in light of the serious crimes he has been charged with, have decided to bind him to Mr. Potter through the Fidelus Loyatus charm for the duration of one year."
Draco's face had been drained of all color by the end of the man's sentence, a look of horror crossing his face as his eyes automatically moved to Potter. Instead of the evil or at least satisfied look he expected to see on his face, he was only met with confusion.
'Of course' he thought 'the fool doesn't even realize the power he's just been given over me.'
"I'm sorry" Potter spoke up, making Draco want to do nothing more than strike him across the face. It was bad enough as it was without Potter's comments messing it up. "I'm not aware of that charm."
"The spell, Mr. Potter" the Chief Warlock began, cruel mirth crossing his features, "Is a form of bondage. It binds the debtor to the person that they are indebted to. It is designed to force them into their service as repayment. They cannot betray them, and are essentially at their bidding for all tasks from the grandiose to the minimal household cleanings." He said the last with such a grin that Draco had to clasp his hands together as a physical restraint from leaping out of his seat and strangling the man.
He glanced back over to Potter to see a look of horror on his face. "A form of bondage" he spluttered, "What, like, servitude? Slavery?"
"Well, in a sense, yes."
"Merlin that's no better than a house elf. I can't . . . I apologize to the court but I refuse."
"Well Mr. Potter it is always in your right to do so but know that for Mr. Malfoy it is either the spell or Azkaban."
The press was having a field day, excited mutterings once again filling the courtroom as quills soared across parchment.
Harry looked like he was physically going to be sick at the thought, as if he honestly didn't want to hold that power over another human, and Draco was struck once again by the drastic differences between them.
"Well, if those are the only two choices then . . . then of course I'll choose the spell." He said, setting his jaw before he glanced at Draco for a brief moment, then turned resolutely back to face the front of the court.
"Excellent. The binding will take place immediately. This court is dismissed, Aurors, please escort Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy to the antechamber."
Draco continued to appear stoic as ever on the outside, though if he had had his way and didn't have to worry about keeping up any appearances, no matter how fragile they may now be, he would've punched the damn Aurors that were now unbinding him while screaming as many profanities he knew and throwing such a tantrum even the most spoiled toddler would be put to shame.
As it was, he stood regally once he was unbound, following the Aurors silently while ignoring the jeers and questions from the reporters and spectators.
A cool sense of dread went down his spine and gave him chills as he was finally ushered into a dark, empty room adjacent to the court room. The back wall was lined with Aurors and Potter stood in the center next to the Chief Warlock.
It was on numb feet Draco met them at the center, feeling as if he was in a trance as he extended his arm as instructed and felt Potter's warm hand lain atop his.
Potter wouldn't meet his gaze and Draco merely took the time to resign himself to his fate, his stomach churning in protest as he thanked Merlin he hadn't been given breakfast in his holding cell that morning.
He ignored the rising chant from the Warlock and felt Potter grip his hand just a tad tighter. And, as the chant rose louder than ever, it was with one last thought of 'fuck my life' that Draco felt the spell lock into place. It felt as if he had suddenly been thrust into a tub of ice and he knew, without a doubt, that for a year he was now in the service of none other than Harry Potter. 'Fuck my life indeed'.
AN: So I was given this prompt quite a while ago but am only just now attempting it. I haven't written these two in a while but I hope it wasn't too bad. Let me know what you think.
Reviews are Love! =D