A Year Goes By
by Shaneey
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A/N
Happy Birthday, Reno. Here is you Birthday fic. I know it seems a bit incomplete, but it just felt right to end it there. If you really want to the rest, I'll type up a Part 2 :)
I hope you're birthday was amazing, and if I have the dates correct in my mind (I left my watch at home, I have no idea what day it is.) then I'm very sorry I couldn't get this up in time.
-Oops
xxxxxxx
The blinding light shone in Draco's eyes, causing him to squint in the direction of the Order's Aurors, rather than gaze calmly as he would have preferred.
Of course, the calm would have been an act, how could it not be?
He was dead. Dead. Draco would never see and be seen by him. He would never hold and be held. Never…
Draco mentally jerked himself out of his thoughts. If he had continued any longer, he would have ruined his precarious composure. It was the only thing he had left to him, and he wasn't willing to give the Order that as well. He had already given them him, wasn't that enough?
And he wasn't willing to show those that had hated him for so long what he was truly feeling at the moment. Even though everything Slytherin in him was screaming to put a stop to this idiotic pride (because his true emotions may be the only thing that could save his life), he wouldn't.
He didn't want to be acquitted. He didn't was to be believed, or saved, or pitied.
At least if they blamed him the guilt wouldn't be quite as bad. If they accepted him, he didn't know if he could deal with any of it.
Draco's line of thought was interrupted again, this time by an outside source, rather than his own mind.
The blonde's chin was forced upward and his nose plugged by rough hands, hands he soon identified as belonging to Kingsley Shaklebolt, while a woman he guessed was his cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, poured a clear liquid into his mouth.
Veritaserum.
And a double does at that.
Not that it was needed, his thoughts had already become disjointed before the potion bottle had even been emptied.
"What is your name?"
Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfoy."
"What is the date?"
"I don't know." And he didn't know. He had tried to avoid it in fact, not that it had been hard to do so in the Order's dungeon, but he knew which date had been approaching, and he hoped beyond hope that today wasn't that day…
"The date is July 31, 1999, Mr. Malfoy."
If it hadn't been for the potion he probably would have broken out in hysterical laughter.
Merlin. It was his birthday.
"Did you cast the spell that killed Harry James Potter?"
"Yes."
"What spell did you cast to kill Harry James Potter?"
Didn't they know?
"The Killing Curse."
"Why?"
Pause. What? Why what?
"Perhaps I should have been clearer? W-"
"Yes."
Serves him right. Asking rhetorical questions…
"Of course." There was a twinkle in the man's eyes, it's intensity dampened only by current events. Why the man found his answer humorous though, Draco couldn't even begin the answer.
"Why did you cast the Killing Curse on Harry James Potter?"
"I had to."
Let them take that as they may , said the part of Draco that was Slytherin to the core, no matter what potion influenced him or what event had occurred. It was the only part of himself that could remain unchanged-despite everything.
ooo
The Order had decided to suspend the prisoner's questioning until further discussion.
Further discussion of what? Ron wanted to know.
Ron didn't understand. The git had admitted to killing Harry, why was there all this debate over whether they should take action against the Slytherin. Why had they delayed the questioning? Didn't the Order know they were wasting precious time? Time they could be using to cause that ferret as much pain as he was causing him, as he was causing Ginny?
Ginny, who had so obviously been meant to be with Harry. So they had "put their relationship on hold" and "stopped dating" for the duration of the war. All that meant was that Harry had truly loved his sister and wanted to keep her safe. Now that Junior Death Eater had hurt his family. Again.
Ron made himself a promise as he watched various Order members debate.
He would make sure, when the Order finally reached the obvious conclusion, that Malfoy was given the chance to enjoy the full wrath of the Weasley clan.
ooo
Draco didn't understand why Dumbledore had halted the questioning, and by the look on many of the younger members' faces (most notably Weasely), neither did they. The older members of the Order, though, especially senior members such as Snape and McGonagall (and Dumbledore obviously), had looked more pensive than they had a right to, Draco thought.
He watched as the Order filed back into the room and prepared the re-administration of the truth serum.
"My apologizes, Mr. Malfoy. We are ready to continue now," Dumbledore said, as if they were discussing something as common and benign as breakfast, not an interrogation.
Draco watched, his face utterly blank as the potion took hold. Underneath the potion induced stupor, though, Draco was beginning to feel nervous. What kind of questions would he be asked? Draco prayed none of the questions would reveal what he most wished to keep secret…
"Now, Mr. Malfoy, were you in the service of Voldemort?"
"Yes." Draco could have cried with relief.
Dumbledore seemed to have expected this answer. After all, couldn't they see the mark on his wrist?
"Did you enter his service willingly?"
"Yes." As long as the questions follow a pattern like this, Draco thought, I'll be able to convince them I am completely guilty. Draco didn't pause to wonder at the irony of his thoughts.
An expression of an almost surprised unhappiness spread across Dumbledore's face for less than a second, as if this had been unexpected.
"Why did you enter into Voldemort service?"
The Order was almost as confused as Draco. Why did it matter why he became a Death Eater? All that mattered was that he was one.
Draco strove for a certain amount of vagueness, "I was asked."
"Who requested that you join?" Dumbledore continued to wheedle, searching for some answer that the rest did not understand.
Damn. "Harry James Potter."
There was a gasp, followed by exclamations.
Dumbledore seemed pleased with himself, and Draco glared as strongly as the potion allowed him (which was barely), but he felt he got his point across, as Dumbledore's pleasure only increased.
"Mr. Malfoy, I apologize yet again, but I feel we must take another short break." Dumbledore stood and subtly herded the Order out of the room, where, Draco assumed, the Headmaster would lead them in a more organized discussion than the one the members were partaking in at the moment.
Draco nodded vaguely as he watched the Order file out, refusing to meet the gazes of those that glanced at him with confusion and accusations in their eyes.
ooo
Hermione didn't understand.
She had admitted it quietly as the Order discussed.
Hermione didn't understand.
Why would Harry recruit anyone to be a Death Eater, let alone Malfoy? She had always been one of Harry's closest friends, but she had no clue what the man in the other room was talking about. Everything he had said before was expected. Understood. Explainable. Precedented. The questioning had been more a formality than a true trial. Everyone had already known the outcome.
Or so she had thought.
She could tell many were thinking similar things.
The initial hubbub had died down and the majority was watching with rapt attention as Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape debated possibilities and future questions, others sat silently.
Hermione sat quietly and waited for Dumbledore to continue the questioning, only understanding that she would not understand any of this until the full story had been told.
ooo
Dumbledore sat in front of Draco and gazed at him with unreadable eyes.
Draco stared back. He knew it was foolish. He had told him of Dumbledore's Legilimancy talents. Draco consciously strengthened his Occlumency shield, but refused to look away.
The Aurors walked forward, preparing to administer the potion yet again, but the Headmaster gestured for them to wait.
"Mr. Malfoy, before we continue with the official questioning. Would you mind if I asked you some questions while you aren't- ahem- under the influence?" A benevolent smile.
Draco continued his staring contest as if Dumbledore had never said anything. The man really was barmy, wasn't he?
"Mr. Malfoy?"
Fine. I'll answer if I must.
"If I must, " Draco echoed his thoughts.
Another benevolent smile. "Why did Harry ask you to join the Death Eaters?"
Okay. Think fast. " I'm sure I wouldn't know. Not that it wasn't exactly the sweetest request I've ever heard, mind you," Draco tried to hsi hardest to sound pompous and stereotypical pureblood. "After all, 'Malfoy, why don't you join your fucking Death Eater father?' isn't exactly the way any civil pureblood expects to be spoken to."
"I see. Is that all?"
No. "Yes."
"Nymphadora, Kingsley."
He was dosed again.
"Why did Harry James Potter ask you to join Voldemort?"
Draco attempted to keep his thoughts focused on the specific time he had said the phrase Draco had repeated to Dumbledore. Some time in fourth year maybe? Fifth? He didn't know. He honestly couldn't remember exactly why he had been provoked to yell that at him at the time.
"I don't know."
Dumbledore looked at him, thinking deeply about his next question or possibly Draco's answer.
"How many times did Harry James Potter suggest that you join that Lord Voldemort?"
"I don't know."
Before, he had always been yelling at him for some reason, and he was sure that some variation of that insult had been used over and over again. But it was obviously true, he didn't know how many times it had been yelled.
Dumbledore sighed when any other man would be beyond frustration.
"I see that this method of questioning is ineffective. Mr. Malfoy, I will make a statement and you will tell me if it is correct or not, understood?"
Oh dear. "Yes."
"Harry James Potter requested that you spy on Voldemort's army for him."
Fuck. I am most certainly not going to enjoy this method of questioning. "Yes."
"You agreed to do so, and then rose within the ranks and eventually to inner circle."
"Yes."
"You have never supported Voldemort's cause."
Ha. I was raised to support Voldemort's ideals. "No."
"Within the years of open war, you did not support Voldemort's cause."
"Yes."
The war had been publicly declared by the middle of his sixth year. By that time, he had already been an unknown, if minor, contributor to the Order. After all he did know all the ins and outs of pureblood society and the allegiances of each family better than most.
There was a low murmur that was slowly becoming louder with each answer. Before it was required that they take another recess, Dumbledore gestured meaningfully at the small assembly behind him.
"Within the years of open war, the information you gathered accounted for a large number Harry James Potter's "visions," did they not?"
"Yes." Perceptive old coot.
"Now, see that wasn't so difficult."
Fuck you, Draco groused internally.
"Well, of course, Mr. Malfoy, I do have more questions to ask you, but I believe these would be best answered after the potion wears off."
Bastard. Why was he trying to prove his-his what? His innocence? He had already admitted that he had cast the Killing Curse-an Unforgivable Curse- on their hero. What more did they need to convict? Why did he need to know that Draco hadn't bought in on the Dark Lord's cause?
Why?
ooo
Ginny was still in shock or maybe denial. She kept thinking he would pop out from behind one of the thread-bare curtains and yell "Surprise!," proclaiming it all to be a stupid joke. She would berate him then hug him within an inch of his life before-perhaps-kissing him, like they had before the war had truly begun.
It was over, but he wasn't here!
But Malfoy was. Malfoy had killed Harry, and Dumbledore was smiling at him. Why was Dumbledore smiling at him? How could he be smiling at that-that murderer!
She just didn't understand what was happening, and she wasn't sure she wanted to.
ooo
"Mr. Malfoy, I know this would be considered a highly personal question, but did you and Harry have a relationship?"
Draco could hear gasps of outrage and murmurs of the indecency and ridiculousness of Dumbledore's question. Draco couldn't help but feel some twisted joy. But still had to stare at the old man incredulously. Did he honestly think he would just answer that?
"Mr. Malfoy, If you do not willingly answer, I will have to use Veritaserum, " the Headmaster lowered his voice before continuing, " and this is not the type of thing one should be forced to admit."
Draco froze. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He hadn't wanted anyone to know the truth. If he was honest with himself, he had been hoping the Order would execute him on principle, but it seemed Dumbledore was determined to force a true confession out of him.
"Such relationships are taboo and highly inappropriate, Headmaster."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
"It is insulting that you would ask me such a question."
Dumbledore's eyebrow rose further, conveying an unspoken "Are you finished yet?". The expression was so familiar, so Harry, that it almost felt like betrayal to continue his facade.
"Fine," Draco said in a hard voice, glancing to the side.
"It is understandable, Mr. Malfoy, but an answer if you will?"
Looking directly into the old man's eyes, Legilimancy be damned, he whispered, "Yes."
"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco nodded vaguely and looked away, refusing to meet anyone else's eyes.
"I will need to confer with a few of my colleagues for a moment."
ooo
Harry was homosexual?
How could this be?
Ginny was shocked. Hadn't Harry loved her? How could he love men, if he had loved her?
Ron didn't want to accept this. Harry had been like a brother to him, and someday, he had always known that Harry would become his brother-in-law. It just seemed like the most logical and natural thing to him. Harry had loved Ginny, right? If Malfoy had -loved- Harry, how could he kill him?
Hermione began to put the pieces together. Dumbledore's actions definitely seemed more logical now (as did Harry's, when Hermione began to think back, though the length of time these odd actions had occurred bothered Hermione slightly). She was glad in a way, that Harry had loved someone. Hermione had known for a long time (though none of the Weasleys seemed willing to admit it) that Harry hadn't loved Ginny anymore than he would love a younger sister.
Ginny was devastated; Ron was confused, and Hermione had finally begun to understand.
ooo