I'm baaaaaack!

Well, while I was going through trying to revise my pride and joy the Gryffindor Girl and the Slytherin Seeker (if you love LONG fics please check that out), and while I was walking around school, I thought about this scenario. And I thought, oh what the hell just write it!

Summary: After the war and Ministry reassembles, past Deatheaters are called before the Wizengamot to receive sentencing. Draco Malfoy is among the ones called, charged with the attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore. However, a couple of his old "foes" decide to help him out, causing the new Minister of Magic to go easy on him. His sentence? One year in a Muggle school…in America. Oh the possibilities.

Disclaimer: As always I own nothing except these random Americans.

The first chapter is a bit slow and dramatic, but it does get better.

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THE SENTENCE

CHAPTER ONE: THE TRAIL

Draco Malfoy entered the court room, dressed the best he had ever been dressed, staring at his shoes the entire time. His mother hurried him along, scowling at everyone in the room responsible for forcing her son to come here. He was only seventeen, for Merlin's sake! Was he really supposed to pay for something that was nothing more than a mere flaw in judgement? In fact, Narcissa Malfoy felt if anyone should pay for her son's supposed "crime", it was herself. She could have stopped this long ago by trying to stop Lucius from his ridiculous standards, refusing to be a Deatheater, even not marrying Lucius at all. She shook her head. Draco was all Lucius had ever given her, and was the only reason Narcissa would ever be greatful to that man. They stepped to the side, taking their seats.

Draco, however, was not thinking of his father. In fact, he was barely thinking at all. He continued to stare at the floor, blocking out the sound of rustling people in the stands of the new Wizengamot, Minister Shackbolt at the head. He didn't have to go over what he was going to say. He had already decided on telling the truth. With the Dark Lord gone now, his family was safe, even if he would possibly serve time in Azkaban for attempted murder.

"You're not a killer, Draco," he had said. Dumbledore had been right about that. He wasn't a killer. Had those Deatheaters not shown up when they did, he was prepared to allow the old man to help him. He heaved a tremendous sigh and swallowed hard as his mother placed a hand on his shoulder. Draco frankly wished his mother would leave him be.

"Draco, please be reasonable," Narcissa begged her son. Though he wasn't looking at her, he heard the tears she was holding back. She choked. "It's not too late. I can have someone here to defend you in now time!"

"No, Mum," Draco said flatly. He had already told her no three times before. "I rather just defend myself. I want them to give me the sentence I deserve, not some cushy replacement because some attorney can twist my story into the whole 'poor lonely Malfoy boy.'" Draco sighed, looking at his mother for the first time since they entered the Ministry. She looked so broken by her words, and he hated it, but he knew he, for once, had to do the right thing. He forced a smirk, which was extremely difficult with his stomach turning every twenty seconds. "It should be alright. I mean, what evidence do they have?"

Suddenly the room came to order, Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minister of Magic, began announcing the members of the Wizengamot. It was suddenly becoming too real to Draco, and his pale palms began to sweat profusely. He took a shaky breath, his heart pounding insanely, as if it were trying to escape the prison of his rib cage.

"We have gathered to look over the case of one, Draco Vladimir Malfoy," Shacklebolt announced, looking over to Draco and his mother, "who is charged with the attempted murder and accessory to the murder of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Shacklebolt stared at Draco, as if trying to see through him, his eyes narrowed. "Does the defendant have someone to represent him?"

Draco cleared his throat and stood up straight, trying to look as confident and well-groomed as possible, hoping the Minister couldn't see the bags under his pale gray eyes. He hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. He knew he had no one to defend him. Dumbledore was gone and the only other person who would ever be there for him, who would help him, who had tried to help him, was dead as well. Draco took a breath."No, sir-,"

"Yes he does," said a voice as a door swung open and shut. A familiar face to Draco walked in. A much older woman with a stern demeanor and her dark hair tied in a tight bun. Draco's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"State your full name, please?" Shacklebolt told the woman. Her hands went to her hips.

"Kingsley, you know me!" Minerva McGonagall said in outrage. Draco could have sworn he had seen Shacklebolt's mouth twitch.

"That's Minister, to you," he said sternly, obviously trying hard not to smile. "Now, full name."

McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Minerva Claire McGonagall, new Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Shacklebolt nodded, now grinning. "Now was that so hard?" McGonagall glared. He turned to Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, if you will take your seat."

Draco nodded stiffly before rising, giving his mother's hand a quick squeeze as the walked over the chair in the middle of the room, taking deep breaths every step of the way. He swallowed hard again.

"Now, Professor McGonagall," Shacklebolt said, his professional persona returning, "you are aware to charges against Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes," McGonagall told him, folding her arms. "And they are nothing short of outrageous!"

Shacklebolt seemed taken aback, as was Draco, who eyed her curiously. He really hoped she didn't try to paint him as some wonderful student and great person, because he never was and never would be, and he knew McGonagall knew this. "Explain," Shacklebolt told her.

"Well, for starters," McGonagall began, "you are forgetting that at the time Mr. Malfoy was only sixteen years old, and was under pressure from his father to take on the...the assignment." Her words were breaking for a moment, but she seemed to recover. "He was a scared, confused teenager! How can you possibly even charge him?"

"He was there," Shacklebolt replied. "And it proves that he is very easily swayed by promises and prizes,-"

"What?!" Draco snapped. McGonagall gave him a stern look before he said anything more. He didn't like this. He wanted to speak for himself, not have someone put words in his mouth.

"The bottom line, Professor McGonagall," Shacklebolt continued, "is that though he was young, he managed to get himself mixed up in one of the biggest murders in history. You can say what you will, but he was not aware of what Snape and Dumbledore had planned, therefore Mr. Malfoy could have very well been at the Astronomy Tower with every intention of killing Albus Dumbledore."

"That is entirely speculation!" McGonagall shot the Minister. "If that is all you have, than this whole thing is a waste of all of our time."

"Professor, please, do not make me have to hold you in contempt," Shacklebolt turned to Draco. He was fuming inside. He didn't like the idea of people bickering about him as he sat right there. "Do you have anything to say for yourself, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco looked over at his mother, who was holding a handkerchief to her leaking gray eyes. She held his gaze for a moment, as if pleading with him. Then he looked at McGonagall, who shrugged and nodded. Draco turned back to the Wizengamot, this time he stood up.

"You're right," he said, his glare prominent. "I had every intention of doing what I had been assigned. I tried several times to do it before then, but all attempts failed." He took a breath. "But then, Dumbledore talked to me. He told me I wasn't a killer, and that he could protect me and my mother, even my dad. After he said that," Draco looked at all of them, "I was going to take his offer. I was going to let him help. But then, the other's showed up..." He cut off turning away. "That's my side of the story. Take it or leave it." He sat back and watched as the Wizengamot murmured and whispered. He knew then that no one had believed him, and he could hear his mother nearly sobbing from her seat. Draco stared at the floor again. He was going to Azkaban.

"Well, unfortunately, Mr. Malfoy," Shacklebolt told him, "All we have is your word and a very passionate testimony from your...representative," he nodded to McGonagall. "However, there is no proof that shows that you suddenly 'changed your mind' at the last minute, but plenty of testimony from other Deatheaters that came in before you that states you as having every intention and every will to kill Albus Dumbledore. You were not Imperiused, and despite what has been stated, you were not technically forced. So unless there is a witness willing to speak for you-,"

"I'll speak for him," said a voice as a boy stomped from behind the shadows. His jet black hair was messy as ever and his piercing green eyes were narrowed at Shacklebolt. Draco set his jaw and his fist clenched.

"What are YOU doing here?!" Draco shouted. Harry Potter ignored him, staring only at the Wizengamot.

"Silence, Mr. Malfoy," Shacklebolt commanded. Draco glared lethally. Great, now wonderful Saint Potter had to come to his rescue! Lovely! "Full name."

Potter stared, as Draco rolled his eyes. Really? Did he really have to asked the person who only a few months before just saved the entire wizarding world what his full name was. Potter frowned but said quickly, "Harry James Potter."

Shacklebolt nodded. "Alright, go on. What testimony do you have?"

Potter took a couple steps forward before clearing his throat. Draco sighed again. He was undeniably doomed.

"I was there that night," Potter began, "at the Astronomy Tower. I was hiding under my Invisibility Cloak. Dumbledore was keeping me safe. But as I was stuck there, I saw Draco. I...I kinda had been following him for a while, trying to figure out what he was up to, but when I saw him in front of Dumbledore, I could just tell," Potter looked at Draco, and Draco almost went over a pummled him. Leave it to The-Boy-Who-Just-Won't-Die to take things into his own hands and meddle around, as if it were his business. And then here he was, once again getting involved where he didn't belong. Who did this git think he was?! "I could just tell that...he wasn't going t do it. Plus, what Malfoy said was right. When Dumbledore began to offer him protection, and began talking to him, he lowered his wand." Potter stepped foreward again, now eye to eye with Shacklebolt. "He was not going to kill Dumbledore. He made futile attempts because he didn't really want to do it." Potter looked at Draco again, a look that got a glare in return. "I just know...he didn't want to do it."

Shacklebolt seemed to ponder something, and began to whisper to his collegues. Draco knew this was it. Soon, he would be shipped of to Azkaban, never to see his mother, or even the light of day ever again. The Minister of Magic frowned.

"This is not a discussion of whether or not Mr. Malfoy wanted to kill Dumbledore," Shacklebolt explained. "This is about Mr. Malfoy's intentions in the matter. Now Mr. Potter's and Professor McGonagall's testimonies says that Mr. Malfoy had no intention of murdering him, but my evidence says otherwise. I have two known accounts of Mr. Malfoy attempting to murder Dumbledore, but instead, someone else got hurt. The first is the cursed necklace that ended up in the hands of," Shacklebolt flipped through some pages, "Kathrine Amelia Bell. And another, involving poisoned mead, which almost killed," More flipping of pages, "Ronald Bilius Weasley. In fact, had the other parties in question agreed we would have several other charges to add."

Draco glowered at the floor, hoping to perhaps to eventually burn a hole in it so he could escape. It was over. They had too much evidence against him.

"In fact, Mr. Malfoy," Shacklebolt continued, speaking to the blond boy directly, "even without those charges, I still have plenty of evidence that says that you are nothing but an attention starved child that saw killing an old man as your only means to make a name for yourself." Draco opened his mouth to retort, but McGonagall nudged him. "I have every right to send you to Azkaban."

Draco's mother suddenly gave a great sob, covering her mouth and nose as she began to cry openly. McGonagall looked outraged and Potter took a stance, ready to protest. Draco, however, did not care. He had expected this, and decided that it was time to pay for his crime.

"However," Shacklebolt told Draco, "I am not going to do so." Draco looked up, stunned, as she heard his mother's breathing hitch. "These testimonies have moved the Wizengamot, especially since they come from two people that I know may not be very fond of you. You should be grateful to them." Draco snorted, knowing he didn't owe these people anything. In fact, he would never forgive them for this. "But, you do need to be punished, I think, so I think we have a compromise." He turned to the rest to the group and the deliberated quietly, and Draco wanted desperately to hear what they were saying. Shacklebolt turned back to Draco.

"You're sentence is," Shacklebolt began, "You are going to spend one year starting September twentieth, in the Muggle world. You will go to a Muggle school, learn Muggle customs, and basically live the life of a Muggle. You wand will be confiscated by the foster family that will take you in over there, so you are not allowed magic except in emergencies. Once the year is up, we will convene again and discuss your progress. Until we shall make your arrangments." He knocked his mallet twice. "Meeting ajorned."

Draco's jaw nearly hit the floor. McGonagall patted him on the shoulder as she left, seeming to heave a sigh of relief. Potter looked at Draco, who glared right back, before nodding to both Draco and Narcissa and walking out of the room. Draco was shocked and disgusted. What kind of ludicrus punishment was that?! A year with Muggles?! No magic?! This had to be a joke. Draco desperately wanted to find a calander to make sure it wasn't April first.

Draco suddenly found himself wishing for Azkaban.

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So that's the first chapter, definitely a little rocky but it gets better.

R&R please! But be gentle, this is my first time doing a story kinda like this.