A/N: I think this may be my first published HP fic! So, in short, it's a series of short passages that are from different points of view (mainly Harry's and Draco's) on the same day. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Intellectual property of JKR, yadda yadda yadda.
Harry Potter, flanked by his two best friends and fellow war heroes, made his way into the very courtroom where he himself had been tried years earlier. All three were resplendently dressed in their best robes- one might have thought that they were attending yet another fine party in their honor, were it not for their surroundings.
They looked fairly rushed and out of breath. As they began to sit, Ron Weasley muttered, "Thank Merlin we made it-"
"Please rise, the Minister of Magic is entering the courtroom!"
In spite of their obvious discomfort, the three stood back up and smiled as the Minister majestically swept down the stone steps; as he murmured something to his undersecretary, the people in the courtroom sat down once more. He turned to face the Wizengamot.
"Greetings, witches and wizards of the Wizengamot-" most of the people seated nodded their heads in reciprocal greeting- "fellow Ministry employees-" Percy Weasley glanced up appreciatively from his papers- "and distinguished witnesses and guests." This was the inevitable point at which almost all eyes turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and Harry loathed it. He screwed his eyes shut as Kingsley's authoritarian voice resonated throughout the room.
"On this, the sixth day of July in the year 1998, we conclude the criminal trial of Draco Malfoy..."
In a way, it was unnerving to see Malfoy dragged into the courtroom by two menacing-looking wizards. Harry was vaguely reminded of old Muggle crime shows, when the suspect was brought in bound and shackled. But this was the Ministry of Magic- they didn't need shackles to know that Malfoy was a prisoner. Perhaps the chains were merely symbolic. Perhaps Harry was so stunned because he had never thought to imagine a world where Malfoy actually got his comeuppance; much like the thought of a world without Voldemort, without the constant threat of death, it was a concept that Harry had previously dismissed as idle fantasy.
To this point, Malfoy had never looked at Harry deliberately. Granted, Harry wasn't complaining- he didn't like looking at the bastard's face either- but it was odd nevertheless. As Kingsley said, "We await the testimony of only one further witness- Hermione Jean Granger," Malfoy finally gazed upward. His eyes swept the courtroom, slowly coming to rest on Hermione.
Ron visibly tensed. Harry hoped he wouldn't have to stop him from jinxing Malfoy into oblivion.
"What is the nature of your feelings toward Mr. Malfoy?"
"I don't like him." She paused. "I never have. He was prejudiced against me because I'm Muggle-born; he treated me terribly in school. Anybody who wasn't a pureblood Slytherin was beneath him."
"When was your first altercation with Mr. Malfoy, physical or otherwise?"
Draco's head was in his hands. This was not going to go well, he could tell.
"Miss Granger, do you believe that Draco Malfoy should be acquitted of the crimes with which he has been charged?"
There was a pause that filled the courtroom. The wizards and witches of the Wizengamot sat tensely, awaiting the young woman's response. Draco stared at the earthen floor below him, hiding his anxiety well; he did not see Hermione Granger look at him, did not see her unyielding gaze of anger and hurt. He tried not to think of what she might say; his thoughts were preoccupied with what he had endured to get to this point. Draco had practically guzzled Veritaserum, surrendered his wand for a battery of spells, been present for every testimony (Weasley's was particularly vitriolic; Potter's, almost ambivalent), seen his name and his reputation dragged to the forefront of the Prophet on a daily basis, and, in short, endured hell.
But Granger had something to speak of that neither Potter nor Weasley could. She had been one of the primary targets of the old regime, making her testimony much more valuable than it already was. Granted, Draco knew that the favorable testimonies of a thousand Mudbloods couldn't outweigh Potter's… but still. And this was no question relating to evidence- it was only her opinion, which theoretically should have had no bearing on the Wizengamot's ruling- but Draco couldn't help but feel like he lived or died at her word. He waited, motionless. She breathed.
"Yes, I do."
It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had stepped off the stand, deliberately avoiding his gaze. The witches and wizards of the Wizengamot were muttering among themselves. As Minister Shacklebolt raised a hand, the whispering ceased.
"Those in favor of sentencing Draco Malfoy to imprisonment for life in Azkaban for the charges of conspiracy, treason, and murder…"
The Minister himself loosed the shackles around Draco's wrists, and undid the Anti-Disapparation Jinx that had been placed on him months earlier. But he didn't feel free yet.
One of the clerks handed him his hawthorn wand. Draco was glad to have it again, and not solely for the power that came with it- being without a wand was eerily like being without a third hand that he never knew he had. It felt right to hold the smooth wood again.
He felt like a wizard again.
His heels clicked on the polished marble as he entered the Atrium with its lifts and its great white statues and its accusatory stares. Some members of the Wizengamot had followed him out of the lift, clearly saving their murmurs for as soon as he was out of earshot.
Across the hall, Draco saw them- huddled together, laughing at a joke Weasley had said, probably to break the tension.
Potter's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of him. Weasley's face contorted with fury, Granger's pink mouth turned down in pity. What puzzled Draco, though, was the tightening feeling in his chest as he saw the glittering band on her finger- it was something akin to downheartedness. And he didn't know why he felt it.
But as he stepped out into a world of sun and freedom and no Dark Lord to serve, all thoughts of Hermione Granger and the ring on her hand left him. He was a man building himself from less than nothing- from the ashes of his destroyed reputation and his family's ruin. He was not so crude as to compare himself to a phoenix, but he would rebuild himself from what he had been. Because he had no other option.
It was a funny thing, freedom.
"Incredible. Incredible. They find him guilty, but they decide based on the evidence that he's truly remorseful, and they let him off?" Harry asked. His voice held no trace of anger, only wonder.
"Well, Harry, this isn't like Muggle trials. They actually had ways of determining what he was really thinking and feeling. Nobody can outwit Veritaserum, you know." A pause. "And they didn't really let him off- he didn't end up in Azkaban, that's true, but Gringotts has seized all of his assets. He'll be under house arrest for three years, and after that, he'll have to work to pay reparations to the families of the people he tortured or killed. And he has to live with knowing what he did."
What d'you reckon's gonna happen to him?" Harry said as Malfoy strode from the Atrium.
"Dunno," said Ron. "All I know is, we don't ever have to see the slimy git again. Let's go."
They began to walk toward the line of marble fireplaces, Harry trailing behind. "D'you know what I keep thinking about, though?"
Hermione handed him some Floo powder, taking care not to spill any. "What?"
"Well- I was just thinking about this, 'cause they asked you when you testified- he knew it was us, back at Malfoy Manor. And he didn't tell. Not Bellatrix or Voldemort or anyone. I hadn't thought about that when we were there…" He paused and shrugged. "Maybe at Hogwarts, they Sort too soon, I guess."
"Why would you say that?"
"I dunno, it's something Dumbledore told me once."
A/N: Hope you enjoyed. =) As for my own thoughts, I think Draco's a true Slytherin through and through- resourceful, ambitious, cunning. But I also think that Harry would certainly remember Dumbledore's words to Snape and apply it to Draco.