CHAPTER 2: TRIAL EXCUSES AND ASSISTANT USES
Draco fixed his tie and patted down his suit, smoothing away any creases that may have formed on it. He pushed open the doors to the auditorium and walked in, taking a seat at the same place, as he had done every time he was called back to the court for the past 5 years. The same two guards that had flanked him for the past 5 years weren't there today; instead, they had been replaced by two older, burlier Aurors, who had their hands resting by their wands, ready for any sign of attack.
As Draco looked around, in fact, the only thing that seemed to have remained the same to this very day was the chair he was sitting on and the Wizengamot member that had been put in charge of his trial.
It didn't seem to Draco that this meant he was getting off on a clean slate. They probably brought in other witnesses and Aurors in case he had paid them off in order to escape a cell in Azkaban. However, if they were so cautious about that, Draco couldn't understand why they hadn't changed the judge. Unless they knew that his mind was already set on sending him away, or they bribed him to listen to the voices of the jury and go with the majority rather than his own mindset.
Draco couldn't believe that he didn't think of doing something like that himself.
"Mr Malfoy," his judge, Lord Jaxon Stewart, head of all the trials against the Death Eaters since they began gathering them in, started. So far, from what Draco had been reading up on, Jaxon had been fairly lenient with those accused; if he was sentenced, then it was mostly likely because of who he was. "At the beginning of this trial 5 years ago, you pleaded not guilty to the crimes that you are being charged against. Do you change your-"
"I am not guilty," Draco blurted, wanting the trial to be over and done with. If he was going home, he wanted to go home. If he was going to Azkaban, he wanted to be cast in irons already.
Well, maybe that wasn't entirely true.
"My apologies, Lord Stewart," he added after he saw that someone in the jury was about to scold him for his impoliteness.
Stewart decided not to respond and instead began to familiarise the court with his charges. As the list was being read, Draco thought about how he could save himself from the cold prison cells. He had a job to do, back in Wizarding London, and in a few years time The Boss would be retiring and would need to hand the reigns of Dragonhide Publishers over to someone trustworthy - someone who knew how the company worked, someone who has been employed for a reasonable amount of time. Unfortunately, that couldn't be him if he was locked away.
What most of his crimes had in common were prejudices against Muggle-borns, so clearly, he thought, if what Granger said to me is true, and that my job really doesn't serve to help me, then I need to find something that will.
Draco's thoughts lapsed into silence as he reflected back onto every article that he had read over the years, thinking about all the reasons he'd heard other Death Eaters were let off – or at least, the reasons that had allowed for a hearing and a further postponement on the trial.
Ah, he thought suddenly, sinking back into his chair in relief and covering his smirk as best as he could with his hand. That should work nicely.
Jaxon Stewart cleared his throat and shuffled some papers, throwing Draco back into reality. "Now, I believe that everyone here has seen the records and evidence both in defence and against the accused?" There was a murmur of assent as Draco heard more papers being shuffled and people shifting in their seats, knowing that the trial was just about to wrap things up. "Brilliant. Mr Malfoy, are there any final words you wish to say on the matter before you are sentenced?"
Draco remained silent and shook his head firmly. Now was not the time to throw in his defence; he didn't even know what the outcome was yet.
"I now ask the members of the Wizengamot today to decide the fate of Mr Draco Lucius Malfoy, aged 26 and Chief Editor at Dragonhide Publishers in London. All those in favour of sending Mr Malfoy to Azkaban prison for the next 6 years, raise your hands."
Draco looked around, a light in his eye and his teeth gritted in determination. His predicted outcome was becoming fact. He sat up straighter, going over the final details in his mind about how he was going to sway the Wizengamot and convince them that he deserved a second chance. 5 years of trials couldn't have gone to waste so quickly.
Lord Stewart smacked the gavel onto his desk, the sound resounding throughout the room. "Then it is settled," he said. Behind him, Draco could feel the Aurors striding towards his seat, ready to restrain him and throw him into one of the carriages heading to Azkaban. He tried not to shift in his seat or give away any idea that he was worried, any movement that could give them indication that he was lying. "Mr Draco Lucius Malfoy, you will be escorted to Azkaban prison by a team of Aurors tonight, which will signify the start of your 6 year sentence for crimes against Muggle-borns and aid to Lord Voldemort during the War. If there is any form of resistance during your journey, the Aurors are authorised to use force. During your time in Azkaban, you will be allowed to have visitors, however if there is any bad behaviour reported, then that privilege will be revoked. Only reports of good behaviour and the mutual agreement of the Wizengamot will be able to reduce your sentence. Mr Malfoy, do you understand your charges?"
Draco nodded, remaining impassive. He needed to wait until they asked if he agreed with the charges and then ask why he had any disagreements to them. If he delivered it convincingly enough, then they would have to make inquires and push back his transportation to prison.
"Then this trial is officially finished." With another smack of the gavel, the Aurors hands were suddenly on Draco's shoulders and pulling him out of his chair and restraining his arms as he jerked, panicking, in their grip. Everyone was leaving, and he hadn't had a chance to save himself. They were supposed to ask if I agreed!
"No! Wait!" Draco suddenly shouted, surprising himself with how much anxiety was in his voice. He cleared his throat as Lord Stewart tiredly called for Aurors, and the members of the court, to stop.
"The trial has ended, Mr Malfoy. You denied the opportunity for last words," Lord Stewart said firmly, dismissively. The Aurors were once again dragging him to his temporary home with increasing force every time he jerked.
With all his wiggling, he managed to break free for precious seconds and called to them that they'd all be in a lot of trouble with the Minister - maybe before he even arrived at Azkaban - if they ignored his plea.
That caught the attention of the witnesses - and the ever-important Jaxon.
The Aurors seized him by the shoulders and were about to drag him once more, but the lord held up a hand and they stopped. One hand remained on each of his shoulders, however, like a warning. Or a reminder. Draco wasn't sure which one he preferred.
"I disagree with the charges," he said loudly, looking at each person individually. "I am not guilty! I was forced into the Death Eaters through threats to my life and my family, and in the same period of time was - once again - forced into killing Albus Dumbledore and creating a gateway for Death Eaters to enter Hogwarts – all while underage. As Malfoy Manor was used as headquarters, I'm sure it wouldn't be necessary to impart the knowledge of how impossible it would've been even to consider escaping."
None of them seemed impressed by his speech, but at least they were all listening. He knew that he needed to say something important in order to catch their attention, or his fate wouldn't be changed. It had been 8 years since the War ended - all of what he was saying now was common knowledge; everyone had found out eventually.
"As for my behaviour against Muggle-borns: if working at Dragonhide Publishers isn't enough to show the jury that I am capable of working with Muggles, Muggle-borns – or half-bloods, then I urge you to look at the evidence of my relationship with Hermione Granger."
He internally smiled in triumph as he felt the room's atmosphere change and registered the looks of curiosity on their faces. Good. He was winning slowly.
"In all the defences you have called forward, Mr Malfoy, none of them have even been related towards Miss Granger, other than your employment of her as your assistant," one member said. Her lips were pursed as she looked down on him, and her face said it all: she did not believe him for one minute. "Why bring up any form of relationship up with her now? There is no evidence of it. Why should your relationship with Miss Granger change your sentence?"
"Isn't it obvious why my sentence should change? Hermione Granger is one of the most renowned Muggle-borns. This, as I've been trying to prove since the beginning, shows that I am not prejudiced any longer. My relationship with her has only been used as a part of my defence now because Hermione has only recently accepted my advances. We were not in any form of relationship since the last trial, over a year ago. There had been no need then, my interest in her since her hiring was my business alone. As for the lack of evidence, we'd rather not have trash written about our lives and relationship. We're being secretive."
"How convenient," Lord Jaxon said, taking a seat once again at his court desk, the others following suit. "How convenient, indeed, Mr Malfoy. However, we have a report against your case from Miss Marie Thomson that states that you would not give her a publishing deal, being a Muggle-born, unless she engaged in sexual activity with you. This report was filed at the beginning of last month - and, Mr Malfoy, this hasn't been the first of such claims to be made. If such claims are proven to be true, it strengthens accusations towards your Muggle and Muggle-born prejudices; and as such, it will highlight either your infidelity to Miss Granger or add another crime to your records for lying in court. Do you have anything to say against this?"
"Such claims are false," he said through gritted teeth. He hated that Granger was right about his past lovers coming back to ruin him after being used. She had long since suspected that none of them was as airheaded as they put across. Draco didn't care much, in any case; it only meant that he had to build up his already constructed lie. "I have been completely loyal to my girlfriend, since it began. I wouldn't be anything but loyal to the woman carrying my child."
Fuck, Draco thought as soon as the words left his mouth. How am I supposed to have her agree to being pregnant? Dating was one thing, but this...
"Oh ho, so she's with child now, is she?" Draco heard someone within the court call out. He looked around for the speaker, but was unable to spot them since he had set off several others to call him a liar.
His nails bit into his palms. He was truly fucked if no one believed him, yet he couldn't help but blame himself for not thinking about what he was going to say. She was "pregnant". Pregnant. Bloody hell, Draco, you could've chosen something relatively believable.
The judge called for silence.
Jaxon Stewart leaned forward on his desk and looked at Draco unflinchingly. Draco stared right back. "If Miss Granger is indeed with child – your child and heir, then Malfoy Manor rightfully belongs to you. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy have long since passed away and your childhood home has been left abandoned. There is no doubt in my mind that you know that Malfoy Manor is now yours, yet you don't live there. In fact, you and your supposed have separate apartments in opposite sides of London."
"Not to mention it'll be the first Malfoy bastard!" Another male voice called out.
"Bastard-born, yes," Jaxon said contemplatively. "What happened to your Malfoy honour? Is there not enough for you to make an honest woman of Miss Granger? Perhaps because you don't want a half-blood heir - or is it because marrying a Muggle-born would be considered disgraceful in itself?"
That, Draco thought bitterly, that is what I should've told them. That we were engaged. He cleared his throat. What was another lie on top of all this? Fuck it. "I was actually planning on proposing to her at a later date, when we've settled things more, before the baby is born. She's only a few weeks along - she only took the test last week - so I have plenty of time to propose. We're visiting her family this weekend to tell them the good news. I wouldn't disgrace my family with not having the common decency to marry the woman carrying my child – whatever its blood status." He wet his lips. "As for the Manor, we haven't had time to discuss it yet. You all know very well that she was tortured in one of the rooms by my aunt. She's still traumatised."
He blinked slowly and let out a breath he'd been holding in. He allowed a small feeling of satisfaction to swell within him. He'd managed to navigate that shipwreck relatively well.
And Hermione had thought that I'd been ignoring her requests for time off to go visit her Muggle family, or her mutterings of encouragement about having a break when she was stressed. Draco scoffed internally. It was the perfect alibi.
"What sort of things need to be settled? Having her agree to this blatant lie, perhaps? I can scarcely imagine that Hermione Granger would freely agree to everything you've said," a young woman of the Wizengamot said.
Jaxon shot her a look that said to ask no further questions.
"I deny these accusations, whatever they imply," he said through gritted teeth. The fucker was right. He wanted to scream. "The fact of the matter is that Hermione Granger is pregnant with my child."
"Yet there is no proof of it, is there Mr Malfoy?" Jaxon asked tiredly. "It's all so terribly convenient. We take your word for it – she's pregnant – we have to declare you not guilty by rights of the Law of Supporting Families. We deny your evidence – she's not pregnant – then there's the possibility that you are perhaps telling the truth, and we've broken one of our own laws and there's a public outrage. So how do we avoid that? We investigate your claim. However, that means we have to give Miss Granger – or the future Mrs Malfoy-" There were scoffs and snorts of laughter across the auditorium. "At least a month's preparation time and we postpone your trial further, which means you both – however unlikely it is – have adequate time to scheme against us and keep you out of Azkaban for good."
Draco gulped. He could feel sweat gathering on his forehead. Maybe he hadn't navigated the shipwreck well enough. "Lord Stewart-" Draco tried once more.
"Enough!" Lord Stewart yelled, smacking his gavel once more and shocking Draco into silence. "Roxton, Hugo, release Mr Malfoy." The Aurors took their commands and stepped away from Draco. "I have no doubt in my mind, Mr Malfoy that you've manipulated this entire court into setting you free – but I won't be so careless. Nevertheless, yes, because of your claims that Miss Granger is with child, we are prohibited to send you to Azkaban before the child is of the age to start a Wizarding school. An inquiry shall be sent out to gather information pertaining to your claims, and we ask, as soon as you return from your trip, that you and Miss Granger meet with Miss Rose Armstrong, Head Inquisitor, to answer questions about your relationship. If your relationship proves to be false, you will be convicted of lying to the court and another three years shall be added to your original sentence. No chances will be taken in the case of conspiring together; therefore, both your memories will be examined separately.
However, in the miraculous circumstance that this relationship proves to be true, you and your family will be left alone until the time your child is 11 years of age. Once that time has come, your case will be looked through once more."
He began to feel the swell of triumph. It had worked. Now all Draco had to do was begin to build up the lies he'd constructed, with the help of Granger, and create his own defence case. First, he had to inform his assistant of all that had happened and persuade her into helping him, and then convince her to allow him to accompany her on her visit to her parents.
It wouldn't be hard, he thought. Draco already knew what his leverage would be – it wasn't that hard to manipulate someone when they were so obvious and single-minded, despite how clever she was. Hermione Granger was still the same girl he had gone to school with.
He'd deal with the pregnancy claims later. Everything needed to be done in precise steps.
Draco picked himself up proudly and began walking out of the hall as soon as Jaxon said that he was free to leave, seconds before the gavel struck again.
After collecting the stack of work Draco had left out for her on his desk, Hermione was relieved to retire back to her apartment. The staff meeting that he had made her sit through was a complete bore and hardly anything was discussed, much to her dismay. Malfoy could've missed it completely without sending in her as his representative, and he'd still know the workings of the company.
She only hoped that his trial had been more successful. As of yet, she had received no notice from the Ministry that her boss was convicted of being a criminal, and no such word from the man himself.
She took the stairs to her apartment today, not completely exhausted from running after Draco the entire day. As she approached her door however, she felt that some of the wards that she had put up had been shifted. No one was ever usually in her apartment without her to allow them entrance.
Grabbing her wand, which was still tucked into the back of her skirt, she slowly opened the door.
When she saw who was inside she sighed. "Honestly, can't you ever tell me when you're going to show up at my home? I would like some warning," Hermione said, setting her keys and the stack of papers down on the coffee table. Her eyes quickly searched the living room and kitchen in front of her, finding nothing out of place. Her eyebrows furrowed. The wards recognised the two of them, there would've been no need for them to take them down.
"Surprise!" Ron yelled happily around a mouthful of leftover curry as he walked out of the kitchen to settle on the sofas.
"Oh come on, 'Mione. We wanted to surprise you and take you out for a celebratory dinner," Harry said as Hermione picked up a roll of tissues and threw it at Ron to clear up his mess. "You've been working for that bastard for three years now. Merlin knows how you've lasted that long."
"I get a good pay check out of it," Hermione said, smiling.
"So you're coming out this time, right?" Harry asked hopefully. He stood up and brushed his slacks, Ron following suit, thinking they already knew her answer.
"Of course, we haven't been out together in ages. I would love to but..." Her smile faded and she gestured toward the papers in front of them. "I can't. I've got all of this to do for tomorrow."
"That's fine," Harry said tightly, and for a moment, Hermione thought she would be lucky enough to be let off without any disagreements. He eyed the large stack wearily. "You can do it when we get back."
Hermione snorted without humour. "That'd be a well-needed miracle after the day I've had. I'm sorry, but I just can't."
They fixed her with their most disappointed looks. Hermione both felt guilty and angry.
"You need a break, Hermione. He's working you too hard," Ron argued. "You can't just do all his work for him!"
"He's very busy-" Hermione tried to argue. Which was true; he was busy not attending staff meetings, busy with women, busy with his trial and busy making her slave after him.
"Ron's right. You've got to quit - or, at least, threaten to," Harry urged. "Ask for time off, less paperwork! If you're really that important to the git, he'll do it."
All the while, Ron was eagerly nodding his head. "He's right, 'Mione. If you were doing all this work for me in the Auror department, I'd never let you go. I'd give you anything you want."
Hermione shook her head. This was her job, no matter how hard she had to work or how little time she had to herself. She wasn't about to go begging to Malfoy, and she certainly wasn't about to risk losing her job. Despite any changes to Malfoy's character she might have told them about, she knew what he would do and say to her before she even considered making demands. He'd laugh in her face, make some smug remark and fire her to further prove his point that she was a familiar face - but not necessary. If the boys thought he would do anything less, then they had obviously all but forgotten how he behaved when they were at Hogwarts.
She had made a promise to herself, and even if she worked herself to death, she would be dammed if he cracked her. "Not tonight," she said one final time.
"You're not his slave," Ron tried one more time as they left the apartment.
"I know," Hermione replied. She closed the door behind them, and groaned; she didn't want to be stuck indoors again, going through files.
Damn Malfoy, she thought. Damn him to Hell. Damn him, damn him, damn him...
"My, my Granger," a drawling voice came from behind her. Hermione gasped and spun around, recognising the voice immediately. She glared at her next intruder, her hand itching to find her wand and give him a well-deserved hex out of their workplace, which had a strict ban on offensive spells.
There, looking as impeccable in his suit as always, was a smirking, and highly amused, Draco Malfoy. He was idly leaning against the wall next to the staircase, a glass of red wine hanging loosely in his hands. If the glass and wine belonged to her, she wouldn't be surprised. "Your friends are stupider than I thought if they think I'd ever accept to be blackmailed like that."
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked harshly, blinking in disbelief. Her eyes narrowed as she jabbed an accusatory finger in his direction. "You took my wards down."
"Well of course I did. I doubt those two idiots would be able take down those sort of wards. And anyway," he added with some note of disappointment, "it seems they knew where you hid your key."
"Malfoy," she said. "What are you doing here?" She folded her arms and leaned against the door.
He grinned over the rim of his glass and took a slow sip of the wine. She rolled her eyes. "Me and you, Granger; we've got some things to discuss," he said, licking his reddened lips. "I want you to go into your bedroom right now and put the outfit on. I don't want to hear any disagreements tonight, pet."
Hermione sucked in a breath, her cheeks red, and prepared to tell him that he didn't control what she did, especially outside of work. Draco immediately tutted and shook his head, repeating that he was in no mood to quarrel over this. "But I didn't even say anything," Hermione spluttered. It was as if he knew. It was as if he always knew.
"Bloody hell, Granger; just go do it. It's not some kind of lingerie, I promise you that." He grinned wider as her blush deepened and he knew that he was right about her thoughts. "Tonight, we dine. I've got one hell of a story to tell you, that you'll be interested to hear."
Hermione immediately knew that this had something to do with his trial, and she wasn't sure whether the story he was planning to tell was a good one or a bad one. Since her hiring, they had never once eaten together or been seen together outside of work. There had never been a time where Draco had called her upon her for something quite like this and she was curious, yet weary, of his reasons.
"Depends," she said warily, eyeing him up and down. "How did your trial go? Will I be dining with a criminal?"
"Not yet, my lovely," he said quickly, taking another gulp of wine. "Not yet and not quite. That's something that needs to be...discussed." She still looked wary and unconvinced, and Draco was beginning to get irritated. He needed this to work. Needed it; he didn't want to go there. He didn't deserve it.
"Oh come on, Granger. If I was a criminal, do you think I'd be so stupid as to go out in public? Don't you think I'd be in Azkaban by now? Give some credit where it's due, pet," he said.
"That's true," she allowed, grudgingly. So his trial had gone well then, she thought happily. She wasn't going to have to find a new boss. She sighed tiredly and folded her arms. "But I don't know."
"You can have anything from the menu," he said exasperated. He downed the rest of his wine. "I'll pay for it all."
It sounded nice, she conceded, and Draco paying for whatever she wanted only sweetened the pot. She was saving for a new place to live, so even if she had no work to do, she wasn't sure how willing she would've been to spend money when out with Harry and Ron.
Still, she thought, her eyes drifting to the stack of papers again. It could be one of his attempts to make me late again.
Draco tiredly followed her eye, paranoid that he was going to be late to his reservations. "Oh that," he said dismissively. He waved it off, uncaring. "Don't worry about that, pet. I'll have someone else take care of that. Consider it thanks for being my assistant for three years. Happy now? Time is of the essence."
Hermione allowed herself a small, satisfactory smile as she walked past him and up the stairs. She tried not to walk faster as she passed him, his calculating eyes trailing over her body.
She only hoped that Harry and Ron didn't hear about this. They would feel betrayed.
Draco smirked as soon as she was no longer looking at her. Oh how he loved uncovering people's desires for his own benefit.
He refilled his glass while he waited for her to be ready. He drank his congratulatory wine slowly; oh, he had all the time in the world.
"Wine for the lady?" Draco heard the waitress ask Hermione as she was filling his glass.
He wasn't paying much attention to what else was going on around the restaurant, or what his date in front of him was doing. However, he managed to wave the waitress off and send her away for some water before Hermione was able to accept.
She was infuriated, to say the least. "Last time I checked, I was allowed to have a glass of wine, if I wanted," she sneered as she perused her menu.
"You need a clear head, lovely. We have important matters to discuss, remember?" He murmured, not looking up from his own menu.
"Oh yes, like the verdict of your trial," she fired back. "Anyway, what about you? Don't you need a clear head to relay your deal to me?"
Draco blinked and looked up from his menu. Slowly, he grinned. "Oh, so you've worked it out then? It took longer than I expected from you, I must admit. I like to think I hired you for your quick wit, but perhaps not..." He said aloofly. Smugly, he took a sip from his own glass. "All the more reason for you to stay away from the wine, then."
Hermione gritted her teeth. She set down her menu and tried to keep her voice down so as not to cause a scene. "Well, I thought that this is all clearly too much for a discussion," she retorted. "And don't you think you've had enough wine? You finished a whole bottle of Merlin's Finest before we even left the apartment."
He laughed quietly. "I can hold my liquor, Granger," he said. "But yes, you are right. This is a deal of sorts." He raised an eyebrow. "Anything else you've observed?"
Hermione decided that if she didn't lay all her cards on the table now, she'd only end up being tricked by him later, after hours of tiptoeing around the real problem. She'd seen him do this to clients thousands of times. "This is a deal about your trial, obviously. I don't know why or what you want from me – I know you'll tell me sooner or later tonight – but this has stemmed from your trial."
He hummed, looking impressed as he picked up his glass once more. He looked to his left discreetly, Hermione following suit, and said in a husky voice as the waitress returned with Hermione's water, "I like the way you think, darling."
Hermione only rolled her eyes and scoffed as she accepted the proffered drink. As she sipped the water, still furious with Draco for forbidding her from having any alcoholic drink, her stomach dropped. She clutched the glass tightly. Hermione raised her eyes to look at him and nervously wet her lips.
Draco, still acting as someone out on a date (which, much to Hermione's ire, he had strongly recommended she do – she had thought it was stupid and pointless at the time), relayed their orders to the waitress and patiently waited for her to leave.
Hermione impatiently waited for the waitress to leave. When she finally did, she said lowly, "I know what you did." It was hard to keep her voice quiet, but the amount of fury within it immediately gained his attention, which had previously been stuck on another waitress nearby.
Draco blinked. The smile dropped off his face and he blinked again. "What?" He said, paling. He had thought he'd had the upper hand in this, knowing more than she did and being able to twist it however he needed to or wanted. He held his own glass so tightly he was afraid that it'd break.
"I know what you did. At your trial." He had never seen her so angry. There wasn't anything even remotely scary about Granger, in those three years that she had worked for him – and even before that when they were at school – apart from her ire. She vaguely resembled a Fury herself when she was angry, and Draco would've looked into her heritage a bit more in the off chance that she was distantly related to one but he knew – as everyone in the world did – that she was Muggle-born with no magical descendants.
He picked up his glass again and swirled the liquid around in the glass contemplatively, as if it was a particularly interesting distraction.
"I was right this morning back at the office; it wasn't enough. And you...you had run out of evidence, clearly, to keep you out of Azkaban so you decided to introduce me."
"Now, now, Granger," he said uneasily. He looked around at the people dining around him in case they heard anything. He knew the paparazzi were usually around this place (which was why he had specially brought Hermione a new dress to wear out), and that they would be circling him since it was publicly known that today was the end of his trial, but he'd be dammed if he failed in his mission before he even started. "Why don't we skip this dinner, go back to my place and discuss this like – business partners?"
"What. Did. You. Do," she pressed though gritted teeth. "Did you say that we were dating, is that it? It is, isn't it? That's why you brought us to this fancy place, and told me to behave as a couple would, and was going to pay for the whole thing."
A pause then, "Yes."
There's more. She fidgeted. How much worse could this get? "What else did you tell them?"
"Look, Hermione-"
"What else? Explain, Malfoy. Now."
He leaned forward on the table, careful about knocking anything and attracting attention towards them. His whole mission was over. "I thought by telling them that you were my girlfriend would be enough to change the jury's minds but...you were also right about my lovers coming back to ruin me. And whatever you have to say about this will probably also be right," he whispered irately.
She didn't say anything, but she gave him a look as if to "say get to the point".
He huffed. "You won't say anything more until I tell you out rightly? Fine." He set his glass down on the table, and casually reclined back in his seat. Draco caught her eye."I told them you were pregnant,"he said without preamble. "It was the only way."
Her hand flew to her mouth as she breathed in sharply and blinked in surprised. Her anger flared even more. "Do I look pregnant to you? What the fuck were you thinking?"
That was the first time that Draco had ever heard her swear. That's how he knew it was bad. "I was thinking that I did not – do not – deserve to go to Azkaban. Look, I just – I need you to help me, Hermione. I made these claims in court – in front of a jury, a judge, and witnesses – and so they have to investigate them, and therefore have postponed my trial. If they discover that I was lying-"
It was the first time she had ever heard Draco call her by her first name, but that wasn't about to change anything. "You should have thought of that before you lied in court. How could you think that I would ever agree to help you commit crimes? This is illegal, Malfoy!"
He said, "Everything is legal, my dear, as long as you don't get caught." His eyes were suddenly glittering with excitement. "You're clever, Granger. We both are, let's face it. The question is: do you really think that we have a large chance of being caught?"
Did she? It wasn't a hard question. Hermione looked around. Her eyes came back to rest on him, looking at her appraisingly and waiting for his answer. He was always waiting for an answer; not just any answer, but one that he wanted, needed.
"No," she said grudgingly. "But I don't want any part of your schemes. Whatever it is that you're planning to do – it's not going to work."
"Oh, isn't it?" He said. Hermione had heard this tone of voice before quite often when it came to tricky customers; she liked to call it The Man With A Dream. She promised herself that she wasn't going to be convinced by it. "Think about it, Hermione. We have an entire month from today to plan what we could do when we have to meet the Head Inquisitor to solidify my claims. A month. An entire month to do public things, like more dinners or going on days out shopping – or whatever. As long as we're together and we look like a couple."
"Malfoy, in a month I could possibly be showing my supposed pregnancy. Have you thought about that?"
He shifted in his seat now, and looked vaguely uncomfortable. Whatever he was going to say, Hermione could tell that he had both thought about it and didn't really want to have considered it as an option. "We could...I mean," he started uneasily. "The pregnancy - pregnancies don't always last. Something could...happen."
"Are you suggesting that within this month, I - why would I even want to abort "our" baby, anyway? Have you seriously thought any of this through? Can you hear yourself? There would be no way; we would have ever been able to do this with your plans."
"I'm not saying abortion, stupid. You're right - if you did that, you would have no motive to have aborted it. No, I meant..." He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "You could have a miscarriage."
"I'm still not agreeing to this Malfoy, it's only going to crash and burn. Quickly." She turned it over in her mind. "The miscarriage? That's mighty convenient, much like our sudden relationship. And how long after we announced it, am I going to have it? Will I be taken to St Mungos? That'll be one way to guarantee publicity. But..."
"You're not actually pregnant," Draco finished glumly. "So there's no way to publicly stage it. Unless, we make a statement."
"Exactly. Nevertheless, the Head Inquisitor - how is she going to prove the reliability of your claims?"
"Occlumency, I would think," he said. He sighed. "But we'd have no memories to prove it. Though, I was also given a pack of questions about each other, that we'd need to learn.
"You're catching on fast," she said sarcastically. "So you see, even if this wasn't illegal, I wouldn't sign my name to this plan."
Draco suddenly got a new light in his eyes. "Yet...during the month that we have...I'm not saying you have to have sex with me personally, Hermione, but what if we used Polyjuice? It can be anyone of your choice, obviously - and you can be drunk, if you need to be. And... I'll do the same."
"You've got to be fucking kidding me. Do you know how long it takes to brew Polyjuice? Your whole precious month! And do you really believe that we'd be able to drug someone with Polyjuice without any Ministry officials knowing? Or the people themselves knowing? Everyone knows about Polyjuice."
"Ah, but Granger, what if I said that I have several vials of it at home, ready to use? And here's the trick of the century, doll: we use Muggles. They won't have a clue."
"Oh? And where are you going to find a large choice of Muggles, away from the Ministry's eye, to drug, huh?"
Shockingly – or she supposed, not so shockingly after everything she had heard that evening – he looked sheepish. "I'm coming with you to visit your family."
"What?" She asked deathly quiet. Draco would have preferred her to shriek at him instead.
"You think I want this? That I would willingly want to go on holiday with you to meet your family?" He retorted snidely. "No. I'm doing this so that I don't have to go on a long-term holiday to Azkaban, if you've forgotten already."
"I thought we clarified that I want no part in this crime! You are not coming with me!"
"If you don't want to help me get away with this "crime", then why are we still discussing all the plot-holes?" He growled.
She scowled and opened her mouth to reply, but he quickly cut her off.
"I'll fucking tell you why, Granger. Because you know that if you don't you'll no longer have an employer. Which means that you'll have to find a new job that you can progress in; one that you both like and want. Well guess-fucking-what, pet? We wouldn't be here right now if you had found one that ticked all those boxes three years ago, now would we? And chances are you still can't, otherwise you would have left my employment by now. Moreover, if this has been about the money the entire time, you also know that should I be taken in, your pay check for this month will cease existing."
He took in a deep breath and looked challengingly in her hazel eyes, knowing that he already had her. He had had her from the moment she realised that he had been convicted, no matter what she said. Fear over illegality? Draco scoffed. Her whole life at Hogwarts had been based on illegality.
"So here's what's going to happen: you are going to explicitly tell me that you are agreeing to this – no more "law abider" bullshit. Then, we are going to discuss this further over the rest of the evening, before going back to my own apartment. You can Apparate back to your own home later, to pack your suitcase or whatever, but then you will come back to mine so we can be seen leaving together. While at your family's place, we will act the part of an in-love couple, and we will tell them that you are pregnant. We will give Muggles Polyjuice potion, and create some more...heated memories. After...however long you're planning to stay there for, we will start making our public appearances in Wizarding London. Sometime during all that – I don't know when exactly – we'll work out how to get around the pregnancy problem, don't you worry. Now, I haven't forgotten about the money. The day before my trial, I will give you 6 months worth of pay – in person – whether I am imprisoned or I am not. It'll be yours."
"Is that it?" She asked dryly, but they both knew what she was ultimately going to say.
"Well, there are some other technicalities such as moving into the Manor together – though, that doesn't actually have to happen. And then, after the trial, you can end it whenever you want – but not straight away," he commented lightly in return. "But yes, that is it. Are you ready to agree now?"
"What happens...What happens if you win this trial, however unlikely it is?"
He slowly reached for his glass of wine and swirled it around. "You want something more," he stated. "You want a reward for your help."
She nodded once. "For my troubles," she corrected.
"Name it." He paused and thought for a moment. "Is it your manuscript published, is that it?"
"You promised that when you hired me," Hermione pointed out, but Draco had already sensed that this was going to be it and he couldn't say that it was a bad choice.
"Ah," he said, wagging his finger at her. "But I didn't need to then; you were already in my grasp." He paused and pretended to mull the request over, as if Hermione hadn't seen him do that before. "So, you just want it published, yes? Is that it?"
"200,000 starting copies, like you promised."
"Of course. Done?"
"I also want you to organise for it to be advertised, as well as you do when it's one of your...more personal clients."
"I'll do it even better; you will be my girlfriend, after all." He grinned widely. "So, deal? That's it then, right?"
"Yes," Hermione said slowly. She tried to remember if there was anything else that she needed before the window closed. "I'll...help you in this, just this once. I'm not going to help you commit any more crimes in the future."
"Excellent!" He lifted his glass up for a toast, and Hermione grudgingly did the same. "To our future, darling, whatever may come out of it." Their glasses clinked and they took sips of their respective drinks. Suddenly feeling extraordinarily happy over what had happened, Draco held out his glass of wine to Hermione and let her drain what was left. "You may be pregnant, but I suppose a little alcohol won't do much harm. This is a celebration!"
She smiled slightly around the rim of the glass. The wine warmed her stomach and it felt much more like a celebration than it had. Hermione hummed her agreement.
"Did I tell you that you can keep the dress, by the way? You look absolutely ravishing in it, pet," he said, taking the empty glass away from her and trailing his eyes over her body, admiring his work. "I made a fantastic choice with it. Gryffindor red."
A/N - God, it's taken me so long but I absolutely love, love, love writing this story. Review, follow and favourite please!