C'est La Vie
By Kitsune Yarisha
A/N: The War is finally over and it seems that a time of peace has been reached in the Wizarding World. Wizards and Muggles alike are rejoicing around the world but for two people, the war has left scars that have not yet healed. H/D
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters, potions, spells, or any other facet of the series mentioned in this fan work nor do I make a profit from it. The entire franchise belongs, with respect, to one Mrs. J.K. Rowling along with several toy, film, and etcetera companies that are noted and dully mentioned.
Chapter Two: Debt
"Small debts are like small shot; they are rattling on every side, and can scarcely be escaped without a wound; great debts are like cannon, of loud but little danger." – Samuel Johnson
"I am not a number, I am a free man!" – Patrick McGoowan
--
Harry really hadn't liked the look Hermione had given him when he had finished speaking, not at all.
The woman opposite of him rubbed at her sleep heavy eyelids muttered something and flicked her wand.
1:07 A.M.
She sighed and stood. "Harry…" she let the pause be drawn out into a tense silence. "I'll leave this to you. Obviously, you seem to think you know what you're doing. I don't like it, trusting Malfoy like this, but I'll put up with it until he does something to mess things up."
"That's all I ask, 'Mione. That's all I need."
They had talked for hours about the new situation, about Harry's plans to help Draco, and about everything and anything that was recently upsetting Hermione. At the moment, Hermione's only outlet for her emotional distress was Harry since she had yet to bring her parents back to London and no one else was in Grimmauld with them.
Hermione walked to him for a goodnight hug before turning and reaching the door, quickly. She needed some rest and some time to herself, Harry knew. She smiled and mumbled as she walked out, "I should still be here from a few more weeks. At least until Malfoy gets settled in. I think I'll try and strike up a civil relationship with him. Wouldn't that be nice?"
A single heartbeat later, Harry Potter was alone.
His room wasn't anything special. It was on the second floor, next to Sirius's old one and the fourth guest room. He had a fireplace for fire calls and flooing but it was the only major accessory of the room aside from the adjoining, grand bathroom. The floor had been hand washed, by Harry himself, and polished by magic so the wood shone with new life. His bed was a cherry wood, king sized with a long draping forest green canopy and could easily allow three bed occupants with enough room for each to kick and move around in.
In contrast, the bathroom was the sole reason he had chosen and moved to the room. It was gorgeous, huge, and lavishly done. It held a stone tiled floor, a spa-bath, a glass encased shower, Jacuzzi, steel-clawed tub, and a marble countered sink that oozed the words 'higher standard'. The W.C. and bathroom necessities storage were all located in a separate room, branching off from the main bathroom.
A nice long hot shower would be adored right now, but for the moment, Harry also needed to rest.
After all, in a week he would need to make a grand reemergence at the Ministry of Magic.
--
The Ministry hadn't changed much, either, since Harry had last been there.
Harry filed into the courtroom with only a handful of other spectators. It seemed that Harry was the only one who wasn't winded from the long climb downward on the stairs to the courtroom. Then again, everyone else attending could easily pass as his grandfather or mother.
Kingsley Shacklebolt, a tall and bald man of African descent, sat high in his seat among the Wizengamot. He fiddled with his large, gold hoop earring when he spotted Harry settling into a seat and caught his emerald eyes.
Harry nodded to the current and permanent Minister for Magic. If Kingsley was anything to go by, the court trial wasn't going to go as Harry's did so long ago.
As the spectators and Wizengamot took their seats and settled down, the black oak doors at the main entrance to the courts swung open harshly, slamming into the walls unchecked. Two Aurors escorted a disheveled Draco Malfoy into the court room rather harshly by his arms.
Harry thought the bloke on the right looked a lot like Gawain Robards, the current head of the Auror Office.
"There is no need to manhandle our guest, Auror Weasley," Kingsley intoned in a deep, calming voice.
Ronald Bilius Weasley glared at the man who looked to him expectantly. He jerked his hand away as if it burned and pushed Draco forward roughly by his shoulders. He and the other Auror left the courtroom without as much as a word.
Harry rolled his eyes at the display. Ron wouldn't ever grow up when it came to a Malfoy.
Draco scowled at Ron before moving ahead to take his seat in the only chair on the court floor. The tall man took a minute to collect himself, tidying up his ruffled clothes and smoothing his hair smartly. He looked defiant when his gaze came up to meet Kingsley.
"Draco Lucius Malfoy, do you know the reason you have been brought forth to court this day?" One of the fifty men asked from behind Kingsley.
Draco sneered and titled his head up. "I am suspect of being a Death Eater beneath former Dark Wizard Voldemort, or Tom Marvolo Riddle, and conspiring against the Ministry of Magic and Harry Potter."
The Wizengamot flinched at the name before regaining their composure. "Indeed. Is it true or not that it was you who made it possible for Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore to die at the hands of Death Eaters before you went on the run with one of your teachers?"
The blond seemed to swallow a lump in his throat when the man indirectly mentioned Snape. "Yes," he croaked, probably trying to get a hold of himself.
The Wizengamot murmured amongst themselves for a short moment. "Is it true that you confronted Harry James Potter with the intent to bring him to You-Know-Who during the Final Battle?"
"…Yes."
Gasps trickled out from the crowd, making Draco flinch and turn his head toward the ground.
"I see. Is it true that you received and currently display the Dark Mark upon the skin of your inner left forearm?"
There was a harsh silence as Draco pulled back the sleeve of his elegant wizard robes.
He stuck out his arm and glared at the inquirer. "No," he said firmly.
There were whispers of doubt among the spectators, none of which came from Harry, as one of the Wizengamot came down to check if charms had been placed over the Dark Mark to hide it. After it was confirmed that no Dark Mark was on Draco Malfoy, everyone took their respective seats again.
"Fortunately, there is no Dark Mark. This means that all major charges of you working under Voldemort will be dropped. However, you have confessed to conspiracy, a hand in a murder, and attempt at another's life. For these charges, unless anyone convince the Wizengamot otherwise, you will be confined in Azkaban for the next seventy-five years. Any objections?"
None of the Wizengamot rose in favor of Draco's innocence and now it seemed that it was time for Harry to take a stand.
"I'm sorry, Minister and fellows, I seem to object just a little," he said in a light tone as he stepped from the stands and ventured down onto the court floor where Draco was. He waved off the charm he had cast on himself this morning that changed his hair color and length to conceal his scar. It proved effective, even if Kingsley and a few of the Wizengamot could see through it.
Draco glared up at him from his seat, restraining himself from getting up and apparently screaming at Harry for his interference.
The same man that had been questioning Draco looked to Harry expectantly.
Harry smiled charmingly at him and said smoothly, "I think it would prove wise to ask Malfoy of his reasons for wanting to present me to the Dark Lord and why he helped in the defeat of Dumbledore. Additionally, it may prove prudent to ask of his and his parents' whereabouts during the last few moments of the Final Battle."
"Very well," the man said, running a hand over his plum-colored robes in a nervous fit. "Draco Malfoy, what were your reasons for helping known Death Eaters defeat Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts?"
After a deep breath and a quick glance at Harry, Draco muttered, "My family and I were being threatened by Voldemort that if I should not succeed in killing Dumbledore during my stay at Hogwarts that we would be tortured or killed as He saw fit."
"Was this also the reason for your want to present Harry Potter to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"
"Yes, although I felt I should prove myself as well. I wanted to show I wasn't a weak innocent like someone once told me that I was."
"Where were you during the last moments of the Final Battle?"
"I was trying to find Potter and trying to find my parents. I didn't get far before I heard my parents calling after me. Of course, time seemed to stop before they reached me and all we could do was watch as the savior finally defeated Voldemort. After it was over, my father and mother proceeded to come over to me and check my person for injuries. I was fine, of course, since Potter saved me twice and my self-preservation kicked in. I was no longer interested in the Final Battle after a Death Eater tried to kill me and I saw one of my…friends die." Draco paused and took a deep breath. "After that, everyone just kind of hung out in the Great Hall."
The inquirer paused for a brief moment before turning to Harry. His gaze was steady and there was no tremble to betray the calm he showed before the savior at the fact that he was losing his case against the son of a prominent Death Eater. "Do you, Harry James Potter, before Wizengamot testify for the innocence of Draco Lucius Malfoy under Merlin's Oath?"
"Under Merlin's Oath, I do testify for his innocence," Harry said with a quick smile before taking a step back and crossing his arms over his chest, waiting.
"Very well. All of those in favor of Master Malfoy's innocence please raise your hands."
There was a brief pause as all eyes of the Wizengamot focused on Draco and scrutinized before slowly, ever so slowly, one by one every man covered in plum raised a hand.
Harry glanced to Draco, who was staring hard at them with a slightly awed expression on his features. The brunette smirked and turned his gaze back to Kingsley as he stood and raised his hands for silence as the crowd stirred, voicing their approval or disapproval.
"It would seem that all charges have been dropped from you, Master Malfoy. Unless anyone convince the Wizengamot otherwise, you shall be set free with no mark on your record other than that Master Potter has testified for you," Kingsley murmured, his voice carrying easily in the stillness of the room.
Draco nodded, standing from the chair shakily.
Harry frowned. Did the prat really think he was going to watch him get sent off to Azkaban after he had stopped his two friends from attacking him during the Final Battle or after he did not tell the Death Eaters that he had been Harry and that his friends were the famous Hermione and Ron of the golden trio? He owed Draco as much as Draco owed him. Besides, he couldn't really give Draco his wand back if Draco was sitting in a jail cell now could he?
"However, Master Malfoy, you're father has been charged and convicted of many crimes earlier this week. Therefore, another search of your manor will be initiated for the Wizarding Worlds safety. As the new Master of the Malfoy lineage, do you object to this?" The sparkle in Kingsley's eye gave Harry the distinct impression of Dumbledore and how he always knew an answer before he got one.
"I do not object. In fact, if I could ask it of your search team, could you destroy the Manor when you are done? I intend to rebuild it and rid myself of everything that still lingers with…You-Know-Who's slime," Draco finished awkwardly, sniffing delicately when he had to mimic the distaste everyone else still harbored for saying Voldemort's name.
Kingsley didn't miss a beat as he raised a hand in acknowledgement of Draco's request, scribbling it on a space bit of parchment by his right hand. "I declare the case of Draco Malfoy officially closed. You are all dismissed."
Everyone left the courtroom at once and Draco was in the middle of it all, swept off by the tides of insults or genuine curiosity.
Harry watched all this for a moment with something akin to fondness stirring in his stomach. He turned and waved a goodbye to Kingsley who was gathering up his papers and shaking hands with the other men but caught the gesture nonetheless.
The Minister smiled kindly and inclined his head in Harry's direction before returning to his fellows.
With a matching smile, Harry left the court and prepared for the long climb of steps ahead with all its twist and turns.
Of course, who was he to know how symbolic his climb would be?
To Be Continued.
A/N: Ah, this chapter didn't want to be written at all. I had to look up various things about the Ministry's court system which there weren't many references to, since we didn't really get to see it much but I got enough information to throw into my creative process and make up the rest. Draco has no fear of Voldemort's name anymore, obviously, but I'm thinking that many of the Wizarding World do because they still have that lingering thought in the back of their heads that maybe Voldemort could still come back (don't worry, he won't).
A lot of Harry Potter stories I read are very dynamic and have interesting metaphors and as I wrote the bit about Harry preparing to climb the stairs I just got a cool idea. Kudos to you in you know what I am referring to. Harry feels the need to help Malfoy because he has this part of his character (or at least the way I picture him) that tries to see the good in people now that his whole world has been turned over (e.i. Snape) so if you were confused as to why he is helping Malfoy I hope that explains it a bit.
I think it's kind of funny that the time I finished writing this is the same time in the story when Hermione checks the time. I just now noticed that, haha.