AN* Here is chapter 2, Astoria will soon be arriving into the story for those of you who are waiting for her, no worries. Things aren't exactly looking up for poor Draco :(

Thanks again to my beta reader rainbowspring, I'm glad you liked chapter one so much, i've had this idea for a long time but i've just needed time to figure out the right words. I'm happy it turned out. Poor Draco :,( i hate doing this to him, as for the Draco Astoria Non-con stories i have never read any but i have seen them about, i honestly can't believe it. I think Draco's much better then that, and Astoria is too smart to allow such things to happen, or continue if they have happened.

disclaimer- please refer to chapter 1

a hard pill to swallow

Chapter 2

"Draco, what is this about?" My mother doesn't have to yell for me to know that I am in trouble, however it is one of those times where you're so certain you haven't done anything that you're more confused than anything.

"Would you care to explain to me how it is you were charged with assaulting a Mr. Joseph Turpin." I should have been worried.

"What?"

"Well, did you hit him?" My mother demands, in the sort of tone that suggests it's not a question, but a statement; that we both already know the answer.

"Yeah, but-" She's thrown her arms up into the air in exasperation.

"Jesus Christ Draco! What the hell did you think you were doing?" Once again she seemed to know what I thought I was doing.

"He attacked me, I'm the victim-"

"Then why is it that he's the one with the case!" The letter is waved about frantically. I can tell she at least wants to believe me.

"What does it mean?" She traces my gaze to the letter.

"I have to go write to our lawyer." The fact that she avoided answering means that she either doesn't know, or that's it isn't good. I'm opting for the former.

There is something terribly exciting about listening to conversations through walls. However when you are concerned, your breath manages to become trapped in your throat, and not in an anticipated way, but in an uncomfortable, tight sort of way.

"-I can get him a better sentence."

"But can you keep it off his record?"

"As long as he's being charged it's on his record Mrs. Malfoy, there isn't anything to be done for it."

"And what about his case!"

"What case-"

"Well what about his side of the story, if the attack was justified."

"Your husband doesn't want this going to court Mrs. Malfoy."

"Well it isn't my husband's case now is it."

Entering a court room feels a lot like church. You feel as though you're not allowed to talk, and that your constantly being watched, and your actions are being weighted.

I decided a long time ago that the only way I could be a lawyer was if I honestly hated myself; that's how much I hate lawyers.

"Did you hit Joseph Turpin on the head with an ash tray?"

"Yes-"

"Does that not fall under the definition of assault?"

"I'm assuming it does seeing as you're so confident about it."

"Then how can you argue that you are not guilty."

"I never said I didn't hit him, I'm saying I shouldn't get into trouble for it."

"So you think you're above the law."

"I think my crime falls under the description of self-defense."

"Mr. Malfoy, would you care to describe the nature of the attack."

"Excuse me?"

"You say you were attacked, why? Why would Mr. Turpin attack you?"

"What reason do I have to attack him?"

"You tell me." What was I supposed to say, the truth. I knew I should, but I couldn't help myself from looking into the crowd, at the jury, there weren't so many people-but there were still too many.

"Well, what happened, we would all love to know." I wiped my palms against my pants. "What did Mr. Turpin do that you needed to defend yourself from?"

"He came onto me."

"Is there anyone who can verify this?"

"Well, we had gone upstairs to look for some records, the music was horrible, it had been all night, and it was really starting to bother me, and Joseph had said that there were c.d.'s upstairs."

"How convenient that this all happened away from witnesses."

"What's that supposed to mean."

"It means Mr. Turpin has a medical file and a concussion, and all you have is a story, a story you didn't share until charged with a crime? If it were true shouldn't you have reported Mr. Turpin? Unless of course self-defense is just an easy way out of an assault crime?"

I fucking hate lawyers.