A/N: hehehe ... okay guys ... I wasn't quite sure whether to put this in or not ... it's not REALLY AU ... 'cause it COULD be his imagination ... even though it's not ...
Okay, I just thought that this fit. I don't know why, but I tried to write it other ways, an it just didn't work. So, head's up, Draco can See things in water. I figured that since JKR didn't really give us tons of facts on the finer points of diviniation, you could sort of make up some of your own, as long as the fit with the story.

Okay, onward and forward. I cannot believe I just typed that.
Next chapter will be longer - Lucius's Trial. And better. And more fitting with the plotline.
ARGH! I don't know if I should post this or not ... but I've already typed it all out, so why not.

"What?" I shook my head rapidly, blinked hard and then opened my eyes. Nope, still here.

Mother tentatively stood up, glancing around her as if to see that it would be allowed. No one even gave her a second glance. They were too busy discussing what exactly just happened.

"Why d'you think-?"

"Really, I have no idea."

"Does this mean-?"

"That we have to start liking the Malfoys? I suppose so."

"Because surely if Harry Potter thinks enough-"

"To get them out of Azkaban? Yes, I know what you mean."

"Although it was really only-"

"The wife? Yes, we should remember that."

Now Mother was making her way over to us. Still, nobody cared. I suppose, legally, she was just another citizen now. Surprisingly, she didn't look happy. Well she looked somewhat relieved but...

She stopped in front of us and we all just stared. Her eyes were flickering between me and Father and I could see the relief fading.

"I-" she started helplessly. "I love you two. If you get sent to Azkaban I'll try to break you out," she gave a tiny watery chuckle. Our guards seemed less than impressed.

"Love you Mom," I smiled at her - yes smiled! She just looked so sad that I wanted to cheer her up. "Fix the manor up. It looks too ... Voldemortized," I nodded and half of her mouth turned up. Well, it was a start.

Father didn't bother with words. I think that must have always been the way with him, for I can never remember him saying 'I love you' to Mother. She said it to him, not often, but it happened. I think he must be a more physical expresser of love.

Yuck. I can't believe I just thought that about my own father. That's more disgusting than my Father frenching my Mother right beside me. Which, incidentally, is happening right now. I'm just going to ... turn away ...

"I'll be back for your trials," she said finally, after even our guards were looking elsewhere. She looked so forlorn that I couldn't help hugging her. It's not something that I usually do, especially in public, but what the hell. I might never get a chance to again, and it's not like Potter's here.

"See you tomorrow," I said quietly. "Congratulations." She seemed rather surprised, as though she hadn't quite realized that she was free.

"Good luck," she said to both of us, and reluctantly left the courtroom, looking over her shoulder the entire time.

I know that I should be worried. I know that. So why do I just feel bored?

"Couldn't toss a book in here with us, could you?" I asked whoever was shoving me along. The cell door slammed in my face.

"Guess not."

I settled in for a long bout of silence. Father didn't seem too inclined to talk. So I went back to my favorite activity. Thinking.

Why was Weasel Senior so damned nice? It's not natural. Malfoys and Weasels just don't get along. It's an unspoken rule. Well actually Father spoke of it rather a lot when I was preparing to go to Hogwarts for the first time. Whatever.

Did he feel sorry for me? I hope not. I hate pity. And it had to be pity, right? It couldn't be empathy, how would he know what I was going through? Ugh, this is useless, I don't want to think about it anymore.

Potter. What is up with that kid? It's mind blowing. Seriously.

I was now getting irritated, even by my own thoughts, so I tried to rationalize things again.

Potter is the reason my Mother's not in Azkaban right now. Mother saved Potters life. Okay, it's evened out. But what about him saving my life? Surely that would've paid back his life debt to Mother? Or maybe you could only repay them by saving their life in return. That's crappy. It means that I have to save Potters life one and a half times. If I ever get out of here.

If I ever get out of here? What am I saying? I think Mothers trial might have made me overconfident. Now I feel like I'm going to get out.

Surely not. I know that I'm going to Azkaban. They've practically already sentenced me. Even Potter couldn't - oh what am I saying. Of course Potter could get me out of this. Not that he would. Not that he will.

I have to get myself used to the idea of going to Azkaban. I was used to it - before stupid Potter came and made me feel like something good will happen to me.

What about Father? He wont get out. The idea is insane. Nobody would get him out of Azkaban now that Voldemort's dead, not even if they owed them a life debt. Poor father. At least I had some kind of odd, unhelpful hope. There was a possibility that I might be freed. Yes, it was horribly unlikely, but it was still there.

The pity returned in full force. Again, I had no real reason to pity him - the only reason I had that possibility of a life was because of my age - but I just couldn't stop it.

My brain felt stuffed. I had been doing too much thinking lately. What I wouldn't give for a Pensive.

I settled down against the wall, crossed my legs and tried to meditate. It had to be rather like looking into a crystal ball, and I was half good at that when Trelawnly wasn't teaching me. I tried to clear my mind, to think of nothing and everything, was how my Mother described it once. And she's a fairly good Seer.

She says that she doesn't like it though, that it never shows you anything important. Just little things like someone random washing dishes. Although usually its someone you know. Someone you like, or are attracted to or something, though not necessarily in a romantic way. I've only ever Seen things twice, in water. I thought I was loosing my mind.

Once it was Blaise sitting, just sitting, and doing a transfiguration essay. It was in the Great Hall, after a Quidditch practice and I was looking into my cup, exhausted, when the picture floated across the water. I had jumped up, knocking over the water in question. And then I yelped as Blaise himself asked me what was wrong. It was all rather embarrassing.

Another time it was Crabbe and Goyle. I think that time was in second or third year. They were lying in a broom cupboard without shoes. It took me a while to find them. By that time they were waking up. They said they'd been drugged, but weren't sure how. Who would go to the trouble of drugging Crabbe and Goyle, then dragging them into the cupboard just for their shoes? Those two are really heavy blokes. It was extremely odd.

I suppose I should get used to using past tense with Crabbe, however depressing it is. I kind of miss them. Crabbe and Goyle. They were almost always with me, like two bodyguards or something. Sure, it was annoying - they're thicker than rocks - but I got used to it.

See these are the kind of thoughts I'm trying to use meditation to get rid of.

I tried, I really did. I must have sat there for half an hour trying to clear my mind but thoughts just kept drifting across it.

This is stupid.

I wonder what Mother's doing?

I wonder what Father's doing?

I wonder what Goyle's doing?

I wonder what Potter's doing?

I wonder if I'm going insane?

This is stupid.

Finally I opened my eyes, admitting defeat. Father still hadn't moved. He was just sitting on the bench, eyes open but not really seeing.

Wasn't his ass numb? Mine was.

I just wanted to scream with boredom. My mind needed something to do! Something, anything. I'd take a conversation with Potter over this. Although that's not really fair because I already wanted to ask him something. Namely, what the fuck.

Seeing. I could try Seeing. Even Seeing random people do nothing would be better than this.

I grabbed one of the dishes full of food and dumped the half-cooked rice out of it onto the tray. I wasn't hungry anyway. Then I took a napkin - we don't get books but we get napkins? - and cleaned it out the best I could. I don't think I've ever washed a dish before. Then I dumped some of the water from the pitcher into the bowl, filling it up almost to the top. I wriggled around for a few minutes, trying out different positions. What I wouldn't give for a desk and chair.

But finally I settled on lying on my stomach in a very un-Malfoyish way with the bowl between my arms so I could easily look into it. It was rather like doing one of those optical illusion things. You had to let your eyes drop out of focus and just wait until things were clear. You couldn't rush things. That was what I was doing wrong the last time I purposely tried to See something.

But now I definitely had enough time on my hands that I wouldn't be tempted into doing something else. There was nothing else to do.

I sat still but relaxed letting the thoughts pour across my mind. They were essential for Seeing. You had to think of everything, but nothing specific. Like when you're really relaxed and you just think without thinking. If you know what I mean.

It took a while but there was nothing else to do so I didn't push it. Finally the water started to cloud. I couldn't see the bottom of the bowl anymore. I started to get excited but I was too calm for the emotion to really push it's way forward. I could See fuzzy shapes in the bowl. It had never been like this when I wasn't trying - the vision would just float across the water like a flag waving it's banner.

It was me. I was sitting in that damn chair with its horrible chains in the courtroom. I looked suitably unreadable, until something happened off to the corner. I tried tilting my head a bit, but it didn't matter. The little bowl-me let it's mouth flop open before shutting it quickly and frowning as though confused. The vision abruptly cut off and I was left as confused as ever.

The water started to cloud over again. I could see a splotch, getting bigger and gaining more substance as the clouds cleared. Dark hair, medium build, it was ... Potter! What the hell?

He was sitting in the same courtroom that I'd just been in for Mother's trial and in my vision. McNaire was on trial, all wrapped up under the chains. It made what Mother got look like mercy. He was struggling under the weight, though it was obviously futile.

I couldn't hear anything, but I could see that Potter was talking. Saying something while glaring at McNair. The look in his eyes was chilling. It was the look that reminded you that beneath all the hair there was the person who defeated Voldemort. I wondered what he was saying. He certainly didn't look like he did during my Mothers trial, all laid back and casual. Now he was filled with loathing, disgust, and something harsher.

It scared me a little, the look in his eyes. Not that I would ever admit it. And not just that, it scared me that I was Seeing Potter.

Abruptly I sat up, tossing the napkin into the bowl to block out the water. I had been wrong. Seeing wasn't better than being bored.

A/N: Okay, you absolutely MUST review for this one. I'm biting my nails.