Chapter 8
Draco's POV
Sitting in front of a group of people that is judging you is not the most comfortable feeling in the world. In fact, now that we were actually here, I was having some serious cold feet about trying to bring my father to justice.
Nothing could have prepared me for where I was today. Never in a million years would I have guessed that I would become –enchanted- the girl sitting next to me.
"Are you okay?" I whispered.
She jumped and then answered. "Yes. Are you?"
I nodded and then my head snapped to the front as Fudge spoke.
"So. We are here for a preliminary hearing for charges brought against Lucius Malfoy by Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. Albus Dumbledore, acting as their advisor, please rise."
The headmaster did so, and Fudge nodded to one of his assistants on his right. With a start, I recognized him as a friend of my father's. Or to put it bluntly- a Death Eater.
"Albus Dumbledore, please give us your testimony."
"Certainly. About a week ago, Ms. Granger came to me in my office. She said that she had to tell me something…"
I didn't want to hear this. Once was enough for me. I looked at my father, who was sitting as far away from me as possible. The one and only time he had looked at me his eyes held nothing but anger and disgust. I knew he no longer considered me a son. Part of me said good riddance, but another part of me sighed and reluctantly said goodbye to all the things in life that being a Malfoy could get you.
There was a silence, and I realized the headmaster had told everyone the story. Fudge peered down at me, and I stared back defiantly. Finally, Fudge cleared his throat.
"Albus Dumbledore's testimony being taken into account, I do not see any evidence of a rape. It is a fantastic tale to be sure, but one that seems to have been rehearsed to cover up nothing more than a common teenage pregnancy."
"That's a lie!" I shouted, unable to contain myself.
Professor Dumbledore shot me a look, and I slowly sat back down.
"As I was saying, this seems like nothing more than a plot to discredit a respected wizard!" Fudge glared down at me. "Let the record show that it is common fact that Mr. Malfoy and Albus Dumbledore have been enemies for quite some time. The question has to be asked, could Dumbledore be using these children for his own purposes?"
The people behind him murmured, and Fudge quickly backtracked. "Look at the facts! If, as Dumbledore swears, this is not just another case of teenagers facing the consequences of indulging their raging hormones – if there was never any relationship between them before this alleged incident - why are they holding hands like a courting couple?"
The murmurs stopped abruptly, and I followed their gazes to our hands. When had that happened?
I let go and glanced at her face. Her mouth was open in a small oh, and she looked…Well she looked like something, that's for sure.
I was positive she hadn't realized that we were holding hands either.
Fudge, seeming satisfied, cleared his throat. "Lucius Malfoy, what do you say to these allegations?"
But it didn't matter. I knew they would believe whatever he said, and we had defeated ourselves with one unconscious movement.
Anger swept through me. I looked at Hermione, and it was clear we were on the same page.
XxXxXx
"Okay, it didn't go well." I told Hermione. As we walked out of the Ministry of Magic, I continued. "There's more we can do."
"You want to continue this?" Hermione asked quietly.
It was easier out of the sight of my father to want to do the right thing. "He shouldn't get away with this. We can go to the Wizengamot. Or your friend, Luna! We could get publicity against him in her dad's magazine."
"What do you think professor?" Hermione stopped walking and faced Dumbledore.
"This will do just fine," Dumbledore said, stopping as well. "Let's continue this conversation at Hogwarts." Taking our cues from him, we Apparated back to the front gates of Hogwarts.
"I think that doing the right thing is always right, but dangerous. I will repeat what I said before. I will stand by you, no matter what course you decide to take." Dumbledore looked ahead, towards the front doors.
"I want to see my father put in Azkaban." I said firmly. Hermione did not look as sure.
"Ms. Granger, how do you feel? Do you wish to pursue the matter further?"
Hermione appeared to be thinking it over, a sad expression on her pale face. Right up to Dumbledore's office, she was silent, where we were met by three wizards.
"Ahh, I thought this might happen." Dumbledore said quietly.
"Albus Dumbledore, you are charged with the corruption of minors, conspiracy and malicious prosecution. Please come with us as we escort you back to the ministry." A tall bald-headed man read from a paper.
"That's ridiculous!" Hermione yelped, finally speaking.
She looked scared. I knew what she was thinking; if we didn't have Dumbledore, we would never win.
Dumbledore threw her a look, and Hermione shut her mouth, eyes on fire.
"Well, I guess my plan was just a little too obvious."
One of the wizards looked shocked, and then quickly recovered himself. "Come with us."
Dumbledore looked in my direction, and winked. "I do not think I will," he said.
"We have orders to-"
"Yes I know you do. Commendable though it is for you to try to carry those out, I have no intention of standing trial." Dumbledore said calmly.
The balding wizard on Avery's left, interrupted, his voice rising with nervous anger. "Dumbledore! We have orders – official ministry orders, authorized at the highest level – to take you with us."
"I have no doubt you do, Vulpus. And I will commend any and all zeal you demonstrate in your efforts to carry out those official orders. However," he smiled, with the greatest civility at the sweating wizard, "…It is only fair to warn you, I have no intention of – what is the phrase again? Oh, yes. I have no intention of – coming quietly.
The anxious, bald wizard looked flummoxed. "You're going to take on the three of us, single-handed?"
"He won't be single-handed!" exclaimed Hermione, reaching into her pocket.
My hand too, after a split second of hesitation, was reaching for my wand.
A fiery glance from Dumbledore halted us. "No!" he mouthed. To the three wizards, "Merlin's beard, no! I have no intention whatsoever of taking you three on, unless you force me to do so."
"Enough of this nonsense," snapped Avery, drawing his wand. "Take him!"
A streak of silver light flashed around our heads. Hermione squealed as a crack like a gunshot rattled the portraits on the walls. Fawkes screeched and dust filled the air. Another flash of silver and… I grabbed Hermione and pulled her to the floor as the spells flew in all directions around our heads. Avery crashed to the floor in front of us, his weight shaking the walls. A shriek. A thud. A panicked cry of "No!". The sound of breaking glass. Fleeing footsteps. And…
And silence.
Tentatively I raised my head. Dust was still floating everywhere. Avery, looking dazed, was pulling himself to his feet, groping for his expelled wand. The other two ministry wizards were brushing the debris from their robes. Dumbledore was – nowhere to be seen. He had escaped.
Hermione and I exchanged a glance. Dumbledore had escaped – which was good. But…
Escaped meant – gone.
Which was anything but good.
"Well…" The door to the office had opened. An icy voice sounded from the dimness of the passageway. "That was a display of startling incompetence, Avery." A disdainful sniff. "Still, at least the main objective – the removal of Dumbledore from Hogwarts – was achieved."
My blood ran cold. I knew that chilly, scornful voice. Had known it all my life. Its owner stepped out of the shadows. "Draco. My son."
My father strode forward to hug me. I stayed stock still until he let go.
"Father?"
"Draco, I am here – we are all here – to offer you… To offer you and Ms. Granger all the support we can."
"Support?"
I glanced at Hermione. She looked terrified. Nearly as terrified as I felt. Her hand was set protectively over her stomach. Over her baby. No. Over our baby. My jaw tightened and I clenched my hands into fists. Anything to stop them shaking. Anything to stop them showing how utterly scared I was. Scared for me, for her, for all of us.
"The whole fiasco with Dumbledore was tragic," purred my father, his eyes going from Hermione to me and back. "Don't worry. We realize exactly what has happened."
"And what exactly has happened, father?" I asked.
"It is obvious that both you and Miss Granger have been victims of memory manipulation. Now that Dumbledore – the source of that manipulation – is removed, your poor, abused minds will return to normal. No more lies will be forced upon you."
He turned to Hermione, "Go to the hospital wing and rest, my dear." A smile twisted his thin lips, "You are safe now, my dear.
Hermione shot a glance at me, and I tried to tell her with my eyes that it was okay. She turned around, and… It pained me to see her leave.
"Draco…" I dragged my eyes back to my father's face. "…You too must go rest. Later, I will have a – a particular task for you and you must save your strength." My father's eyes rested, meaningfully, on the door through which Hermione had just left. "I am sure you will do the right thing, my son."
