A/N: I'm baaaaack! Now, the hope is i can crank out a few more chapters before life takes over again. We shall see. Thanks so much to people who have stuck by me and this story! I love you all.

The ISOWW

Day 164

Hermione was not exactly sure when it was she'd last gotten a full stretch of sleep. She felt like she was on the verge of something and she wouldn't be able to rest until she saw it through. She'd been telling the truth when she said she didn't think she could find a way around Draco's guilt in joining the Death Eaters and letting them into Hogwarts the night Dumbledore died. For that reason, she knew she'd have to come up with something more than compassion to keep the Wizengamot from using that as a means to lock him in Azkaban and throw away the key.

It was clear to her that Draco Malfoy was no threat to society. Nor were Theo Nott, Pansy Parkinson, or nearly 40 other children of Death Eaters being tried over the coming weeks. As Theo and Pansy's trials began, she could already tell what was in store for Draco and his mother, and it meant she needed a Hail Mary to keep him from being put right back in Azkaban where he'd nearly died.

'It's a last shot. Bureaucracy is slow. I'm not sure if we'll have time, but we have to try. I have a contact in the ISOWW that promises to push this issue to top priority.' Healer Goldstein had been such a comfort to Hermione because he cared as much as she did about justice. He had barely rested, either, with keeping up with the Azkaban patients.

'And what would this do, exactly?' she asked, not wanting to get her hopes up.

'Wizarding Britain is dependent on the International Society of Witches and Wizards. They've leveraged so many assets fighting two massive wars against Voldemort. Their trade agreements are tied to that relationship. If the ISOWW agrees to step in here, we, at the very least have bought full scale prison reform and sentencing oversight.' Healer Goldstein explained. 'Moreover, the interim Minister doesn't know international policy from a hole in the ground. They'll never be able to predict this.'

Hermione rocked back on her heals. Could it be? Could this really happen? She didn't want to get ahead of herself. 'What can i do to speed the process?'

'Nothing, unfortunately,' the healer replied giving her a small smile. 'And I don't think you should mention it to the Malfoys or anyone else. There is no need for any of these defendants to count on something that might not even happen.'

'You are right,' she agreed. 'Okay. Thank you so much for your help. I would have never known how to go about this without you.'

'Anything I can do, I'm here,' he offered. 'This is not right. It hasn't been right in Britain for a very long time.' Hermione smiled warmly and nodded at him before tucking the slip of paper he handed to her behind the rest of the papers in her hand and heading to the Malfoys' room.

'Miss Granger, lovely to see you again,' Narcissa said with a weak smile. She was perched on her bed, noble as ever, in a satin blue dressing gown. She looked so much healthier since leaving Azkaban, but Hermione could tell what Draco meant when he said she was always a little 'fragile'. While her color was back, and she'd filled out to her normal waif-like figure, she always seemed on the verge of a fainting spell. She just hoped Mrs. Malfoy could make it through her trial without incident.

'It's lovely to see you, as always,' Hermione smiled brightly. 'Is Draco...'

'Oh, he'll be back very shortly. He's meeting with Healer Schmidt.' Hermione almost did a double take. She was one-hundred percent certain she'd heard Draco state that he'd rather make love to a Hippogriff than talk to what he called 'the bloody quack'. Healer Schmidt had been brought in from the Wizarding community of Munich to handle mental and psychological illness. She would also serve as a key witness in the trials - particularly those of the less than willing members of the Death Eaters.

Narcissa's delicate giggle broke Hermione from her internal thoughts. 'Oh, believe me. He did not go willingly.' Hermione sort of smiled at that before plopping down in her usual chair next to the table where she wrote her notes. 'I think it's good he goes,' Mrs. Malfoy said.

In the last several weeks Hermione had been able to get to know the Lady of Malfoy Manor, the older woman rarely offered much past what was needed for trial and general polite small talk. Hermione got the feeling that Narcissa genuinely appreciated her, but that she didn't know what to do with that information given that Hermione was, in fact, muggle-born. So, it was fairly uncharacteristic when Mrs. Malfoy continued.

'In our culture, we don't talk about the bad times,' She said, averting her eyes from Hermione's. 'Talking to Healer Schmidt makes me realize that my bad times are not as unusual as I had been led to believe. I've always struggled with my emotions, my anxieties. I assumed this was all part of being a dedicated wife, mother, and madam of a large estate. And Draco...'

She paused for a moment, seeming to try to think about how she wanted to word what she was about to say, 'I'm given to understand my condition is passed in the blood. I know it doesn't always manifest itself the same ways. Draco is not given to long bouts of the weepies. But it is hard for me to imagine how he could get through the past year without some lasting damage. I don't think I've protected him well enough.'

'Mrs. Malfoy, you have done better than most,' Hermione said, her eyes glistening. She felt honored that the women felt comfortable enough to say something so personal to her. 'Draco has been better protected than most other children in his position. That is entirely due to you.' Narcissa looked up with her with a small smile, but before she could say anything they heard Draco entering the room.

'Granger, do you ever sleep?' he asked, but his tone was jovial.

'Nope,' she said with a pop of her lips. 'I can sleep in about three weeks when this trial is over.'

Draco just snorted. 'I can't imagine what there is left for you to do. You know the story inside out, upside down. I'm pretty sure you've read every law book in Wizarding Britain, and I've just come from 'the quack'. She better give me high marks or I'm going to be thoroughly put out that I had to talk to her about things that are none of her business.'

Narcissa 'tisked' him but Hermione shook her head and chuckled. Draco was actually pretty funny when he wanted to be. 'It's okay, Mrs. Malfoy. That's just Draco's way of saying, 'Thank you Hermione. I'm forever in your debt for finding me an expert professional to help me with my case.'

Draco mumbled something under his breath but he didn't say anything further on the matter.

'I believe it is my turn with Healer Schmidt,' the Malfoy matriarch said getting up quietly from her place on the bed. 'I will leave you to it.'

'Do you need help, Mother?' Draco asked, standing at attention.

'Oh no, dear. I've been there enough times to know my way.' Draco nodded and walked over to the other chair at Hermione's table.

'You look terrible,' he finally said. And she did. She looked like she hadn't slept or eaten in ages. In the pit of his gut he felt guilty about that. That was an unusual feeling for him on its own.

It had been a terribly strange day anyway. He was not prone to talking about his feelings or his life with anyone. But his freedom was dependent on enough people arguing that he had no real malice in him, even when he was doing illegal deeds. That meant he had to have a session with is mother's head doctor. It wasn't at all like he'd thought it would be. He was expecting to be shown pictures of terrible scenes and having her check if he was excited by them or not. In reality, she just asked a lot of questions and demanded he talk - a lot. He was talked out for the next week.

It had been a struggle at first. Old habits are hard to break, and he did not want to talk about his relationship with his father, or Snape, or the Dark Lord, or Granger. How in the world Granger came into matters he could not remember, but Schmidt sure did a lot of writing when he talked about the help she'd given him and his mother.

'Thanks, ever so,' Hermione replied with a roll of the eyes. 'You sure do know the way to a woman's heart.'

'You aren't a woman,' Draco quipped back. 'You are Granger.'

If Ron had said it, that comment would have truly hurt. But under the surface, she knew Draco was just being Draco. So, instead of responding, she moved right along. 'I've got one last meeting with your solicitor this week before the trial starts next week. I get the feeling he is overburdened with other defendants, unfortunately.'

'Perfect,' Draco said, with a sigh.

'All is not lost. Kings - er, that is Kingsley - has explained that these trials are very informal. While that is frustrating to due process and rule of law, it allows me to represent you with more detail and understanding of the situation. I've already done so with the preliminary part of Pansy Parkinson's trial, and I feel confident,' Hermione said.

Draco nodded. 'Okay. I don't want to think about what will happen after this is over. I assume my mother and I won't be let back to St. Mungo's. It will be back to Azkaban.'

'I don't want you to think like that...'

'Well, why the hell not, exactly. Even if you can get these people to pity me, I'm actually guilty,' Draco reasoned. 'With Fudge hoping to look tough on crime and Drumpf ready to execute anyone who has ever even looked at a Dark Mark, I cannot imagine how I avoid going back there.' Draco stared down at the table in front of him, sighing heavily.

Hermione bit her lip and extended her hand to his. When he didn't flinch or move away, she squeezed it in hers. 'No one is going back to Azkaban in the condition it is in,' she swore. He looked up at her. The intensity in her eyes was so strong it nearly knocked him over. He wanted to tell her she was living pipe dreams, but after looking at her, he believed her. He didn't know why, but he believed that she would never let Azkaban stand, if it was the last thing she did.

'Okay,' he said simply. He missed the warmth of her hand when she let go of his.

Day 169

The Daily Prophet

What is Muggle-born Hermione Granger doing with Draco Malfoy?

As the joint trial for Draco and Narcissa Malfoy approaches, they are receiving aide from a most unlikely source. Former Gryffindor and Harry Potter's friend, Hermione Granger has made it her personal mission to see to it Death Eaters are coddled through the process of justice.

While Miss Granger has been present at the first of the trials, even giving sworn testimony in favor of a handful of former Slytherin class-mates like Pansy Parkinson (to be remanded to Azkaban as soon as the facility undergoes minor reform for a sentence of 1 year) and Theo Nott (to be remanded to Azkaban as soon as the facility undergoes minor reform for a sentence of 10 years), the Malfoys will be the first trial where Hermione Granger acts in the capacity of co-counsel - despite her obvious lack of relevant scholarship in law. The question is, why?

We know Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater. We know Miss Granger was tortured in his home, probably by him and his mother. What possible reason could she have for defending these terrorists? Has her penchant for 'social justice' caused her to lose all reason? Would she really sell her people down the river to protect one man? Has she been blackmailed in some way? So many questions. Hopefully, the answers will reveal themselves on Tuesday when the Malfoys begin their trial.

'Utter fucking rubbish,' Hermione said, throwing the paper down. Harry chuckled into his bowl of cereal.

'Why you even subscribe to that rag anymore I'll never know,' he said.

'If Fudge and Drumpf are our only candidate for minister, I at least need to keep up with what horrifying things they are saying,' Hermione reasoned.

'Oh, I can give you the gist,' Harry said. He cleared his throat in spoke in an affected voice, eerily close to that of Jeanine Fudge, 'Well, you see, good people of Wizarding Britain. Only I can truly understand the tough times we face. Here with my massively wealthy donors, we know just the right path through the middle to make sure we get rich while the rest of you get fed bread and circuses...'

Hermione busted out laughing. 'Oh god, Harry. How long have you been working on that?'

'I'm not done,' he grinned. He turned the other direction and cleared his throat again. This time he pursed his lips together the way Reginald Drumpf always did. 'We shall never accept this kind of degradation of British society again! We shall make Wizarding Britain great again by going back in time and purifying society of subversive thoughts and actions! It's going to be a great society, the best. Believe me.'

'I'm dying,' Hermione wheezed. 'He sounds just like that.'

'I'm glad I could make you smile,' Harry said fondly. 'You are far too tense. I'm going to insist you go out with me, Ron, and Ginny tonight and relax.'

'Harry, I don't think I should...'

'I won't hear it, Hermione.' Harry said in a no-nonsense tone. 'You have prepared everything you can prepare and you need your rest. The trial is in a few days and until then, you can't do anything else.'

She wanted to protest but he was right. 'Okay,' she said. 'But only one drink.'

Four drinks later, Hermione was pleasantly smashed and she, Harry, Ron, and Ginny happily giggled as they stomped up the stairs of 12 Grimmauld Place. Thank goodness Harry finally got that old bat off the wall so she no longer screamed obscenities at them every time they made a peep.

'You staying the night, mate?' Harry asked Ron.

'No way can I go home like this. Mum'd kill me,' Ron laughed.

'Okay, see you...' Harry cried, dashing up the stairs with Ginny right behind.

'You think they wanted to get rid of us?' Hermione asked with her eyebrow raised.

'I do not want to think about it,' Ron slurred with a shudder. 'I better get of to bed myself.'

'Yeah, me too,' Hermione said, turning to her room on a wobbly leg.

'Wait,' Ron said, a little too loud. She spun around and clung to the door for balance. Things were getting a little swirly. She definitely needed a Sober-up potion before bed.

'I just wanna say,' Ron said, still slurring, 'I know why you are helping that wanker Malfoy.'

'Huh?'

'Well, you know, you can't not help him. If there is injustice, you have to fix it. That's you. That's Harry, too. I just want you to know, I get it. We all get it, even if we don't...get it. You know?' Ron said, looking as if he'd confused himself with his own comment.

Hermione launched herself in her friend's arms, nearly knocking him over. 'Thank you, Ron. It means so much to me.'

Ron grinned back, smacked a kiss on her cheek and then stalked up the stairs to the guest bedroom.

Day 171

Draco felt like he was going to puke. Taking a few deep breaths, he finished buttoning his impeccable robes, making himself presentable for his mother's approval. She looked beautiful in modest grey robes. He could tell she was nervous but she was holding it together admirably.

'They will be here any minute,' he said uselessly. He just felt the need to fill the silence. Granger had told him what to expect and he knew she'd be at the chamber when he got there, but he still didn't know if he was prepared. His stomach was in knots.

'Ready?' It was Healer Goldstein. He'd personally offered to escort them to the Ministry for the trial.

'Yes,' he said, standing up straight. 'Mum?' he offered her his arm and she graciously took it.

'I'm ready, dear,' she said, but the quiver in her voice was noticeable to him. He squeezed her hand and the followed the healer to the Apparition point.

'Surely, you understand that Madam Malfoy's mental health is tied to her ability to be near her son,' Richard Ringle argued. It had already been decided that for the duration of the trial, Narcissa could stay at St. Mungo's receiving treatment but that Draco would have to stay in Ministry detention.

'And surely you understand, Solicitor, that we are here to exact justice, not to operate as a concierge taking requests,' the Wizengamot's representative replied.

Hermione's nails bit into her hands as she sighed in frustration. 'Mr. Malfoy has nowhere to go. He has no money. He has no access to international portkeys. He's as safe at St. Mungo's where he's been for weeks as he would be here.' Ringle reasoned.

'The matter is finished,' Jeanine Fudge's voice carried over the din. 'Draco Malfoy will stay in Ministry custody. Narcissa Malfoy will return to St. Mungo's. This is, after all, a very fair decision taking into account factors that this body is not required to consider.'

Hermione knew the matter was settled as most of the Wizengamot nodded in agreement. Well, it wasn't ideal, but hopefully the trial wouldn't last long anyway.

'Now, shall we get started?' the prosecutorial solicitor asked.

With a nod from the interim Minister, the trial began.

'And you did not call the Aurors when they brought Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger into your home?' asked the stout, oily solicitor who was prosecuting the case.

'I did not,' Narcissa answered, primly. 'I very much wanted to live.'

'And where you a party to the torture that occurred in your drawing room?' he asked.

'In the sense that I did not stop it, yes. But I did not torture anyone, and I've made clear to Miss Granger that I'm deeply sorry for what happened to her in my home,' Narcissa said. Hermione smiled and nodded in her direction. There was a murmur all around the room.

'And why, exactly, did you open your home to Voldemort?' he asked, switching topics quickly.

'I was not given a choice. I certainly would not have invited him willingly. My interest was in protecting my family, my son,' she answered. Hermione was proud of how strong and clear she was being. She had worried that the stress of the trial would be too much.

The questioning went on and on, and after a time, Hermione could tell that Narcissa was growing tired. As his mother deteriorated, so, too did Draco's patience.

'It's been hours on the same topic, Granger,' he hissed.

'I know,' she said more to herself before standing up. 'Excuse me!' she called waving her hand in the air like she used to in Professor Snape's class. 'I believe Mrs. Malfoy might need a break. Could we please allow her a rest?'

'Do you think her victims were given rest?' someone from the back called. Hermione recognized him. He was a supporter of Drumpf - a very vocal one.

'Considering I'm the only 'victim' any of you have ever found that Narcissa Malfoy has any remote relationship to, I'd think you'd take my wishes into account,' she countered, raising her eyebrow at him.

Harry snorted next to her, and there was a rumble of amused chatter around her.

'I'm finished anyway,' said the prosecutor.

'Let's resume tomorrow,' the Minister said with a nod of his head.

Hermione and Draco let out joint sighs of relief. Before they escorted the Malfoys out of the room, to go their separate ways, Hermione promised to be the go between for them while they were separated.

'Thanks, Granger,' Draco said, the corner of his mouth turning up into what could only be described as a smile.