FORGIVE ME!
I had all the time in the world to update this fanfiction, and I'm not gonna lie, I finished writing this chapter months ago but my displeasure with the way it went made it difficult for me to find the motivation to upload it and I couldn't work it out. I spent some time today going through this and tacked on another half a page. Only now do I deem it acceptable for submission.
The cell Draco was being held in was decent, compared to the empty classroom at Hogwarts. The walls were painted a beige colour, with a simple iron bed in one corner bolted to the ground, a toilet and basin hidden behind a brick screen, a window enchanted to look like the streets outside and a small desk and on it rested a thick book listing the properties of magical seeds and grains. It had been an interesting read and Draco finished it. Twice.
Gripped tightly in his hand was the hair pin that he was mercifully allowed to keep with him inside the cell. When they moved to take it from him while doing a security screening, he protested fervently that it had sentimental value and he really could not accept having it taken away. During his imprisonment it helped to keep himself sane, and prevented him from becoming overwhelmed by the silence and apprehension.
Four days had crawled by so slowly since the funeral and the trial was today at 2 o'clock. To say that he was anxious was an understatement - his skin was crawling with foreboding. What was he supposed to do? To say? No one had told him what would happen and no one had even deigned to notify him of whether his parents had been seen yet. Even the guards outside his door had their lips sealed and none even humoured him with a greeting when their shift began. Lunch had come and gone, and the minutes on the clock above the door ticked ever so slowly, the sound fraying his nerves. The untouched plate sat on the desk, the food now cold, for he doubted he could stomach it.
At five to, the door to his cell slid open, revealing a burly Auror with sunken eyes and a scar that sliced through a dark eyebrow. Draco stood up, and noticing the shackles in the nameless Auror's hands, Draco thrust out his wrists and the cold metal clicked into place.
The Auror brought him to a room further down the hallway and sat him down on the wooden chair beside a heavy iron door and there he waited.
"Mr Malfoy, you may come in." Shacklebolt's now recognisable voice sounded tinny through the door and Draco had a brief glimpse through the glass screen before he was carted into the room. His initial suspicion that this would be an unique trial was confirmed as soon as he had a full view of the room.
The room was very small, with a large table bolted to the floor, two uncomfortable-looking chairs on one side while Shacklebolt sat on the other side. There was a middle-aged woman in the corner behind Shacklebolt, armed with a notepad and a scribing quill.
"Please sit, Mr Malfoy." Kingsley Shacklebolt gestured and Draco did as told, more confused than ever. His father once spoke of a large room, lined with benches filled to the brim with the Wizengamot, witnesses and other witches and wizards and a podium at the head where the Minister usually sat. Chains apparently strapped you down to the chair in the middle of the room if you were a particularly dangerous criminal. He saw none of that in this little room. On the table in front of him were two goblets containing water, a beige folder with his name on it and a Pensieve smaller than the one he had previously used.
"Good afternoon, Mr Draco Malfoy." Shacklebolt began stiffly when Draco nodded. "I'm sure you are aware that this is not the usual set-up for a trial. This is due to the large number of criminals that need to be tried and we are short-staffed at the moment to deal with these matters. As I have very little time to spare, I will only handle the high profile cases; such as yours and your parents. I'm certain that if I gave the responsibility to another, they would sentence you harshly.
"We will have witnesses come in and testify against or for you, and some of these witnesses have provided memories they feel will aid in your freedom. In your glass, there is a strong dose of Veritaserum, so I will have you drink the whole thing in one go and-"
Draco drank the glass nearest him quickly in mid sentence and saw the glass refill itself. Did it refill with another dose of the Truth Serum or was it just plain water this time? He briefly wished that you could detect Veritaserum by taste or by a distinct visual property.
"According to your O.W.L results, you are well versed in Potions, so you perhaps understand already why Veritaserum is never used in court. However, seeing as how you've been in solitary confinement for the last four days, we can rest assured you have not taken any antidotes, am I correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"Firstly, I will ask you some general questions to ensure the effectiveness of the potion before we begin. What is your full name?"
"Draco Lucius Malfoy." he replied automatically. He didn't even need to think before the words tumbled past his lips.
"What is the date of your birth?"
"Fifth of June, 1980."
"Can you produce a Patronus?"
"No, sir."
"What was your first wand and who created it?"
"10 inches, hawthorn, unicorn hair, Garrick Ollivander."
The Minister seemed pleased with Draco's quick responses and flipped open the folder. Draco could see a picture of himself from a few days ago, and underneath the moving photograph was a torrent of basic information about himself. Then the page was turned to reveal an extensive list of questions.
"Instead of wasting valuable time in listing your offences, I'm going to go straight to the important questions and we will go from there."
"Yes, sir."
"Why did you join Lord Voldemort?"
Straight to the point, Draco mused wryly.
"When my father failed the Dark Lord in the Department of Mysteries and thereafter imprisioned, he was not pleased. So he threatened my parents' lives if I did not join him and complete my mission he set out for me."
"What was the mission's objective?"
"The primary objective was Albus Dumbledore's death, thus allowing entrance for the Death Eaters into Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft." Draco eyed the scribe's quill magically scribbling furiously at the pad, while the witch merely observed the words.
"What was your role as a Death Eater in the Second War, Mr Malfoy?"
"During the school holidays I personally prepared and delivered the meals for the prisoners, as they didn't trust the house elves very much, since they could Apparate in and out of the cellar in which they were held. I personally took on the responsibility of burning the bodies because the others preferred to let them rot on the grounds of Malfoy Manor. And, on the sly, I tended to Luna Lovegood and Garrick Ollivander's wounds."
"Have you performed any of the Unforgivable Curses on innocents?"
"Yes," said Draco, his lips pulling down into a frown.
"Which one?"
"I cast the Imperius Curse twice in Sixth Year, on Madam Rosmerta and, through her, Katie Bell. I almost cast the Cruciatus Curse upon Harry Potter in Sixth Year but he managed to escape it by attacking me first."
"What happened during the altercation with Mr Potter?"
"I was distressing about my mission to Moaning Myrtle, the ghost of the second floor girls bathroom, and Potter came in. I panicked and began the incantation for the Curse. He stopped me, I don't know what spell he used, but he managed to slice my chest open. I was terrified he would get me into trouble with the Dark Lord by relaying information to Dumbledore or someone else."
"Have you killed anyone during the time you were one of Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters?"
"No."
"Did you take part in torturing innocents?"
"No. When Aunt Bellatrix was present, she would encourage me to join her but I failed each time and then she would torture me instead. On one occasion, the Dark Lord had me torture another Death Eater, Thorfinn Rowle, for his incompetence or else face his wrath. My mother begged me to raised my wand on Rowle, knowing that I could face death if I disappointed the Dark Lord again."
Shacklebolt looked surprised at the mention of the witch torturing her nephew and the Dark Lord's additional threat. Then he gave the young wizard a look of sympathy before schooling it into a mask of cool indifference.
"You tortured Thorfinn Rowle? With what?"
Draco realised that he hadn't told Shacklebolt about Rowle's torture with an Unforgivable, and for a moment there, he began to doubt the serum's effectiveness. Then he recalled that Shacklebolt had asked about the usage of the Unforgivables on innocents.
"With the Cruciatus Curse."
Shacklebolt suspiciously eyed the goblet sitting next to Draco's right hand, doubting it's strength. "You didn't mention that earlier, Mr Malfoy."
"You asked "Have you performed any of the Unforgivable Curses on innocents?". Rowle was no innocent, he had been brutal and sadistic during his time as one of the Dark Lord's followers."
"And long before, no doubt." Shacklebolt shot him a dry smile as he peered at his papers. "You mentioned bodies. Who were they?"
"I only recognised two of them, and they were teachers of Hogwarts; Charity Burbage and Alastor Moody. I don't know what happened to other bodies while I was at school though since I was the only Death Eater that had any respect for the dead."
"If I showed you photographs of missing witches and wizards that disappeared during the school breaks, would you be able to identify them?"
"Possibly. Hopefully." At that, Shacklebolt gave a look of acceptance.
"Alright, we will return to that at the end of this session." Shacklebolt laced his fingers together in front of him. "Why did you betray Lord Voldemort on the night of the battle?"
"I had been on the fence for most of the time I served under You-Know-Who, though I couldn't risk my family's safety. When Potter saved my life for the second time the night of the battle, I realised I'd rather give up my life for the sake of the good than support the Dark Lord any longer. I wanted to repay the favour."
"Noble. And very… Gryffindor of you." Shacklebolt smirked, which earned a scowl from Draco.
"I think that's enough questions for the time being. I think it's time for the witness testimonies." Shacklebolt turned his face to the entrance, and raised his voice somewhat. "Will the first witness please come in?"
The door swung open to reveal Harry Potter and he strode in quickly without looking at Draco. He then sat down next to the blond boy while Draco turned the hair pin over and over in his hands, making sure to hide it from's Potter's sight.
"Kingsley." Potter greeted.
"Harry." Shacklebolt smiled and Draco began to envy the easy camaraderie between the two. "How long have you known Mr Malfoy?"
"Ever since we started First Year. We met at Madam Malkins' in Diagon Alley just before we started First Year at Hogwarts."
"How would you describe your relationship with the defendant?"
"Childish pettiness." Potter smirked. "We disliked each other immensely right from the start."
"Not right from the start," Draco interjected absentmindedly. Potter whirled his head around to stare at the blond man.
"What?"
"I was trying to befriend you at first." Shut up! Just shut up, fool, stop humiliating yourself!
"Rotten way to introduce yourself, don't you think? 'I think I'll bully father into getting me one…''" Potter snorted, smirking wryly. Draco pursed his lips as he considered the words he vaguely recalled saying. Had he been such an arrogant snot at that age?
"Why are you here today, Mr Potter?" Potter dropped the smirk and focused his attention on the Minister.
"I came to testify in Malfoy's defence." The silence that followed would allow the court room to hear a pin drop, which almost happened as Draco fumbled with the hair pin and very nearly dropped it in surprised. He had not expected hear those words from anyone, least of all Harry Potter.
"When the Snatchers caught us, he lied about our identities, even though everyone else doubted him. He switched his allegiance during the battle at Hogwarts and many reported that he attacked the Death Eaters, destroyed most of the Acromantulas and then tended to the injured. When I watched Snape's memories I understood that he was more innocent than I had believed. He was a cowardly prat and not much else."
Draco scowled, pressing his chin down to his chest, a frown forming across his brow.
There was silence for a beat.
"Kingsley, you and I already know that he doesn't deserve to go to Azkaban. His change in allegiance is more than enough to prove to us that he doesn't have an ounce of cruelty in him. Well, aside from the bullying in school, that is."
"I believe you are right, Harry." Shacklebolt peered down at the folder, contemplating. "Mrs Malfoy has shown me a few memories which showcase his struggles with his allegiance. In fact, she had to immobilise him when he tried to protect Miss Granger from his Aunt."
Draco's eyes widened dramatically at that point and rapidly raised his head to meet Shacklebolt's knowing gaze. Potter didn't seem to catch the wordless exchange between defendant and Minister as Draco tried to glean information on the memories. When he got the impression that the Minister knew, he widened his eyes frantically as if to beg him not to expose his secret affection.
"He did?" Potter asked wondrously, frowning at the man next to him. Draco gripped the hairpin tighter until it dug into the skin of his palm, his jaw set firmly.
"Yes." Draco bit out, hoping Potter did not ask why.
"Thank you, Mr Potter." said Shacklebolt, catching onto his apprehensiveness. "I think we have all we need from you now. Could you please inform the next witness to wait for a while longer? I have a few more questions I would like to ask Mr Malfoy in private."
Just how many witnesses were there?
Potter nodded, and left the room. Then the Minister waved away the witch in the corner, and she collected her items before temporarily leaving the room. The departure of the scribe just added to the secrecy of the moment, which only heightened Draco's curiosity.
"Mr Malfoy." said Shacklebolt, his professional tone having dropped to one that was much more softer, more open, which surprised Draco. "Is it true that you have romantic feelings towards Miss Hermione Granger?"
Draco wanted so much to say no, to lie so that the entire Wizarding community did not learn of his feelings. But it was impossible to do so with the Veritaserum in his system. In order to stall his reply, he downed the entire goblet of water in one go.
Clearing his throat as he replaced the goblet, he said, "Yes."
Shacklebolt leaned back in his seat, exhaling, and Draco had some difficulty in reading his expression.
"Why did Mother tell you?"
"Why do you think she told me?" Shacklebolt answered. "She wanted to prove your innocence in any way she could. It was a very unexpected development in the case, to be honest, but one that tipped the trial very much in your favour. Of course, I didn't believe her, it seemed too irrational to be true, but then she implored that I examine her memories."
Draco remained silent, contemplative, and embarrassed at having his secret affection laid so bare in front of him. However, he could see why his mother told Shacklebolt. He lifted his hands from his lap to rest on the table in front of him, fingers intertwined, hiding the sapphire clasp.
"How long?" Shacklebolt asked, sounding much more sympathetic than earlier. Draco sighed, opening his hands to gaze at the faceted stone in the centre of the filigree, and he could see that the other man's curiosity was piqued by the object in his palms.
"A long time. First Year I was impressed with her thirst for knowledge, and it just made me more competitive. For the next couple of years it was all about the competition as my father made me feel terrible that I was being beaten by a single Muggleborn. My obsessing over being better than her grew to grudging admiration in Third Year when she literally slapped some sense into me. After that I couldn't hate her anymore." Draco turned the pin over, running his thumb over the silver. "She hates me, and I was meant to hate her too. I feared what Father would think of me if he found out, and I was terrified when the Dark Lord returned… and my Aunt. I couldn't risk her safety as well as my parents' so I had no choice but to go along with everything."
"I don't think she hates you, you know." Shacklebolt pointed out nonchalantly. "Otherwise, she wouldn't be here to defend you."
"What?" He spluttered.
"Miss Granger, as you may already know, has a wonderful ability to forgive people."
Draco's eyes widened once more, this time rather comically. He shoved the pin into the sleeve of his shirt just as the Minister called for the scribe and the next witness to enter the room.
Air was knocked out of his chest as his vision honed in on the petite form of Hermione crossing the threshold. It completely floored him when he realised that she was more beautiful than ever, even more so than when she had dressed up for the Yule Ball. She was dressed modestly in a crisp white blouse, each sleeve rolled up to the elbow, and sleek grey trousers with her hair pinned back into a bun.
He gaped slightly as she took her place next to him at the table, and then his body seized up as he took in her close proximity, imagining that he could feel the warmth emanating from her. Was she also wearing perfume?
"Good afternoon, Miss Granger." Shacklebolt greeted the woman warmly.
"Hello, Kingsley. Malfoy." She said evenly, folding her hands on the table and Draco began to cough as he gasped for much needed air - he hadn't realised he'd stopped breathing as soon as she entered the small room. Speaking of which, was it him, or did the room suddenly get so much warmer in the span of a few seconds? His face felt hot and the collar to the shirt he wore was suddenly stifling, yet he couldn't even bring himself to stop coughing.
"Mr Malfoy, breathe." Shacklebolt implored dryly, holding the full goblet in front of his face. Draco heaved a great lungful of air with some difficulty, and reached out for it-
Until Hermione started patting him on the back, and he jumped a mile high in his seat. The shock of it caused him to choke on nothing but air and for the minutes that followed he was suffering from a wheezing cough. Still she did not cease her ministrations between his shoulder blades.
Draco briefly wondered if she was to be the death of him. And found that he most certainly would not mind dying right here, right now, if it meant being under her compassionate care.
He forced himself to calm down and get his breathing under control and when his lungs finally stopped trying to come up his throat, Hermione withdrew her hand from his back and he almost, almost, made a pathetic whine at the loss of her warmth.
Hermione was eyeing Draco with pity and curiosity in her gaze, and he could feel his face grow hotter and no doubt it was the shade of beetroot by now. He was mortified!
Shacklebolt offered the goblet again, amusement curling his lips into a smirk, and Draco felt his face burn under the knowing stare. He took the goblet and raised it to his lips.
"Drink slowly. Wouldn't want you to cough up another lung now, would we?"
Draco scowled at the Minister.
"Alright, Miss Granger, should we begin?"
"Yes, we should, Kingsley." Hermione smiled, folding her hands and straightening her posture.
"Why are you here today?" Shacklebolt made a pointed stare at Draco.
"To testify in Malfoy's defence, of course." she said. "He deserves to be exonerated for his offences."
"Why?" the Minister asked, a tiny smirk teasing Draco as his eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets. He had to put so much careful focus on breathing properly lest he dissolve into another coughing fit. How she managed to knock the air out of his lungs with just words, he'll never know.
"Because he asked me in Sixth Year if people like him deserved a second chance. I told him that yes, he did." She paused. All thought flew out of Draco's mind as he tried to process what she said next. "I believe that he still deserves another chance."
"Really? Why do you believe that?"
"Because when we were in the Malfoy Manor, I could see the good in his eyes. I could see the pain, the struggle and the terror in them and I knew he would defect. It was just a matter of when."
Draco's heart hammered against his chest as his face grew too hot for his liking. He bowed his head, chewing on his lip. His eyes stung.
"Thank you, Miss Granger. I think we have all we need."
"That's it?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, I have reviewed what memories I was provided and the case was pretty much in Draco's favour from the start. It was just a formality to go through the witnesses with the defendant and hear his side." Shacklebolt
"Oh."
"Yes, well… you may go now."
"Okay…" Hermione's chair moved back. "Well, thank you. Have a good afternoon."
With that she left. And a hand interrupted his line of sight with a tissue. He sniffled.
It was then that he realised that Hermione had reduced him to tears.