They say that breathing is an instinct that starts as soon as the baby leaves the womb. If you think about, no one teaches a baby how to breathe. Babies just... know. And breathing is then a process that continues without a conscious decision for the remainder of your life. But right now, Draco's lungs aren't drawing oxygen into his body; breathing seems like a distant memory. Air hovers in his throat, his heart beating wildly.
Hours seem to pass as he's stuck in this moment, waiting for the decision that will influence the rest of his life. Guilty? Not guilty?
His eyes dart wildly around the room, weighing the emotions on every member of the Wizengamot's faces. Being a Slytherin, identifying people's thoughts and feelings was something he'd learnt from a young age. But, as with his breathing, it seems to be a skill that is failing him right now. He believes it to be failing him because he seems to be seeing sympathy on some of the witches and wizards' faces. Sympathy? For him?
He cringes inwardly. He knows he doesn't deserve sympathy.
'All of those who find Mr Malfoy guilty, please rise.' Unsurprisingly, Darius Broomsley, followed by many others of the gathered witches and wizards, rise to their feet. However, many of the participants also remain seating.
A quick tally is taken and then those who find him innocent are asked to rise.
'That's twenty-four for guilty and eighteen for not guilty, Minister,' announces a small witch with an even smaller voice at Kingsley's side. Her glasses are far to large for her thin face.
'So eight of you have declined to vote. May you now please rise.' Three wizards and five witches rise from their seats tentatively, looking timidly around at the angry and confused faces of their peers. 'I would like to understand why you have abstained from voting on the outcome of Mr Malfoy's trial?' asks Kingsley, directing his question at those standing.
The largest of the three men is the first to speak. 'I speak only for myself when I say this, but I feel that Mr Malfoy's case is not as clear-cut as guilty or not guilty, Minister. Mr Malfoy has been charged for several crimes, several of which he has not been proven guilty for, but he has openly admitted to some of the charges. I do not believe him to be innocent, and therefore do not think it fair that he walk away from this trial without any punishment. Saying that, I also don't believe he should face the kind of punishment that may be placed upon him should the trial be concluded with a guilty verdict. I believe some middle-ground should be available here.'
Nodding from the other seven standing magical folk show that they concur.
'Interesting point.' Draco tries to tamper down the hope fluttering in his chest.
'Minister, if I may-'
'-Yes, Mr Broomsley?' The hope in his chest deflates promptly. This can't be good.
'Correct me if I'm wrong, but I do believe that the majority vote is taken within these proceedings? If my maths is correct, twenty-four votes to guilty is a majority over eighteen votes to not guilty.'
Kingsley Shacklebolt seems to hold back a tut of annoyance. 'I'm sure it comes to no surprise that your maths is correct in this circumstance, Darius. However, we currently have eight undecided members who have proposed an alternative sentence. As Minister of Magic, I'm choosing to hear there proposal out. Do you have any complaints with this?'
Darius clearly has some complaints with this, but keeps his mouth shut, retaking his seat.
'Thank you,' says Kingsley, a hint of smugness in his deep voice. 'Aldar Mavins. You have suggested an alternative vote. A half-guilty, if you will. What would your proposed punishment for said sentence involve?'
Aldar Mavins, the larger man of the three non-voters seems slightly taken aback at such a question. 'I really don't think it's my place to say,' he admits.
'Well, for the purpose of this trial, I would like to hear your thoughts, if you will.'
Aldar nods slowly, thinking. 'Well, if it were up to me, I believe that imprisonment in Azkaban would be too harsh. The boy has clearly changed, and, in my eyes, he's already gone some way into trying to make up for his mistakes. I don't think that sending someone who fought for us in the Battle of Hogwarts to Azkaban would be a just thing to do. In terms of punishment for his crimes, I believe a form of community service - a Muggle convention in which convicts perform a variety of tasks to benefit the community - may be a start. Wasn't Mr Malfoy in the process of helping to rebuild Hogwarts when he was taken into custody?'
'Yes, he was,' answers Kingsley.
'Well I think a certain amount of hours spent helping the remaining work would be a start... I also believe a fine should be imposed, the funds from which could be used to help those affected by the war.' Murmurs of agreement resound around the room. 'Going forwards, I think regular meetings with someone from the Ministry to make sure he is not straying back to his former ways would be a good idea. I think it's quite clear that he regrets his previous actions more than anything... I think he deserves a second chance.'
Silence follows the wizard's proclamation.
'Community service?' Everyone's eyes shoot to Darius, who's voice rises with every word. 'A fine? Regular appointments with a Ministry official? Are you serious? This man is a murderous, evil piece of scum who would be lucky if he got to spend the remainder of his days in Azkaban with his soul intact.' Shocked gasps greet the statement.
'What's your problem?' demands Hermione, who Draco watches as she stands up, eyes drilling holes into Darius. 'You know nothing about Draco! How dare you make such disgusting accusations and insults towards him?'
'What's my problem, you ask?' yells Darius, incredulous. 'My problem is that I'm watching one of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named's top recruits potentially walking free! Just because he managed to weasel his way into your pants and you've decided that he's hot enough to be worthy of your forgiveness doesn't mean he's worthy of everyone else's!'
Hermione's cheeks turn a shade of red similar to that of Ron's hair. Ron and Harry stand up beside their friend, reaching for their wands subtly. 'How dare you! How dare you!' she screams, her hair flying wildly around her face.
'Mr Broomsley, I have heard quite enough of your opinions on this matter,' interrupts Kingsley, who seems quite aware of the duel about to break out in the courtroom.
'I'm sure you have, Minister. You'd love to see him walk free, wouldn't you?'
'Mr Broomsley, that is it. You are officially being removed from this trial. The case you provided will be taken into consideration, but your further input is no longer required and your vote is being discounted. Now, please kindly remove yourself from my courtroom. Right. Now.' Kingsley's tone suggests that any further argument would be foolish.
But apparently Darius is not only an angry man, but he is also a foolish man. 'My son was murdered by these Death Eaters! My little boy! Why? Because his mother was a Muggle! For all I know, this boy, this snake, standing in front of me right now could have been one of those involved in the murder! And you expect me to stand by quietly as he gets released! Just because he's changed? Just because he was young and made mistakes? My son was young and he made no mistakes and he's dead! And you expect me to watch as he walks free? I didn't think you were the type to have a sense of humour, Kingsley, but that's the funniest thing I've heard in years!' A crazy glint takes over Darius' gaze. 'If you won't deal with this murderer appropriately, then I will!'
Time seems to stand still as chaos erupts around the room. Draco watches in frozen shock as Darius raises his wand, directing it at him. Magically bound to the chair, he can do nothing to defend himself as a nasty-looking red spark blooms from the tip of the wand, snaking across the room in jagged bolts of light. Draco doesn't recognise the spell that Darius yelled at him, but he knows it's going to cause him a long, painful death. Part of him wishes the spell speeding towards him would flash green: a killing curse. At least then his death would be quick.
His eyes frantically seek out Hermione, wanting her to be the last thing he sees before succumbing to the inevitable.
But the sight that greets him is not one he wanted. Hermione is pushing her way across the room, rage and panic on her face. She moves at almost super-human speed, a crazy dazzle in her eyes. He vaguely recognises that she's yelling his name, but his senses are numb; numb to everything but her. She flings her body in front of him, throwing her arms wide in a protective stance. Draco wants to yell at her to move; he wants to say something, do anything that will get her out of the way. But his voice fails him, and he watches in painful shock as the red stream of light collides with her trembling body.
Ice floods his bloodstream as he stares at her limp body collapsing to the floor. Fire fills his heart as he watches crimson blood blossom grotesquely from several lacerations across her chest and stomach.
Draco doesn't stop to question who lifts the spell binding him to the chair as he feels the magical force release him. Draco doesn't stop to consider the potential ramifications of him being freed in the trial as he projects his body out of the chair. Draco doesn't stop to worry about any other deadly spells possibly being fired at him by Darius. Draco only stops when he reaches Hermione's rapidly paling body on the floor.
Two other pairs of hands collide with his as he lifts her into his arms, staring helplessly at the wounds littering her frail body.
Hermione's eyes role slightly back into her head and Draco's heart stops beating. In his peripheral vision, he can see Ron and Harry crowded round the two of them.
'Hermione! Hermione!' He can hear her name being shouted and he thinks he recognises his own voice in the mix.
Her eyes pull momentarily back into focus. 'Hermione!' This time he knows it's his own voice. 'You jumped in front of the spell!' he yells, incredulous.
'I... guess that... m-makes us... even,' she whispers, her voice barely louder than Draco's rapidly beating heart.
Her eyes close and Draco knows for a fact that the pain he's feeling right now is worse than any Cruciatus Curse that could be cast on him.
'Hermione!' he shrieks, his voice shredding his throat on the way out. Tears fill in his eyes, blurring his vision and he aggressively blinks them away. He forces himself to tear his gaze away from Hermione, seeking out instead the man who'd hurt her. The man Draco is about to hurt.
Draco watches as Darius is restrained by those around him. Several other witches and wizards are running towards Hermione, clearly hoping to help her. Draco rises slowly, menacingly to his feet, his eyes trained on Darius' face. He is going to watch the light drain from Darius' face, the way Darius had forced him to watch the light drain from Hermione's.
Kingsley Shacklebolt turns around, noticing Draco approaching. He shouts something to Draco, something about not doing anything stupid. But Draco doesn't feel stupid. He feels oddly calm, as if all of the emotion had drained out of him... he feels empty. Around him, he can feel a dark energy gathering, a dark energy that he recognises as the parts of himself he'd denied for so long.
Even without his wand, Draco knows the power circling around him right now is stronger than that of most of those in the room. Shrieks pierce the air and he wonders idly whether the magic gathering around him is visible to the others.
The forces around him swirl faster, begging to be released. Draco waits until Darius meets his eyes, the terror in those disgusting brown pupils visible. Then he releases his darkness.
Author's Notes: There you go! What do you all think? I've been searching the internet for ages for some guidance as to how magical trials compare to Muggle trials, but other than the limited information about Harry's trial, there's not much that explains how the decision-making and voting works so I hope you all don't mind my take on things.
As always, please leave a review :)
