It was finally the day. Draco knew what the outcome of this day would be, no matter how many times Granger and his mother told him differently. He knew the truth, he knew the ministry wasn't going to forgive him for everything he'd done and he knew there was no hope. The rest of his life would be spent in Azkaban and he would never see Granger again and he would never get to tell her that she meant the world to him, like he wanted to. Because he really did want her to know that despite everything he'd done and said she was the only one to believe in him and she was the only one who'd given him a chance. He wanted to thank her for that, to truly thank her, and he might never get the chance.
He'd written her a letter around two that afternoon, to ask if she could come to the ministry early so they could get one final time to talk. It would be their only real chance, because they couldn't exactly talk during the trial and Draco was positive they wouldn't get to talk after it. She hadn't replied and he'd sent the bloody letter two hours ago. Meaning there was only an hour left before the trial actually started, so he was sure he wouldn't get his chance.
He'd hidden out in the library at his house to avoid his mother's attempts at cheering him up. She'd tried to cook, to cook, and she'd never made a thing in her entire life. Draco didn't want her cakes though, and he didn't want the new suit she'd bought him to wear to the trial. The library had been the obvious choice, because his mother tended not to entire the room unless absolutely necessary. It had always been Draco's area, even when his father still lived in the home, and they'd known he hadn't liked people messing it up.
There was a book in his lap but he hadn't read a word on the page. He wanted to write Granger again, to see if she was okay and to ask why she hadn't responded, but he didn't want to sound needy. He knew that was how he'd come across if he wrote that letter, so he'd tried to distract himself. It wasn't working at all but there was nothing he could do. Absolutely nothing, actually, as there were aurors outside the manor to make sure he didn't try to escape and avoid the trial. It was ridiculous. Honestly, if he wanted to go through the trouble of skipping the trial then he would have done it when he'd first found out.
Time continued to pass and Draco was bored out of his mind. It was too late for him to meet Granger before the trial, as he was supposed to be there at half past four and it was already a quarter after four. He knew that getting dressed was the right move to make, especially before his mother finally did enter the room and yell at him to do it, but he didn't feel much like moving. He simply wanted to sit and wait for Granger's reply because that was the only thing that mattered.
Draco groaned and stood up when he heard footsteps approaching the library. He hurried to the door and opened it to find his mother standing in front of him. "Draco you need to-" she began.
"I know. I'm about to do that," he muttered, pushing past her and going to his room. He changed quickly as he didn't give a damn what he looked like, and went downstairs to find his mother pacing by the front entrance. "What are you doing?"
"Waiting for you," she answered, her tone slightly irritated. "We need to leave, right now, or we're going to be late,"
Draco nodded and followed her out the front door. The first thing he noticed was that the aurors were gone. "Where are they?" he asked, not specifying because Draco was sure his mother knew what hew as asking.
"They left about two hours ago,"
"So they deemed I was no longer a flight risk?"
"No, actually. All I know is that something happened and they were needed. They asked me to make sure you didn't leave, and I knew you'd stay in the library for as long as possible,"
"What happened?"
"I don't know, Draco, now don't ask again," she snapped, grabbing his arm and apparating them both to the ministry.
Draco was close to complaining because he knew he could apparate himself, but he stopped when he caught sight of people running around the ministry with panicked expressions on their faces. "Mother-"
"I've no idea, Draco," she said stiffly, pulling him to the welcoming station. They went through the normal procedure and Draco was forced to leave his wand with the grumpy looking wizard, though he knew he wouldn't need it after the trial. He felt miserable; it was almost like walking toward death but Draco knew that going to Azkaban was worse than that.
They waited outside the courtrooms, his mother anxiously trying to smooth his hair and fix his tie. He continued slapping her hands away which only got him angry looks, but he didn't care. He continued to scan the corridor for any sign of Granger's bushy hair, but he didn't see it.
He was too busy with his thoughts of Granger that he didn't notice McGonagall walk over to them. He barely even noticed as she struck up a conversation with his mother, though the words he heard didn't interest him any. He didn't care about what they were saying; what he cared about was where Granger was. She'd promised that she would be there. Maybe she'd finally realized that he wasn't worth the trouble? But Granger didn't seem like the kind of person who would do that. If she decided that she wanted nothing to do with him anymore then she would tell him to his face. She wouldn't hide; Granger wasn't the kind to hide from her problems.
"Are you ready?" his mother asked quietly, once five o'clock came around and it was time for the trial to begin. "Draco, dear, are you ready to go in?"
"Where's Granger?" he asked immediately, looking around with confused eyes. "She promised to be here, so where is she?"
"Mr. Malfoy she's probably just running late," McGonagall said, though she didn't look very sure herself.
"She'll be here, Draco," his mother said.
"But she wouldn't run late for this," he muttered angrily before he walked through the doors. He was immediately led to a chair in the middle of the room, where he sat and stared moodily at the Wizengamot.
And so the trial began. Draco was only half paying attention because he kept his eyes locked on the door unless specifically asked to do otherwise. He couldn't understand where Granger was and why she wasn't running in, apologizing for being late and looking at him with her sad expression. He answered questions when he was asked though often they had to be repeated because he wasn't truly listening. Draco knew it looked bad and from the panicked looks he was getting from his mother, everyone else was thinking so as well. He thought about explaining to the Wizengamot and interrupting the minister, who was asking the questions, but he knew that would look even worse.
"Mr. Malfoy, eyes on me please," a deep voice said, annoyance clear in the voice. Draco looked at the minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and frowned. He didn't speak, as he wasn't supposed to without being directly spoken to.
"You're very distracted," a woman snapped. "Do you even care what's going on right now?"
He was tempted to shout out that no, he didn't care, because Granger wasn't there and he was worried about her, but he held his tongue and glared at the woman. "Answer her, Mr. Malfoy," Shacklebolt instructed.
"I do," he said quietly, fixing his gaze back on the minister.
"Then act like it," the woman said, her voice keeping all of the anger and hatred it held. She, he knew, would definitely want to send him to Azkaban for the rest of his life. Not that he really blamed her, he'd done awful things. It continued on and Draco quickly lost interest again, looking back at the door.
To his surprise, after another five minutes of questions and accusations the door burst open. There was a young man standing in the doorway and panting heavily, his eyes wide and worried. Shacklebolt stood up immediately and narrowed his eyes at the man. "What do you think you're doing? This is an official trial and you are not-"
"I-I'm sorry, Minister," the man said in a high pitched voice. "It's just, you know, with the attack and all-"
"You need to leave, right now," Shacklebolt said. Draco, actually paying attention for once, knew that he would have left at the man's words. Shacklebolt, like McGonagall, wasn't the kind of person you disobeyed. Then again, Draco didn't want the man to leave. He'd mentioned an attack, and Draco had heard nothing about one.
"Sir, please just hear me out," the man pleaded. "Please, I've had the entire Weasley family shouting at me for the past ten minutes and I can't go back to them without what they've asked for,"
"Kingsley, hear the boy out," McGonagall said immediately, her expression one of slight confusion. "Go on, what is it you need?"
"It-It's been requested that Draco Malfoy be brought to St. Mungo's immediately," he stated, his eyes glancing to Draco and his hands beginning to tremble.
"Why?" Shacklebolt asked, frowning deeply.
"H-Harry Potter said that he was involved romantically with Hermione Granger and-"
Draco felt his face warm immediately at the words, but the man now had his full attention. He didn't know why Potter would be at St. Mungo's, he didn't know what this attack talk was about, and he definitely didn't know why Granger was involved. "Your point?" the woman from earlier asked irritably.
"He, and the Weasleys, said that he needed to be brought straight to St. Mungo's. A-Apparently she's worse off than we thought when we got the initial report of who's been injured and they-they don't exactly know if she'll make it,"
Draco stood up immediately, his face going pale. "Granger?" he asked, ignoring the fact that he wasn't supposed to be speaking.
"Sit down, Mr. Malfoy! Be quiet!" a man yelled, but Draco didn't pay him any attention.
"Yes, she's in St. Mungos and-"
"What happened?" he snapped. "What the hell happened?"
"Mr. Malfoy there was an attack on Diagon Alley and Miss Granger was involved," Shacklebolt said. "But we were told she would be fine, so you need to sit back down and we will resume your trial,"
"Obviously she's not bloody fine if Potter's sent for me!" Draco yelled, any attempt at being calm completely forgotten. "I need to see her. I need to-"
Shacklebolt waved his wand once and Draco found himself back in the chair and unable to speak. "We will continue this trial. Do not disrupt this again," he said, his eyes switching between looking at Draco and looking at the man who'd run into the room. "Tell Harry Potter and the Weasleys that we will do our best to get him there, but they do not have the authority to break up a trial and take away the accused,"
The trial lasted another agonizing hour. McGonagall looked pale herself, but she said her piece and presented everything Granger had collected. Draco didn't even try to pay attention to the rest of it; his mind was focused solely on Granger and thinking the worst about what had happened to her. A glance at his mother showed how worried she was, though Draco knew that was simply because his conviction looked definite at this point. He didn't even care; he just wanted the chance to see that Granger was still breathing and hopefully better than the man had made her out to be. He was terrified that something bad had happened to her, and he was rarely terrified for other people.
The words, "Please rise for sentencing," rang through his messy thoughts and he stood numbly, knowing what was coming next. He stared at the woman that had spoken to him, seeing her but not really processing everything that was happening. In his mind's eye he saw Granger laying on a hospital bed, bloody and dying and-He had to stop those thoughts or he was going to cry. It seemed to be his worst fear, at the moment. Not even the threat of Azkaban could compare to how worried he was about Granger. "All those in favor of imprisonment please raise your hands,"
It was two thirds of the Wizengamot. Only two thirds though, Draco had been sure the number would be higher. "Draco Malfoy, you are hereby sentenced to five years imprisonment in Azkaban prison. Guards, please take him away," Shacklebolt said in a cold voice.
Rough hands grabbed his arms before Draco processed the information. "No-No wait!" he shouted, beginning to struggle. "No, wait, you have to let me see her!"
"Stop struggling," one of the guards hissed.
"No! You can't send me there for five years without knowing whether or not she's okay!"
"Mr. Malfoy do not make matters worse for yourself," Shacklebolt said. There was a bit of compassion in his words this time, though they didn't make Draco feel any better.
"No, no please, please let me see her!" he screamed, struggling harder as the guards attempted to drag him out of the room.
"Draco calm down, please!" his mother yelled, adding to the noise and the disruption his was causing.
"No! Please, please, I think I love her-I think I love her-you have to let me see her!"
As the words slipped from his mouth without him meaning them to, Draco felt panic fill his chest. He couldn't go away for five years without at least seeing her because no one would tell him if she was okay. At that moment McGonagall stood up, a furious expression on her face. "Kingsley stop this madness this instant!"
"Minerva, sit down," Shacklebolt commanded. "You do not make the rules here,"
"Kingsley you heard the boy, how he feels. It's downright cruel to send him there without at least seeing her!" McGonagall argued.
There was a heavy silence in which Draco continued to struggle against the men holding him. He had to see her, had to know that she wasn't dead like he feared, and they were preventing him from doing that. Draco was losing his mind, he knew, but what was he to do? If his admitted to himself that he'd truly meant his words about possibly loving her then- "Mr. Malfoy, are you listening?" Shacklebolt asked.
"I-"
"The aurors will accompany you to St. Mungo's. You have two hours and then you will be brought to Azkaban to begin your sentence. Enjoy your last hours of freedom,"
"You-You'd let me-"
"I'm not heartless, Mr. Malfoy. Now go, before you run out of time,"
Before Draco could even think to thank the minister, aurors grabbed his arms and twisted. They landed outside the building that hid St. Mungo's. He was quickly led inside the building and the aurors pushed to the front of the line to get to the Welcome Witch. Draco felt speechless at how quickly this all was happening, so the auror on his left explained that they were there for Hermione Granger.
Draco felt sick as he was told that she was located on the fourth floor. He didn't know what spell had been used on her or how badly it had affected her, but he had his fears. He didn't want to walk up and find a dying Granger, though after the way he'd acted in front of the Wizengamot he knew there was no turning back. "Stop here," one of the aurors said as they approached the ward they'd ben told Granger was in. "I'll check to see if they want you in," The auror was gone for a total of thirty seconds and he came back with an irritated expression on his face. He nodded jerkily toward the ward so Draco took a shaky step forward and pushed the door open.
The first thing that happened was that he was attacked with a hug. Draco tensed immediately before looking down and seeing Elizabeth, Jacob, and Ben clinging to him. "We're so sorry," Elizabeth said. She was always the one to speak up, Draco knew, and he was glad for that in the moment. It gave him the chance to keep quiet. "It's all our fault; if we'd just listened to her then none of this would have happened,"
"It is not your fault," an older woman said sharply. The red hair gave her away and Draco became aware that he was looking at Mrs. Weasley, a woman he never thought he'd meet. She seemed hesitant as she looked at Draco, but after a moment her expression softened and she sighed. "They won't listen to that though, will you tell them?"
"What could you have done?" he whispered, holding the three close to his own body. "She'll be fine,"
"But what if she's not?" Elizabeth asked, her voice panicky as she stepped away and pulled the others with her. "What if it's all our fault because we wouldn't run like she wanted us to?"
"Hermione would never blame you," Potter piped up, his eyes glued on Draco. "Why was an auror with you?" he asked almost as soon as he knew Draco was looking back at him. "You weren't-" he began, but Draco nodded his head. "Well that's going to piss her off when she wakes up,"
"So it's definite then?"
"We refuse to think any other way," Mr. Weasley stated. "Hermione's family, we won't lose her,"
Draco nodded, his comfort level decreasing significantly when he realized that everyone in the room was staring at him. He shifted awkwardly before looking back at Elizabeth as he realized what her words meant. "You three were there then?" he asked quietly, his face warming quickly.
"We were just trying to make Jacob feel better," Ben muttered.
"I'm glad you're all okay then," he said, relieved that at least they were fine. Granger getting hurt was awful enough in and of itself; Draco would have completely lost it if any of the younger kids were hurt.
"How long, Malfoy?" Potter asked eventually, after an uncomfortable silence had stretched on for far too long.
"Five years," he murmured.
Potter let out a sigh and nodded. "At least it's not too long then,"
"Granger's research helped, I think. Will you tell her that? I won't be able to,"
"Of course I will,"
"Why did you need someone to interrupt the middle of my-" he began to ask, but Potter let out a short laugh.
"We couldn't just leave you without any information. You two are-You're-Well I don't actually know what you are, but you're something. You needed to know,"
"And you couldn't wait until after?"
"Obviously not,"
Draco nodded slightly and looked at Elizabeth, who was looking at him worriedly. "Dear, you haven't looked at her yet," Mrs. Weasley said gently.
He frowned, knowing she was right. He'd avoided looking toward the bed they were all grouped around so he wouldn't have to look at Granger. He was afraid of what he would see, though when he did eventually turn his gaze to her he realized it wasn't as bad as he'd imagined. She looked normal, like she was sleeping peacefully. "What happened to her?"
"Do you remember what happened in fifth year? At the ministry?" Potter asked.
"Of course I do," Draco said. That was the first time his father had been sent to Azkaban; he wouldn't forget that.
"Well Hermione was hit with a spell then, that didn't do any damage on the outside but it messed her up really badly internally," Potter explained.
"I know,"
"You know?"
"I wasn't blind, Potter,"
"No, but apparently you were already starting to pay her attention then," he said, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, Malfoy, just how long have you-"
"Shut up," Draco muttered.
"Anyway, when she was hit then she'd silenced the person who'd done it so the spell wasn't as effective. But this time..."
"They used their voice?" he guessed.
Potter nodded and sighed. "It'll be worse this time, a lot worse. The healers said she might not wake up for a few days. Days, Malfoy, it could be days,"
"Right," he nodded, his eyes stuck on Granger then.
Draco ended up sitting beside her, much as she'd done for him in the hospital wing, for the remainder of his two hours with her. It was definitely awkward in the room and it got worse when Elizabeth's parents came to get the three kids as he lost allies, but at least it didn't seem like they hated him. Outright, at least, Draco knew they were probably disgusted by his presence.
When the two hours were up, the two aurors who's brought him to the hospital in the first place walked into the room with grim expressions. "Say your goodbyes, Malfoy," one snapped, probably annoyed that he'd been forced to wait there for so long.
Draco glanced around the room before he stood up and gently grabbed Granger's limp hand. "I wish I could..." he started, but he quickly shook his head and didn't finish the thought. "Thank you for informing me, Potter,"
Potter nodded at him and sighed. "Don't give up in there," he said. "For Hermione. She'll expect an explanation and a story when you get out,"
Draco nodded slightly and walked to the aurors. He refused to turn back around and look one last time at the family he was sure hated him, the boy who'd confused him, and the girl who'd, well, who'd become the most important person in his life. There was a good chance he'd never see them again, and looking would only make the rotten feeling in his stomach worse.
Not even ten minutes later he was sitting in a cell, in a uniform that didn't quite fit, as what little happiness he had began to be stolen by the dementors that had been allowed back into the prison.