Note: I'm sorry this chapter took so long to post! I'd hoped to post it last Friday, but RL required me, and so I wasn't able to. I also reread it and knew I wanted to change some things, so that took some time. Beta thanks to eilonwy, and again, I added about 500 words that she never saw, so any mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy!

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Chapter Six

November 4

It had been a slow five weeks since the second interview in the Quibbler, and this particular week was especially trying. It wasn't just that things at work had been a bit tense since her break-up with Luc. They weren't in the same department, but they shared a floor and bumped into each other at least once a day. He was more upset about it than she'd anticipated; apparently he had been more invested than she'd been. She felt a little badly, but couldn't force herself to care.

She felt constantly on edge. Luna had sent three more updates since the interview, each one giving little more than an estimate of how many signatures Draco and Blaise had collected. But she hadn't heard from Luna in over two weeks, and Hermione knew they'd been close then.

So it was with some consternation that she prepared to face another weekend in the dark about what was going on at home. She'd taken to buying the Prophet every day, scouring each page for anything she could learn, but they had yet to print a single word. Still! After all the months of Draco's efforts, it was outrageous.

The lack of news had her feeling quite unsettled, and so she'd decided to get out of Lyon for the weekend. She'd planned a visit to Switzerland and was giddy at the thought of no demands on her time and a chance to get our of her head and stop thinking about the Law and home and Draco—hopefully. She just had to get through the day.

At lunchtime, Hermione went out with some co-workers to celebrate a birthday. They were gone for over two hours, and when Hermione returned, she discovered three memos informing her that she had mail. She rushed to the Owlery, a sense of foreboding washing over her. The only mail she ever got at work was from Luna, and given the amount of time since her last message, Hermione just knew this one would be important.

When she saw Luna's hasty printing on the envelope, Hermione's heart began to race and she tore into the letter.

It's happening tonight. Half-past six. The Ministry isn't announcing anything, but we've published a notice and bought airtime to tell people. It's obvious they don't want anyone to know about it. But I thought you should.

Hermione looked at her watch; it read quarter after two. She had just enough time to make it, if she hurried, provided traffic wasn't too bad.

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Hermione slipped unnoticed into a seat near the back of the auditorium. She'd been a few minutes late, thanks to an accident on the M20, but the Right Honorable Witch was still speaking, welcoming everyone and thanking them for their attendance, despite the late notice. Hermione thought she seemed rather like she didn't mean a word she said. The room was packed; it looked like Luna's efforts to alert people to the meeting had been successful.

The Lesser Court had prepared a defense. They presented their argument, everything that had always been said about the Law and its necessity, first. It was long and droll and Hermione thought she'd come out of her seat, she was so angry. They even presented witnesses, two couples who'd married quickly after being matched. One was already expecting a child. Both couples seemed very happy. However, it was obvious that they'd wanted to be together before the Law, and that blood status had kept them apart.

After the defense was presented, the Right Honorable Witch, with very little introduction, presented Draco.

Hermione's heart started pounding as she watched him stand and walk to the podium. No one made a sound. After a moment, Hermione realized she was holding her breath. He was too far away for her to really see his face, but everything about him was the same. The shock of his hair, the hard lines of his face, the way he stood—they were so familiar, and had become quite dear.

He took a breath, then looked around the room. She felt so conspicuous that she was sure he would see her, as though there were no one else there with them—despite being surrounded by what had to be two hundred people. But he didn't; his eyes swept past her, unseeing. Then he began.

"Three nights ago, I needed... well, more signatures. Twenty-one, to be exact. I couldn't think of anyone else to approach. Blaise and I, we've been at this for a long while, and I literally couldn't think of a name I hadn't thought of before. I couldn't think of where to look for new names, who to ask for new names. Nothing. Even in my dreams—or perhaps they were nightmares—I couldn't conjure a new name. I knew Blaise had struck out as well. We were completely blank, at a loss for where to turn next."

He paused, unwilling to fight the slight smile that appeared. "My mother came into the sitting room where I was pacing, wracking my brain. She encouraged me to check the numbers again, and when I did, I saw that somehow, in the previous few hours, we had gathered twenty signatures! We only needed one more. One. She then proceeded to tell me she had decided that I was right to be doing what I'm doing. More important to me, more relevant to my story, she said she didn't want to remain quiet when there was something she could do—something right."

Draco looked down at his notes. "Then my father came in, and he very casually mentioned that I had never asked either of them to sign the petition." He shook his head. "I was still processing his words, too stunned to think, when my mother pulled out the parchment from the Quibbler and signed it. She was the one thousandth signature. Then my father signed it as well, just to show that he supported me, even though I didn't need one thousand and one. I'd never asked them. It had never occurred to me. I … I was part of the problem, you see. I had assumed that they couldn't change their minds. They'd been entrenched in blood supremacy dogma since they were born, so how could they possibly see things differently?"

He chuckled wryly. "My attitude and those like it perpetuate the prejudices of the pure-blood class, of which my family are stalwart members. But I'd neglected to consider one very important detail: my parents love me. They want good things for me. And so, over these months, as I worked to gain support for our petition, as they questioned me and I responded—albeit defensively at best, antagonistically more often—something in them began to soften.

"You all know my history. My parents' history. You know that my father was a Death Eater, that I—" His voice hitched just a tiny bit. "That I have been forgiven for so much. We fought in a war on the wrong side because we thought blood was so important. Yet that night, three nights ago, my father told me he wouldn't interfere if I wanted to marry a Muggle-born, as long as I was happy. Just imagine—a Muggle-born with the Malfoy name. Centuries of beliefs, one of the oldest, purest lines in England, and they'd welcome a Muggle-born, so long as I loved her."

Draco again scanned the room. "I'll be honest. I wasn't convinced this would work. All the way up to nine hundred seventy-nine signatures, and still I had doubts that anything we did could begin to make the kind of change that is necessary, to change the very fabric of our society. But then my mother worked to get twenty signatures, and my parents signed the petition. And now, I am absolutely convinced that it's possible. I've seen it. They love me. And I know every one of you here loves someone who is affected by this law.

"I'm asking that you act on that love, not just to overturn this awful law, but to begin to change your own hearts and get rid of this idiotic class system based arbitrarily on something no one has any control over: where and to whom they're born.

"You heard today from two couples who were called by our opponents, two couples being touted as Marriage Law success stories. I want to suggest to you that they say more for our argument than theirs. Two couples who, when unburdened of the restraints foisted on them by their parents and high, pure-blood society, were able to pursue someone previously considered 'unworthy.' They are the happiest among us today, not because they got lucky with their matches, but because they were freed to follow their hearts. We don't need a Marriage Law to do that for us. We need the courage to walk across the divide, to realize that the old traditions are just that. Traditions. We'd be a better people, a stronger people, for it. Thank you."

A gasp escaped Hermione's lips, but she wasn't the only one. Cheers sounded in clusters throughout the room, and talking started at once.

The Right Honorable Witch banged her gavel until the room went quiet. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. The court will now adjourn to deliberate. A chime will sound throughout the building when we've reached a decision."

"Madam?" Draco had returned to his seat but had remained standing.

"Yes?" She gave him a severe look.

"There is also the matter of the conviction of sedition against Miss Granger that we are petitioning to be overturned."

"Yes. We're aware." She banged the gavel once more and then all the members of the Lesser Court rose and filed from the room.

Conversations once again broke out around her, but Hermione couldn't take her eyes off Draco. She wished she could go to him, but she was still considered a fugitive. And besides, what could she possibly say? 'Thank you' fell woefully short of how she felt. Even if they didn't win, what Draco had done was far more than anything anyone had ever done for her. And he had no idea that her heart had turned toward him that day when he'd found her at the café. That with every article, she had respected him more and more. That the sight of him now made her heart race and her palms sweat and her throat go dry.

Hermione watched as a few people approached him, including a strikingly beautiful woman with long, straight brown hair. They embraced and then began to speak closely. Hermione's breath caught as she noted that the woman's body language screamed desire. Perhaps Draco had found someone else after all, and had really given up all hope of her. Thanks to Luna, Hermione knew he hadn't been forced to marry before the deadline, but he could have started a relationship with someone. The woman was clearly a close acquaintance at the very least. Blaise soon joined them, and she hugged him too, but not with the same intimacy.

Hermione decided she needed some air, so she went to the loo. Afterward, she splashed cold water on her face, trying to still her mind. She'd been truly foolish to think he might hold the same regard for her after all this time when she'd done her best upon their lone meeting to quash his feelings. Of course he'd moved on. Of course he had. She'd seen it in writing repeatedly. She'd just never exactly believed it. Hope had lodged itself deep within her.

She picked up the pieces of her aching heart and left the loo. Without much thought, she wandered the halls, heading always away from the courtroom. It wouldn't do to be seen by anyone who might recognize her, and she couldn't risk using her wand while inside the Ministry. With some effort, she found an empty, quiet hallway which branched off another quiet hallway to sit in and think while she waited for the decision. The hall itself was empty but after a few minutes, she heard a voice around the corner she knew all too well.

"Son, do you mean to tell me you've got no contingency?" It was Lucius Malfoy. Hermione's heart started pounding and she sought refuge behind a potted plant. She was fairly well hidden, and unless they turned down the hall she was in, they likely wouldn't notice her.

"What do you mean, Father?" Draco replied. Hermione shut her eyes tight, wishing she could disappear.

"I mean, what happens next? What about your appointment in January?" Lucius sounded concerned.

"Yes, that. I suppose if this doesn't go my way, I'll be using Hermione's contingency plan."

Her heart skipped a beat. They were so close, she held her breath. Then they stopped; she could just see the hem of someone's cloak.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Lucius asked.

"I'll leave England," he replied easily, as though he'd considered the possibility already. "I won't be showing up in January with a witch to marry. After all I've done to fight this law, how could I? It would be a betrayal, not only to myself, but to everyone who worked with me, who signed the petition. Maybe I'll go to Spain after all."

"Spain? Now, Son, we aren't seriously going to ask you to find a bride in Spain," Lucius remarked.

"I know," Draco replied. "It was an attempt at humor. Dark humor. Who knows? Maybe I'll go to... to France."

The way Draco said it made her almost gasp. She had to bite her lip to keep quiet. It must have made in impact on Lucius, as well.

"Why, Draco?" he asked carefully. "What's in France?"

Draco laughed. "Perhaps Charlotte de Hauteterre has a great-great-grand cousin who's available."

Lucius let out a breath, as did Hermione. "I thought … this was all done for her, to … to win her over."

Draco sighed. "Who, Hermione? I didn't do this to win her over. I have no idea if she even knows this is happening, Father. How would I?"

"You've … not been in contact with her then," Lucius said heavily, something like dread lacing his words.

"No," Draco replied firmly. "As I've said to everyone who has asked me! This isn't about her. Perhaps you thought that once this was over, if the court ruled in my favor, I'd go on a grand adventure to find her? To tell her that I'd single-handedly battled all the bureaucratic forces at the Ministry for her? And then she'd simply fall into my arms and return home with me?"

Lucius chuckled lowly. "You've quite an imagination, Son."

"You've no idea," Draco mumbled.

The chime sounded then. "That was quick," observed Lucius. "Not a good sign."

Draco sighed. "No, it's not. Before we go back, I just want to say that I wish… I wish many things had gone differently. But if they had, I wouldn't be here. Now. Doing this. And there's nothing I would change about this journey, even if I could. I have to go. See you after."

Hermione heard them both walk away and once she was certain she wouldn't be noticed, she hurried to find a seat.

The Right Honorable Witch was back at her seat, the court filing into theirs. The room was silent. When everyone was seated, the Right Honorable Witch began.

"The Marriage Law is one of the oldest in the country, predating even the Wizengamot. Its contingencies allow for its use at any time the population is threatened. It's been used a handful of times over the last six hundred years because, according to Mr. Malfoy, wizarding kind can't seem to fix the actual problem."

She stopped and looked pointedly at Draco. "After all that we put you through to get to this hearing, I wish I could say that this was a difficult decision. I wish I could say that we'd argued and wrestled with the facts, that we'd deliberated for hours. Bear witness that it took only forty minutes. I believe it was the fastest decision in the history of this Court.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini, please rise."

They did so. Hermione couldn't look at Draco then, instead keepingher eyes fixed on the Right Honorable Witch as she addressed Draco.

"The Lesser Court has heard you, twice now. And we thank you for your efforts to bring this matter before us. I admit, I thought you were on a fool's errand, something spurred by wounded pride or spurned love—likely both. Instead, I have watched you swallow that pride, humble yourself, and walk a very difficult road, mostly alone. Still, it wasn't until very recently, this week, in fact, that I questioned the outcome of this hearing. Mr. Malfoy, the Court was deeply moved by your testimony here today. We do know your story, and that of your parents. They both came to us this week and spoke positively of your efforts. You are right: if one of the oldest pure-blood families in this country can begin to not simply peek over but instead actively tear down the walls that divide us, then we all can. Congratulations. We've found in your favor."

The room erupted. Draco and Blaise hugged each other, grinning. Hermione couldn't breathe normally, she was so overcome.

The Right Honorable Witch banged her gavel. The room quieted, but it couldn't be completely silenced. "All marriages bound by the Law are hereby annulled, effective immediately. Anyone wishing to appeal this and remain married has seven days; the appeals will be granted."

Another chorus of cheers went up.

Hermione noticed that Draco was still watching the Right Honorable Witch, expectant.

"On the … other matter," she continued, her smile faltering, "that of the trial and conviction of Miss Granger, we are unable to rule, as it falls under the purview of the Wizengamot."

Draco's face fell a fraction and only for an instant before he'd masked his disappointment.

"However, the Chief Warlock joined our deliberations and informed us that all charges and convictions against Hermione Granger have been dropped. She is no longer an enemy of the Ministry and if she chooses to return, it will be with our most sincere apologies."

Draco's expression was triumphant at last. He nodded to the Right Honorable Witch.

"It is our earnest desire to see your vision realized, Mr. Malfoy. Your work has only just begun. Thank you. We're adjourned."

Draco clapped Blaise on the shoulder, and the beautiful woman from before returned to his side before Hermione's view of them was obscured. She blinked, astonished at what had just happened. She felt … untethered. This whole meeting had been about her, and yet it wasn't. Her presence, her input, had not been required, to weigh in on the matter in which she was a principal player. It was strange, knowing that she was a primary victor in the decision, while not being required to be present. As before, she felt extremely conspicous, as though everyone around her would turn to her and congratulate her. Naturally, that didn't happen, as no one around her knew who she was. No one even knew she was there.

The realization struck her that this night was about Draco, not her; the victory was his, not hers. She was simply a lucky recipient of part of his success. This knowledge settled her a little, it took some of the weight off her heart. She had much to be thankful for, of course, but Draco had not done this for her. And that made all the difference.

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A/N: Thanks for reading!