Oh, Katie would be so upset with her. Only hours ago, she'd promised this wouldn't happen, and now here she was, climbing the short staircase up to her room. With Harry. After she'd kissed him. Hermione had given up trying to figure out the meaning behind her actions, because she knew if she gave it too much thought, she'd change her mind. She'd already spent longer than she should have rolling around in bed and trying to gather the courage to ask him in the first place.

She shouldn't have kissed him. She shouldn't have told Harry it was okay the other night. All she could think about, though, was how kissing him had made her feel so good, so safe, and it confirmed that he still wanted her, too. But right now wasn't the time. She was getting better, still relying on the Dreamless Sleep Potion to get adequate rest, but during the day, she found herself a little happier. Without the constant reminders of the battle and a lot of the students back home, it was easier for her to breathe. She had even fixed things, for the most part, with Lavender. Hermione was starting to get nervous, though. The full moon was coming up, and though Madam Pomfrery had plenty of potion, no one had any advice for Lavender about what to expect, and she could tell with each coming day, Lavender threatened to lash out again. Not just at Hermione, but at anyone, though no one blamed her, and Hermione desperately wanted to fix it. If nothing else, maybe after all the trials were over, she could look for resources. There had to be something. There simply had to be.

At the moment, however, Lavender was the furthest thing from her mind. Her heart was racing; she hadn't thought this through, and she hated that Harry could do that to her. He'd made her illogical and spontaneous when they were together, two of her least favorite things. She rubbed her arms, looking back at him every few seconds until they were in the spare bedroom, and Hermione was standing nervously by the door. "Can I… can I close this?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah sure," Harry shrugged, moving to sit on the bed. "You don't have to be nervous, Hermione."

"I'm not…"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You are, I can tell. I'm not expecting anything."

Hermione's shoulders dropped. "You're not?"

"Of course not. This is… you asked me here."

"I know."

Sighing softly, Harry stood from the bed and rested his hands on Hermione's shoulders. "Do you want me to go back to Ron's room?" She shook her head quickly. "Okay, let's just… hang out tonight then."

"Hang out?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"I… well, I brought some sleep potion, so I should be fine sleeping, but I kind of just… miss lying in bed with you," she admitted to his chest.

"I miss that too," Harry muttered. He reached up to twirl a stray piece of hair around his finger, and Hermione closed her eyes.

"I don't think I can kiss you again, Harry."

"I know."

"But I want to."

"I know."

Finally gathering her courage, she took Harry's hand and led him back to the bed, lying down and pushing the covers to the side for him to climb in, which he did without hesitation. He slid his glasses off and set them on the nightstand before pulling Hermione to his chest. At the sound of his steady heartbeat, her eyes closed as she breathed him in. Her arm found its way around his stomach, and her legs tangled with his. This felt like home.

And she hated it.

She hated that she only felt whole when she and Harry were wrapped around each other. She hated it for herself, because it made it that much harder to deny herself this every night. She knew it was hard for him, too.

Before she could think about it much longer, a large, fluffy orange blob sprinted from underneath the bed, leapt on top of Harry, who let out a gasp of surprise before realizing the source, and settled down deftly onto his chest.

"Hi, Crookshanks," he breathed, and Hermione fell even more in love at the sight of her favorite animal curled up with her favorite person. Harry reached up to scratch the cat behind the ears, and Crookshanks immediately began purring like mad. "I missed you, too."

"I'd nearly thought he'd run off," Hermione explained. "I guess with all the people, he was hiding out in here since this is where I always sleep. When I came in to get ready for bed, I was assaulted," she laughed.

"Well, like mother, like son, right? You usually tackle me with a hug every time you see me, too."

Hermione laughed, resting her head back on the pillow next to Harry's before scooting away a little. She couldn't get too comfortable. She couldn't get used to this. She shouldn't be doing this in the first place, but she already was.

It's sort of fun, isn't it? Breaking the rules. She'd said that years ago, but she mustn't have been thinking clearly. There was a reason rules existed. In cases like this, she'd put these rules in place to protect herself, her emotions, and her sanity, so what about Harry was so enticing that in moments of weakness, all those rules went out the window? Of course, she wasn't about to make a list, because if she did, she'd know exactly what about Harry was so enticing, and she shouldn't be thinking about that.

Why couldn't she just be like Crookshanks? Crookshanks didn't have to worry about showing anyone affection. He could curl up on Harry's chest all day and no one would bat an eye. She kept her eyes on Harry for a moment, watching him from her position on the pillow, watching the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the way his hair was getting long enough again to fall into his face.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," he muttered, siding his gaze to hers.

"That would be a bad idea," Hermione whispered back.

"Why's that?"

"Because…" she sighed, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter."

"You're going to have to stop doing that, you know."

"What?"

"Not saying what you're feeling. You think just pretending it doesn't exist is going to make it go away."

Against her better judgment, Hermione reached over to play with his hair. "Isn't that what we're both doing right now?"

"Yeah, and how well is that working?"

Hermione's thoughts drifted to the way he'd kissed her only hours ago, the kiss she hadn't been able to stop thinking about since. "It's not," she sighed. "Your avoidance plan clearly isn't working."

"Oh, my plan's not working?" Harry smiled.

"That's what I said." She rolled over and tangled their legs together again, fighting the (very strong) urge to drag her leg up over his thigh, maybe straddle him… A frustrated sigh blew across Harry's face, and he tried not to shift too much at the look Crookshanks was giving him from two inches in front of his face. But he could tell by Hermione's slight twitch what was exactly on her mind. For the second time, she thought that maybe Harry had a point.

Harry swallowed audibly. "And… and yours is working so much better?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Harry. We were laying like this before."

"I… I know, but… you… I can feel…" He could swear Crookshanks's eyes narrowed even further as if daring him to move and disturb him. Hermione could hear Harry's heart beating faster, and for some reason, it was almost like an invitation.

An invitation she couldn't accept.

This was good practice, right? A lesson in controlling her urges. She wouldn't be able to avoid Harry forever, and it was better to get all of this out of the way now. If she could never be intimate with him again, she'd have to accept that. Eventually, she'd get over it, she knew, but if she didn't work for it, she'd never get to that place. So she'd push herself, ignore the throbbing, ignore the way her entire body was screaming at her to give in, ignore the fact that she knew this was probably torturing Harry, too, and ignore how easy it would be to give in. Neither of them would say no if the opportunity presented itself, and that was probably the scariest thing.

"Hermione…" She couldn't tell if it was a plea to stop or keep going, but sometime during her thoughts, she'd pressed herself against his thigh, tightening her legs to keep him there and threatening to use him to rut against until she couldn't take it anymore.

"Sorry," she breathed, loosening her grip and swallowing down the whine in the back of her throat, but her gaze didn't leave his lips. No. If she kissed him, all rational thought would be gone. Out the window.

"Are we done breaking rules?"

"We should be."

"But are we?"

How Harry could keep his head on straight, she had no idea. She knew this was absolutely her decision. It always was. Crookshanks even stood, stretched, and jumped down from Harry's chest, and he took a deep breath. He wouldn't say no, he couldn't say no. But for her own sake, this was the first hurdle, the first step.

"Yes."

"Okay," Harry squeaked out. Definitely not the response he wanted, which made it even harder to not change her mind.

"We need a new plan."

"How about we take our potion and go to sleep?"

Hermione nodded softly, pulling away. "That's… that's probably the best idea…" Just as she rolled over to grab the vials that were sitting on the nightstand, she heard a distant rumble outside the window, and stilled. "What was that?"

Harry was already sitting up, halfway out of the bed with his glasses back on. "I heard it, too."

Hermione took a deep breath, carefully getting up to peer through the curtain, but it was too dark outside to see anything. "We're safe here, aren't we?"

"Of course we are."

"Then why do you have your wand out?"

"Just in case."

Grabbing hers from the table as well, Hermione could feel her chest tighten with nerves, a very drastic difference from how she'd been feeling a few moments ago. Her hands were already sweating, and she quickly wiped them on her pants before gripping her wand tightly again.

They stood for a few moments, still as statues, waiting and ready. Crookshanks carefully wound himself around Hermione's ankles, rubbing up against her leg, but she barely felt it. A loud bang like someone Apparating into the front garden had Harry and Hermione running out of the room and down the many stairs until they were outside and had their shields up.

Within a few seconds, they were already soaked from the downpour they hadn't seen outside the window. More people were Apparating and Disapparating as spells of various colors soared across the sky.

Harry shot a spell of his own in the direction of a body as its form flashed into view, and debris exploded into the air.

"Lumos Maxima! I still can't see anything! Harry, where are they!?" Hermione cried, shooting spells in whatever direction noise was coming from, which was everywhere. Whoever it was seemed to be getting closer, the booms getting louder, the flashing lights getting brighter. Hermione felt like she was going to pass out.

"Kids!"

Harry shot out a spell streaking blue light in the direction of the voice, but it deflected off a shield coming from Arthur.

"Arthur, you're not safe! Get back inside!" Harry looked over his shoulder for more movement.

"It's just a storm! There's no one out here!" he yelled just loud enough for them to hear over another crack of…

Thunder.

Hermione blinked away either rain or tears - she could tell which - and gasped as her brain caught up with Arthur's words. The rushing died down. The booms became more sporadic. The colors in the sky faded into white flashes of lighting that illuminated the clouds. It seemed like Harry was having the same realization. Had their minds really turned something as simple as a storm into a full-blown attack?

Hermione buried herself in Harry's chest, gripping his shirt as she breathed him in. He was grounding, even though his heart was beating as fast as her own. He was panting, but he hugged her tightly, protecting her from herself.

Arthur cautiously approached, ushering them to follow. "Come on inside. I'll make you some tea. I promise you're safe. But you don't need to stay out here in the rain."

Eventually, after a few tense seconds, Hermione could hear Harry's breathing even out, his heart rate drop a little, and, arm still wrapped around her, he walked her shaking form back into the house.

Arthur was just as soaked as they were, but he only used his jacket to wipe the rain off his head and dry his hair a little before setting them down on the couch and handing them a pile of blankets. They didn't bother drying themselves; Hermione just slid herself into Harry's lap and pressed as close to him as possible.

Moments later, Arthur was handing over two steaming mugs of tea. Even the smell was comforting, and Hermione pulled away from Harry only to take the mug into her hands. They were still a little shaky, but Arthur had seemed to account for that and hadn't filled it up as much as he had Harry's.

"Drink up," he ordered with a soft smile.

"Thank you, Arthur," Harry managed, taking a sip of his tea and relaxing immediately, taking a deep breath.

Hermione blew on hers a couple times before taking a couple gulps. She'd never been so thankful for a Calming Draught, but she wasn't sure the Weasleys would have enough on hand to keep Harry and Hermione's panic in check. "Where's Ron?"

Arthur frowned a little in confusion as he sat down in an armchair across from them. "Still asleep. I guess he took his potion already. I was worried he'd be out there with you."

Right. Harry was supposed to be in Ron's room. "Oh, yeah, I was… about to take mine when Hermione came running in. I heard the noises too and ran outside with her."

"I'm just glad you two are okay."

"I was so scared," Hermione whispered, downing half the tea and resting her head against Harry's shoulder until her hands stopped shaking. "It… it really felt like…"

Harry switched mugs to his other hand to wrap an arm around Hermione, rubbing her shoulder. "I know… was that a…?"

"A panic attack, it seems," Arthur answered. "It was only a matter of time, unfortunately. It's something we'll all have to deal with for a while, I'm sure."

"You've had them, too?"

Arthur let out a sigh and nodded. "After the first war, we all did. Everyone in the Order was very familiar with them."

"What did you do?" Hermione asked, sitting up a little straighter.

"We found a mind healer. A, uh… what do Muggles call them? You talk things through and they help you cope?"

"A therapist?"

"Ah! Yes, that's the one. St. Mungo's has a whole department of mind healers."

"Do you think… do you think one would come to Hogwarts? I mean, I think we would all benefit. Especially with all these trials and hearings going on."

"It would be worth a shot," Arthur shrugged. "I'll speak with Minerva tomorrow to see what can be arranged, if they haven't started already. I don't want a repeat of tonight if you two happen to be alone."

Harry nodded in agreement, finishing off his tea while Hermione finished hers. When they were both done, he rubbed Hermione's arm again. "Ready to go back to bed?"

"Yes."

"All right." He pushed the blanket off of them and Hermione shivered a little at the cold, but eager to get into bed with Harry again, she quickly stood.

"Thank you again, Arthur. We'll see you in the morning?"

"I'll be right up behind you."

There was no hesitation in both of them taking their potions as soon as they got back into Hermione's room. Crookshanks stuck his head out from under the bed and jumped back up on top of the covers once they were settled with Hermione's back pressed against Harry's chest, his arms around her, and the blankets pulled up to their chins. They were silent, realizing that talking any more after the emotional rollercoaster of the last hour would probably just make things worse. Right now, they were focusing on what made them comfortable and not worrying about the consequences for once.

When Hermione woke up the next morning with Harry's arms still around her and Crookshanks curled up against her stomach, she briefly wondered how long she could stay in bed until someone would come get her. Draco's hearing wasn't until later that morning, so they had a little bit of time, and Hermione was perfectly content waking up like this again. She really had missed it, and the potion had allowed her to sleep soundly without worrying about another panic attack. He was sure Arthur knew they were in the same room, but he hadn't said anything except bidding them goodnight.

Harry wasn't awake just yet, so she rolled over to look at him, creating a very upset Crookshanks, who just stretched and moved to lay in the crook of Harry's knees. Hermione's eyes slid closed again as she buried her head into Harry's neck. Last night didn't even seem real. It seemed like it was forever ago. That was the weird thing she'd noticed about the Dreamless Sleep Potion: it made the time you were asleep feel much longer than it was. She always felt like she'd been sleeping for days, and it had been somewhat disorienting the first couple nights, but she'd gotten used to it by now.

It was still cloudy outside from the storm, so she couldn't tell what time it was, but the sun looked like it was threatening to peek through. At least it would probably be Ron who would come to get them. She thought about kissing Harry, only briefly, before realizing that kissing him without him responding wouldn't be much fun. And you're not supposed to be kissing him at all. That too.

Harry stirred, opening his eyes and smiling when he saw Hermione looking back at him. "Hi," he said softly.

"Hi," Hermione whispered back.

"I missed this."

Hermione swallowed; clearly he was delirious from just having woken up, but she'd missed it too. Of course she'd missed waking up to him. "Me too. Are you feeling all right?"

"Brilliant." Harry moved to stretch, effectively making Crookshanks have to move again. "Oh, sorry," he muttered as the cat jumped back down from the bed. "Didn't even know he was there."

"He loves you," she smiled. "I'm sure he's hungry. I'll have to let him out before we leave."

Harry's demeanor shifted immediately once he realized what day it was, and he sat up, running his hands over his face. "Is it strange for me to be nervous?"

"No," Hermione admitted, sitting up as well and pulling her knees to her chest. "I'm nervous, too. For him, I mean."

Harry nodded in agreement. "We'll do what we can."

"I'm just worried your word won't hold up very well with them, considering."

"No matter what I did, we're on the same side. That has to count for something." Harry pushed the blankets back and got out of bed, stretching again. "Also, I'm not sure if I ever want to go one night without that potion ever again," he laughed.

"I know what you mean. I don't think I've ever slept this well."

"Not even with me?" Harry teased.

"Definitely not. You move around too much. And you snore."

"I do not!"

"How do you know?" Hermione smirked.

"Because you've never mentioned it before."

"Maybe I was just being polite. But now that we're not sleeping together, it doesn't matter, does it?" But her grin gave her away.

"Watch it or I'll kiss you again."

Hermione laughed, crossing her arms. "Oh, kissing me is a punishment now?!"

"Is it a punishment if you like it?"

Hermione's jaw dropped. "I…." There were a lot of implications behind that statement, and she wasn't exactly sure of Harry's intent, but she suddenly felt very hot all over. She tore her eyes from him, looking down at the floor and taking a deep breath. "We should get ready."

Breakfast was quiet, with everyone nervous about the day's events and no one wanting to talk about the night before. Fred's absence had been obvious before, but now, sitting at a table with an empty chair glaring at them kept everyone in a somber mood. Arthur was going to escort them to the Ministry once more, but then Harry, Hermione, and Ron were on their own. Hermione made sure to pack Narcissa's wand in her bag, and Harry handed over Draco's.

"We'll have to turn them in before we get to the hearing anyway," he explained. "Or, at least I'm sure I will, if no one else. Though, since technically the wand you're using isn't yours, I can't guarantee that you'll get it back."

"They'll let me leave without a wand?" Hermione huffed.

"We'll take you straight to Diagon Alley afterwards to get a new one if they do," Molly promised, knowing Hermione wouldn't want to be without a weapon. "As soon as you get back."

Hermione didn't like the sound of even being unarmed from the time it would take them to travel from the Ministry to Diagon Alley. What if she had another panic attack brought on by the stress of the hearing and she didn't even have anything she felt could protect her? It was a terrifying thought, but they didn't have a choice. Harry was right - this was the Ministry they were talking about, and none of them were in the best position to argue protocol.

She almost groaned at seeing Harry in his suit again. After the conversation they'd had before breakfast coupled with the memory of the night before, something about the way he was carrying himself today made it very difficult not to grab that bloody tie of his and push him into whatever wall was nearest. Luckily, he seemed to have the same reaction to her in her heels, so that was fun.

She could feel his eyes on her as they made their way from the Floo fireplace in the Ministry lobby towards the elevator, but then again, she could feel everyone's eyes on her. On them. Hermione wondered briefly how many of them wondered why they were there, or thought they shouldn't be there at all. She tried to focus on seeming confident, but she was nervous about seeing Draco again, too. What would he look like? How would he hold himself in court? What would this whole experience even be like? Harry had briefed them on what happened in his hearing before fifth year, but this was different. That was underage magic - this was a case of conspiring with and indirectly helping Voldemort. Maybe he'd get off on just association. There was no telling whose side the Ministry was on, either, which was a scary thought in itself. She'd made notes for each of them so they'd know what to say and wouldn't forget anything, since Arthur informed them that they most likely would not be allowed to testify with the others in the room in order to prevent any influence.

It was annoying, but Hermione could understand why it was necessary. Didn't mean she liked it. They were all nervous just being there, especially with everyone staring. She instinctively wrapped an arm around Harry's and he didn't even flinch - instead, he just pulled her closer. Ron pressed himself into her side as well. The last time they were here, it didn't end well, with Yaxley following them through the Floo network and causing Ron to Splinch when they Disapparated instantaneously from Grimmauld Place. Ron rolled his shoulder a little.

"I don't like being here, Hermione," he muttered.

"Me either. You don't have to stay," she assured him. "You can go back home."

"No. As much as I hate the git, I saw what happened. The Ministry is more likely to take the testimony of another pureblood. No prejudice or something."

"And you'd better keep that in mind," Arthur warned them. "I'm sure they'll be watching you three very closely. Especially you, Harry, since you'll be up there in a couple days."

"Don't remind me," Harry muttered as they got into the elevator. Hermione rubbed his arm comfortingly, and they were silent as they descended.

"Now, I can't go in with any of you, so you'll need to decide who's going first."

"I will," Hermione volunteered, nervously tugging on the sleeve of her blouse. She could easily roll it up, as she knew she'd have to as evidence of her scar, but she didn't want everyone in the building to see it; she was still self-conscious about it and probably always would be. A slur was a slur, whether it bothered her or not.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked quietly.

"Positive."

The ding of the elevator seemed to echo in the small space as the doors opened, and Hermione took a deep breath. Arthur led them out and past the guards, who did in fact search and confiscate their personal items. Hermione felt so naked and vulnerable, but she tried to hide it, square her shoulders, and let security escort her into the courtroom.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but about twenty people filled the circular room, all seated on one side in riser seating behind a man she didn't recognize. In the middle of the stands sat reporters (of course), and Hermione wondered how much the Prophet had paid to sit in on this. Draco was sitting directly in the middle, in an oversized chair that faced the jury, already fidgeting. When he heard the commotion of the security guard bringing her in and motioning for her to take a seat in the back row, he turned around and paled even further. He looked awful. His hair was a mess, his eyes were bloodshot and sunken in a little. His skin looked like it hadn't been cleaned in a few days. She didn't even want to think about what was going on at his house right now, and for the first time, she wished he could be at Hogwarts with them. At least he'd be safe. She managed the tiniest of smiles just to let him know what side she was on.

Apparently, they had been waiting on her.

"Right, well, I supposed we can get started," the man with the gavel began. He was dressed in the same plum-colored robes as the others, and looked like he wanted to be there as much as Draco did. "Disciplinary hearing on the seventh of May into offenses committed by Draco Lucius Malfoy. Interrogator Darius Lawrence Green. The charges against the accused are as follows: compliance and assistance to the Dark Lord in the capture, torture, and/or execution of the following witches and wizards, including but not limited to Alastor Moody, Charity Burbage, Garrick Ollivander, Gellert Grindlewald, Luna Lovegood, Xenophilius Lovegood, Florean Fortescue, Rufus Scrimgeour, Severus Snape, Ronald Weasley…" he glanced up at her, "Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter."

"I didn't-"

"Please refrain from rebuttal until the charges have been listed in full. Also charged with assistance of Death Eaters onto the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, leading to destruction of the castle and surrounding property as well as multiple stores in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade Village. Do you deny these charges?"

Hermione's heart sank into her stomach, and she couldn't even imagine what Draco's was doing. She knew that wasn't even a full list of people that had been lost, but only those directly related to the time Draco was serving as a Death Eater. She didn't want to think about the dozens of others not mentioned, all the funerals she'd had to attend the past few days.

"Yes."

Hermione's brain was already running through all her evidence. She couldn't use the wands, unless… had the last spell Draco's wand had been used for was the one that ended Voldemort? Harry had repaired his wand the next morning, and they hadn't used any magic the night of the battle that Hermione was aware of. That might work. The security guard had it, so it was close by. She would just have to convince them that Harry hadn't taken it from Draco, that it had been willingly handed over. But how?

"You deny all of the charges?"

There was a pause. "Yes, sir."

Darius Green sighed. "Do you know that your father was here just previously and pleaded guilty to all charges in order to obtain a shorter sentence?"

"Yes, sir."

"Right. Please present your argument to the Wizengamot, then we will question your witnesses and deliberate your sentencing."

Hermione couldn't see much from her vantage point, but she sat up straighter, ready for whenever they needed her. It didn't seem like it even bothered him that his father had plead guilty - maybe they were reading him for that.

"He threatened to kill me if I didn't comply with orders. Those orders were given to me by my father. I did not deal directly with the Dark Lord, so I was not responsible for those he captured or tortured."

"Is it true that you have a Dark Mark on your arm?"

"Yes, sir."

"And those, if I'm not mistaken, are applied by the Dark Lord himself. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"So how can you say you didn't deal with him directly?"

"After the initiation, there's a… a training period of sorts. He had to make sure he could trust me, and placed me under the instruction of my father during that time. The Mark is placed so he can keep tabs on everyone, even during the training. I was assigned a task to complete after my initiation in order to prove loyalty."

"And when did you obtain your Mark?"

"Third of August, two years ago." Hermione remembered that - she'd stumbled upon the event after getting separated from Harry and Ron in Knockturn Alley. Harry had been right.

"That would be 1996."

"Yes, sir."

Daruis Green jotted a couple things down in his notebook. "And what, may I ask, was your initiation task?"

"I was ordered to murder Albus Dumbledore."

"And did you follow through with this task?"

"No, sir. Severus Snape had to complete my task in my place. I couldn't go through with it."

"And why are you still here, then, if you said he would kill you if you did not complete your initiation task?"

"My father vouched for me. He promised to train me, so that I could be a valuable member. My father was one of the Dark Lord's most loyal followers; he trusted him to follow through with my training."

"And did you receive any further training from your father?"

"It was attempted, yes."

"And unsuccessful?"

"Obviously." Draco's jaw clenched, and Hermione almost cracked a grin as she remembered a very similar conversation between Umbridge and Snape in their Potions class a couple years ago. That really did seem like a decade ago.

"Now, can you answer this question, Mr. Malfoy: why is Hermione Granger sitting in this courtroom as your witness when she was tortured by your aunt in your home?"

"Maybe you should ask her… sir."

"Are you admitting that you had no prior knowledge of her plan to be here today?"

"I've been secluded to my home with no outside contact for the past five days other than information regarding the date and time of this hearing."

Green sighed again, rubbing his forehead. "Right. Witness to the accused, Hermione Jean Granger. Please come forward."

Hermione stood, straightening out her skirt and taking the walk down towards Draco. Another chair conjured on the floor for her, and she reluctantly took a seat. Things were certainly much scarier from down here.

"Miss Granger, please describe your relationship with Mr. Malfoy."

It's complicated, she wanted to answer, but that wouldn't do him any good. "We're in school together. I've known him since first year."

"And you are a Muggleborn, correct?"

"I'm not sure why that makes any difference."

"Would you consider yourself friends with Mr. Malfoy?"

"Sir, that sounds like a very accusatory question should I say no. Hogwarts does not allow much time to engage with other houses outside of class. We are all very separated most of the day and most of our free time is spent in the common room, which cannot be entered by members of other houses. There is not one particular reason that Draco and I could not have been friendly with each other, if we were presented with the necessary circumstances."

Green looked at Hermione intently for a few seconds before realizing it was a lost cause. "What evidence do you have that Mr. Malfoy is not guilty of the charges being presented?"

"May I please ask him a question, sir?"

The judge frowned a little in confusion, but nodded. "Proceed."

"When is your birthday, Draco?"

"What?" he answered automatically, then cleared his throat. "June 5th."

"What year?"

Draco waited a second or two. "1980…" It came out more of a question, but it was the answer she needed.

"Your Honor, if Draco was born in June of 1980 and initiated as a Death Eater in August of 1996, that means the initiation occurred only two months after his sixteenth birthday. At that point, Draco was still a minor, not of age, and would not have been able to provide legal consent to said initiation." Next to her, Draco's jaw dropped, and Hermione fought a smirk. "Furthermore, since failing to complete his initiation task, he has proven multiple times that he was not completely loyal to the Dark Lord in my presence as well." She took a breath. "You asked why I am here when his aunt tortured me, and I will say it is because he was trying to stop her. He let it go on, at first, because it was what was expected of him, but when I didn't provide her with answers, and it was clear I wasn't going to provide her with answers, he was pleading with her to give up."

"And did it make a difference?"

Hermione's eyes closed briefly as she relived the moment, and she swallowed. "Yes. After… after she was done with me, she began questioning Griphook the goblin and left me alone. That's when… that's when Harry gave himself away." The panicky feelings were coming back. She had put the whole night at Malfoy Manor in the back of her mind months ago, trying not to think about it. But now that she was here, reliving it, the fidgeting returned.

"Harry Potter?"

"Yes."

"And where was he when he gave himself up?"

"In...in the cellar. They locked him and Ron down there when… when Bellatrix started..."

"Surely you know all this already if you just questioned my father," Draco interrupted. "Why are you making her tell it all to you again?!"

Something akin to gratitude relaxed her shoulders a little. It wasn't ever a feeling she'd expect in a situation coming from Draco Malfoy, but here he was - maybe he just hoped that cutting her some slack would make her more apt to defend him, not that he was wrong.

"Standard procedure, Mr. Malfoy. We need to see if the stories match," Green droned. "Please refrain from speaking until we have completed our questioning of the witness. Now, Miss Granger, how did Harry Potter escape from the cellar?"

"Draco retrieved him and Ron. They had their wands hidden when they came up the stairs and attacked Bellatrix."

"And how did they get their wands? All your belongings were confiscated on arrival, correct?"

"I gave them their wands," Draco answered.

"Do you have any proof of that?"

"Well, I'm sure you could ask them when they come in here and they'll tell you!"

"Enough, Mr. Malfoy."

"Draco informed Harry the best way to heal the wounds Bellatrix inflicted," Hermione continued quickly before Draco had the chance to speak again. "He saw exactly what she did, and Harry told me Draco told him how to fix it. He didn't want me to suffer."

"Not wanting someone to suffer and conspiring with the Dark Lord are two different circumstances, Miss Granger."

"Are they?"

There was some murmuring amongst the Wizengamot.

"It's clear in Draco's actions that he is not on the same side as his father. He helped heal my wounds, which incidentally saved my injured arm from being rendered useless. He provided Harry and Ron with their wands upon retrieval of them from the cellar, which he volunteered to do I'm assuming precisely for that reason. Even when he was given his wand back during the battle after using his mother's, he threw it to Harry so that he would have a weapon. If he hadn't done that, we might still have a war going on." She could see Draco swallow out of the corner of her eye. "Additionally, the very reason that Harry Potter is being tried is because of a curse that was performed with Draco's wand. It is, in fact, the last spell that was performed with that wand, which can be proven if it can be submitted as evidence. Draco's mother can attest to the fact that Draco willingly gave Harry his wand, as well as multiple other witnesses who saw the scene if Harry and Ron's affirmation is not enough."

She was testing them - how much work they wanted to do. With the sheer amount of trials they would have to sit through this week alone between Death Eaters and Harry's, she was counting on a transitioning Ministry to want to do as little paperwork (and work in general) as possible. And this interrogator already seemed halfway ready for it to be over.

"Very well," Green motioned to the security guard, "bring in Draco Malfoy's wand as evidence."

There was a slight lull while they waited and Draco wouldn't stop staring at her. "Thank you," he whispered, sure they weren't able to talk to each other during the hearing.

"You're welcome. You deserve all the help you can get."

Draco looked like he was about to cry, but quickly wiped his eyes as his wand was sat up on Green's podium. "This is your wand, correct?"

"Yes."

Green settled his wand tip-to-tip with Draco's. "Prior Incantato."

Hermione leaned forward slightly in her chair. She had never seen this charm performed before, and curiosity overtook her. She thought about closing her eyes, not wanting to relive the moment her entire relationship with Harry was shaken to its core, but she didn't even know what she was going to see.

Bright green smoke shot out of where the wands were joined and a few members of the Wizengamot gasped, leaning back in their seats, away from the light. It fizzled at the end, like a sparkler before revealing the blurry figure of a face that looked a lot like Voldemort's, then abruptly vanished back down into the wand.

There was silence.

"Get off of me! I just want to see my son! Draco… Draco, are you all right?"

"Mum…"

Narcissa Malfoy was struggling against a guard that was feebly trying to prevent her from coming into the courtroom, hair all askew, and for a moment, Hermione could only see her for what she was currently at her core: Draco's mother, who was desperate to keep her son safe.

"Can nobody keep this courtroom straight?!" Green ordered, standing to address the guard. "This is only the second hearing of the day!"

"Please, sir," Narcissa begged, "I take full responsibility for my son's actions and will therefore accept his sentencing in addition to my own without a formal hearing."

"Mum, you can't!"

"Too late, Draco. I have failed to protect you so many times in the past seventeen years. Let me do this."

Hermione wasn't sure where to look first. The reporters were scribbling madly and speaking with each other in hushed voices. A collective murmur came from the Wizengamot members.

"Sir, she lied to Voldemort to save Harry's life! She told him that Harry was dead when he wasn't!" Hermione pleaded, standing and ignoring the collective gasp as she said Voldemort's name. "She was just as vital to ending the war as Draco is!"

"Hermione, it's okay."

"No, it's not! If people don't deserve punishment, they shouldn't get it!"

Darius Green hit his gavel once and the noise stopped immediately. "Mrs. Malfoy, are Miss Granger's statements true?"

Narcissa took a deep breath. "Yes."

"Bring in Harry Potter, please. Quickly."

The security guard nodded before leaving, and less than a minute passed before he was escorting Harry in, who was looking around in confusion at the commotion, especially as to why Hermione was standing and Narcissa was there in the first place.

"Don't worry - this won't take long. Witness to the accused, Harry James Potter. Mr. Potter, please explain to the court the effort that Mrs. Malfoy provided during this war as the wife of a Death Eater."

Harry frowned, and Hermione looked at him, nodding. The reporters leaned a little further into the center of the room.

"Voldemort attempted to kill me. Mrs. Malfoy volunteered to investigate whether I was dead or not. She asked me in secret if Draco was in the castle and I answered that he was. Then, she told Voldemort that I was dead and I was taken back to the castle."

"Mrs. Malfoy, why did you lie about Mr. Potter's death?"

"I knew it meant the war would stop," she whispered. "If he thought Harry was dead, Draco would be safer."

"So you did this to protect your son, not to stop the war."

"There was no need for this war. The Dark Lord has plagued our family for years. If I could ensure that there was a fighting chance against him and also keep my son safe, I would do anything."

"And did you participate in the fight?"

"No. We took our son and left. I refused to take part in that allegiance."

"If he had stayed to fight, would you have taken position in battle against him?"

"I would have been killed. Draco and I both would have, and I'm sure the Dark Lord would have had Lucius himself do it. I wasn't about to put any of us through that."

"The Wizengamot will take a brief recess to discuss and sentencing will occur when we return. You may talk amongst yourselves."

Draco was out of his chair as soon as everyone but the security guard had left the room. "What the hell are you doing, Mum?"

"I can't let them send you to Azkaban, Draco." She turned to Harry, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Harry, for defending me."

"Of course. I thought your trial wasn't until later."

"It wasn't," the guard reminded them sharply.

"I wanted to give you your wand back," Hermione whispered.

Narcissa's eyes softened a little. "That's very sweet of you, but… I don't suppose I'll be needing it for a while, will I?"

"Mum, you can't go to Azkaban. I can't… I can't lose both of you. I can't be in that house by myself."

"You can come to Hogwarts," Harry answered. "We'll make sure you're safe."

"I don't want your protection, Potter."

"I'm just offering."

They stayed quiet after that, and it was a long ten minutes before the door opened and the Wizengamot began filing back in. Everyone tensed as they settled and Darius Green resumed his place at the podium and cleared his throat.

"After deliberation, the members of the Wizengamot have made the decision to clear Draco Lucius Malfoy of all charges. Narcissa Black Malfoy, in the charges of conspiracy and cooperation with the Dark Lord, you are hereby sentenced to eight years in Azkaban prison." One bang of his gavel echoed off the marble, though the shock and quiet of all four of them. "Dismissed."