Better be Slytherin
LXI
Death Eater Trials
On the morning of the first of september he usually got ready to leave to Hogwarts but today he woke up at six am and made sure to dress immaculately in his finest robes. It was the day of the trial. And it was going to be a long one.
His father had been in the arrest at the Ministry in London for the past two weeks which was protocol, and so they hadn't seen him in what was the most crucial time leading up to the trial. He fixed his tie, his palms sweaty, and looked at himself in the mirror, inhaling deeply to soothe his nerves. He looked all right, he supposed, pale and tired but impecably dressed.
He swallowed thickly as he walked through the dark corridor of Malfoy manor, down the staircase, down to what felt like his doom. Narcissa stood there, clasping her travel cloak, with Binky by her side. As he descended, she looked up and inspected him. Without a word, they floo'd together to the Ministry.
The atrium was buzzing with Ministry employees, reporters and others who had arrived to hopefully view some of the biggest Death Eater trials of this war. Mr Felstead was shielding Draco and Narcissa from the flashing cameras, when he saw Goyle clumsily making his way through the crowd. Draco called him over, and as he bustled through the crowd, Draco could tell they had encountered their first of undoubtedly many hurdles of today.
Goyle smelled like a brewery and looked like he hadn't shaved in days.
"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed at him, grabbing his arm. "Are you trying to get yourself sent to Azkaban?"
Gregory stumbled and clung onto the front of Draco's fine travelling cloak, nearly choking him. Draco glanced around hastily, Narcissa shot him a glare and some of the spectators were pointing and commenting. His voice was thick and slurry, as he moaned out, "I found a stash of old photos last night, Drake." He was a blubbering mess.
Draco's heart sank. Greg was drunk and grieving. How was Draco going to make him seem respectable? His palpitations had increased.
"I c-can't believe he's... gone..."
"Stand up," Draco hissed at Goyle who was still clinging onto him, tears now running down his cheeks again. "Greg!"
"I'm sorry, Drake," he sobbed drunkenly, "I know I shouldn't have looked at that the night before the hearing..."
"No, you bloody shouldn't have!" Draco snarled. But seeing the continous tears stream down his friend's face, he felt a pang of guilt.
"I just don't believe he's gone, Drake, tell me he's not.. I can't do this..."
"You can't do what?" said Draco quickly, panic starting to rise. "You're supposed to be my witness! You're supposed to help me escape Azkaban, Greg!"
"I know," Greg wailed, "I just keep w-wondering what he'd do if he was here..."
"Listen to me," said Draco, hoisting him up and facing him, "There's no point in wondering that, because he's not. All right? He's gone. We both saw it happening, there's no denying it. And if he knew we were messing up our chances of being freed of charges..."
"I know," sobbed Greg. A couple of by-passing ministry witches sent them pointed looks as they passed.
"You need to sort yourself out. How about a glass of water, or a pick-me-up charm, you know the ones Pansy always used when she was hungover..."
"I'm not hungover," sobbed Greg, "I'm drunk..."
Draco sighed; his irritation was coming to its limit. "Let's go in here," he said, grabbing Goyle by the scruff of his neck and leading him into the nearest lavatory.
While Greg splashed water on his face and dabbed at it with a towel, Draco pointed his wand at him and uttered a few spells. One to disguise the smell of whiskey, one to sharpen his mind, and yet another to free his robes of wrinkles that proved he'd slept in them.
Despite everything, he couldn't bring himself to resent Goyle for fucking up.
"Let's go," he muttered to Goyle. "It's nearly time."
Out in the corridor, they came face to face with Mr Felstead, Narcissa and her sister, Andromeda, the latter looking vastly uncomfortable, as if unsure if she should be there at all.
"Mother," said Draco politely, "Auntie," and kissed their cheeks.
"Gregory's not well," he whispered to his mother who was looking at Greg with a disgusted expression on her face.
"This way everyone," said Mr Felstead shortly, "Let us go downstairs." And he led them towards the elevators.
"It is time," said Narcissa shortly. He knew she was nervous. If he wasn't supporting Greg, he would put a hand on her arm to comfort her. "Your father will be awaiting us."
When the large double-doors to the Wizengamot flew open, and he saw the longing and hurt in his mother's eyes when she saw her husband, he realised for the first time that they loved each other like he loved Pansy.
His father was ragged, his long blonde hair tousled and his scruff greyish, he was chained to a chair a few rows down, which was were they now headed. He looked assured at the sight of his son and wife, however. Draco, Narcissa, Gregory and Andromeda took their places next to Lucius and Mr Felstead. There was a scuffle and his arm was yanked - he turned quickly, his heart speeding up again, to see Pansy there, wearing all black and with worry on her face. Her parents were behind her, and quickly shook Mr and Mrs Malfoys' hands. Draco and Pansy embraced quickly and wordlessly, and joined the crowd sitting down.
"Dear congregation," said a high voice from the top of the stands. The woman looked authoritative and was next to the the pronounced chair in the middle. "Please settle down."
Draco took his seat next to his mother. Andromeda was on her other side, holding her hand. Draco and Pansy focused on keeping Gregory upright and awake.
He could see the other Slytherins there - Zabini, Greengrass, Bulstrode, Davies, Nott and Wilkes were all huddled together some rows up.
To his far left he could see Potter, Weasley and Granger, all dressed in smart Muggle clothing. A jolt of anxiety went through him as he saw them, and carefully avoided eye contact. The dark courtroom was illuminated by torches, and it was hot due to the amount of people packed in there.
Kingsley Shacklebolt who was the temporary Minister for Magic was seated on the high chair in the center of the opposite side of the room. The jury who Draco knew would determine his fate sat all around him on benches, wearing identical sets of robes with an embroidered W on the chest.
"We're here today to resolve the Malfoy family's involvement with Lord Voldemort," said Mr Shacklebolt. "And whoever connected to them. In order for us to do so, we might have to go back months or even years to discuss everything leading up to their entanglement. It will be a long day, so I suggest we get straight into it. First off, The Wizengamot would like to call Miss Pansy Parkinson."
Heads turned their way and some mumbling could be heard. This was as planned, but Draco still felt the urge to go up there instead of her. He squeezed her hand and noticed she had painted her nails Slytherin green, and he instantly felt proud. Pansy took a deep breath and glanced at her parents for support before getting up and making her way down to the chair in the middle. Her heels echoed on the marble floor as every eye followed her.
"Miss Parkinson," said Kingsley. "Explain to the Wizengamot you're involvement with the Malfoy family."
"Well," said Pansy, uncharacteristically shyly and cleared her throat. "Draco and I have been housemates since we started Hogwarts, and for the past couple of years we've been dating."
"Did you know of Draco Malfoy's involvement with Voldemort?"
Pansy recoiled at the name and swallowed. "I did."
"How long have you known?"
"Erm... It was common knowledge in Slytherin that Draco's father was accused of being a Death Eater in the old war..."
"I'm not asking about Lucius Malfoy, I'm asking about Draco."
"I've known about Draco since sixth year."
There was a gasp from the crowd and some mumbling. Pansy shifted uncomfortably. Draco's heart was pounding.
"Sixteen years of age?" he heard a nearby witch hiss to her company.
"And what about you, Miss Parkinson?" Shacklebolt went on. "Did you ever think of joining Voldemort?"
"No!" she said, almost too quickly.
"Did you agree with his views?"
She shifted. "No," she said then, but her tone was almost unsure. Draco was biting his nails, why was Pansy such a shit liar?
"Several students in no relation to each other have given evidence to your bullying ways at Hogwarts," Shacklebolt went on. "Halfbloods or Muggleborns were often the source of mockery. Did you ever bully Mr Potter?"
"I'm not a bully!" Pansy's voice came out in an high-pitched, nervous tone.
"We have heard testified that you've called students 'Blood traitor' and 'Mudblood' amongst other things. Did you ever call Mr Potter any of these things?"
"How is this relevant?" Draco hissed to Mr Felstead, who held up a silencing hand.
"NO! I didn't. I've never spoken to Potter! I haven't, I promise!"
"Then why did you want to hand him over to Voldemort?"
Gasps and mumblings were heard throughout the crowd.
"I didn't! Well, I guess I did, but it wasn't personal! I only did it to-"
"You willingly sacrificed Mr Potter, though you knew it would lead to certain death."
"It was him or everyone else!" Pansy said now, her voice raised in panic.
"This hearing is to decide if you're involvement was illegal in any way. Miss Parkinson wanted to offer Harry Potter up to Lord-"
Draco couldn't take it anymore, the though of Pansy going to Azkaban because of him was too much. Without thinking, he stood up and shouted. "I made her say it!"
"Draco!" Lucius snarled.
"Draco, no!" Narcissa and Mr Felstead exclaimed at once.
"Stop it!" Mr Felstead said, grabbing him.
"I told Miss Parkinson to do whatever she did! I made her believe the Dark Lord was the right choice, and I made a mist-"
"Shut your mouth, boy!" hissed Lucius, almost threatheningly. Pansy was staring at him, shaking her head from below.
"Enough!" Shacklebolt said loudly enough to drown out the many upset voices of the crowd. "Mr Malfoy, it's admirable that you wish to take on Miss Parkinson's guilt, but I assure you, the Wizengamot isn't easily fooled. If you wish to carry on, we will add this onto your list of charges, but if you're lying you would be facing a severe sentence for incitement... Do you wish to repeat your previous statement, that you in fact forced Miss Parkinson to say these things? If not then I ask you to be quiet."
The Wizengamot was mumbling amongst each other. Lucius yanked Draco's arm hard and Mr Felstead had stood up, facing Draco and blocking him from Shacklebolt. "Sit down right now, Draco!"
"Yes!" Draco shouted, despite everything.
"Draco, please," his mother said, tears were running down her cheeks now.
"Minister, please!" said Pansy hastily. "Draco is tring to protect me. I can't deny saying what I said, but it wasn't for the reason everyone thinks. I did think that giving Potter to H-him would spare more lives. The Dark Lord said he would leave us all alone if we just gave Potter to him. I didn't support him, Minister, I swear. I just... believed him."
The mumbling became less aggravated. Half of the jury looked sympathetic
Draco heart was pounding. "It's all my fault," he said quickly, "I take full responsibility for making her think that way."
"Mr Malfoy you've been told to be quiet! Miss Parkinson was of age at the time and is as such fully responsible for her actions, now whether her actions are punishable, that is another question.. perhaps council will deliberate…"
Draco who had been struggling with Lucius and Mr Felstead, was finally back in his seat. His mother sent him a glare through her tears.
"I promise I didn't support him, I didn't want Potter dead!" Pansy sounded desperate now, pleading.
"That's a lie!" shouted Lavender Brown, "Pansy was known at Hogwarts for bullying people because of their Blood-Status!"
"Will the witness be quiet while not in questioning!" shouted Shacklebolt. "Miss Parkinson's views and actions while at school have been certainly misguided and racist. However, it is not proved that she's done anything illegal or incriminating. As for you Mr Malfoy, I order you to leave this courtroom until further notice."
Draco gaped, as two guards grabbed him by both arms and escorted him out of the room while he kicked and tried getting his arms out of their grasp. Lucius, Narcissa and Goyle hurried after.
As soon as the guards had released him outside the door and sent him glares, they went back inside and locked the doors. Draco banged on the doors angrily. Lucius grabbed him again, on the verge of painfully. "Draco!" he said furiously, "You've managed to embarass yourself, this family, as well as probably make Miss Parkinson's as well as your own situation worse! Fool!" and he jerked his arm to make Draco look at him.
Draco was shaking. "She can't go to Azkaban because of me, father!"
"It isn't because if you! And she will surely NOT go to Azkaban! Control yourself!"
"I won't let it happen! I need to get back inside!"
"Narcissa, put a Calming Charm on the boy...!" Lucius was wandering around, fists clenched.
"Lucius!" Narcissa gasps "Both of you calm down!"
Shacklebolt banged his gavel hard, "Order!" he shouted.
Pansy swallowed hard and tried to control her voice. She felt even more alone now that Draco was outside. She looked up at her mother and father for advice, and her father nodded encouragingly at her.
"Mr Malfoy can come back in when your questioning is over," said Shacklebolt. "Miss Parkinson, tell us what happened that evening in May when the Death Eaters invaded the castle."
Pansy took a deep breath. This seemed like something she could answer. "Where do I begin?"
"Wherever you find appropriate. Tell us what happened that day."
"Well I woke up, did my makeup, went up to breakfast-" she began, unsurely.
"Perhaps start from your movements that evening. Your house was woken up by the Head to come to the Great Hall if I'm not mistaken?"
"Yes," said Pansy, "But... I wasn't asleep when Professor Slughorn came down."
The room was silent now, everyone was eager to listen.
"And why was that?"
"Because..." She glanced at Daphne and Queenie in the crowd. "I had already been warned there might be an invasion."
"Warned - by whom?"
"By Draco. He woke me up because... his Mark was burning."
A few gasps were heard, and some sideway glances were shared.
"He told me he had to leave and that I was to stay in the dormitory. Then Professor Slughorn came and told us all to come to the Great Hall. We got there and McGonagall told us the Death Eaters were attacking school. I panicked... Then Harry Potter was there. And... The Dark Lord, we... we could hear his voice, as if he was in the room.. next to us." She felt scared now, remembering the voice echoing inside her head. "He told us he would kill all of us if we didn't hand Potter over. So," she took a deep breath. "I said we should hand Potter over."
"Elaborate?"
"I realise now that perhaps it was naive of me to trust He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named," she said anxiously, "but when he said we would all die if we didn't hand Potter over, I was terrified. I thought... one life, against hundreds... we could all be spared, if Potter would just stop hiding from him."
"So you told the entire school to hand Harry Potter over to the dark side?"
"Yes, but..."
"And you did so knowing Voldemort would try to kill him?"
"Yes, but..."
"What was your relationship with Mr Potter?
Pansy frowned, finding the question bizarre. "I had no relationship with him!"
"You went to the same school for six years with him, you must have had some sort of encounter?"
"No! I... we weren't friends."
"Why is that?"
"I don't know! Are you friends with everyone you went to school with?"
"Was it perhaps so that the reason you weren't friendly with Mr Potter was because you found him a 'Blood Traitor'?"
"I... no..."
"But you did think of Mr Potter as a 'Blood Rraitor' didn't you, Miss Parkinson?"
"Objection," said Mr Felstead. "That is hearsay."
"I might have..." said Pansy before she could think.
"Thank you, no further questions," said Shacklebolt and a wave of mumbling was heard again throughout the Wizengamot.
Pansy looked horrified at Mr Felstead.
"Minister, if I may," came a voice from the first row. Shocked, Pansy saw Potter getting up.
"Certainly, Harry," said Shacklebolt.
"While it's true me and Pansy have never been friendly or seen eye to eye, forgive me, but this is ridiculous. Voldemort was going to try and kill me whatever anyone said, and I hardly think he would've listened to Pansy Parkinson anyway. She may have questionable morals and company, but let's face it, she hasn't done anything illegal. I suggest we drop this and move on."
There was a moment's silence, and then Shacklebolt said. "Let's vote then. All in favour or clearing the accused of all charges."
Even Shacklebolt himself held up his hand. A moment's deliberation later and the Wizengamot had made their decision.
"Cleared of all charges."
Following that, it was Narcissa's turn. The Malfoys were allowed back in, and Draco, unknowing of what had happened to Pansy, was embraced by her as soon as he stepped back into the room. Relief washed over him as Pansy kissed him and held onto his hand and whispered soothing words into his ear as they sat down again.
Narcissa sat stiffly on the chair below, watched by hundreds of eyes, her back rigid and her face motionless. She explained how her husband had indeed been a supporter of the Dark Lord but how they had changed their minds. She explained how for the past few years she had resented being part of this, especially when it targeted her son. But what finally won the Wizengamot over, was yet again Potter.
"Mrs Malfoy saved my life."
There was another wave of whispers, and Shacklebolt waited patiently.
"After I went to sacrifice myself and Voldemort put the killing curse on me, I woke up back in the forest. He sent Mrs Malfoy to check I was dead. She could feel my heart beating, and she asked me in a whisper if her son was still alive and in the castle. I said yes, and so she lied to Voldemort, making it possible for me to come with them back to the castle to defeat him. Without her lie, which undoubtedly put her and her family's life at risk, I wouldn't have had that chance. I would've been killed instantly."
Draco glanced at his father, who was was watching Potter intently.
Narcissa exhaled deeply, and Draco knew before they even voted, what would happen.
"Cleared of all charges."
Draco and Andromeda embraced and Pansy squeezed his hand. He saw his father's eyes close in relief.
"The Wizengamot will now break up for a two hour recession. Please be seated back at three o'clock."
They went to the restaurant on the top floor of the Ministry for lunch. They were joined by Pansy's parents and their fellow Slytherin year-mates so they had to ask for a table for thirteen people which gave the House-Elves quite a bother but finally they were able to put three tables together. Draco sat next to and held her hand the whole time until their food arrived. The relief of his mother and Pansy being cleared of all charges began to subside and in it's place, the fear for his own and his father's futures had appeared.
Mr Felstead and Lucius were disussing strategy at one end of the table, in front of him Narcissa and Perpetua were having a polite conversation about the menu, and to his right Pansy was animatedly retelling the story to her father and classmates even though they had been there. And in the midst of it all, Draco felt lonely, empty, just like he had for the past few months. A gnawing feeling of disgusting jealously of the fact that Pansy had got off had now hit him. He was ashamed for feeling this way, but as he looked at her talking to her friends, smiling, he wondered if he would ever feel as relieved? If he would ever genuinely smile again?
"The Dark Lord totally lost the plot," said Pansy without even bothering to keep her voice down. "I'm glad he's gone, and that everyone knows where I stand. I can't believe they even wanted to question me, as if I'd even done anything illegal?!" Her newly found confidence made him snort a little, and the previous feeling of jealousy was replaced with love for her.
He glanced sideways and noticed Lucius look at Pansy darkly.
"Mr Malfoy, it's you they want," he heard Mr Felstead whisper to Lucius. "You could do this for your son. Take your responsibility. Take your punishment, and save your son. Do it for Draco."
Draco stared at his father. Suddenly he was craving a stronger drink than the pumpkin juice in front of him.
He rushed to the lavatories, marched over to one of the stalls, locked it with clammy fingers, and proceeded to trow up into the toilet bowl. That was a waste of lunch then, he thought sarcastically. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, closed the lid and slumped down onto the seat, cold-sweating.
It was all too much, the pressure, the anxiety, the food, the lack of sleep and alcohol.
Every word Mr Felstead had made him memorise was swirling around inside his head, making up half-made sentences. What if he forgot to say something crucial, and he was sent to Azkaban? What if he was found guilty? What sort of time would he be looking at? Would he be in there for the rest of his life? He remembered what Azkaban did to his father during only one year and another jolt of anxiety hit him. Should he just make a run for it now? Move to a different country, change his name and appearance and live as a Muggle until they caught him, if they ever did?
He just wanted it over with. Whatever was to come, he wanted to know.
The doors flew open and he could hear two voices communicating quickly. He jumped and tried to focus as he wiped his forehead with some toilet tissue.
"-still think you should've left her to it to be honest," said one voice casually as they strode in.
The other snorted, "She's harmless," and Draco recognised the voice to be Potter's. "I don't want to spend all day here for Pansy Parkinson. I just want to get this all over with so we can finally have some peace and quiet."
"Harmless but vile," said what he thought must be Ron Weasley, as a tap was turned on. "But you're right mate, I just want to see the Death Eaters get thrown behind bars. For what they did to my brother."
There was a silence as both boys used the urinals. Draco held his breath in fear of being seen or heard.
"Malfoy's coming up now though," said Ron. "I can't wait to see him squirm."
Draco swallowed.
"We'll see," said Potter non-comittally.
"That dickhead deserves it."
"Talking about me?" Draco emerged from the stall and pierced them with a cold look. Potter turned around hastily and Weasley's eyes narrowed. "Nice to see you still don't have a life."
He elbowed Weasley out of the way and washed his hands.
"Nice to see you break down and get kicked out earlier," Weasley retorted.
"As if you wouldn't do the same if it was your... Beaver girlfriend," muttered Draco, consciously not using the word Mudblood. "You must be enjoying this Potter. All this power over me and my family."
Their eyes met in the mirror and Potter looked tired. He had always been better at controlling his emotions than Weasley, anyway. "I'm not the Wizengamot, Malfoy," said Potter. "It's not me you have to convince."
"You'd just love to see me get thrown into Azkaban, wouldn't you," Draco snarled, his forehead sweaty again and he kept rubbing his hands with soap.
"I actually don't care what happens to you," said Potter coldly. "But your dad's not avoiding prison again, if I can help."
Draco twitched angrily, almost wanting to attack the boy. Weasley noticed and pulled out his wand.
"Don't talk about my father!" he snarled.
"Why, is family off limits all of a sudden?" said Potter. "Haven't you always made fun of me for having no parents?"
"Not to mention the fact that one of my family members are dead because of you and your lot," said Weasley furiously through gritted teeth and stepped closer with the wand still pointed at Draco's face.
"I had nothing to do with that!" said Draco and his voice raised to a high-pitched, uncomfortable tone. "I didn't want that to happen."
Weasley was breathing heavily, but Potter held up a hand. "It's fine. Ron, leave it."
"Before you pulled your wand out," muttered Draco, "I was going to say thanks for whatever you said about Pansy that obviously got her off."
Potter shrugged. "I didn't do much. I let Kingsley go on a bit too long. I just wanted to let her squirm for a bit."
Draco rolled his eyes. Pansy probably had deserved it.
"I know that she was never loyal to Voldemort," said Potter. Draco cringed at the name. "She was just loyal to you."
"I suppose," said Draco shortly. "You must love this. Being everyone's saviour."
"I actually would prefer to not be involved in any of this, believe it or not," said Potter tiredly.
"Why'd you save me anyway?" Draco had burst out before he'd even thought about it.
Potter and Weasley looked at each other. "Well, we didn't want you dead," said Potter, frowning.
"Oh come on, we hate each other," said Draco with a sneer. "Yet, you saved me from the fire, and you," he nodded at Weasley, "punched out a Death Eater who was trying to kill me."
"Don't flatter yourself, I don't care whether you're alive or dead," said Weasley. "I just didn't want to be responsible for it."
Draco snorted.
"You were a terrible Death Eater anyway," said Harry, with the hint of a grin. "I kind of felt bad for you."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Ah, thanks, just what I need. Pity from Potter."
"See you around Malfoy," said Potter, and they turned to leave.
Draco gripped the basin hard and looked at himself in the mirror. He was as white as a corpse.
