Better be Slytherin
LXIV
Death Eater Trials II
The courtroom was buzzing even more now, people seemed tensed for what was to come. Draco's breath came out uneven and short, and he felt dizzy as he looked aorund the vast room, once again feeling peculiarly lonely despite being in a crowd of people. He'd seen the view from the restaurant at the top floor of the Ministry during lunch and the early September weather was still summery, Muggles below had been hurrying past, sweating in their suits. The leaves were still green and the sun ablaze, although not as hot as the previous month. It would've been a lovely day if you weren't facing Azkaban. The courtroom however showed no sign of outside life - it was dark and dim, and frankly depressing. There was no way out.
Lucius was chained to the chair in the middle of the room, he was the only one who had received this treatment so far. Draco gulped and wondered whether he too would be chained to it when it came to him.
"Lucius Malfoy. You've been sent here from the arrest where you have awaited trial, to answer to the claims of which you have been charged with."
His once so regal father tried to look mighty but he couldn't move his wrists or ankles. His cool grey eyes moved over the Wizengamot. Mr Felstead was next to him.
"How do you plead, sir?" said Kingsley high above him.
"I plead guilty for breaking out of Azkaban," said Lucius, as directed by Mr Felstead.
There was a sharp intake of breath from the crowd.
"But as for the charges of murder, assault, co-conspiracy to overtake the Ministry and persecution of Harry Potter I plead not guilty."
There were outcries from the public now, angry and disbelieving.
And then followed a half hour of Lucius' carefully perfected speech, containing everything from how he had been a young and naive boy when he entered the Dark Lord's service, to how his eyes had opened later on, and to how he had been forced to carry out Voldemort's orders despite his disloyalty. He spoke with emotion about his grave remorse, of how he had never wanted to involve his son in this, and how he had wanted to get out alive with his family.
The Wizengamot's looks of pure disbelief somehow turned less hostile as he went on.
"I know now that we were wrong to support the cause," his smooth voice trailed on, "Every since the Dark Lord came back I was reluctant to follow him. But the Dark Lord does not let go. I was forced to go after Harry Potter at the Ministry along with Bellatrix Lestrange and countless other Death Eaters, it was not something I wanted to do. I never wanted to see my son's classmate in harm. We were caught and sent to Azkaban, I was deep in remorse, but rejoiced at the fact the boy had escaped death again. Thereupon, the Dark Lord set up our escape from the prison. The Dementors were already on his side, so it was an easy quest. I do not deny going with them. I believe if anyone in here had been in that situation, they would have done the same. Azkaban is..." he paused, his eyes momentarily frightened and his body gave a slight recoil of reluctance - probably the only thing completely true so far, Draco thought, "a very dark place."
After another tensed pause, where the members of the Wizengamot and public now were listening intently, he went on. "I was reunited with my wife and son. I realised, perhaps more than ever, that they were the only thing of matter in the world. And I could not put them in harm's way anymore. My son had been set an assignment to kill Albus Dumbledore, a punishment for my mistakes."
The crowd was once again whispering, some motioning towards Draco. He sank down in his seat, his heart beating quickly.
"But my son," Lucius paused, and some more emotion was added. "He would not do it. He is pure of heart. He also refused to identify Mr Potter when he was taken captive to our home. I believe it is my guidance of late that has pointed him in this direction. My wife, as the Wizengamot knows, also lied to save Mr Potter's life, giving the opposition another chance at destorying the Dark Lord."
He glanced at Pansy, who's dark look mirrored his irritation at what his father had said. She squeezed his hand.
"I renounce the Dark Lord fully," he then said loudly and Mr Felstead nodded slightly next to him. "I am a changed man, bound to this man in fear of death, and nothing else. I am relieved he is gone and I owe the safety of myself and my family to Mr Potter, our saviour."
Draco thought that was taking it a bit too far, but the previously sceptic public seemed more content by now.
"Thank you, witches and wizards of the Wizengamot. I will accept whatever ruling you lay on me."
Shacklebolt shuffled with his papers and whispered something to his secretary. Draco glanced around at Potter and his friends. They all looked outraged.
"Please move Mr Malfoy back to his seat," said Kingsley shortly to the guards. "I will now call Draco Malfoy to give testimony of his father's crimes."
Draco swallowed thickly, feeling dizzy again. This was it. Remember everything you've practiced, he told himself. He moved down the aisle, his neck prickling and feeling everyone's eyes on him. He better not mess this up for his father. His throat felt extremely dry.
He walked across the black marble floor and sat down on the hard leather seat.
"Mr Malfoy, will you swear to tell no lies today?" said Kingsley authoritatively.
"I swear," he croaked out nervously.
"Then will you begin by telling us how you found yourself in Voldemort's service?"
He gathered all of his strenght, coughed awkwardly and began his learned speech.
"My father was taken to prison and I found myself wanting to avenge him. You-Know-Who gave me, what I thought was an opportunity to prove myself, but what I subsequently learned was a way of punishing me and my father. He bestowed upon me the task of killing Albus Dumbledore. Naturally I was terrified, the thought of hurting someone had never entered my mind, and the Headmaster was such a strong wizard. I tried half-heartedly for almost a year, accidentally hurting two other students in the process which horrified me. In the end, I failed to do what he assigned to me, and Snape did it instead, which we have since then learned was planned by Dumbledore himself."
He paused and took a deep breath. He had said all of it very quickly, he was rushing to get through this. The Mark on his left arm was burning softly. He cringed.
"My father then came back from Azkaban a changed man, and since then we have not wanted to be part of You-Know-Who's cause. These past few years have been the worst in my life, and I can't even begin to describe the fear, anxiety and distress it has caused me and my family."
"Thank you, Mr Malfoy," said Shacklebolt in his deep, slow voice. "You were involved with Lord Voldemort from the young age of sixteen. If you had the chance, would you go back and do things differently? Would you never have joined?"
He cleared his throat. "I want to say, yes of course. But if I had refused, I don't know what the Dark- what You-Know-Who would've done to my father, or even my mother."
A few sympatethic nods came from the crowd.
"But of course I wish none of this had happened," he finished lamely. "I didn't take the Mark of free will, even if I may have thought so at the time. I was manipulated and trapped. I didn't want to hurt my mother by joining, but I needed to help my father. And You-Know-Who is very persuasive. But what he did disgusts me," he glanced at the crowd, hoping Bletchley and Montague weren't there. Nott's cold gaze met his for a second and the looked away.
"Do you believe your father a repentant man?"
He hesitated, closed his eyes for a second and tried to remember what he'd memorised with Mr Felstead. "Yes. My father was foolish to follow You-Know-Who in the first war. But this time around I fully believe he was, like me, forced to do his bidding, and trapped in this nightmare situation."
He met his fathers eyes for a second, and Lucius nodded at him proudly.
"Thank you, Mr Malfoy," said Kingsley. "Yes, Mr Felstead?"
Mr Felstead, who were standing next to Lucius, said loudly and clearly, "Thank you, Minister. I might also add to the Wizengamot that the Malfoy home has been searched thouroughly and no evidence of Dark Arts have been found. Lucius Malfoy along with Draco Malfoy has also provided a list of names which has been very valuable to the Wizengamot in the persecution of Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy may have been a supporter in the first war, but has since repented. During the year he's been back from Azkaban he has been a prisoner in his own home for ninety percent of the time. The charges of murder, assault, conspiracy and persecution, are therefore disproved and refuted."
The Wizengamot delibered for almost an hour, until they revealed their decision.
"The accused has been cleared of the charges of murder, assault, conspiracy and persecution," said Shacklebolt, pointing his wand at his throat to amplify his voice. Draco's eyes didn't leave his father's stoic face. "But he has been found guilty of escaping from Azkaban. He will serve the remainder of his original four year sentence, of which he only served one year, and an additional two years have been added for his escaping. He will serve a total of sixty months in Azkaban prison." Kingsley banged his gavel, hard, and it echoed off the walls.
A sudden nausea hit Draco, and the enormous relief that had started to fill him was replaced by breathtaking horror. The fact that the crowd were clapping excitedly made him even more ill.
"Father!" he gasped as they burst out into the corridor. Narcissa was sobbing openly. Lucius' angry footsteps echoed on the black tiles. Mr Felstead was quick to follow and was trying to rationalise the situation, but nothing he said made any change.
"No, they can't take you away, father!"
"The Mudbloods got what they wanted," said Lucius menacingly. "I was never going to rectify this situation, my son. There was a slim chance I could go away for the rest of my life, so naturally..."
"Five years?" Draco shouted. "Five years! What are we going to do without you for five years?" His emotion slipped out in his desperation. "I'll be old when you get out!"
"Draco, this is as we expected," said Mr Felstead, handing Narcissa a handkerchief. "Your father was never going escape his past conviction. We're lucky that's all he got."
"Lucky?!" Draco yelled in panic.
"Son, listen to me!" said Lucius, raising his voice and snapping Draco's attention back to him. "It's all about yo now, you will not join me in Azkaban. Do you hear?"
Narcissa gave a sob at this and her hand clinged onto Draco's arm.
"You need to calm yourself down so you can perform perfectly in there," said Lucius in an intense whisper, holding onto his son's shoulders. "You are not joining me in Azkaban. You need to make sure of it."
He swallowed thickly and rubbed his sweaty palms on his trousers. The pressure of saving himself had been amplified by the thought of his father going away to Azkaban, and it had made it impossible to focus or remember what he'd practiced.
With a shaky voice, he said hastily, "I wish I'd never taken the Mark! I was wrong, I admit it! I refused to identify Potter at the manor even though I knew it was him. I refused to kill D-Dumbledore even though I knew I had to. I didn't want anyone to die, I swear!"
Mr Felstead was staring at him pointedly, wanting him to calm himself.
His rehearsed speech had slipped from his mind, and all he could see were the resentful faces around him. They all probably wanted him to rot in Azkaban with his father. He spotted Potter's expressionless face in the crowd.
"Minister," interrupted one of the Wizengamot, a squat man with a hard face directed at Kingsley. "The boy was a full on Deat Eater. Whether he at the last minute decided he was too scared to kill Dumbledore, he was involved in the murder, as well as the fact that he put other students' lives at risk. He was in Voldemort's employment for over two years! Ever since he was sixteen! Just look at his left arm for Merlin's sake!"
"Draco was a child, merely a tool for the Dark Lord's plans. He was manipulated and used. Whatever crimes he comitted wasn't out of own will. It might also be worth for the Wizengamot to note that when he comitted these crimes he was underage," Mr Felstead interrupted, a hand raised.
"Underage or not, the boy has used the Unforgivable Curses, at least one of them," said the member of the Wizengamot loudly. "Madam Rosmerta of the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade has given testimony to the fact that Mr Malfoy placed the Imperius Curse on her to give a deadly necklace to a student. That alone, along with the fact that he brought Death Eaters into the school, poisoned and cursed students and tried and failed to kill Albus Dumbledore should be enough to sentence this boy! He has participated in Death Eater activity for years!"
Draco buried his face in his hands, breathing in panic. If he knew the Death Eater's wouldn't win the war, he would've switched sides ages ago. Back when Dumbledore offered it to him. But he had been to afraid.
"It is true," said Kingsley, "That Mr Malfoy's record is against him..."
"Minister, I'm sorry," said Potter and stood up. "I must interject. Through my connection with Voldemort as I've described before, I was able to see glimpses of what he was doing. I saw Draco being forced by wand to torture fellow Death Eaters. He also had no choice but to take on the mission he was given when his father was sent to prison. He was forced to join."
"You say so, Harry?"
"Yes," said Potter. Draco stared at him. "He and his family were in danger. I've never been friendly with Draco but I know he didn't want this. Sure, Draco is no saint, but who is? And yes he was a bully and he disliked Muggleborns. But technically that isn't a punishable offence. And I believe he has changed. He did refuse to identify me, and I believe he would've taken Professor Dumbledore's offer of protection hadn't the other Death Eaters arrived."
Draco was shaking as evening approached and the Wizengamot gave their final verdict on his future.
"As Mr Malfoy was underage at the time of the crimes," said Kingsley, his wand amplifying his voice. "We have no choice but the clear him of all charges."
A mix of disappointed groans, and a few applauds were heard. Draco stared and felt himself forgetting to breathe. It couldn't be?
The noise of the moving crowd was ringing in his ears as he dizzily looked around. He could see everyone he knew smiling widely, Pansy's mouth was ajar, and Narcissa was crying again. Lucius exhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a moment, and then nodding with a smile at his son. Relief.
As the Wizengamot began to leave their seats, he could see Potter, Weasley and Granger rising as well. For a second he met Potter's eyes. There wasn't hatred nor relief there. Potter nodded at him. Draco only stared. Before he knew it he was pounced by Pansy. She was kissing his head and holding every part of him she could reach.
Then came his mother, his father, Mr Felstead, and Pansy's parents followed by Zabini, Greengrass, Wilkes and Davies. He was surrounded by congratulators. Through the crowd, he could see Nott, Bletchley, Warrington, Bulstrode and the rest, muttering together by the exit and sending him dirty looks. It sent a jolt of anxiety to his stomach, but there was nothing he could do about it. Let them hate me, he thought.
An hour later, the instant relief had disappeared quickly, drained off him and been replaced by the horror of saying goodbye to his father. Narcissa didn't stop crying.
After some paperwork and handing his possessions to Mr Felstead, it was time.
They were in a dark little meeting room behind the chambers with a whole gang of guards watching Lucius' every move.
It was all a shock, Draco didn't remember much of it. He remembered his father looking at him gravely, taking his face in his hands, and saying, "do me proud, son."
He remembered his mother clawing desperately at his father as they took him away. He remembered shouting after his father, shouting until he couldn't hear them anymore.
He was walking along the corridor, and he vaguely remembered that Pansy was holding his hand as they marched quickly and he tried to ignore his mother's crying. Narcissa was holding onto Mr Felstead who were supporting her.
Pansy was saying something but he couldn't hear it. They had taken his father away. For years. What would life be like now? His heart was beating in his ears like drums.
They ascended in the lift and were met by flashing lights as they entered the atrium. There were reporters, cameras, a big crowd, and Pansy's parents. Mr Felstead led them through.
When they had walked through almost the whole atrium, he spotted Potter, Weasley and Granger. "Potter," he said in a low voice as they got closer through the crowd. He didn't want anyone else to hear, although he knew everyone would see.
The reporters were still flashing their cameras and calling out questions.
"Mr Malfoy! Mr Malfoy, over here!"
His and Potter's eyes met.
"Thanks," he muttered. "Appreciate it."
Potter nodded. There wasn't really any more to say, or do.
To his surprise, Draco's mother reached out next to him.
"Yes," she said desperately, wiping her tears. "Mr Potter, thank you for saving my son." She offered her slender white hand for him to shake.
Potter hesitated, but then took her hand. "You did save my life in the forest. So we're even now."
Draco nodded at him, and was then pushed on by the crowd - they kept walking towards the fireplaces, ignoring the words of the press behind them.
The manor felt inescapably empty when they arrived. Binky was there to welcome them home, but it wasn't, and would never be, the same without his father.
Narcissa took a deep breath and then without a word, walked into the parlour and poured herself a big crystal glass of Fire Whiskey. Without sitting down, or even moving, she drank the whole thing. Then she slumped into one of the magnificent armchairs.
Pansy glanced at her parents and Draco, and they followed into the room. Binky hurried to pour them all drinks, and Draco drank his with his back to the others.
"You did well today, Draco," said Mrs Parkinson, who took it upon herself to speak now that Draco's parents weren't able to. "You presented yourself in the best light possible. You should be proud."
Draco, who was still standing by the side table, poured himself another drink without a word.
"Yes," said Pansy. "It's all over now. And who cares if you let them see how frightened you were, it probably only helped."
"It's true," said Narcissa, wiping her face. "The Dark Lord had it wrong. Even L-Lucius admitted it. Your father wanted you to say whatever you could to save yourself."
Draco shook his head but did not know what to say. He looked out onto the dark grounds. He could see the white peacocks strolling along the hedges. He took a deep breath.
"Come here, son," said Narcissa. "All that matters now is that I have you here. You understand? And we will survive."
"He's not gone forever," offered Pansy, which had little or no helping effect on the Malfoys.
His mother put her arms around him and buried his head in her embrace.
When he stumbled into bed, his head was spinning. The pressure of the day and his father's face when they took him away haunted his mind.
Pansy followed him dutifully, and while he lay stiffly and uncomfortably on top of the duvet, she removed his shoes for him.
"Pansy," he said when she got into bed with him and helped him remove his clothes in his drunken state. "I need you," he murmured desperately. He buried his face in her hair. "I love you. Only you."
She and his mother were the only real substances in his life now, they were all he had. He felt like he and Pansy had grown into each other, become part of another, become the same person split into two bodies... If she were to go she'd surely take a few of his organs along with her, making him half, crumpled and dying... He had shut her out for so long, what if she left him now?
"I love you too, darling," she whispered and held onto him.
"Mine," he mumbled.
"Mine," she whispered back.
She held him for a long time and then gave him a kiss. "I don't know what I'd do if they would've taken you away today," she said, shaking slightly of pent up anxiety and nerves. Then she gave a small bitter laugh. "You never were a good Death Eater anyway."
Yes, the Malfoys had fallen from grace. But, as everyone knew, they would surely rise up again. Because the Malfoys always survived, regardless of whose body they had to climb over to do it.
Pansy reckoned, however long it took, they would be all right.
