Disclaimer: Oh yes, of course they're mine. Just as the sun is made of ice
and money grows on trees. Miss Rowling? If you wish to sue please find
someone else, I can't even afford a lawyer let alone a settlement.
Warnings: Some blood mentioned but it's okay.
.
.
.
Blood & Nails.
.
Part Twenty Six. Live The Dream.
'During his trial, Draco Malfoy, Aged 21, Level 1 Auror - Field Officer, British Division, Id Number 37226, showed little remorse for his crimes and verbally maintained his innocence throughout.
Even as the 'Guilty' verdict was announced, he showed only disbelief. While many thought this to be that he may have in fact been innocent, I personally hold true to the statement I made before the trial, that the prisoner simply believed that his money, status and connections would be able to swing the court's decision in his favour.
Due to the violent nature of the crimes, coupled with his lack of remorse, I see no reason to waive the sentence for a more lenient term and I am overruling the objection to appeal, and ordering the punishment of execution to be upheld.
Judge Acerb'
Draco scrunched his nose up and tossed that piece of paper back into the pile. Judge Acerb had never liked him anyway, so he wasn't too surprised. But why that Judge was permitted in on this case, given his well known prejudice towards the Malfoy family, was beyond the young man as he spent another day sifting through files.
His eyes ached but he knew that he didn't have any time for just sitting back and doing nothing. If they were going to charge Harry with accessory to all the attacks that had taken place since Draco had been released, then there was a good chance some of the more demanding members of the council would get their way and have him executed.
There wasn't a chance in hell Draco was going to allow that to happen. He still hadn't had the opportunity to yell at Harry, himself. He stretched briefly and picked out another file from a different folder, scan reading for anything of interest.
'Harry Potter, Aged 21, Level 1 Auror - Field Officer, British Division, Id Number 37247, seemed reluctant when he testified to discovering the defendant with the victim, Ron Weasley, knife in hand. His story of events was confirmed by co-worker Hermione Granger, giving almost the same statement. Due to Veritaserum not in use on many of the people involved with evidence in this trial, these reports were taken more serious than others as Miss Granger and Mister Potter both had an emotional attachment of some sort to the defendant prior to the incident and this hearing.'
Draco sighed, realising exactly how bad it had looked when they found him with Ron. But he also knew that Harry and Hermione hadn't seen the whole story.
Draco remembered it well, it had only been a few weeks before the execution that never came.
~~~~~~~~~~
There had been a vicious attack at Hogsmeade and it was undoubtedly an act by Mortel, which testing of the evidence later proved. Dumbledore, concerned for the students of Hogwarts, had requested the Ministry to provide some sort of protection, but forbade the Dementors to be around the children. Draco, Harry, Hermione, Ron and the new trainee, Morgan, arrived the next day, even though they hadn't technically been given clearance by any of their superiors. And as Ron was a Curse-breaker and not an Auror in the strictest sense of the word, he'd had to go under the guise of a guest teacher to the DADA classes.
They had divided the castle into five sections, each person getting thirteen floors to watch over during the night and then rotating to the following section the next evening. It wasn't as difficult as it sounded what with the portraits also taking up the watch and lending a hand in shifts.
For three nights all was calm and boring. Draco was starting to think that he would be quite happy to detonate the entire castle into rubble. On the fourth night, he was designated to the very top of the school. Hermione had the level below him, then Morgan, then Harry, leaving Ron to do the tour that included the dungeons.
He had been wandering, almost in a daze, not really paying much attention to his surroundings when he yawned and told himself to wake up. He was just about to head up one of the staircases that lead to the roof, when something started up down the corridor. He looked down and then walked to the nearest one where the Fat Lady was standing with five other portrait figures. They spotted him and frantically beckoned him closer.
"Oh, Malfoy, Malfoy." The Fat Lady panted out, keeping her voice low for some reason. "You have to go down."
"What? Why?"
"The portrait, three down, Gertrude, she had one of her visions again." The Fat Lady paused for breath. "She says the dungeon is dripping with blood. You have to go down, you have to stop what ever is happening."
Normally, Draco wouldn't listen to such rubbish. Trelawney had pretty much solidified his contempt for such matters as visions. But the portrait in question had once had another vision, back a few years when Draco was just beginning his sixth year. Given his disdain, he had dismissed it that time. Thankfully, he managed to live to regret it.
Thinking of that, it took him less than a second to react to this vision. He rushed down three flights and over to one of the statues near the opening to the Gryffindor dormitories. Violently, pushing it to the side, he raised his right hand and cut the tip of his pinkie finger on the jagged nail that had been placed there for convenience about thirty years back. He dabbed the tiny measure of blood that had welled up on to the wall, hoping that the concealment spell would still recognise him as a Slytherin.
It must have, because the hidden door became visible and he pushed hard, swinging it inwards. He didn't even bother to shut it, just groped blindly for one the brooms without looking. His hand closed over a handle and he hopped on and started to drop down at the same time. Small patches of light, the exits to each floor flashed past him at a frightening speed. He finally pulled to a shuddering halt when he reached the fully lit section, the bottom of the shaft, the dungeons.
He burst out of the small passage. "RON?" He received no answer. "WEASLEY?"
"You, the Malfoy boy! Over here!"
Draco recognised the portrait of the head of Slytherin that came before Snape and hurried over. "I'm looking for the red head."
"He went into the old forge." The portrait gave a tight smile. "I actually haven't seen him come out yet."
Draco nodded his thanks and headed for the second door on his left. Opening it and muttering for the torches to light answered almost all of his questions. His stood there, stunned for a few seconds before his mind forced his body to move. Ron was nailed to a wall with the same thick nails that always made you think of the crucifixion of Christ. A knife was levitated in front of the red head, just under his chin with his throat already partly cut open. Blood was slowly ebbing out and down the man's front.
Draco reached the other and searched his face for any sign that he could be seen. "Ron?" There was no reaction. Draco looked him over summarising that the spells for blindness and deafness were in place. He grabbed the knife and tried to pull it away but it wouldn't budge. Reaching for his wand, he tried to end the spells but to no avail. Deciding that these ones must have been of a different form to compensate for the fact that the victim was a fully grown wizard, he had no clue how to end them. "Damn it, I'm not a bloody Curse-breaker." He muttered under his breath. He gently laid his hand on Ron's shoulder causing the other to thrash just a little, mainly in the leg region.
Draco tried again to pull the knife out and away but just ended up holding on to it. "Shit, Weasley, I wish you could hear me." He squeezed the shoulder gently. A noise came from his left and his eyes scanned the shadowy area, realising that if this was done by Mortel, there was a good chance the killer was still close by.
He was just about to raise his wand and send for back up when he heard a gasp behind him. Spinning and, though he didn't realise it straight away, dragging the knife out of the soft flesh and away from the other man's throat, Draco found Harry and Hermione standing in the doorway, both staring at him in horror. He looked in confusion to his hand, seeing the knife that no longer seemed to be cursed. It took him less than a second to realise just how bad it looked. He gave a tense smile to the new arrivals to the scene. "Ah, no, it's not what it seems." They both raised their wands at him in silence and Draco gave a deep sigh. "Ah, shit."
"Don't move, Malfoy." Hermione growled out. Her brain was obviously working overtime to keep up with everything that was happening.
Draco held his arms out wide to his sides and dropped both the knife and his wand. "I didn't do anything wrong. It's not how it looks."
"Just to be safe, I think we'll take you into custody anyway. Ron, honey, can you hear me?"
~~~~~~~~~~
"Draco?"
The blonde blinked, snapping out of his thought and looked to the door. "Severus?"
"Would you like to come and have a drink?"
"Um ...."
"I believe it's fairly safe."
He nodded, hoping off the bed and knocking countless pieces of paper to the floor. "Sure, why not. I think I could use one." He followed the elder man to the chairs and hopped into the one he had claimed as his, many years ago.
"You seemed to be lost in thought just now."
"I was just thinking about the night I was arrested." Draco compared having the memory, instead of the brief touches he used to get in his dreams as his mind fought desperately against the repression spell. The closest he'd ever managed to get to his memories had been while he was asleep, as his subconscious tried to bring them forward.
"I heard your testimony of that, I went to the trial on all three days."
"Yeah, it was fairly exhausting, wasn't it?"
"It was strange to hear Harry stand up and basically condemn you."
"He just told them what he saw, it did look fairly incriminating. All of it."
"Yes, the lack of alibi, the blood of the previous victim on your cloak and your shoes."
"Our shoes."
"What?"
"We have the same shoe size so we buy four pairs of each type of shoe. We just wear whichever ones we grab."
"Ah, I see."
"Any news on how he's going?"
"Dumbledore came down and said that he's been placed under strict house arrest, due to the progressive weakening of his Patronus. Apparently his history still has some sway with the council."
"Pity, would be interesting to see how he likes being locked up in there, thinking that no-one was on his side."
"You hate him that much?"
Draco sighed and shook his head. "No. I don't hate him. I'm exceedingly pissed off with him, but I don't hate him." He smiled sadly. "To be truthful, if the situation had been reversed I can't honestly say I wouldn't have done the same ...... or worse."
"Then why are you so angry?"
Draco looked over and Snape could certainly see the pain in his eyes, if nowhere else. Something you never usually get to see from a Malfoy, unless they trusted you unconditionally.
"He knew very well that I believed it to be my last night on earth and when I asked him, practically begged him, to say he believed me when I said I was innocent, he didn't say a word, just looked at me." Draco threw the folder away violently. "I mean, he didn't even have the decency to lie!"
Snape smiled slightly at Draco's scowl but didn't say anything in reply. Instead, he looked to his time piece that was over on the desk. Clearing his throat he waited for Draco to look back. "It's eleven o'clock."
Draco's eyes flicked to the desk for a moment. "Well, then I guess you'd better fetch it for me."
"Are you sure this is what you want to do?"
The blonde nodded calmly. "This is how it has to be."
Snape stood and walked to the cupboard that ran along the back wall. He opened it after deactivating the locking spell and selected a large phial filled with a grey liquid. Walking back, he handed it over to his former student and watched as the young man glared at it, trying to work up the spirit to drink it. "You don't have to do this."
Draco nodded again. "Yes, I do." Scrunching his face up, even though the potion smelt mild and had rather a pleasant taste, he drank it down quickly. "Well, that wasn't too bad, but I've always hated doing this."
Snape gave a grim smile, nodding again himself and sat down, waiting for when the potion would complete its task.
To Be Continued.
Warnings: Some blood mentioned but it's okay.
.
.
.
Blood & Nails.
.
Part Twenty Six. Live The Dream.
'During his trial, Draco Malfoy, Aged 21, Level 1 Auror - Field Officer, British Division, Id Number 37226, showed little remorse for his crimes and verbally maintained his innocence throughout.
Even as the 'Guilty' verdict was announced, he showed only disbelief. While many thought this to be that he may have in fact been innocent, I personally hold true to the statement I made before the trial, that the prisoner simply believed that his money, status and connections would be able to swing the court's decision in his favour.
Due to the violent nature of the crimes, coupled with his lack of remorse, I see no reason to waive the sentence for a more lenient term and I am overruling the objection to appeal, and ordering the punishment of execution to be upheld.
Judge Acerb'
Draco scrunched his nose up and tossed that piece of paper back into the pile. Judge Acerb had never liked him anyway, so he wasn't too surprised. But why that Judge was permitted in on this case, given his well known prejudice towards the Malfoy family, was beyond the young man as he spent another day sifting through files.
His eyes ached but he knew that he didn't have any time for just sitting back and doing nothing. If they were going to charge Harry with accessory to all the attacks that had taken place since Draco had been released, then there was a good chance some of the more demanding members of the council would get their way and have him executed.
There wasn't a chance in hell Draco was going to allow that to happen. He still hadn't had the opportunity to yell at Harry, himself. He stretched briefly and picked out another file from a different folder, scan reading for anything of interest.
'Harry Potter, Aged 21, Level 1 Auror - Field Officer, British Division, Id Number 37247, seemed reluctant when he testified to discovering the defendant with the victim, Ron Weasley, knife in hand. His story of events was confirmed by co-worker Hermione Granger, giving almost the same statement. Due to Veritaserum not in use on many of the people involved with evidence in this trial, these reports were taken more serious than others as Miss Granger and Mister Potter both had an emotional attachment of some sort to the defendant prior to the incident and this hearing.'
Draco sighed, realising exactly how bad it had looked when they found him with Ron. But he also knew that Harry and Hermione hadn't seen the whole story.
Draco remembered it well, it had only been a few weeks before the execution that never came.
~~~~~~~~~~
There had been a vicious attack at Hogsmeade and it was undoubtedly an act by Mortel, which testing of the evidence later proved. Dumbledore, concerned for the students of Hogwarts, had requested the Ministry to provide some sort of protection, but forbade the Dementors to be around the children. Draco, Harry, Hermione, Ron and the new trainee, Morgan, arrived the next day, even though they hadn't technically been given clearance by any of their superiors. And as Ron was a Curse-breaker and not an Auror in the strictest sense of the word, he'd had to go under the guise of a guest teacher to the DADA classes.
They had divided the castle into five sections, each person getting thirteen floors to watch over during the night and then rotating to the following section the next evening. It wasn't as difficult as it sounded what with the portraits also taking up the watch and lending a hand in shifts.
For three nights all was calm and boring. Draco was starting to think that he would be quite happy to detonate the entire castle into rubble. On the fourth night, he was designated to the very top of the school. Hermione had the level below him, then Morgan, then Harry, leaving Ron to do the tour that included the dungeons.
He had been wandering, almost in a daze, not really paying much attention to his surroundings when he yawned and told himself to wake up. He was just about to head up one of the staircases that lead to the roof, when something started up down the corridor. He looked down and then walked to the nearest one where the Fat Lady was standing with five other portrait figures. They spotted him and frantically beckoned him closer.
"Oh, Malfoy, Malfoy." The Fat Lady panted out, keeping her voice low for some reason. "You have to go down."
"What? Why?"
"The portrait, three down, Gertrude, she had one of her visions again." The Fat Lady paused for breath. "She says the dungeon is dripping with blood. You have to go down, you have to stop what ever is happening."
Normally, Draco wouldn't listen to such rubbish. Trelawney had pretty much solidified his contempt for such matters as visions. But the portrait in question had once had another vision, back a few years when Draco was just beginning his sixth year. Given his disdain, he had dismissed it that time. Thankfully, he managed to live to regret it.
Thinking of that, it took him less than a second to react to this vision. He rushed down three flights and over to one of the statues near the opening to the Gryffindor dormitories. Violently, pushing it to the side, he raised his right hand and cut the tip of his pinkie finger on the jagged nail that had been placed there for convenience about thirty years back. He dabbed the tiny measure of blood that had welled up on to the wall, hoping that the concealment spell would still recognise him as a Slytherin.
It must have, because the hidden door became visible and he pushed hard, swinging it inwards. He didn't even bother to shut it, just groped blindly for one the brooms without looking. His hand closed over a handle and he hopped on and started to drop down at the same time. Small patches of light, the exits to each floor flashed past him at a frightening speed. He finally pulled to a shuddering halt when he reached the fully lit section, the bottom of the shaft, the dungeons.
He burst out of the small passage. "RON?" He received no answer. "WEASLEY?"
"You, the Malfoy boy! Over here!"
Draco recognised the portrait of the head of Slytherin that came before Snape and hurried over. "I'm looking for the red head."
"He went into the old forge." The portrait gave a tight smile. "I actually haven't seen him come out yet."
Draco nodded his thanks and headed for the second door on his left. Opening it and muttering for the torches to light answered almost all of his questions. His stood there, stunned for a few seconds before his mind forced his body to move. Ron was nailed to a wall with the same thick nails that always made you think of the crucifixion of Christ. A knife was levitated in front of the red head, just under his chin with his throat already partly cut open. Blood was slowly ebbing out and down the man's front.
Draco reached the other and searched his face for any sign that he could be seen. "Ron?" There was no reaction. Draco looked him over summarising that the spells for blindness and deafness were in place. He grabbed the knife and tried to pull it away but it wouldn't budge. Reaching for his wand, he tried to end the spells but to no avail. Deciding that these ones must have been of a different form to compensate for the fact that the victim was a fully grown wizard, he had no clue how to end them. "Damn it, I'm not a bloody Curse-breaker." He muttered under his breath. He gently laid his hand on Ron's shoulder causing the other to thrash just a little, mainly in the leg region.
Draco tried again to pull the knife out and away but just ended up holding on to it. "Shit, Weasley, I wish you could hear me." He squeezed the shoulder gently. A noise came from his left and his eyes scanned the shadowy area, realising that if this was done by Mortel, there was a good chance the killer was still close by.
He was just about to raise his wand and send for back up when he heard a gasp behind him. Spinning and, though he didn't realise it straight away, dragging the knife out of the soft flesh and away from the other man's throat, Draco found Harry and Hermione standing in the doorway, both staring at him in horror. He looked in confusion to his hand, seeing the knife that no longer seemed to be cursed. It took him less than a second to realise just how bad it looked. He gave a tense smile to the new arrivals to the scene. "Ah, no, it's not what it seems." They both raised their wands at him in silence and Draco gave a deep sigh. "Ah, shit."
"Don't move, Malfoy." Hermione growled out. Her brain was obviously working overtime to keep up with everything that was happening.
Draco held his arms out wide to his sides and dropped both the knife and his wand. "I didn't do anything wrong. It's not how it looks."
"Just to be safe, I think we'll take you into custody anyway. Ron, honey, can you hear me?"
~~~~~~~~~~
"Draco?"
The blonde blinked, snapping out of his thought and looked to the door. "Severus?"
"Would you like to come and have a drink?"
"Um ...."
"I believe it's fairly safe."
He nodded, hoping off the bed and knocking countless pieces of paper to the floor. "Sure, why not. I think I could use one." He followed the elder man to the chairs and hopped into the one he had claimed as his, many years ago.
"You seemed to be lost in thought just now."
"I was just thinking about the night I was arrested." Draco compared having the memory, instead of the brief touches he used to get in his dreams as his mind fought desperately against the repression spell. The closest he'd ever managed to get to his memories had been while he was asleep, as his subconscious tried to bring them forward.
"I heard your testimony of that, I went to the trial on all three days."
"Yeah, it was fairly exhausting, wasn't it?"
"It was strange to hear Harry stand up and basically condemn you."
"He just told them what he saw, it did look fairly incriminating. All of it."
"Yes, the lack of alibi, the blood of the previous victim on your cloak and your shoes."
"Our shoes."
"What?"
"We have the same shoe size so we buy four pairs of each type of shoe. We just wear whichever ones we grab."
"Ah, I see."
"Any news on how he's going?"
"Dumbledore came down and said that he's been placed under strict house arrest, due to the progressive weakening of his Patronus. Apparently his history still has some sway with the council."
"Pity, would be interesting to see how he likes being locked up in there, thinking that no-one was on his side."
"You hate him that much?"
Draco sighed and shook his head. "No. I don't hate him. I'm exceedingly pissed off with him, but I don't hate him." He smiled sadly. "To be truthful, if the situation had been reversed I can't honestly say I wouldn't have done the same ...... or worse."
"Then why are you so angry?"
Draco looked over and Snape could certainly see the pain in his eyes, if nowhere else. Something you never usually get to see from a Malfoy, unless they trusted you unconditionally.
"He knew very well that I believed it to be my last night on earth and when I asked him, practically begged him, to say he believed me when I said I was innocent, he didn't say a word, just looked at me." Draco threw the folder away violently. "I mean, he didn't even have the decency to lie!"
Snape smiled slightly at Draco's scowl but didn't say anything in reply. Instead, he looked to his time piece that was over on the desk. Clearing his throat he waited for Draco to look back. "It's eleven o'clock."
Draco's eyes flicked to the desk for a moment. "Well, then I guess you'd better fetch it for me."
"Are you sure this is what you want to do?"
The blonde nodded calmly. "This is how it has to be."
Snape stood and walked to the cupboard that ran along the back wall. He opened it after deactivating the locking spell and selected a large phial filled with a grey liquid. Walking back, he handed it over to his former student and watched as the young man glared at it, trying to work up the spirit to drink it. "You don't have to do this."
Draco nodded again. "Yes, I do." Scrunching his face up, even though the potion smelt mild and had rather a pleasant taste, he drank it down quickly. "Well, that wasn't too bad, but I've always hated doing this."
Snape gave a grim smile, nodding again himself and sat down, waiting for when the potion would complete its task.
To Be Continued.