Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, nor do I own Harry Potter. (J.K Rowling owns them, lucky woman.) I only own my original characters and my own original plot.

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Chapter 36: Affection

Jesabelle sighed as she lay on the small bed, staring up at the ceiling.

After escaping the crowd at the Ministry, the Aurors brought her to a car, then they drove to the safe house, which, in truth, wasn't as far away from the Ministry of Magic Headquarters as she would have liked.

Sean Freedman, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Hestia Jones then took over. Apparently, no one wanted to pull extra hours to watch over her in the Auror section of the Ministry, so the three said Aurors volunteered.

She was happy, actually, that she was able to get them as her guards. Better them, than a bunch of thick headed amateurs fresh out of training.

Sean Freedman walked into the small room, watching as Jesabelle turned her head and sat up in the bed, tucking her legs underneath her.

She was still wearing her Hogwarts uniform, since the Aurors didn't allow her some time to change into something more comfortable, not even for the Hearing.

"Here are your things; I was able to sneak them out of the evidence lock-up room." Freedman said, putting down the backpacks he was holding in his hands.

"Thank you." Jesabelle said, looking out of the small window. She could see the trees that surrounded the invisible, unplottable house. She looked up, admiring the beautiful star filled sky, knowing with a pang in her heart that Draco was up there with them.

"I wonder if there will be another night like this when I will be able to look out into the sky tonight and admire the beauty of the stars." She said, looking at Freedman, who had taken a seat next to the bed.

"I wonder the same thing as well, especially since the talk of the war has been increasing since you were arrested." He said.

Jesabelle sighed, opening one of the bags and pulling out a pair of flares and a black turtleneck, next digging through and pulling out her worn out sneakers, eyeing them as she placed them in front of her.

"We'll be shipping you out in two days." Freedman said.

Jesabelle nodded in response, returning her attention again towards the window, its bars reflecting the light that shown from the half hidden moon that began to appear in the sky.

"Would you like to go to Draco's funeral service tomorrow?" Freedman asked.

Jesabelle turned to him in surprise.

"What?" she asked. "What do you mean?"

"The service is taking place at a small estate on one of the Malfoy properties." Freedman said. "Narcissa wanted me to ask you if you wanted to attend. Only a handful of people are going, Harry and a few members of the Order included."

"Harry's going to be there?" Jesabelle asked, shocked.

"Yes, he said he wanted to pay his respects." Freedman said. "So, would you like us to take you? Narcissa has already ensured that no other Ministry official, besides those connected to the Order will be present."

"What about Lucius?" Jesabelle asked, her tone iced over. "And the Death Eaters?"

"None of them are stupid enough to show themselves in public." Freedman said. "From what Narcissa has told me, they are going into hiding until the uproar about you has died out."

Jesabelle nodded again.

"Yes." She said a few seconds later. "I would like to go and pay my respects."

Freedman nodded and exited the room, locking the door behind him. Standard procedure.

Jesabelle sighed and changed into her pajamas, daring the risk of slumber and sleep took her.

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"It has been done my Lord." Gabriel Parker said as she knelt before Voldemort, her head hung low as a sign of respect.

"I am very pleased with you Parker." Voldemort said, patting her head lightly.

"Thank you, my Lord." Parker said, rising as Voldemort dismissed her, leaving the room.

"Everything is going well, my Lord." Lucius Malfoy said, appearing from the shadows.

"Yes, all is going much too well." Voldemort said.

"Does something bother you my Lord?" Malfoy asked.

"Ah, Lucius do not think that everything is going well too soon, for we cannot see the future." Voldemort said.

"And what of our Dragon in training?" Malfoy said.

"He shall not be released to pillage the world with his strength and cunning until he and all is ready." Voldemort said. Malfoy's face portrayed that of disgust.

"Until then, we shall watch my daughter, the Ministry, and Potter and this senseless 'Order of the Phoenix'. Then we shall push forward in the plan, and then we shall say that all will be well."

"Do you think the curse has been taking its effect on Jesabelle?" Malfoy asked.

"I do not think, Malfoy, I know." Voldemort said.

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Jesabelle's eyes shot open, being met with nearly total darkness, discounting the oil lantern at the side table and the moonlight that shone through the small barred window.

She was met with a pain on her Dark Mark.

She shot up, clutching it as it burned through her skin. It began to bleed unto the thin sheets as she gritted her teeth to keep herself from crying out.

Then, the pain subsided, and she exhaled heavily, sinking into the mattress, wiping her forehead with her right hand, finding it drenched with cold sweat, her palms already beginning to fill with it.

She took slowing breaths in and out, trying to ease her pounding heart. She knew it; Parker was just put out there as some sort of pawn, like some sort of display, just so that they could make odds look even worse for her.

If he thinks that after this I'm going to go home crying, he's wrong. Damn lover killer. I hate him.

Jesabelle stole a look at the moon, remembering at once how much she missed its serenity in the times she was imprisoned in Azkaban. She looked away before her memories of the prison flooded her mind again. She needed to maintain control.

She got out of the bed and changed into fresh clothes, removing bandages from her backpack and wrapping it around her wrist. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

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Shacklebolt and Freedman eyed the surroundings of the outside of the cabin as Jesabelle and Jones stepped into the car.

In a few minutes, they would get to the Malfoy estate. Jesabelle's ensemble was that of black. Black pants, Black turtleneck, black shoes, black robes.

She pulled up her hood and put on her sunglasses as the Malfoy country estate came into view; she didn't want to be recognized for who she was.

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Jones escorted her from the car, Shacklebolt and Freedman following close behind.

Even if it was just a country estate, the mansion was humongous, to say the least.

Humph, leave it to Lucius Malfoy to overdo things yet again, Jesabelle thought as they walked in through the double doors.

The assembly only consisted of about twenty to thirty people. She saw Harry and the others sitting near the front, their faces set to neutral. She looked ahead, and her breath hitched.

Draco's coffin lay ahead of her, the day's sunlight shinning upon it like a spotlight.

Jesabelle turned away from the sight and saw Narcissa, sitting in the seat, in the row, closest to the coffin, silent tears running down her face. Jesabelle pitied her; she had watched her son die as she had. They both shared the same pain.

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The service came and went in half an hour and the time came for the eulogies to be presented to the assembly.

Jesabelle and the rest of the people present were surprised to see Harry step up the platform.

"Good morning ladies and gentleman." Harry began, looking at the people in front of him.

Jesabelle removed her sunglasses, just as Harry looked over at her direction. He recognized her instantly and gave her a small nod. Jesabelle returned the nod and Harry continued.

"I know it is considered as very odd for me to come up here and say a eulogy for Mr. Malfoy, considering the type of relationship we had, but I thought this might be the most appropriate way to address a truce between myself and his spirit."

Narcissa sniffled slightly and looked upon Harry, admiring his respect for her son. He was one of the few people who really did respect him, and to think, they were mortal enemies.

"In the seven year that I knew Draco Malfoy, he was a Slytherin at heart. He was arrogant, mean, ambitious, proud, and damn near impossible to tolerate, if you don't mind me saying."

From where she was standing at the back of the room, Jesabelle laughed through the tears that were beginning to fill her eyes.

"In all the time that I knew him, that was the way her acted towards people, at least, until a certain girl came to Hogwarts."

Ron and the others turned around, meeting Jesabelle's eyes, they nodded, and she returned the greeting.

"We were always given the impression that Draco Malfoy did not have a heart; that he felt no compassion, and that he did not even know how to love. But when this girl, this woman, came to Hogwarts, she changed everything. She proved that Draco Malfoy did have a heart. She proved that Draco Malfoy was modest. She proved that Draco Malfoy knew how to love."

Harry paused, letting everyone absorb what he had said. Only those who knew Jesabelle Potter knew that she was the girl Harry spoke of.

"Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater; he was the son of Lucius Malfoy, one of the most dangerous Death Eater in England, and the son of Narcissa Malfoy, a now heartbroken mother."

Jesabelle had twitched at Lucius' name and eyed Narcissa, who was still weeping silently. She thought of walking over to her and embracing, but thought against it; the Ministry did not need to know about her little appearance here, especially since she's being accused for his murder.

Damn Parker, Jesabelle thought. One day, Jesabelle, one day she will die a most painful death.

"But for this woman, he denounced the Dark Lord, and was tortured, ultimately resulting in his death." Harry continued. "What can we say now? Draco Malfoy did not do this out of arrogance. There is not pride in being tortured to death. But his purpose for it is nothing short of honorable."

Jesabelle saw Ron and Neville nod their heads in approval.

"He risked his life out of love for this woman. No longer can we say that Draco Malfoy did not know how to love. No longer can we say that Draco Malfoy did not have a heart. Today, we can say that Draco Malfoy is a man worth honoring, if only for today, despite the things he chose to do, and the side he chose to take."

"Most of you may still be under the belief that he was nothing but a worthless Death Eater, just as you think Jesabelle Potter to be that way."

Jesabelle twitched slightly at her names being mentioned paid it no further heed.

"You may think what you want to think, but I beg to differ. I, Harry Potter, along with my friends, forgive Draco Malfoy for his transgressions against us. I say in front of those present here today that I believe that Draco Malfoy is innocent, and that I honor the memory of his soul. Thank You."

No one clapped as Harry stepped off the platform, for everyone was impressed, but now was not the time to clap; they were supposed to be in mourning.

Everyone began to shuffle around as they stood up to bid their last farewell to Draco's body.

Jesabelle stepped up first, placing a single white rose on top of the lower, closed part of the coffin.

Taking a steadying breath, she looked at his face.

His pale face contrasted drastically with his blonde hair, which was not gelled back, but hanging down, framing his face. Jesabelle studied him. She knew the beauty he possessed, remembered every line, every feature of his face that she had memorized so long ago. The features that now would haunt her.

She reached out to his face, touching it with his bare hand, nearly flinching at the cold of his skin. Tears sprang to life and rolled down her face as she withdrew, turning away, her hood still up, making her way to the back, where she found Narcissa waiting for her.

"I am sorry for you loss, Narcissa." Jesabelle said softly to the aged woman in front of her.

"I am sorry for yours as well, darling." Narcissa said, embracing Jesabelle, their tears falling feely, both mourning for the loss of the one man that shed light in both their worlds of darkness.

And it was on June 26, Monday, that Draco Malfoy was buried, his body lying underneath the earth, but his soul finally released.

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St. Cecilia's Cemetery was just a ten minute drive from the 'safe house'.

It was Tuesday, June 27, the day after Draco's burial, the day Jesabelle was going to be transported to the next prison that was willing to take her.

Jesabelle looked out the window of the backseat of the car, watching as the trees passed by, the day warm, slightly shadowed by the rain clouds that were creeping in the sky above.

Two minutes later, the car stopped, and Freedman opened the door for her and she stepped out, still wearing the same outfit she wore the day before; she had refused to take it off.

She thanked Freedman and walked up the grassy field, passing the numerous graves that were spaced out. Most of the Malfoys were buried here. She would know, she knew almost everything there was to know about the top Death Eaters who served her father.

But she wasn't looking at any of the graves, and even though she had never been to this cemetery, she knew exactly where she was going.

She was carrying three white roses this time in her right hand, also carrying a piece of rolled up parchment as well.

Five minutes passed before she finally ended up in a secluded section of the cemetery, seeing only one gravestone on the grassy field.

Moving towards it, Jesabelle clutched the objects in her right hand tighter and arrived at the gravestone, crouching down in front of it, reading the text. She smiled inside; Narcissa put the exact words she had wanted to put.

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Draco Malfoy
1986 to 2004
Beloved son.
Damned Saint. Honorable Villain.
Once an enemy, now a friend.

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Jesabelle's face portrayed that of fatigue as she traced the words on the gravestone with her index finger.

Taking in a shaky breath, she tried to give it a small smile.

"Sorry I didn't stay for the final burial, Draco." She whispered. "I didn't think I would have lasted five minutes."

She paused, a slight breeze blowing through the cemetery, brushing the leaves of the trees.

"They're shipping me off today." She continued. "I just wanted to leave you with something."

With that, she placed the three roses at the foot of the grave and unrolled the parchment, reading to him what was written on it.

"Affection." Jesabelle began.

Drowning in the depths of cold despair
Blinded by darkness, unable to breathe
The ice cold water disguises my tears
And bites my skin numb
As I slowly fall to my death

My soul struggles to be released
I'm giving in, knowing there is no escape
I know no one is here to save me
Unexpectedly, a hand grabs mine
And slowly pulls me out of despair

His arms envelope me
Giving up his warmth to save me, why?
I've been alone all my life
It was like he knew that all I wanted
Was someone who cared

He read me so clearly like a book
How? Was I that transparent?
I them look up to see the light
The light of life and of bliss
The light I wish I have never received

The light surrounded us both
My dark, cold memories faded with the darkness
I was saved because he cared for me
One out of a million, he cared
I look up to thank him, but I see him fade and disappear

Who was he? I wish I knew
He saved me from the snares of death
By being my light down the path to bliss
He risked his life to save me
From my own dark, cold despair

He showed me that people could care
That someone could risk everything
Just to save you
He showed me that no one should ever be alone
That everyone should be happy

He has taught me so much
If only he was still here beside me to care for me
Revealing his identity to me
So I can thank him and show him
What he had shone me

"Affection." Jesabelle finished, tears running down her cheeks.

She kissed her fingertips and pressed it against the headstone, closing her eyes and weeping silently.

"Sleep well, my love." She said, her voice choked. "I love you Draco Malfoy. I'm sorry."

She lifted up the sleeves of her shirt and of her robes to be revealing her Dark Mark and her Azkaban brand bleeding. She sighed, standing up, looking down at the grave a last time before turning away.

She then came face to face with Blaise Zabaini, who happened to be another good friend of hers within her father's prison.

"Blaise." She whispered.

Blaise gave her a small smile before embracing her as she wept. Before she left, Blaise whispered in her ear, "Don't worry Jesabelle, he'll always be watching over you. He'll always love you, remember that."

Jesabelle nodded and slowly walked away, giving the grave another look before continuing on.

Blaise sighed, watching his best friend walk away, knowing the pain she endured. She never approached her before in the school year because of the whole rivalry between their houses. He didn't even know how he was going to approach her, especially since he hadn't seen her for two to three years. But he knew now, in the time that she would return, she would need him, and he would be there.

Blaise looked at the grave, sadness filling his eyes as he looked upon the headstone, the rose petals beginning to come off due to the breeze.

He bent down; picking up the parchment Jesabelle had left behind.

"The soul that is imprisoned will someday be liberated Jesabelle." Blaise whispered to Jesabelle's retreating figure. "Your grief will leave you one day. One day, Jesabelle, you will be free."

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Yay! I'm finished! *Throws confetti in the air, but chokes on it. Cough. Cough.* Don't worry everyone, I will give you word on the sequel in the next Author's Note I will post after this chapter!

Thank you to all of my reviewers!

Please read review!

P.S. Mystic Beauty wrote "Affection", not me, so give her the credit for the poem. Thank you. I love you Jenna (and your poem too)!