Disclaimer: OK, I admit it; I got cold feet. I'm blushing, even though you can't see me. Tee hee! Anyway, no charries, places or spells are mine etc etc …

Chapter 3: Innocent Until Proven Guilty

'Mum?'

'Hello Draco,' said Narcissa Malfoy, standing up from her chair.

'What … what are you doing here?' spluttered Draco.

'I was owled by Dumbledore,' she said stiffly. Draco was shocked. He had no idea she was here!

'Please, Narcissa, Cornelius, sit. You too, students.' Dumbledore strode behind his desk. For the first time, Draco noticed both Snape and McGonagall. Wow, he thought, I am special.

He sat down next to Narcissa, still stunned she was there, and then looked up at Dumbledore.

'We're expecting two more visitors,' he said, sitting down. 'We'll wait for them to begin.'

The next few minutes were incredibly boring. Draco was nervous about what was going to happen, and who the last two people were (maybe they were executioners or something), but it was dulled a little when he looked at his mother.

The chairs were placed in a circle, with Dumbledore's desk at the top. There were two chairs left, on the other side of the circle from Draco. They were further up, too - closer to Dumbledore's desk then him, and Draco had the distinct feeling that there might have been a reason for that. While he was pondering that, the office door swung open, and Madam Pomfrey entered, followed by two plain-looking people, a man and a woman, who looked like they'd been crying, but were still having a look around. He probably should've been able to guess right then and there who they were, but Draco's brain wasn't thinking clearly.

'Ah,' said Dumbledore, getting to his feet and crossing the office to them. 'Mr Granger, Mrs Granger, how nice to meet you. But dreadful about the circumstances. Please, do sit down,' he motioned them towards the last two chairs. They nodded and sat down. Draco's brain was frozen, but still trying to work.

So, these two were Granger's parents, eh? Muggles in Hogwarts. That must be a first. But, and now Draco began to get scared, why were they here? Was Hermione dead or something? What had happened? They'd only had one day of searching; they weren't going to convict him yet, surely?

He glanced at Mr and Mrs Granger, but they seemed to be avoiding his gaze. They were instead thanking Harry, Ron and Ginny, who had been comforting them.

'Well, Dumbledore,' said Fudge, and Draco thought he seemed too cheerful given the circumstances. 'Shall we begin?'

'Yes,' said Dumbledore, casting Draco a sorrowful look. 'Yes, I suppose we should.'

Draco glanced at his mother. She didn't seem any more relaxed then Dumbledore. This did nothing to soothe his nerves.

'Well,' said Fudge, who put on a saddened voice for the Grangers. 'We're all here for one reason; Hermione Granger has been missing for over twenty-four hours. Now, Misters Potter and Weasley, as well as Miss Weasley, believe that Mr Malfoy is behind the disappearance, which seemed to occur at two o'clock yesterday afternoon.'

A choke escaped Mrs Granger, and she shot Draco a look. It was blank, and he could tell she just wanted to look at him. To see his face. I'm not a murderer, he wanted to say, I'm not even a kidnapper! But he held his tongue, wisely, he was sure.

'Mr Malfoy, what do you have to say in your defence?' Fudge barked at him.

'Well, yes, actually, I have something to say, and I also have two questions.'

'Well, spit them out, boy!'

'Number one: are we in court?' Draco asked the room at large. 'Number two: why are we in court; we haven't even finished the search of the school. And my defensive statement is: I didn't do it. I didn't kidnap Hermione Granger; I did not murder her or do anything else to her. I am innocent.'

'We didn't accuse you of murdering her!' exclaimed Fudge, sounding delighted. 'Are you admitting to something, Mr Malfoy?'

'No, I'm just getting in first before you accuse me of rape and murder and everything else you can think of.' Draco replied, ignoring the whimper from Mrs Granger.

Fudge looked put out.

'Uh-huh,' he said, lost for words for a moment.

'What about my questions: are you going to answer them?'

'Yes, of course,' Fudge cleared his throat. 'We are not in court, Mr Malfoy; we are just trying to establish whether or not you had something to do with Miss Granger's disappearance. And number two: we are giving you a taste of a court-setting, because, if, after these three days, Miss Granger is not found, you will be formally accused and sent to court and tried for kidnapping and possibly more.'

'Well, I didn't do it.'

'We have eye-witnesses that say they saw you pick Miss Granger up and try to strangle her!'

'Now that's going a little far,' protested Draco, looking from the Grangers to Narcissa. 'She insulted me, so I picked her up by her robes. She wasn't in any danger of suffocating, I swear!'

'Liar,' said Harry acidly.

'Shut up, Potter,' snapped Draco. 'Anyway, then Potter and Weasley attacked me, so I threw Grang – Hermione out of the way, into some fellow Slytherins. Then she set my robes alight with one of her spells. And that's what happened!' he added, as everyone looked rather disbelieving.

'Hermione was trying to hit you because she couldn't breathe!' said Ron viciously. 'You were choking her!'

Everyone looked from Ron to Draco.

'I was not,' he said, 'and besides, what difference would that make anyway? Potter and Weasley are always attacking me; Granger too, she's always casting spells on me. Why doesn't anyone put them to court?'

'Because we always have a legitimate reason, Malfoy,' said Harry angrily. 'You always provoke us.'

'Well, maybe Potty and the Weasel should grow up a bit, so they learn not to always take the bait?' said Draco in a baby-ish voice. Ron's ears went red and Harry seemed to glow with anger. Draco, despite himself, was quite impressed with Harry's ability to glow an orange-red colour. Of course, it might just be his imagination. On second thoughts, it probably was.

'Well, maybe Malfoy should grow up himself, so he can think of more original and grown-up nicknames?' snapped Harry.

Draco opened his mouth, but Dumbledore interrupted.

'Hush boys!' he said calmly, glancing at each of them. 'Please, no more fighting, at least not at the moment.'

'Yeah,' said Ginny, an idea already forming in her head. 'We all want one thing here, so let's try to get along, OK?'

'What do we both want?' said Ron, apparently disgusted at the thought of wanting the same thing as Draco. Draco happened to feel the same way. But Ginny grinned; her plan was already working.

'Hermione,' she said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. 'We all want Hermione back.'

'I don't want that Mudblood back!' Draco snapped without thinking. 'I'm glad she's gone; one less on the Dream Team –' then he stopped. Oh no! Draco swallowed nervously as everyone stared at him, a triumphant look on Ginny's face. What have I done? He thought desperately, looking at Narcissa. She didn't look surprised, merely aggrieved. I may as well have confessed! Draco bit his lip and looked at Dumbledore, who was also staring at him.

'Well,' Fudge cleared his throat. 'Thank you for that piece of information, Mr Malfoy.' His eyes glinted maliciously. 'We'll know where to find you in three days.' He stood up and everyone else followed suit. 'Although,' he continued, 'I don't see why we should wait – he's clearly guilty; we all heard what he just said. I should just take the boy with me now. What do you say, Dumbledore?'

'Mr Fudge,' said Narcissa, speaking for the first time since she'd greeted her son. 'I do not think you have a right to do that. The agreement was: search the castle for three days. If the girl – Miss Granger – is not found, then you may question my son. I refuse to allow you to go back on your word, Minister.'

Draco looked at his mother gratefully; he was sure they'd take him and throw him straight in Azkaban. Fudge looked around uncomfortably.

'Yes, well … yes, I suppose we could … Mr and Mrs Granger,' he said suddenly, turning to them. 'What do you think?' He turned back to the rest of them. 'I think the final decision should be based on what they want; she is, after all, their daughter.' Draco's chest tightened painfully; Harry, Ron and Ginny were watching him gleefully. He looked at Hermione's parents; Mrs Granger's eyes were red and puffy, her sniffling still heard; Mr Granger's face was much harder; he was gazing at Draco like someone might look at a spider; pure dislike was etched on his face. Draco began to feel his freedom slip away; he knew what they'd say. As he was already standing, he tensed, ready to run if they did indeed condemn him to Azkaban.

But they surprised him. They surprised him so much that he just wanted to run up to them and hug them. Which he would never do.

'I want our daughter back,' sniffled Mrs Granger; she shared a glance wit her husband and then said, 'but he's innocent until proven guilty.'

Draco sagged back down onto his chair.

'Wha – what?' said Fudge, obviously flabbergasted.

'We don't want to condemn a boy unless he did indeed do something with Hermione. And we don't know that for sure, so … Hermione described Dementors to us when she came home after her third year.' She shuddered. 'I would never condemn a man – let alone a boy – to that unless he deserved it.'

Draco wanted to catch her eye, to thank her, but she wouldn't look at him. Mr Granger was though.

'Although,' he said, standing up and glaring at Draco, 'if she has indeed been kidnapped or hurt in any way, and it has something to do with you … well, then we won't hesitate. Do you understand that, Malfoy?'

'Yes,' said Draco, 'but it wasn't me, sir. I swear, it wasn't me.'

Mr Granger just shot him a look that plainly told Draco he didn't believe him, and then helped his wife out of her chair. As they left, Harry stopped by Draco on the way to the door.

'It better not be you, Malfoy. For your sake. Because the Ministry won't have much to deal with by the time me and Ron finish with you, got it?' He didn't wait for an answer, he just continued walking. Draco watched him go, his hand itching to get around his wand, but knew it would be very unwise.

Once everyone was gone besides Draco, Narcissa, Fudge, Dumbledore and Snape, Fudge turned to Dumbledore while watching Draco out the corner of his eye.

'Watch him, Dumbledore,' he said quietly, but not quietly enough. 'Don't let him go near that Weasley girl, OK? I don't trust him as far as I could move his hair, and that's not far. We don't need another Gryffindor girl missing.'

Draco glared at him as he left. Move his hair indeed. Did Fudge think his hair was naturally slicked down? What a moron. Maybe he'd just have to not slick his hair down the next time he saw Fudge, although he doubted his opinion of him would change. No, Fudge was a natural moron, of that Draco was sure. They'd probably be better with Arthur Weasley as Minister of Magic. Draco snorted at the thought. Yeah, right.

'Dumbledore, I don't like the action being taken against my son; he has done nothing wrong, and apart from a little brawl he had with the missing girl, no one has any proof that he has.' Narcissa was glaring elegantly at Dumbledore; there was nothing she did inelegantly.

'I completely agree, Mrs Malfoy,' replied Dumbledore gently. 'I didn't know until this morning Cornelius was even going to be here – he was going to watch the Quidditch match; he wanted to see Harry play – and I certainly didn't know he'd want to take matters into his own hands. I was only going to notify him after the three-day-search. I feel terrible about this mishandling of the situation.'

'Well, you should Dumbledore; Fudge is trying to put an innocent boy in Azkaban!'

So it was true, thought Draco grimly; they were going to send him to Azkaban. He felt ill at the thought; he hated Dementors more than anything in the world. Except perhaps Potter. Yes, he was an exception. But his father was in Azkaban … hang on … since when did Azkaban hold juvenile kidnappers? He asked Dumbledore that question.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful.

'I think Cornelius is making an exception because of your father … highly irresponsible, but there you are.'

Both Narcissa and Draco bristled at that.

'Are you insinuating something, Mr Dumbledore?' said Narcissa, her voice one full of suppressed anger.

'No, absolutely not – you can hardly say that Lucius is a decent man, though.'

'Decent man?!' Narcissa shrieked at Dumbledore, who looked taken aback. 'There is no man more decent than Lucius! You know nothing about our family, Dumbledore, so don't try to insinuate that you do!' She turned on her heel. 'Come on, Draco, we're leaving.'

Draco began to follow his mother, feeling nearly as angry at Dumbledore as Narcissa, but Dumbledore called them back.

'I'm sorry, Narcissa, but Draco can't go anywhere.'

'What? He's my son, Dumbledore; I'll take him wherever I like!'

'No, you can't; he has to stay here; he'll be under investigation in a few days and one of the conditions if he's not taken now –'

'You sound very sure that this Granger girl is not going to be found!'

'I didn't mean that, but it's not very likely she'll turn up, is it?'

'Fine!' Narcissa swooped down on Draco and kissed him on the cheek. 'I'll see you soon, Draco. Don't worry; everything will be fine; you are not going to Azkaban.'

'Goodbye Mother,' said Draco, returning the kiss.

Narcissa glared at Dumbledore once more, and then walked out the office. Dumbledore sighed.

'Severus, please escort her out.' He sat back down behind his desk and put his head in his hands. Snape nodded and followed Narcissa out. As the door shut, Draco turned back to Dumbledore, hating him more than anyone he'd ever hated before, including Potter.

'Before you ask, Mr Malfoy, you are sleeping in here again, so I suggest you go down to dinner.'

'I'm not hungry,' said Draco nastily.

'Fine. Suit yourself. I'll be in my quarters.' With that, Dumbledore went up the stairs to a small room, waving his wand as he went. Draco's unmade camp bed stood in the middle of the floor, the chairs gone.

'Whatever,' muttered Draco, crawling into bed. That day had been the worst day of his life, but the worst part was not knowing if it was going to get any better.