Dedicated to hydraspit (for always reading) and psquare (for the best review I have ever read).
Nymphadora Tonks hurried past row upon row of cubicles with Remus Lupin close at her heels. The frenetic buzz was such in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that no one noticed them rushing by.
"He's in here," she whispered a little too excitedly, coming to a sudden halt end of the hall. She pointed to the last door in the passageway, which was mounted with a shining gold plaque reading, 'Gawain Robards, Head of the Aurors'.
Lupin caught a glimpse of his own haggard reflection in the plaques pretentious gleam, and hesitated for a moment. Tonks squeezed his arm and smiled encouragingly. "It's alright. Robards wants the Ministry and the Order to work together, just like we do. He'll try his best."
She turned the handle and he followed her into the office. The room itself was spacious, but was in such a state of chaos that only a few feet of it was inhabitable. Only when Lupin edged around a teetering stack of envelopes and papers was he able to see the couch, and the fair-haired boy crouched over on it.
Draco looked up sharply when they entered the room, and Lupin immediately noticed the expression of fear sketched in the boys features. Perhaps it was just the florescent lights, but Draco looked very sickly indeed; his skin was unnaturally pale, and dark, puffy circles bruised the flesh around his eyes.
Recognition fluttered behind Dracos eyes, but it didnt seem to calm his nerves in the least.
"You must be Mr. Lupin," uttered a soft voice from behind them. Turning, Lupin saw a wizard he assumed to be Tonks boss; a middle aged man with barrel-shaped chest and broad lips. He was dressed immaculately, but looked a little rough around the edges, like he could have done nicely with a hot bath and a shave.
"Mr. Robards," Lupin said quickly, shaking the mans outstretched hand. "You can call me Remus. I'm here to represent the Order in this matter."
"Jolly good," Robards muttered, his words so rushed that they had to lean in to hear clearly, "Now, if you don't mind, let's get straight to business. I trust Tonks has already told you about our little delivery this morning."
Tonks looked between the two men, fidgeting. "I told Remus that Draco walked into the Ministry unarmed, and of his own accord, at six thirty-five this morning."
"I regret not letting you in to see the boy earlier," Robards said, "But you know, what with the Ministry guidelines and all...he had to undergo questioning before anything else could be done."
"Questioning?" Lupin asked, clearly taken back. "By what methods? What did you find out?"
Robards eyes widened in surprise. "The exact details are confidential to the Ministry, sir. I can tell you, however, that we have a very strong hunch that Mr. Malfoy here was directly involved with the recent attack on Hogwarts.
"Of course he was!" Lupin gaped at the Head Auror. "Harry Potter made that quite clear in his testimony--but he also said--"
"Mr. Lupin, as much faith as I personally have in Mr. Potter, the Ministry is not as quick to follow suit," Robard interrupted. "But what is helping his case greatly, is that we have multiple witnesses that are ready to back up his claims."
"But..." It was Tonks this time, speaking carefully, as if gathering her thoughts. "But...Harry was the only witness at the Astronomy Tower that night...and if the Ministry doesn't believe Harry when he says that Draco lowered his wand when he had the chance to kill Dumbledore--if they dont believe Harry's testimony, then what are they going to do with Draco?"
There was a soft cry, and they turned to see the boy staring at them as if they had all turned into Dementors right before his eyes. His pasty face had taken on a deep flush of scarlet instead, and his pupils were frantic pinpoints zipping between the three adults.
"That's right Draco, we know," Tonks affirmed triumphantly. "Harry told us that you were being forced by Voldemort to do all those horrible things to protect your family. He's even given testimony on your behalf! I'm so proud of you for coming back to the Ministry--Dumbledore would have been too, of course--doing the right thing, and now we can --"
Lupin put his hand on her arm to stop her. He knew Tonks had had little contact with Draco over the years--or the Malfoys for that matter, what with her mum being exiled from the family--but her unfailing desire to see the good in people (he couldnt seem to remember Harry being so tremendously forgiving of Malfoy's actions that night) was loosening her tongue a little too quickly.
But Draco could recognize a chance when he saw one. He summoned the tears, and they rushed forth quite effortlessly, rolling down his cheeks in wet streams.
"You-Know-Who...h-he...," he whispered, burying his head in his hands, "...killed my mother. She's dead." The words invoked shudders that he could have not faked, but as Tonks rushed to his side, he just stared into his palms, thinking furiously.
Bloody sodding hell! Potter was there that night! He heard all of that? Snape must have known it the entire time--the bastard knew Potter wouldn't let me take the fall. No wonder Snape sent me to the Ministry...he's just gambling that I won't end up in Azkaban!
Draco tried hard to focus on the voices in the room (though his words had left a substantial silence) , but found he could not get that nightfrom the Tower out of his head. He tried recounting his last conversation with Dumbledore word for word, now knowing that Harry was listening in, and felt an overpowering wave of humiliation. That boy knew all of his weaknesses now...
How dare he tell the Ministry that I--Dumbledores downfall!--am some pitiful Ministry-sympathizer just because...because of...The stream of thought was ludicrous, he knew, but inescapable. How can he assume to know what I was going to do, when I don't even know myself?
"He'll have to undergo trial, Tonks. There's no way around that, especially with the public looking for someone to blame. We've never had so many Howlers sent to aurors before, and all because of the Hogwarts incident," Robard was saying when Draco tuned back in. "They're out for blood, and the Ministry'd be daft not to follow a lead."
"A trial? With a full court, I imagine? That's how we're going to reward a frightened child whose just turned himself in? A child whos been manipulated by You-Know-Who all year? Don't you think his mum being murdered was terrible enough?"
Lupin and Draco gave her the same incredulous look at the exact same moment, although luckily, Dracos was hidden behind a mound of paperwork.
For the life of him, he couldn't understand why this witch would stick up for him. Hadn't she been there that night? Hadn't she heard what he'd done? But still, she was battling for him, her hand clenching his shoulder and a look of determination set on her face. He stared at that expression of pure belief, and for a moment--just a moment--he almost believed his innocence himself.
"Tonks, they have to follow procedure," Lupin said gently, his eyes locking with hers. She frowned but held her tongue. He turned back to the Head Auror. "What will happen to Draco in the meantime?"
"Well..." mumbled Robard, looking suddenly guilty. "There's two weeks until the trial, and I had considered keeping the boy in Azka--"
"You can't be serious--he hasn't even been tried yet!" Lupin exclaimed.
"Well it's just cells now, isnt it? All the Dementors have gone, haven't they? And with the recent Death Eater break-in, The Ministry's had to move out most of the prisoners anyway--shipping 'em off to undisclosed locations so that You-Know-Who can't find 'em."
"The Order could look after him!" Tonks practically shouted, as if stuck by a bolt of genius.
"I cannot see that being a very good idea, Nymphadora," Lupin said patiently. "Nor is it up tous alone todecide such things."
"Remus-- I can't send anothercousin off to Azkaban! I just can't-- its not fair!"
There was a moment when all three adults looked at each other exasperatedly, and Draco felt the blood thump in his ears at double-pace.
"Alright, alright," Robard interrupted, lifting his hands as a sign of defeat. "I'll have a room assigned for him, and he can stay at the Ministry until his trial."
Tonks broke out into a relieved grin, and Robard pointed his finger at her. "Don't be so pleased--he'll be confined to his quarters,witha guard placed on him every second of the day."
They spent the next ten minutes solidifying the final details, and once Lupin had secured the date and time of the trial, they were ready to go.
Tonks hugged Draco as if she had been doing so all her life (instead of being the scorned family outcast), and while part of him screamed MUDBLOOD! as she patted his back, he didnt pull away.
It would have been too obvious.
Tonks's hair turned brilliantly blue as she watched it in the full-length mirror; she titled her head and it grew down past her shoulders, curling noticeably at the ends.
"What do you think?" she asked as a pair of arms wrapped around her from behind.
"Lovely...mmmmm..." Lupin answered, burying his face in the curve of her neck. She squirmed as he nibbled; she was beyond ticklish, and he knew it.
They were standing in her room in number twelve, Grimmauld Place. It had been about a week since the visit to the Ministry, and they hadn't been able to spend much time together since then; work had consumed both their lives.
She leaned back into him and they stood there, swaying gently for a few minutes.
"Er...Remus?"
He looked up, his eyes half-closed and clouded. She could tell it was close to the full moon just by looking at him.
"I've been talking to some people in the Order...about the Draco thing," she mumbled.
This seemed to wake him up considerably, but he didnt move away. Looking up so he could study her face in the mirror, he asked simply, "And?"
"And, generally, they seem to think that Headquarters is as good a place as any to keep him if his trial goes well. I mean, where else would he go?"
Silence.
"Oh? Who have you spoken to?"
"Most everyone. Even if they can't stand the Malfoys, like Author, they'd still rather havehim under their thumb then out of reach. Shacklebot and Doge just want to interrogate him in their own way, but Molly and I really just want to give him a new start, you know? I told her about his mum and she just fell to--"
"Narcissa was a Death Eater, Tonks." Lupin interrupted, which was unlike him. "She would have killed both you and Molly if given half-a-seconds chance." Tonks cheeks started to get a pinkish tinge to them, and she broke eye contact. "And I hate to be skeptical of your cousin, sweetie--but I don't wholeheartedly believe him. We don't even know for sure that he's telling the truth about Narcissa. It is a very real possibility that he's an acting spy for Voldemort."
If only we still had Snape to read his thoughts and find out for sure, Lupin mused before he could stop himself.
"I'm not daft," Tonks snipped. "I know he could be, and I'd take full responsibility, I would. But Harry said Dumbledore wanted to help Draco, and so do I. It was, you know...the last thing Dumbledore tried to do, and...if it's something he would have wanted..."
"Oh," Lupin smiled, breathing softly in her ear. "Is that what this is about? One last mission for Dumbledore?"
She twisted around in his arms to eye him an accusingly. "What did you think it was about?"
"I dunno...At first I thought you were trying to salvage the family you never really knew--trying to fit in for once." He let the tiniest smile leak and she pinched him.
"I've done fine without those people my entire life, and I dont need to 'fit in' with them now! Just because I have some sympathy left for--"
He tried to explain, but ended up just making her more and more bristly until he had to grab her and hold her so close to him that all her words were muffled against his shirt.
Finally, when she had gone completely silent, he loosened his grip and she threw her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly.
Draco was miserable. Truly, truly miserable. He had been stuck in the same room for almost two weeks, abandoned in the beating heart of his enemy--the Ministry. Or, what had previously been his enemy, considering that the Dark Lord had dismissed him as easily as yesterdays rubbish. All his friends would soon follow suit once they heard that the Malfoy name was disgraced in Death Eater circles. His father was cowering in Azkaban, and his mother was dead...
He tried not to think of it, but the problem with being imprisoned was there was nothing to do but think. He spent practically a whole week sprawled out on the stone floor, starring at the ceiling and simpering. When he finally couldn't stand the raw, painful feeling for one moment longer, he compartmentalized the memory and put it away, like his Aunt Bellatrix had taught him to do during his Occlumency lessons.
On the first day of the second week, a memo wormed its way under the door and flew into his hands. He blinked, wondering how it had gotten around the security outside his room, and opened it. It read:
Well done on making it this far. I hope life isn't so comfortable in there that you forget your goal. Remember what we went over. Practice closing your mind, just in case. If you can get past the trial, The Order is planning to take you into their custody. The Dark Lord hasn't heard this news yet, but doesnt seem to care about your whereabouts. We'll be in contact.
-S
Release this note immediately.
Draco dropped the memo just in time for it to explode in a shower of green sparks, which he stomped out angrily.
"The Order? The bloody Order?" he growled, kicking the side of his bed. This was Snape's plan? He's the one that kills Dumbledore, but I have to burn for it? Straight into the bloody lion's den.
Then an unpleasant thought crossed his mind, and his lungs squeezed painfully. The Dark Lord is going to be furious if the Order takes me in. That, or...Draco closed his eyes. Or he'll want me to leak information on them. He'll try to use me again--but I can't! He has to know I can't! They'll find me out, and then I'm dead for sure! He'll never let me go now...he'll just keep using me until I get myself killed...
Draco fell back on the mattress, glaring up at the ceiling. "That bastard..." he mumbled, thinking of Snape. "He wants me dead and there's nothing I can do about it."
When the date of the trial finally came, it seemed that Severus would have his way. It was far less crowded in the courtroom then when Draco had visited with his father in the past. The seating around the dark stone walls was nearly empty, excluding a scattering of Order members, all of whom he recognized from rather unorthodox 'lessons.'
"Diggle, Dedalus," he could almost hear his father whisper. "In his second go-round with the Order. Always wears that pathetic hat. As senseless as a troll. Excitable. Bad knees. Frequents the Leaky Cauldron and lives in Kent with his Mudblood wife."
Draco had the peculiar feeling that the court had made their decision before even entering the windowless room. For one, keeping this trial so small must have involved quite a bit of sweeping under the rug. For another, he didn't even recognize the judge. Odder still, the jury had hardly looked in his direction.
Everything so far had been very straight to the point. Draco had been questioned ("yes, He let me go, yes, He killed my mother, yes, He wanted me to kill Dumbledore, no, I didnt want to,") and was led back to his seat.
Lupin once again represented the Order, offering to keep the boy under lock and key if the Court would allow it. He made a short argument on why this would be the wisest decision for all parties involved. No one in the room seemed surprised in the least to hear this, further establishing Draco's suspicions that strings had been pulled.
Just as Draco assumed the jury was finishing up, Harry Potter entered the court room. He was quickly signaled to the front, carefully avoiding Dracos appalled face as he made his way by. Something very cold slid down Draco's spine.
The Boy-Who-Lived looked substantially taller at first glance, but that was impossible--it had only been a matter of weeks since they had last seen each other, not nearly long enough to make a difference in height. Still, Harry seemed particularly imposing, conjuring in Draco's mind the fearful notion thathe himself had shrunk.
"Do you still maintain your testimony about the Malfoy boy, Mr. Potter?" The Court asked.
Harry merely nodded, his unkempt hair brushing the collar of his robe.
"That he lowered his wand?"
Harry nodded again. The jury twittered slightly at this, but Harry kept his eyes trained on the judge. The boy radiated self-confidence and purpose.
"Would you like to add anything to it before we make our decision?"
Harry paused for a long moment before answering. "Malfoy isn't evil. Hes a pathetic, lying, back-stabbing, Death Eater wannabe, and he's so full of hate he can hardly see, but he's not evil. He got in over his head--let himself be manipulated--because he's not very good at walking the walk. I think Voldemort letting him go is just further proof of that.Malfoy deserves a lot of things, but not Azkaban."
There was nothing angry behind Harrys word's; he was just giving his honest opinion.
Draco wanted to climb over the table separating them and pound Harry'sskull against the stone floor until it shattered. The impulse was so strong that the muscles in his arms actually rippled with the desire to inflict harm.
The small audience rumbled slightly, mostly because Harry had used Voldemort's name, but quickly regained their composure.
"Well then...you're finished?"
Harry nodded once more, and was dismissed. He walked back the way he came, once more passing as if he hadn't even seen the Malfoy sitting there. If Draco could have raised his own eyes, he would have noticed the bushy-haired girl and the red-headed boy waiting at the back door for their friend.
Instead, he was carefully compartmentalize and putting away the humiliation he felt rolling over him wave by wave.At worst his exterior was grim, but nothing out of place for the circumstance. He even managed to return a nod from Tonks.
After a few minutes of discussion, the jury broke for deliberation, and he was taken back to his room for the interlude.
He stood placidly in the middle of the room until the guard locked his door. The moment the bolt slid closed, Draco began to scream. He shrieked wordlessly, slamming his foot into the bedposts and bruising his fists on the stone floor. He quickly worked himself up so much that he lurched over and vomited. He remained bowed over like that for an hour, as if in prayer to an unnamed god of rage.
The next day, the paperwork was signed and The Order of the Phoenix came to take him away.
Oh. My. Gosh. Writing this chapter was like shitting a brick, and that brick was named Draco. I blame my mind for constantly harping, "Is that plausible?Malfoy isn't whiny enough. Is The Order on drugs? You can't write Lupin/Tonks--you don't even like them as a couple! What does the Lexicon say?" ecetera. Plus, I realize that I'm frightened of post-HBP Harry. He's so self-assuredly filling in his role of savior...I think that helps freak out Draco as well. Next chapter--gasp!-actual character interaction with --thank God!--not just Draco!
Also...I would be lying if I didn'tadmit that it was your reviews that keep me inspired. Thanks!
Foreverus,
the sneeze