A/N: Huge alphabet love to WordsmithMusings :)
Just a note I will be changing updates to every other week as I finish up this story. Please bear with me! We've got about another 7-10 chapters to go and once it's all written I will go back to weekly updates :)
All the love this story has gotten is so amazing and I appreciate all the favs/follows/reviews! Next update will be the week of 30 Aug!
Chapter Ten:
The morning of Draco's trial day was a gloomy affair, the grey skies blocking out the possibility of sunlight. A heavy mist settled on the ground. By all accounts, it was good English weather, but it only seemed to sour Draco's mood.
"Oh, will you stop staring at me, Granger?" Draco bit out. "I already know I'm going to lose."
"You've never had me speak for you before. If you didn't want my help, you shouldn't have given up the information so easily."
Draco blinked and gave her an astonished look. "And you call yourself a Gryffindor."
"Why aren't you on the Wizengamot, Hermione?" Sirius asked. "I'd thought you would be."
"I am." Hermione stood from the chair and smoothed her skirt. "I have three seats. I'll be voting today just like everyone else."
"Is that supposed to encourage me?" Draco scoffed.
Sirius smoked a cigarette as they waited for Harry to arrive. "I'd rather have Hermione on my side than against me."
She gave him a smug grin. After their moment in the park, Draco had opened up about his father on the walk home. He told Hermione everything, his guilt for still loving his father, his frustration with the Ministry at the years of continued petition and denial of his request. Hermione immediately stopped researching their bond and turned to magical law instead. She only had a day and a half, but she managed to scrape a case together. They would win; she'd make sure of it.
"I can't wait to get my seats back," Draco muttered. "All measly ten of them."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You'll still have one of the highest counts on the Wizengamot. You inherited both the Black and Malfoy seats; stop being an ungrateful prat!"
The room dropped to silence as Hermione huffed. Her nerves were starting to increase the longer they waited for Harry, and her outburst was evidence of that. The floorboards creaked under her shoes as she began to pace, their bonds pulling and tugging as she walked.
Sirius gave a low whistle. "Black and Malfoy, huh? Merlin, how I don't envy you."
The Floo roared to life behind them, and Harry shuffled out, brushing the dust from his official Auror robes.
Sirius walked forward and clapped his shoulder. "If your father could see you now."
Harry grinned, though it looked strained and tense. It was obvious he was nervous about today in the way he fiddled with his uniform. Hermione understood how he felt.
"Alright," he said and sighed. "We'll be going through to the Minister's private Floo. From there, we'll take his elevator straight to level ten. It'll be held in Courtroom Three."
Hermione smiled. "Will you be sitting today?"
"Of course I will." Harry winked. "Even though I normally avoid trials like the plague, I think today calls for a special exception. Oh, and a few friendly faces will be there to help."
Draco scoffed, but Harry ignored him, grabbing the Floo powder and telling them the secret phrase to get entry before he stepped back through the green flames. The trio clamoured through the ornate marble fireplace, Kingsley and Harry waiting in front of his desk.
"You still want to do this?" Kingsley asked, twisting his rings around his fingers.
Draco stood tall. "Yes."
Kingsley nodded his head and pressed his lips together into a thin line. "Your trial begins in ten minutes. All Wizengamot seat holders will be notified of the basics of your bond and sign a magical NDA."
A stack of papers floated from atop Kingsley's desk, and he took them in hand. "I will head down now," he glanced at everyone, finally landing on Harry. "Nine minutes."
The large wooden door shut behind him, leaving nervous tension to fill the air.
Sirius cleared his throat. "You look nice, by the way, Hermione. I forgot to say so earlier."
She glanced down at her pale pink blouse and grey pencil skirt. It was basic court attire, though she supposed she did go a bit overboard by wearing her extra high heels.
"At least I tried to appear for court, Sirius." Hermione said, gesturing to his attire. "You look like you're ready to ride your motorbike. Even Draco wore proper robes!"
Draco tugged down the cuffs of his overcoat and gave Sirius a smug smile.
Sirius smoothed the front of his leather jacket down and grinned. "Give me some credit; I wore my unripped pair of jeans. Not that anyone will even notice, standing next to you. Those heels look delightful."
His eyes raked up and down Hermione's body, sending a current down her spine.
Harry waved his hands and his face twisted into a grimace. "Please save your flirting for another time, thank you. We need to go."
Hermione flushed and followed to a nearby elevator, half the size of the ones in the main lobby but certainly nicer. They piled in, pressing close. The proximity certainly didn't help the nervous energy surrounding them.
The lift swopped down, jostling them. Hermione had never managed to get used to the sudden drops and lurches, but Harry looked relaxed. He always said it felt like flying, which explained why Hermione was the only one needing to hold a strap.
It came to a screeching halt, and Hermione stumbled forward as they rushed to the left. Behind her, Sirius placed his hands on her hips and pulled her body against his to steady her.
"Easy kitten," Sirius whispered in her ear.
Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine. Gratefully she stepped out of the lift, her heels landing on the black stone that surrounded them.
"This way," Harry said, turning down a nearby corridor. A large bronze door with a black number 3 on it stood ahead. Harry turned back to them. "I have to go in now. Wait until the doors open to go in; it should only be a minute or two."
He slipped through the door, and Hermione took a quick peek at the stands. It was crowded. The entire Wizengamot had shown up for this trial.
Draco looked at her with curiosity. "What is it?"
"We're about to be a spectacle," Hermione muttered, chewing her bottom lip as she thought. She'd have to change her entire tactic. "How many Wizengamot members normally sit on your trial?"
"Ten or twelve."
Hermione took a deep breath, her suspicions confirmed. "There's at least forty—maybe fifty now."
"A full stand for a request hearing?" Sirius looked astonished.
"It's a Wizengamot seat holder's right to attend any hearing they want, no matter the severity," Hermione stated. "Of course, we know they're here for much more than that."
Draco gave an astonished huff. "This place never ceases to amaze me. Truly. Fanfare, that's all we are to them."
Sirius grinned and smoothed his jacket. The bonds glowed brightly against the jean fabric. "Then let's give them a hell of a show."
The door opened, revealing the courtroom and the stands filled with her peers staring at them. They walked in together, side by side—the spectacle. Sharp whispers filled the room; no doubt the vulture would soon descend.
At least there were plenty of friendly faces of people she knew would be on her side.
In the first row was Arthur and Bill, who smiled at them. Hermione smiled back. Bill took the Prewett seats after Molly declined them; he'd have one of the highest vote counts once he inherited the Weasley seats, too. Susan Bones, who took Amelia's seats, looked on with shock. Professor Slughorn muttered a startled, "Merlin's Beard!" and Harry tried to contain his laughter.
She was surprised but glad to see Theo Not in attendance. He showed on occasion, no proxy to fill his seat, voting with extreme nonchalance and boredom. Hermione never knew why he even bothered until one day she noticed Theo staring Susan down. After that, she understood his pattern. He didn't care what the trial was about; he just wanted to see Susan and voted to match her. Which meant Hermione at least had Theo's seven votes.
Augusta stared her down with pinched eyes. She filled the Longbottom seats by appointed proxy. Neville never really did take to court life, barely managing to make it through all the Death Eater trials before escaping to Hogwarts to teach.
She would be difficult to win over. Though her intentions weren't necessarily evil, Augusta was old-fashioned, and that carried over to her judgements on cases as well. As any old woman with nothing else to do, Augusta was a regular at even the most basic trials. So, no doubt her five votes were out.
The rest of the occupied seats were people she knew well. Most would be swayed by Harry's vote and her representing Draco. Some would not.
A singular wooden chair was placed in the centre of the room, and Draco sat in it in one swift movement. Hermione and Sirius stood on either side behind him as the whispers began.
Kinglsey, dressed in his black Minister robes, sat in the Chief Warlock's seat and raised a hand to quiet the room. "Request 334. Draco Malfoy, you have requested to speak to the Wizengamot today to ask the Ministry to grant you access to write to your father in Azkaban. Is this correct?"
"Yes." Draco bit out.
"I am Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, taking on the role of Chief Warlock in place of Alexander Pucey." He gestured to the man seated to his right. Alexander Pucey had been Chief Warlock for the last three years. He was a reserved man, serious and composed, exactly what Chief Warlock should be. Justice was his calling, a rare Ravenclaw in a sea of snakes; Hermione admired him.
The fact that Kingsley pushed him from his role was telling. It normally only happened under dire circumstances, high-profile cases or Azkaban sentences. Kingsley obviously wanted to control what would happen today.
"And documented by Percy Weasley." Percy gave Hermione a small wave from the other side of Kingsley.
Kingsley finished with the formality of beginning a trial, citing the date and time with the bang of his hand-gavel. It was a pretty thing, onyx; the tip dipped with shining silver. It was also enchanted to command the attention of the room.
"You may proceed, Mr Malfoy."
"I'll be representing him," Hermione stepped forward, her bond with Sirius glowing a bit brighter as the cord tightened. A murmur passed through the Wizengamot.
Kingsley raised his hand for silence. "You know by doing so revokes your right to vote?"
Hermione leant against the chair. "Only if said person sits on a position-appointed seat, Minister. Mine were gifted to me. According to the Seat Inheritance Rights and Regulations Code, I can relinquish one seat in exchange, which means I still have two."
The room fell quiet as they all stared at her. Though her heart sped, Hermione drank it in. Let them be surprised; they always expected her to be a simple muggleborn girl, no matter how many times she showed them just who she was. She used their prejudiced pureblood laws against them.
Kingsley pressed his lips together, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. "Very well. May the court transcribe note one Granger seat be struck from the vote."
"Thank you, Minister," Hermione started. "Mr Malfoy asks a simple request of you. To write to his father. Yet every time you deny him. Why?"
"Lucius Malfoy is an incarcerated Death Eater," Pucey stated, speaking before Kingsley could. "The man doesn't deserve letters."
"And Mr Malfoy was a self-confessed Death Eater!" Augusta Longbottom piped up in her crackled voice.
"He was found innocent of his crimes," Hermione stated, eyes meeting the older woman's unflinchingly. "And this is not what we're here to discuss. Mr Malfoy is not on trial. This is a request hearing." She stepped forward a bit more, her feet itching with the urge to pace. Their bonds glowed a bit brighter, and a small wave of interest went through the room.
"But who's to know what they could be planning or scheming!" Andrew Abbott, a cousin of Hannah's, piped up.
Hermione's blood thrummed in her ears as her anger rose. This was exactly why she never sought a career in Magical Law; her temper.
But she needed to keep her composure. Draco was relying on her. "Tell me, Elder Abbott, what would make you personally comfortable with allowing Mr Malfoy to write to his father? Would you like it regulated? Would you like a transcript of every letter personally sent to you to review? How would we pay for that?" Hermione paused for a short breath before continuing. "I suppose we could siphon tax money to hire another Auror. Would you like to personally be in charge of that? I'm sure the public would love that."
Andrew opened and closed his mouth a few times, lost for words.
"As much as I hate to agree with Elder Abbott, I'm afraid I must," Isabella Bulstrode said. Hermione tried not to roll her eyes. The Bulstrode matriarch was as old as dust, great aunt to Millicent, and stubborn as a bull. She refused to listen to modern ideals and was Hermione's greatest adversary.
"We just can't trust his reason for wanting to write to each other," she continued, her plum Wizengamot robes making her skin appear sallow. "We're all just concerned about your safety. And this whole bond business! Couldn't it be likely that Mr Malfoy created it himself for some nefarious purpose?"
Murmurs and whispers went through the stands.
Hermione could barely hold back her glare. "I can be the first one to attest that Mr Malfoy would have never done that, no matter what the reason."
Draco snorted beside her, and Isabella's hawk-like eyes dialled in on him. "I heard all about you from Millicent. Quite the nasty little boy, weren't you?"
Greengrass and Parkinson piped up their agreements. Even Augusta muttered foul words on Neville's behalf, causing a fresh wave of conversation to go through the crowd.
"Draco Malfoy served his time and was declared innocent of the remaining crimes, yet you continue to punish him!" Hermione's voice rose, her irritation flaring. "How many of you have had your past mistakes thrown in your face and used against you daily? The betterment of our society begins and ends with decisions made in this room.
"Draco's father is already paying the ultimate price for what he's done. He will die in Azkaban, unable to see his son or sick wife." The voices spoke up, multiple Wizengamot members asking questions at the same time. Draco and Hermione had already discussed whether she could mention Narcissa's illness if needed, but he still recoiled slightly beside her at the crowds' reaction.
"A sickness?" Mr Greengrass asked. "Does it have something to do with...whatever is going on between you all."
Hermione closed her eyes and inhaled a bracing sigh to keep her tongue in check. "The two matters are wholly unrelated."
"Tell me, Elder Granger," Mr Parkinson added, sitting forward with dangerous curiosity. "Is it true you bound yourself to both of these men to get the Black and Malfoy money? Or was it purely for some... carnal desire?"
Hermione glared the Parkinson patriarch down, but he only replied with a smirk as he leant back in his chair. Whispers and tittering picked up around her, voices analysing the ropes connecting them. Hermione had expected some line of questioning about the bond, but she hadn't expected that.
"This case is not now nor has it ever been about our bond, Elder Parkinson," she replied, spitting out his honorific title like a bad taste. "Would you like to discuss the reasons you had for creating a bond within your house? Should we discuss the contracts you have for yourself and created for your own child for financial and political gain? Or would you like that to remain a private matter?" The Patriarch glared back at her, his smug smirk replaced by a deep frown at Hermione's impertinence.
Kingsley banged his gavel, instantly quieting the room. "Alright, silence! Silence! Ms Granger, do you have anything further to add?"
Hermione stood straight and looked at Kingsley fully, her chin raised. "Yes." She had one final trick up her sleeve.
"Elder Potter," Hermione turned her attention to Harry, who perked up and gave her an encouraging smile. "You know Mr Malfoy personally, correct?"
"I do," Harry replied.
"Would you classify yourselves as friends?"
"Yes."
The air changed, waves of surprise passing over various faces. Draco shifted in the chair next to her, obviously annoyed at the line of questioning. If Hermione wasn't so hellbent on winning, she might've laughed.
"Do you believe Mr Malfoy has changed since his days during the war?"
"Yes."
"And were the decision solely up to you? Would you let him write to his father?"
"Of course."
The conversation picked up once more, livelier than the others. To gain the seal of approval from Harry was a big deal. He was their poster boy, lifetime celebrity, the one who saved them all. Hermione didn't doubt he just swayed many to their side.
Kingsley looked annoyed, a twitch in his jaw as he banged the gavel and called for silence. He always said he hated the large hearings, and no doubt that all these people now knew their secret was weighing on him. Even with the magical NDA, there was no guaranteed protection. All secrets revealed themselves eventually.
The voices stopped abruptly, and every eye turned to Kingsley. "What guarantee can you make that both Mr Malfoy's would not conspire?"
"I can't guarantee anything," Hermione simply said. "But I trust Draco, and I trust he won't."
A beat of silence passed through the room. Everyone waited for Kingsley to say something as he stared Hermione down.
"Let's discuss terms."
A few shouts of annoyance and surprise sounded from the Bulstrode area. No doubt Hermione had just made quite a few enemies, not that she didn't have any before.
She glanced at Draco, who gave a short nod. They had already discussed the limits Draco was willing to go—and the ones he wasn't. "One letter a week."
Kingsley leant forward, resting his chin on a curled fist as he held back a smile. "One letter a week, and they may be read by an Auror beforehand."
Hermione grimaced. Damn Slytherins. Oh—how she wished Chief Warlock Pucey were serving right now; at least then she could implore reason to his Ravenclaw mind! Kingsley the Slytherin, though kind and honest, always out-dealt her.
"One letter a week, in good faith, with the ability for random checks," Hermione paused. "And packages on Christmas."
Kingsley huffed a surprised laugh and sat back in his chair, staring Hermione down. Some of the Wizengamot shifted uncomfortably at the battle happening. Sirius and Draco looked at each other and smirked.
"Terms are accepted under the conditions of one letter per week and under the guise of good faith with the ability of random check-ins," Kingsley said with a grin. "No packages. Now, I believe we are ready for a vote. Those in favour of granting the request?"
Just over three-quarters of the room shot their hands in the air, including Hermione. A Quick Quotes Quill beside Percy began a tally of names and house seats, keeping score of which decision would win.
As expected, Augusta and Isabella kept their arms down, but Hermione was surprised to see Andrew Abbott's raised. Pucey and Kingsley kept a neutral stance, their roles only as peacekeepers and facilitators of cases, not to judge. Kingsley gave her a smile that Hermione shakily returned, adrenaline leaving her body.
The parchment floated a moment later to Kingsley, who looked it over and regarded the three of them below. "In the matter of case three-three-four, opened by Draco Malfoy on the 5th of March 1999, is hereby granted on this day, 23rd of July 2004. Sixty-eight votes to thirty-six."
Hermione looked back to Draco, sitting in his chair with an astonished face. Beside him, Sirius grinned proudly. Hermione smiled back.
"Please see Auror Potter for further information and how to complete your request," Kingsley stood. "The Wizengamot may disband."
The courtroom got loud rather quickly as chatter began. Arthur, Bill, and Harry rushed over the trio before they could be hounded by anyone else.
"C'mon," Arthur said to them, leading the pack to the Minister's elevator. He stopped in front of the metal contraption and turned with a wide grin. "Sirius Black," he started, voice tense. "Godric, is it good to see you again."
"Arthur, Bill," Sirius pulled them both into swift hugs, Hermione's arm rising and falling as Sirius moved. The Weasley men eyed the glowing ropes with interest.
"Is it a curse?" Bill asked, glancing at the bond.
"No," Hermione said shortly with a sigh. "I wish I could tell you more, but Kingsley's contract only included previous knowledge, nothing further."
Arthur frowned. "He's being quite odd about this, isn't he?"
Hermione chewed her bottom lip. In truth, she had always thought Kingsley had been too concerned about it. Too worried about keeping it secret. She supposed the headlines and gossip would be astronomical, but still...
"Odd is one way of putting it," Draco grumbled.
Arthur squinted his eyes but ignored the comment and turned back to Sirius. "You truly haven't aged, have you? It's remarkable."
"He looks younger than I do!" Bill laughed, the rest joining and breaking the awkward tension.
Beside Hermione, Draco placed a hand on the small of her back, his demeanour tense. Though it did make her skin tingle, she knew the gesture was more of a comfort for him. Being in the presence of two Weasley's was sure to be uncomfortable. But Hermione relaxed into him, fatigued without the adrenaline running through her veins.
She felt Bill and Arthur stare at them, but they said nothing as they chatted to Sirius. After a few moments, Harry ushered them into the lift, and they all said their goodbyes. Arthur made Sirius promise to come to dinner after the bond was sorted out.
The metal door slid closed as they ascended to level two. Hermione fully rested against the back wall, using both Sirius and Draco as anchors to stay upright.
"Thank you, Granger," Draco murmured to her.
Sirius smirked. "I'm glad to see the Wizengamot holds trails more seriously now."
"Kinglsey made trials very important. No one can be given an Azkaban sentence without a full Wizengamot present," Hermione explained. "And anyone can request a hearing to overrule decisions like Draco did with being able to write to his father."
Draco grabbed her hand and squeezed. "I would have never managed it without you."
"It was nothing," Hermione whispered, clearing her throat as the familiar heat of a blush crept up her neck. "Some of the Wizengamot are quite high and mighty, but having the others there does help even things out."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Most of the high and mighty just side with our votes, anyway. They don't care about the actual cases."
Sirius shook his head and smirked. "Some things never change."
Harry whisked them to the Wizengamot Administration Office, Percy already waiting in a locked conference room. Luckily the Minister's private lift also had private entrances.
Percy explained the details of where to send the letters to Draco, both men completely professional and to the point. Hermione listened attentively should she need to know this information as well.
"Do you have any questions?" Percy asked as he slid the stack of parchment toward Draco to sign.
Draco nodded. "I want to speak to Shacklebolt."
Harry and Percy exchanged a glance before Harry gave an exasperated sigh. "I'll be right back." He trudged out of the office, grumbling to himself about being an errand boy.
Percy sat back in his chair and analysed them, eyes landing on Sirius. "So, Hermione brought you back."
"I hope so," Sirius replied, thrumming his fingers on the wooden table. "Otherwise I must be some rare type of ghost—can I smoke in here?"
"Absolutely not!" Hermione hissed, pinching his arm as it went to grab a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket.
Sirius tucked them back and slid down in his chair, sulking with boredom. On the opposite side of her, Draco signed page after page of parchment with an enchanted quill.
Kingsley and Harry came through a few minutes later, just as Draco finished signing his papers.
"Congratulations on winning, Draco," Kingsley said.
Draco ignored him and stood. "I want to see my mother."
"Hold on before we fight," Sirius stated, waving his hand in the air. "Minister, may I smoke in here?"
Hermione whipped her head to glare back at Sirius, who gave her a wide grin.
Kingsley pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a defeated chuckle. "Go ahead, Sirius. Draco, please continue."
"I want to see my mother and tell her that I finally won. And she needs to know about this bond; it's been weeks!"
Kingsley crossed his arms and looked down his nose at Draco. A beat of silence passed through the room as the two Slytherins glared at each other.
Sirius lit his cigarette and sighed in delight.
"Fine," Kingsley nodded. "Harry, set it up."
By his reaction, Harry looked like he'd rather do anything else. Being married to Blaise meant lots of interaction with Narcissa, and he knew just how impossible she could be.
Kingsley looked at Hermione. "Since I'm here, I wanted to discuss a few things with you. The name of those Unspeakables you gave me..." He stopped and looked at Percy, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. "You can go, Percy. Thank you."
The air turned awkward as they waited for Percy to collect his things and leave. Once the door shut behind him, Kingsley flicked his wand to twist the lock before continuing.
"That notebook from Yaxley, do you still have it?"
Hermione furrowed her brow. "Of course I do."
"I want it returned. I don't know how it made its way to Hogwarts Restricted Section, but it's Ministry property."
Draco stared him down, his tall frame hovering inches above Kingsley's. "What is this about, Shacklebolt? Why are you so concerned about this journal?"
Hermione's thoughts rushed as she began to piece it together. He wasn't concerned about the bond and Sirius being back. He was...
"You don't want anyone to find out about what happened to all those Muggles and Wizards, do you?" Hermione said in mild shock. "You knew what happened the moment I told you McKaides name."
Kingsley plopped into a nearby seat and sighed. He looked tired and defeated. "The horrors you read in your journal was just one of many. All records of that Minister's existence and anything he did was erased from history long ago, except for one copy hidden in my offices under enchantments and charms. It's safely locked away from all prying eyes and wagging tongues. Or at least, I thought so."
Hermione's heart beat in her ears. "No one knew the journals existed, and that's why they survived. That also explains why there's no other research on the subject, or why I couldn't find McKaide or Yaxley's name's in the Unspeakable Archives."
"He was Minister for nearly three years before they overthrew him. Only a fraction of Ministry files and archives from those years remain, even in the Minister's files." Kingsley sat up and rubbed his face. "Minister Umbra was just like Voldemort. McKaide was evil, yes, but a pawn. The true mastermind was Umbra."
"So, where does that leave us then?" Sirius asked. "I've already offered to give up my life to free Hermione and Draco, and they told me I was an idiot."
"Are we going to hide away forever? Like a dirty little secret?" Draco sneered.
"Alright!" Hermione yelled and stood, placing both hands atop the table. "Enough. This isn't Kingsley's fault. It's mine. I'm the one that completely fucked it." Her nerves were completely fried, overwhelmed by the information and today's events. "And I will figure it out."
Sirius snuffed his cigarette and stood too, placing his arm around Hermione's waist. "We will figure it out, kitten."
Draco nodded, reaching out to skim his fingers across her shoulder. "You won't do this alone."
A rush of emotion passed over Hermione, her skin electrified from Sirius' pressed to her side and Draco's fingers on her skin. But her mind was too fatigued, and instead of shying from their touch, she leant into it. Sirius supported her body while Draco turned to Harry.
"We're going home. You and I have some planning to do."
Harry let out a whimper, and despite her exhaustion, Hermione laughed as she followed them back to the Minister's lift. The closer they got to the Floo to return home, the more her spirits lifted.
They would figure this out. Together.