Chapter Thirty-Nine: Reprieve
Arianwen sighed. Llewyn had been particularly fussy that evening and was refusing to go down for a nap; Arianwen could never refer to it as sleep as Llewyn was always so restless and barely ever slept longer than three hours at a time. They were now huddled together on a sofa in Llewyn's nursery, a gentle fire providing them with a welcome blanket of warmth. The small boy was now two years old and able to talk, though he only really did so around his mother; he was quite a shy-natured child.
"What's that, Lewy?" She pointed to the shape she'd conjured out of the flames.
"Dog!" Llewyn exclaimed, clapping his hands on her chest and using his leverage to push his excited face as close to hers as possible. Arianwen giggled, amused by Llewyn's tiny pleased face obscuring her vision.
A small knock at the door alerted them to Betsy's presence. Arianwen didn't bother to look up, she and Llewyn still giggling together. "Everything alright, Bet-" Arianwen began to say, but when she saw who had accompanied the elf into the room, her words seemed to leave her.
"Narcissa?" She said, disbelieving. "What are you doing here?"
The older woman, who had momentarily frozen at the sight of her surrogate daughter, blinked, her head clearing. "You haven't responded to any of my letters of late, I wanted to make sure you're alright."
"Well," Arianwen said stiffly, "now that you've seen I'm fine…you can go."
Narcissa's mouth thinned, her face distraught. "Arianwen, sweetheart, please don't shut me out, you know I love you as one of my own."
Arianwen just stared back in response, the words unable to penetrate the walls that had erected around her heart.
"Would my lady like to sit?" Betsy said awkwardly from the doorway when it became clear that Arianwen had no intention of responding. "Betsy can make Mrs Narcissa some tea?"
"Yes, thank you Betsy." Narcissa said courteously, perching on the nearest armchair to the young blonde, who was staring resolutely into the fireplace. Her gaze was drawn instead to the child on Arianwen's lap, who was watching her, transfixed. She smiled, he was the perfect mix of Draco and Arianwen. Slowly, he removed his head from where it had been tucked into his mother's neck, clearly a point of refuge for him, and wriggled off of her lap. His movements now caught his mother's gaze too, who watched as he tottered over to the coffee table, picked up a coaster and took it over to Narcissa.
"Thank you, dear." She smiled, accepting the gift. He made a gleeful sound and went to fetch her another one, until she was holding every coaster like object within his reach.
"I don't know why he likes them so much," Arianwen commented, her stony silence now broken with the same amused smile she'd worn when Narcissa first arrived.
"May I?" Narcissa asked, her hands hovering by Llewyn's waist, ready to lift him up. Arianwen nodded.
"Do you know who this is?" Arianwen asked him gently. The toddler shook his head, his big green eyes watching Narcissa like she was some alien object. "This is your gra- this is Mrs Malfoy" Arianwen corrected herself. Narcissa looked up, meeting Arianwen's gaze with sad eyes.
"How have you been?"
Arianwen snorted. "Never better."
Narcissa looked away, berating herself for asking such a stupid question. Thankfully, at that moment Betsy returned with the tea and they were able to occupy the silence for a while. "I wanted to be there." Narcissa said eventually.
Arianwen knew exactly where 'there' was, and it was not something she wanted to think about: the day she buried her daughter. She found herself unable to speak, a thick lump had materialised in her throat faster than she'd even been able to blink. She settled for a nod instead.
"He wanted to be there too," Narcissa added. "So much."
Arianwen's mouth twisted into an ugly sneer, a look quite foreign to her features. Narcissa was talking, of course, of Draco, who had been incarcerated in Azkaban for the past six months. In fact, all of the Malfoy's had been taken to prison after the Battle of Hogwarts; Narcissa was the first to be released, held for just two weeks until it was decided that she was fairly innocent as these things go. Unfortunately, it was still two weeks too long, and Arianwen had been forced to bury her child on her own. Oddly, Lucius was next to be released, it appeared even after everything he still had some powerful friends at the Ministry and they had spun a tale of his switching allegiance before the war was done. Draco, however, was a different story. Word had got out about his involvement in the muggle massacres in Bulgaria and his actions were deemed barbaric, even more so than some of the other Death Eaters because at least they used magic to kill people, rather than werewolf brutality to maim and eat them. What had resulted from this news was unparalleled public outrage, and much to his parents dismay, Draco had become the person to make an example of.
"They've set a date for his trial," Narcissa said warily, "it's two days from now."
Arianwen hummed in agreement. She had known the date of Draco's trial, it would have been rather impossible to avoid it, what with his face plastered all over every newspaper in Britain and beyond.
"If you were just to give testimony-" the older woman started, her eyes beseeching Arianwen for help.
"So that's why you're here then?" Arianwen said flatly. "You're not here to see me at all are you? You just want to make sure I'll speak on behalf of your precious Draco." Her tone was venemous.
"No!" Narcissa exclaimed. "I've been desperate to see you, of course I have, but Draco- his counsel says he needs all the help he can get and people will take what you have to say seriously-"
"And what makes you think I have anything to say that will save him?" Arianwen interrupted hotly.
"He loves you!" Narcissa pleaded. "He carried this with him everywhere, look!" She reached into her pocket and retrieved a folded, battered photograph, reaching over Llewyn to press it into her palms.
Arianwen opened the picture, trying to will her hands to stop shaking. It was the two of them, Draco and Arianwen, huddled under Draco's cloak on a bench overlooking the lake at Ty Myddfai; their younger selves looked so content in each others embrace that Arianwen actually couldn't stand to look at it. She tossed it to the ground.
"So? One picture doesn't excuse everything he did to me, said to me. He crushed me, Narcissa, there's no coming back from that."
"He was trying to protect you," Narcissa cried, her lip trembling.
"Yeah?" Hot tears were leaking from Arianwen's eyes now, and her voice cracked when she spoke. "And look what good that's done!"
"Arianwen please-"
"No! Do NOT ask this of me! I buried my daughter six months ago, Narcissa, and I buried him with her." She picked her son off of Narcissa's lap, who'd begun balling at the sight of his mother's distress. "I think we're done here." She said in a tone that didn't allow for debate.
Recognising defeat, a forlorn Narcissa got to her feet and crossed the room to the door. Just before she left, she turned back. "Even if you don't come on Thursday, I still love you, my child."
Arianwen let out a long breath once Narcissa was gone; she bounced Llewyn gently in her arms, hoping to calm him down some. "Come on," she soothed, "you can sleep in Mummy's bed tonight."
And, as predicted, Llewyn calmed almost instantly and Arianwen found herself very glad of her son's constant need for proximity.
A loud thumping stirred Arianwen from her sleep. "Go 'way Bets," she mumbled, swatting one arm in the air to make her point.
"Duchess," a smooth, amused voice sounded from the foot of her bed.
"Mmph!" Arianwen shot up to see Aneirin laughing at her.
"Betsy!" The bleary eyed girl moaned, turning on the house elf stood sheepishly in the doorway. "I said no visitors in my bedroom!"
"Maybe if Miss Duchess would get out of bed when Betsy tells her Miss wouldn't have visitors in her bedroom." Betsy replied tartly. Arianwen rubbed her eyes, Betsy's unimpressed frown coming into full focus. So much for sheepish, she thought moodily, glaring at the house elf as she left the room.
"I'm afraid I must second your elf's statement."
"Why?" Arianwen frowned. "What's happened?"
Aneirin didn't answer for a moment, seemingly trying to decide how to phrase his next sentence. In the end, he just said, "the trial is today."
Arianwen blinked. Today, Thursday, Draco Malfoy's trial, the one that would decide if he would be imprisoned for life. "I'm aware." She responded coolly. "and I'm not going."
Her friend sighed deeply, a move that irritated Arianwen to no end, and fixed her with a knowing stare. "Don't you want to give your testimony?"
She shrugged. "I wouldn't even know what to say, I doubt it would be anything good."
"You don't need to say anything for or against him. Don't think of it like that, just have your say, maybe it'll give you some closure." He reasoned. Arianwen didn't really know what to say to that. She could feel tears beginning to prick at her eyes and cursed that boy for still having such an effect on her. "Look, I'm not going to drag you there," Aneirin was still speaking, "but I'll be giving testimony too, so you won't have to do it alone."
"You're giving testimony?" Her brow ruffled, trying to understand. "Why?"
"Come and you'll find out." Deciding he'd put forward as convincing of an argument as he could, Aneirin exited the room, his ceremonial green robes swishing behind him.
Aneirin's foot had just left the last step and landed on the flagstone of the entrance hall when Arianwen came flying to the top of the stairs. "Wait!" She shouted. "Just wait, will you!"
Aneirin turned slowly, for effect. He raised a brow questioningly, as if he didn't already suspect what she was about to say. "I'm coming with you. Happy? Just give me a second to get changed."
The chamber being used by the Wizengamot for the trials was bleak to say the least. High stone stands surrounded three of the walls, magically tilted so that each member of the audience could lean towards the proceedings below and, Arianwen imagined, intimidate the defendant. The fourth wall was empty, save for some paintings of ancient haughty looking wizards surveying them pretentiously.
"Here," Aneirin said quietly, gesturing to one of the front benches. Arianwen followed and placed herself down beside him, noting her name in cursive on the seat. She cast her eyes down the row, noting the names of the others giving evidence. To her left, Aneirin, and to her right the cursive read 'Neil Thatcher'. Arianwen recognised the woman sitting next to the absent Neil as Maria Rowle: they'd met briefly at one of Narcissa's Historic Housing fundraising events; and next to her, someone they went to Hogwarts with, a Hufflepuff. Finally, right on the end, was Harry Potter.
Casting her eyes around the rest of the room, she recognised some faces: Hermione Granger, Ron and Ginny Weasley, and…Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Narcissa, who'd clearly been watching the younger woman, smiled gratefully when she saw her. Arianwen looked away. I'm not here to help him, she told herself angrily, not after everything he's done.
The elusive Neil now took his seat next to her, just as the rest of the onlookers took theirs. She cast a brief sideways glance at him, long mousey-brown hair framed what looked like a particularly painful black eye, which had swollen in such a way that it gave him almost alien-like cheekbones. She was just examining the rather worse for wear faux dragon-hide boots when a loud clunking caused her attention to shoot to the far side of the chamber. Out of the floor, three short tiered stands were rising, carrying with them some very nonchalant looking wizards. I suppose they've done a lot of these by now, she reasoned to herself. A long banner fell above the new stands; it unfurled to read 'The People v Draco Malfoy'
"Good afternoon," Amelia Bones, now Chief Witch of the Wizengamot, said solemnly. "We are gathered here today for the trial Draco Lucius Malfoy, who shall be tried and sentenced in accordance with the Patagonia Treaty and War Criminals Sentencing Act 1945." As if on queue the metal doors to the great chamber clanged open and a number of Aurors dragged a shell of a man by his chains to the stiff chair in the centre of the room. The chains on the chair practically squealed with excitement as their next prisoner was brought nearer; they encircled his legs, arms and chest greedily.
Arianwen was frozen. The doors to the chamber were positioned on the same wall as the benches on which she and Aneirin sat so Draco hadn't seen her as he came in. Even now, he didn't look around, he merely stared straight ahead. Prison life clearly hadn't been kind to him. He looked thin, drawn, and resigned to a life in captivity. It rose in her a mix of emotions that formed a tight knot in her stomach. You hate him, she reminded herself. She made her thoughts dive backwards to the memories of the vile things he had said to her and found the hatred flow much more easily.
"Mr. Draco Lucius Malfoy," Madame Bones began. "Today the Court shall hear evidence to decide your guilt for allegedly committing the following offences: the contravention of the Statute of Secrecy: Section 12 by deliberately and openly using magic to lead Muggles to injury or death by the hand of witches, wizards, or any other creature that can be reasonably considered to possess magical abilities; and contravention of the Patagonia Treaty by the use of Unforgivable Curses to maim, manipulate, or murder; aiding and abetting known war criminals; and membership of the Death Eater movement.
Mr. Malfoy, do you understand that if you are deemed to have committed one or all of these offences, you shall be tried under the Patagonia Conventions and sentenced to life imprisonment under the War Criminals Sentencing Act 1945?"
"Yes." Was all Draco said. Narcissa, opposite, let out a loud sob, quickly quietened by her husband, who looked perhaps even more sickly than Draco himself at the thought of his only son being locked away for the rest of his days.
"Very well," Madam Bones looked as serious as ever. "The Court shall now hear testimony from Neil Thatcher."
Thatcher made his way to the chair that had materialised next to Draco, this one not covered in chains, and made a show of how painful it was for him to sit down. Draco watched the man with ill-disguised hatred, his mind clearly just as astute as it had been before Azkaban, even if his body was not.
"Please state your name and occupation for the record." Thatcher was instructed by a clerk.
"Neil Harrison Thatcher. I'm an Auror and currently stationed in Azkaban as a guard."
Arianwen shared a quick look of confusion with Aneirin before Madam Bones started speaking again. "Mr. Thatcher, please explain to the Court what happened on the morning of 9th December 1988?"
"Well," Thatcher began eagerly, clearly keen to share his story, "I was handing out the morning paper and stopped to talk to Malfoy here about the cover story that day, when Malfoy grabbed me through the bars and started smashing my head against the rails. Took three Stunners from the boys to get him off me."
There were murmurings in the audience; in the Wizengamot stands too, a number of people were whispering to each other, all looking alarmed.
"Mr. Thatcher," Neil was now being addressed by none other than the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, "what relevance does this story have to the accusations against the defendant?" Whilst it sounded harsh, it was not a question posed to embarrass or discredit the Auror and Thatcher seemed content enough to take it at face value.
"I want the Wizengamot to know that this man doesn't deserve your forgiveness, he is as violent and unhinged now as he was when my colleagues and I faced him in the war. He-"
"Thank you, Mr. Thatcher," Madame Bones cut in pointedly. "What I don't quite understand is why Mr. Malfoy attacked you, sir. There are no other records of violence from him that I can see here," she shuffled some papers, her glasses positioned on the very end of her nose, "no, nothing. So why then, Mr. Malfoy, did you decide to attack Mr. Thatcher on this particular day? Or do you deny doing so at all?"
"I don't deny it," Draco said smoothly, his voice deep, dangerous. More outraged murmurings broke out across the stands.
"You don't deny it?" She questioned somewhat disbelievingly.
"No." Draco growled. "He's a cunt."
Aneirin coughed suddenly, his hand covering what looked to be a smile.
"Mr. Malfoy! Might I remind you that you the stakes of this trial are extremely high, I suggest you take it seriously!" Madame Bones chastised over the shocked chatter in the room. "Now, please tell us why you attacked Mr. Thatcher."
Draco hesitated, for the first time looking uncomfortable. "He was goading me."
"Goading you?" Bones encouraged.
Draco sighed, knowing he wasn't going to be able to keep this one to himself. "Yes, goading me. My err- a girl I used to see was in the paper, Thatcher made comments about her, comments I didn't like."
Aneirin nudged Arianwen's arm, raising his eyebrows meaningfully, Arianwen blushed.
"So you mean to say that you, let me see," she shuffled her papers again, "beat this man 'forcefully and repetitively, causing a broken nose, black eyes,' and even some 'broken ribs and pelvis', because he made a comment you didn't like about a girl you've been with?"
"Yes!" Draco growled, reddening as some of the people around him laughed at him. Arianwen's face was growing hotter by the second, it was clearly her that they'd been referring to! She hoped that the other onlookers wouldn't know their history and guess it was her. She wondered what the Auror had said about her - the thought sent a fresh wave of anger rippling down her spine.
"I think we need to know the extent of the statements made against this girlfriend of yours, Mr. Malfoy." Kingsley added, the voice of reason, as ever.
Draco glared at the Auror sitting next to him, who was maintaining a look of innocence throughout the whole thing. "He said he wanted her…sexually." He moved in his chair awkwardly. "Said he could get her address, go over there and watch her in the shower, take pictures of her, said there was nothing I could do about it. Well - I did the only thing I could."
Arianwen shared in the horrified cries that erupted across the hall. Thatcher himself had actually stood up out of his chair and was flailing his arms around crazily, though what he was saying was lost to the noise of the onlookers. Interestingly, people seemed quite able to believe Draco's version of events and were now directing their outrage at Thatcher. She felt the eyes of her classmates on her and her cheeks burned redder still.
Neil Thatcher was removed from the hall promptly afterwards, no doubt to be submitted to scrutiny under veritaserum and the next person was called up to testify. Maria Rowle spoke heatedly about how Draco had tortured her son with the Cruciatus Curse and again, Draco didn't deny his actions: "It was crucio Rowle or the Dark Lord would kill my parents. I doubt any of you would have made a different choice if you were in my position." Maria returned to her seat in fits of hysterics - Thorfinn didn't make it to see the end of the war.
Next it was Harry Potter. His evidence, much to the surprise of everyone there, was quite balanced. He explained how Draco had pretended not to know who he was when he was captured by Snatchers and brought to Malfoy Manor, granting them some time to escape. In contrast to this, however, Harry spoke of how Draco and his friends were planning to deliver him to Voldemort when they followed he, Ron, and Hermione into the Room of Requirement. By the looks on the faces of the people on the Wizengamot stands, Harry's testimony had not pushed favour in Draco's direction.
"Alright," Madame Bones said with a poorly repressed sigh, "I now invite the Duke of Gwynedd to the chair."
He shot Arianwen an encouraging smile, then descended to the chair next to Draco. The latter was still staring ahead blankly, it concerned Aneirin - he wanted to know what was going on in that head. Being locked up in prison straight after you find out your newborn is dead and the mother blames it on you had to be a lot to bear for even the most stable of men, and in Aneirin's experience Draco was anything but stable.
The blonde, sensing Aneirin's presence next to him, shuffled, but didn't look his way.
"My Lord," Bones addressed him, "it is good of you to assist us with this trial."
"Of course," Aneirin nodded courteously.
"I understand that you wish to offer testimony to defend Mr. Malfoy of the charge of contravening the Statute of Secrecy, please explain to the Court why the defendant is not guilty of this offence?"
"Certainly. As I'm sure you remember, when the Death Eaters infiltrated the Ministry, they put a tracker on all portkey creations in an attempt to capture Mr. Potter. I knew that Mr. Malfoy had gotten a couple of, shall we say, untraceable portkeys from a contact of his and asked him to meet with me, which he did at a great risk to himself, might I add."
"What relevance does this tale have?" One of the Wizengamot wizards shouted from the back bench.
Aneirin continued, unfazed. "Mr. Malfoy agreed to supply me with portkeys on mass to transport muggleborns and their families to safety with me in North Wales. Thanks to those portkeys, countless families were spared persecution."
Arianwen sat, quite shocked, and stared at the two of them. They helped muggleborns escape? Surely not. Draco wouldn't risk so much!
It appeared she wasn't the only one having a hard time believing it, the whole room had broken into a buzz of chatter. Madame Bones interjected, a slight tone of disbelief evident in her voice: "I'm sorry, Your Grace, but I'm having a hard time believing that Mr. Malfoy would risk so much when he has already testified to say that he tortured a fellow Death Eater in fear that if he did not his family would be killed."
"Aye," a back bencher called out, "especially when Potter's just told us all how prejudiced the boy was in school!"
"Hear hear!" Others piped up.
Aneirin, his voice raised to drown out the rest, intervened: "I appreciate that it is hard for some of you to appreciate that Mr. Malfoy could be a good man. When you look at him all you see is his wealth, the status that his name brings him, and the general embodiment of everything that has plagued you during this terrible war. However, I would urge you to think about what you would have done in his position. A young man forced to join a movement not because he believed in it, but because he needed to fill his father's shoes. A young man forced to give up his youth and his innocence and his education to train as a faceless warrior for Lord Voldemort, forced to watch his parents tortured and humiliated in their own home and have this used as duress to commit terrible acts himself.
"I'm not saying that Mr. Malfoy is innocent. He, himself, does not even claim to be so. But what I am saying is that he rebelled in his own way, he helped save hundreds of lives, and that is not something that should be taken lightly. I ask you to think what you would have done in his position." A long and stunned silence, nobody dared move. "Now, I appreciate that you will still want to hear evidence, so I ask that you call Mr. Finch Fletchey to the Chair next."
And so they did. Justin, who cast a quick terrified look at Draco's withdrawn face, spoke shakily but told the court all about how Draco had found them and guided them to where he hid the portkeys. When asked if Justin thought Draco should be released, he said: "I can't say I ever saw eye-to-eye with Malfoy in school but it's like the Duke said, Malfoy was in an impossible position, he shouldn't be locked away for life because of that."
"And what about all the muggles in Bulgaria that he led to slaughter by the werewolves?" Kingsley had asked rather indelicately.
Justin's face went sheet-white. "Horrible!" He cried. "An atrocious act, absolutely! But it's easy to sit on your high horse and judge people after the fact, isn't it? I mean when you really think about it, really put yourself in Malfoy's shoes and think about your loved ones who were going to be killed if you didn't toe the line, I think we might have done it too."
"Certainly not!" One person shouted, appalled.
"I would have fought back!" A man at the front added.
"Yes," another joined in, "he should've fought them from within!"
"I did fight back," Draco's voice sounded wearily, silencing them all faster than silencio, "I didn't risk my neck to get those families out for fun you know. I may not have done it in the same way as a Gryffindor but I still fought back."
Madame Bones blinked a few times, before clearing her throat and saying: "Um, right, yes, that's noted, Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Finch-Fletchey, you may return to your seat." She shuffled some more papers, distractedly. "And finally, we have requested the testimony of the Duchess of Pembrokeshire and Carmarthenshire, Arianwen Gwydion."
Automatically at the sound of her name, Arianwen stood, though her head was clouded with a fog of confusion and her legs had to act independently to bring her to the chair beside Draco. She sensed him beside her, sensed his utter shock at her attendance of the trial. Narcissa probably told him I wasn't going to come. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. Not yet.
"Duchess," Bones greeted, "thank you for agreeing to testify." Arianwen dipped her head to her, unable to speak. "We have a record from the Aurors that removed Mr. Malfoy from St Mungo's Hospital in order to escort him to Azkaban prison, that upon their arrival you called Mr. Malfoy a murderer and stated he should be locked away to 'rot'. Please can you tell the court why you expressed these sentiments?"
Arianwen gulped, her heart in her brain, her fingers frozen yet shaking. "I blamed him," she offered lamely.
"What for?" Bones pressed.
She gulped again. "I-I was pregnant and I fell, Greyback, he pulled me down." She stared hollowly into Bones' crisp blue eyes. "I-we-" she took a deep breath. "We lost the baby." She couldn't go on, images of her child's burial surging through her mind.
"I'm very sorry for your loss," Bones said gently, genuinely sorry, "but I'm afraid I don't quite understand."
Arianwen breathed in deeply through her nose, preparing herself to go on, but Draco spoke first, sparing her. "I was- I am- the baby was ours, Arianwen's and mine." He sounded just as pained as she felt. Like an almighty crash of lightning, they locked eyes. Arianwen gasped at the power of just one look, the sheer magnitude of it causing her stomach to wrench and jump into her throat, the love for him that she had been suppressing surfacing just as quickly. After months of separation and the suppression all of her emotions, all of her pain, Arianwen wept.
The entire court watched in some sort of trance, as Draco fought against his chains, trying to reach over to Arianwen, to comfort her. But every time he pushed against the chains they only tightened further around him until he was quite literally turning blue in the face.
"Draco!" Arianwen cried. Then, she turned on Madame Bones. "Can't you do something? They're crushing him!"
"If Mr. Malfoy stops struggling the chains will slacken," Kingsley advised on his colleague's behalf.
"Duchess," Bones continued, attempting to bring the attention back to the matter at hand, "I feel we still need an explanation as to why you called Mr. Malfoy a murderer?"
"I just needed someone to blame," Arianwen admitted sorrowfully. "The baby was dead before I even gave birth to her. I was completely broken and I needed to blame someone, I needed it to not be my fault because I knew that it was."
"It wasn't your fault," Draco cut in, his chains now slackened enough to allow him to speak again.
Arianwen looked back at him, unaware of the tears that were pouring down her face or the constricted way in which she spoke. "It was my fault." She told him as though it were only the two of them in the room.
"No," Draco shook his head, his voice tight, straining under the self-loathing of regret, "I should've taken better care of you. I shouldn't have pushed you away. I've gone over that day so many times in my head, Arianwen, I'm so sorry."
"Draco," she whispered, her voice breaking. Fingers shaking, she reached out and touched a small section of his arm not covered by the chains, her stomach swooping as she made contact. It was the smallest touch but still the dreams and memories and fantasies that had kept Draco sane while in prison came flooding back to him. All too much, his eyes clamped shut, though the tears leaked out regardless.
"Ahem," Bones coughed.
Arianwen shook her head rigorously to bring her back to the present, her whole body shaking, and turned back to Bones, her fingers leaving Draco's arm. "I called him a murderer because I blamed him for Greyback being in Hogwarts that day but he couldn't have done anything to stop it, I realise that now." She blinked a few times, her mind clearing. Looking around, she could see a number of people crying in the stalls and absently wondered why.
"You need to clear Draco of these charges, you need to release him. All he's ever done is look after the people he loves. He's been watching over me this whole time and I was completely blind to it. He forced me to leave Hogwarts and saved our little boy, Llewyn, because he knew my uncle was after me." She turned back to Draco. "That's why the Dark Lord sent you away to Bulgaria, wasn't it, he suspected you?" Draco nodded roughly. "And then when I was captured by my uncle and imprisoned in the headquarters, Draco saved me again, he carried me all the way."
"And you've probably done more, haven't you?" She asked softly, looking at him as if seeing him for the first time. "Things I wouldn't even know about." And she could see in his eyes that it was true.
"Please," she addressed the Wizengamot, "please find it in your hearts to forgive him." And sensing she would have to give more, "I've already lost one child, I don't want to bring the other one up on my own."
Bones blew her nose and asked Arianwen to retake her seat in the stands.
It had been a full month since Draco's trial but Arianwen still hadn't heard any news of his release. She'd busied herself with just about anything she get think of, the village fete, a fundraising gala for the Janus Thickey Ward of St Mungo's, she'd even begun collecting samples to plan the remodelling of her house in the hope that she could banish some of the unpleasant memories along with the peeling wallpaper.
Today, Sunday, she had parked herself on a window seat in the drawing room, watching through an expansive window as Llewyn played hide and seek outside with Betsy. The ageing house elf had really taken a liking to the youngest Gwydion, often neglecting her chores to play with him instead. Not that Arianwen minded, it was nice to see a softer side to the elf.
Not for the first time that day, Arianwen's mind began to wander, imagining the scene where she was reunited with Draco when he sailed back to the mainland from Azkaban. She had just become wrapped up in a particularly deep imaginary kiss when a magically amplified knocking came from the front door. Arianwen decided to just get it herself, Betsy seemed to be having too much fun to bother disturbing her. She swung her legs off the window seat, her soft blue dress floating to the floor with them as she walked barefooted to the front door.
Twisting the brass knob to the left, she pulled the door open.
There stood the best surprise she could have possibly imagined, a beaming smile lighting up every inch of his face.
"Draco!" She leapt forward and he caught her easily, laughing as he spun her around. He placed her back on the floor, pushing her behind her ear to get a better view of her face.
"Hello, beautiful." The corners of his eyes crinkled under the weight of the besotted gaze he had set upon her. She was completely entranced by him, and even more so when he brought his lips down to meet hers. She felt like she was floating, and in that moment it was only them: two people desperately in love - finally reunited.
THE END
A/N: Well there it is, the end! I still can't believe I've actually managed to finish this, it's been a long ride and I'm so grateful to have been able to share it with you. A few of you have requested a sequel but not an overwhelming amount so I think I'll take a break and see if I decide to come back to it or not.
The sequel would be set maybe 5 years or so in the future, and would showcase Draco's struggles to fit in after the war and the effect this has on his family (Arianwen and Llewyn). So lots more drama, lots more love, and hopefully a little bit of fun too. What do you think?
Thank you so so so much to all the wonderful people who read and reviewed this story, and if you're reading this note, thank you for sticking with me till the end!
Love you all, Bea xx