Hermione was talking quietly to Luna when Draco Malfoy approached her. The Slytherin looked even paler than usual and his eyes had dark circles beneath them. Apart from that, the blond was seemingly unhurt.
"Granger – a word?" he looked desperate and his eyes were pleading so Hermione nodded and motioned for him to come with her. They walked to a corner of the Great Hall that wasn't as crowded as the others and Hermione raised an expectant eyebrow.
"My mother – no one will tell me if she is hurt or even yet alive, … they won't tell me anything…" his usually sneering tone was subdued and shaky, full of worry and fear.
"I am sorry, I didn't know," Hermione felt genuinely sorry. It had been three days since the battle and yet no one had felt it was their responsibility to tell a son of his mother's fate? He may be a Malfoy. They might've been on the wrong side of the war. But that was just cruel... "I know that she is alive," she told him and visibly saw how a weight was lifted from his shoulders. "I believe they are holding her in one of the classrooms."
After a moment she added: "You know, I really don't believe they'll send her to Azkaban. She saved Harry's life and, as I understand, at least never actively took part in any of Voldemort's crimes. Your father however-"
"I know. They took him to Azkaban yesterday. He's awaiting the Kiss."
"I am sorry. For what it's worth. He is your father."
"Thank you. And for telling me about my mother."
Hermione nodded and turned her back to the Slytherin, returning to Luna's side.
"He seemed sad," the girl voiced her thoughts, watching as the Malfoy heir hesitantly approached one of the aurors.
"He was looking for news on his mother," Hermione explained, rubbing her temple. "It seems no one told him of her fate so he naturally believed the worst. And he will be losing his father–"
"Hermione," Kingsley Shacklebolt ran up to her, breathing rapidly. "Have you seen Harry?"
"He was walking the grounds earlier, together with Ginny." Hermione frowned as loud voices reached her ears. "Kingsley... What's wrong?"
"A mob…" he shook his head. "They're out for blood. One would think they had enough of suffering and death after the last couple of days. – Most of the aurors are out hunting the remaining death eaters. I don't have enough people to stop them."
Stop them from what?"
"Shacklebolt!" Draco called out from the other end of the Great Hall, his voice panicky.
"They're out for her, aren't they? Narcissa Malfoy?"
The minister merely nodded.
"I shall help you," Hermione announced, jogging up to Draco's side, Kingsley gasping for breath behind her.
They raced through the hallways until they reached the clamoring crowd.
They were chanting words of hatred which Hermione would love nothing more than to unhear and some of them were casting spells at a heavily warded classroom door.
Then, with a loud bang, the door finally gave in.
Hermione and Draco squeezed through the masses and when her eyes fell upon the scene in the classroom, her heart stopped beating for a long second.
There she was, Narcissa Malfoy, proudly standing in the doorframe, blocking the entrance to the room with a strong magical barrier. Her hair was wildly flying around her face from magical gusts of wind and she looked ready to take on the whole horde of witches and wizards on her own.
Behind her, Hermione noticed with widening eyes, a small blonde child was standing on wobbly legs, the tiny hands pulling at the witch's cloak with sheer desperation.
Realizing that the the witch wouldn't be able to hold up the shield for much longer – especially considering that she was casting it without the help of a wand to fully channel her powers – she nodded at Draco and the two of them positioned themselves on either side of the doorframe, their wands raised.
Fortunately, the mere sight of Hermione startled the people enough to make them stop. At least for a moment.
"What are you doing?" Her brown eyes wandered over the enraged crowd, accusingly staring them down. "Have you all lost your mind?! The bodies of your loved ones have barely even left the castle grounds and you're out to draw more blood? I understand that all of you are frightened and fighting with the grief that has us in its grips… But if we lash out out of fear and seek revenge… then we aren't any better than he was. It was the fear of change that first drew people to Voldemort's side, the hatred of the new and different. And this fear, this hatred, has culminated in terrible bloodshed... Do not add to it. Do not seek revenge. – It won't bring back the ones you lost. And it won't help you deal with the losses. I am disappointed in you all. I thought you were better. That we were better. But here you are, attacking a woman who doesn't even have a wand. Attacking a woman who is protecting a child! Sha-"
"Out of my way!" Shacklebolt had finally caught up to them and fought his way through the crowd, two young aurors at his side. "Thank you for getting this under control," he lowered his voice so only Hermione could hear. Then he turned to the crowd of witches and wizards. "Ms. Granger speaks true. Mrs. Malfoy's fate is in the hands of the Wizengamot and the Ministry. It is not your task nor your right to enforce justice and especially not with the way you have chosen… The Malfoys have wronged many of us and they will pay for what they have done, for the role they played in this war. This I promise you." He motioned towards the two aurors at his side and they walked towards the blonde witch, gripping her arms as she dropped the shield. "Mrs. Malfoy will be taken to Azkaban and remain there until the Wizengamot has made a decision about her punishment."
"No! Mother!" Draco stepped into the aurors' way, keeping them from taking her away. "You can't do this!" he yelled, his blue eyes flickering from his mother's to the minister's face. "She'll die before they even begin her process! She saved Potter! Isn't that worth-"
"Draco," his mother's quiet voice and her soft hand on his cheek made his voice waver.
"Isn't that worth anything?"
"Draco, look at me," Narcissa said to her son, her own features calm and devoid of any emotion. "Do not underestimate me. I will not die, not even if it takes them a year to come to a verdict. Do you hear me? I will not die."
The young man nodded, his mother's words reducing him to a boy, his eyes watering.
"I will be fine." She leaned forward as much as she could with the two aurors restraining her and kissed his forehead. "Take care of your sister for me, Draco. She is all alone and she will need you. Get Winky, she knows how to care for her."
And with that, they watched as the aurors escorted Narcissa Malfoy away.
The abandoned toddler began to cry, not understanding what had just happened and why they had taken her Ci away. Her little face was scrunched up in fear and sadness as she stood forlornly in the middle of the empty classroom.
Seeing that Draco was too shocked to process, Hermione took pity on the small child and picked her up, holding her securely in her arms. A strange sensation took ahold of her as soon as she'd touched the child, a strange tingle shooting throughout her body.
"Shhh, little one, don't you cry," Hermione whispered to the distraught child, running a hand over her soft hair. "You're not alone. I promise."
And when the child had finally calmed, Hermione carried her to her older brother, almost pushing her into his arms. She had to get away from the strange feeling that had overcome her the moment she'd picked her up.
Then she made her way back to the Great Hall; she needed to find Kingsley.
"Why did you have them take her to Azkaban?" Harry's green eyes were boring into the Minister's brown ones, demanding answers. He'd been walking the grounds with Ginny, taking some time off from being the boy-who-lived and the boy-who-killed-Voldemort, only to come back to utter chaos. He wasn't a fan of any of the Malfoys but that didn't justify taking Narcissa Malfoy to the Wizarding Prison. Anyone in their right mind knew that no one came back from Azkaban unscathed.
And while Draco's mother had passively watched and supported Voldemort over the years, there were other things to consider.
She'd lied to the Dark Lord to save his life. She'd killed several death eaters, among them Mulciber. And she had a small child.
Harry hadn't seen the baby yet but he knew it was a little girl, probably around a year old. Just the same age he had been when he'd been orphaned…
"We had to take her away, Harry. The people were demanding-"
"Her head? Her life? Since when do 'the people' decide about such things?"
"Harry, try to understand..." Kingsley tiredly kneaded his temple. "She couldn't stay here. It wasn't safe. Not for her nor for everyone else."
"But she is safe in Azkaban?" Harry shook his head, a bitter chuckle escaping his throat. "Neither of us would be here, alive and talking, if it wasn't for her. You shouldn't forget about that."
"Harry's right," Hermione had quietly entered the room after listening in on the conversation for a few minutes. She'd actually been on her way to Kingsley for the same reasons as her friend. "There has to be another option," she declared, pacing the room. "I uhm… I've never told anyone about the time we'd been captives at Malfoy Manor, about the hour I was up there alone. With Bellatrix… and the Malfoys. Bellatrix' interrogation techniques weren't exactly gentle. And no one helped. They all looked away as she… I begged. And I begged her, Narcissa Malfoy... but she didn't help. And I hate her for that, believe me, I do. But even I don't think she deserves to be at Azkaban, Kingsley. She really doesn't. At least not before she's been tried and found guilty. If the Wizengamot decides it is the best to let her rot away at Azkaban? Fine, let her. – But not like this. Not now."
Harry nodded in agreement, gently squeezing Hermione's shoulder, knowing she was probably reliving whatever had happened to her at the hands of that madwoman. He wished she would talk to him about what had happened. Or Ginny. Anyone really. Because she desperately needed to talk about this. He could see it was eating her alive.
"All right," Kingsley sighed, scratching the stubble on his broad chin. "I have heard what you had to say and I give you my word that I will try to find a different solution." When Harry opened his mouth to speak, he added: "And I'll try to do so quickly."
Draco was sitting on the stairs in the entrance hall – or what remained of them – bouncing his little sister on his knees, intently studying her features.
Up until an hour ago, he hadn't even known about the child's existence and he didn't know what to think about the whole thing. His mother had never kept anything from him, at least nothing as important as this. And while the small girl shared his mother's silvery blonde hair – the blue tips were odd though – and was definitely a Black in resemblance, he just couldn't believe that she was truly hers.
He would've noticed if his mother was pregnant, wouldn't he?
And those piercing dark brown eyes… Were they simply an inheritance from his grandfather Cygnus – or something else entirely?
"Who are you?" he mumbled to himself, the child curiously smiling up at him as if she perfectly understood and knew that she knew something he didn't. "I don't even know your name..."
AN: Thank you for the kind review, SH4D0W44 :) I'm always happy to hear from you.
Everyone else, too, actually. Stop it with the silent treatment and let me know what you think ;)