Author's Note: I'm sorry I didn't post last night – I'm actually not even home, but I'm writing this chapter in my sister's apartment. Not much new to report. The suspense that you've all hopefully been feeling will be resolved in this chapter, with the trial and Hermione's first day of work. Expect some unexpected twists.

As usual, read and review! Tell your friends if they like this sort of thing. I know, I know. I shouldn't shamelessly publicize myself, but what can I say? I like feedback, and the more the merrier.

Hermione was not happy.

She was running down the halls of the Ministry, doing this and doing that. Her new job was proving to be more stressful than it was worth, and she'd only been at it for one hour.

In truth, it probably wouldn't have been so hectic if she weren't trying to rush things. She was frantically trying to compress five hours of work into two, so that she could make it to Ron's trial.

She hadn't been able to check with Ron this morning. After he returned to his own home she had gone straight to sleep and had woken up at 5 this morning, not wanting to miss anything on her first day. She had no doubt that Ron was either in the stages of waking up right now or already eating breakfast, feeling horrified and scared.

His parents didn't even know yet. It was a miracle the news of the trial hadn't circulated as much. Scrimgeour had strictly forbidden the Prophet to advertise the trial until it was over. The only newspaper in which Hermione saw news of the trial was the Quibbler, Luna Lovegood's newspaper. After her father's death, she had proudly taken over. Hermione regretted to inform that the newspaper wasn't much better with Luna as editor. It was, if at all possible, more ludicrous than it was before.

Luna vaguely mentioned a certain Quidditch star to be trialed for murder, though never revealing the name. The reason no one took her seriously was because she claimed it was for the murder of an African Nyphmigi Puff, whatever that was. For once Hermione appreciated Luna's insanity.

Presently Hermione was making rounds on the fourth floor, distributing portfolios to various members of her staff. The portfolios included their new working schedules, assignments and when they would be due, and meetings that would be coming up in the next month.

Hermione quite liked her staff. They were a large bunch, almost like a family. One girl she remembered vaguely from Hogwarts, Rose Zeller. She had been a few years behind Hermione, but she remembered the scared looking face of a pale girl with tight black curls, sitting on the infamous stool waiting to be sorted. Rose was a nice, if not quite shy, girl. She was hardworking, true to her Hufflepuff nature. The only small thing which annoyed Hermione about her was that she constantly needed reassurance. She was afraid to do anything without Hermione's permission and approval. When she was given an assignment or asked a question, she would fluster nervously and even once she had choked on her own spit.

Rose was currently in Hermione's office, filing the new influx of papers. Rose was only an under-Witch, who hadn't completed the necessary training needed to work at the Ministry. She was only 22, and had a very fragile, small frame. Her voice was soft and thin, and she had large, clear blue eyes. Hermione often felt nervous when Rose turned her eyes on her, because they were so intense.

Hermione finished handing the last Portfolio to Stebbins and rushed back to her office.

"Hello, Rose," she said politely, smiling at the girl.

Rose gave her a nervous smile and cleared her throat, and continued working. Hermione noticed that she was working with more speed now that she was in the room.

Hermione looked down at her watch and refrained from groaning aloud. Ron's trial would begin in half an hour and she still had lots to do. She had to meet with Orlinda Rawlins. She wanted to know how Hermione's first day was going and wanted to chat and have tea and all that. Normally Hermione would have been thrilled – she quite like Orlinda – but today just wasn't a good day. She was pressed for time and had to be there for Ron.

She gave a quick glance to Rose and chuckled. "Here Rose, let me help." She muttered a spell and the papers began to file themselves, with more accuracy and speed than Rose. "Why don't you help Stebbins with his assignment? It's a rather arduous task and I know he'd appreciate the help."

Rose cleared her throat again and muttered a soft, "Okay" and quickly made her way out of the room.

Hermione rushed out of the office as soon as Rose was gone, running towards the elevator to go to Orlinda's office.

"Hello darling," said Orlinda pleasantly when Hermione entered, breathless.

Hermione gave her a tired smile, trying to catch her breath.

"First day stress?" Orlinda noted. "Don't let it get you down, dear. It gets better, I promise."

"It really isn't so stressful," said Hermione, taking a seat opposite Orlinda. "I'm just trying to cram too much work into a small period of time."

"You'll be going to Mr. Weasley's trial, I take it?" asked Orlinda, sipping on a cup of tea.

Hermione blushed, embarrassed. "I wasn't trying to skive off work, honest…"

Orlinda grinned fabulously and put down her cup of tea. "Oh, I never said you were trying to skive off. I know your type – you never aim to displease. I'd be disappointed if you didn't go."

Orlinda winked. "Besides, you're your own boss now. It's not like you're going to fire yourself for being a compassionate and loyal friend."

Hermione laughed lightly, once again feeling the warmth of Orlinda's presence. She had that 'older woman' wisdom and ease, but she was still close within Hermione's age range to understand what Hermione was going through.

"I won't hold you up," said Orlinda. "You'll want to get down there a few minutes beforehand – give Mr. Weasley a pep talk and all that. I hope everything turns out for the best."

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief. She smiled gratefully at Orlinda and said, "Thank you so much. You have no idea how understanding you are."

Orlinda laughed and said, "Oh, thank you, thank you, darling. Stop by anytime!"

Hermione was already running out the door as fast as her pumps would allow her. She turned corners and raced by confused employees who stared after her in shock.

She was breathless by the time she reached the elevator.

Malfoy was in the elevator.

A complete sense of awkwardness overcame Hermione. What was she supposed to say to him? This trial was just as frustrating and nerve-wracking for him as it was for Ron, no doubt. After all, this trial was for the murder of his mother. Hermione had no right to call him heartless for accusing Ron of murder. She knew that if her own mother had been murdered, she would be just as cold. Family was a bond one could not break easily.

"How…how are you?" she asked timidly, looking up at him.

Malfoy had an unusual expression on his face. Somewhere between fear and indifference. Hermione could tell his mask of stoniness was getting harder and harder to put on each day.

"Fine," he replied curtly.

Hermione hesitantly reached out her hand and rested it on his arm. He flinched only slightly.

She said softly, "You don't always have to be strong, Malfoy. Any normal person would crumble under the pressure, and maybe it's time you did too. This is an emotional time and you can't keep hiding yourself from feeling."

"I'm fine, Granger," Malfoy repeated with more force.

"You're not," said Hermione boldly, taking momentum. "I may not know you so well, but I've known you long enough to know when you're struggling. I can see it in your eyes, in your face, in your movements. Draco Malfoy, you're not okay and I'm worried."

"You shouldn't be," he said monotonously. "You should be worrying about Weasley. He is, after all, the one being tried."

"I know that!" snapped Hermione. "Don't push me away for being concerned about your wellbeing. God knows you need someone to look after you; your friends obviously don't care and neither do you."

"Look, mind your own bloody business!" Malfoy retorted. "We don't need to have anything to do with each other."

Hermione could feel tears welling in her eyes. One fell as she whispered, aghast, "So that kiss? It meant nothing to you?"

Malfoy's snarl slowly fell off his face. He looked away from her and said nothing.

Hermione repeated, "Answer me, Malfoy! Did you honestly feel nothing?"

"I …" he trailed off hopelessly. For once, Malfoy didn't have a snappy retort.

Hermione felt a rush of anger and before she knew what she was doing, she had Malfoy thrust against the wall and she was kissing him fiercely. Her leg was wrapping itself around his body, pulling him closer. It was the angriest, most passionate kiss Hermione had ever experienced. Malfoy was biting her lip painfully and she was thrusting herself at him, clawing at his neck and moaning in his mouth.

She heard the elevator door open and she pulled away from him quickly.

"So tell me, Malfoy, did that mean anything to you?" she asked venomously, and stalked out of the elevator.

"Yes," Malfoy whispered inaudibly when Hermione was out of earshot.

Hermione found Ron in the courtroom, patting his knees as they bounced up and down.

She had stopped quickly in one of the employee lounges and picked up some coffee for him. She patted him on the back gently and he jumped up, surprised.

"Did you get much sleep last night?" she asked, handing him the coffee.

He accepted gratefully and drank. "A bit, yeah. I woke up really early this morning."

"Where's your lawyer?" Hermione asked, looking around.

"His name's Arnold Shweiber – he's conferring with Scrimgeour right now."

"Ron, don't be nervous. They can't possibly find you guilty if you didn't even do anything," Hermione reassured.

They sat in silence until Harry and Ginny came in, offering their own words of reassurance and kindess.

"Does anyone else know?" asked Ron morbidly.

"Not yet," said Ginny hesitantly. "But Ron, mum and dad and everyone else are bound to find out soon. If dad still worked in the Ministry he'd definitely know. The press isn't going to keep quiet much longer and trust me when I say mum and dad would rather hear it from you than from a newspaper."

"I just don't want them to disown me," said Ron weakly. "Can you imagine their shame? They'd get upset whenever Malfoy and I had a fight in school – how do you think they'll react when they find out I'm being tried for murdering Malfoy's mum?"

No one had anything to say to that. There weren't words kind or reassuring enough or even truthful enough to set Ron's mind at ease. Scrimgeour banged the mallet against the lectern and called the court into session. Hermione kissed him on the cheek and ruffled his hair, Ginny patted his shoulders and whispered last soothing words, and Harry's face was stony as he gave Ron small pieces of advice and finally embraced him.

The three made their way into the back seating area and left Ron by himself. Suddenly chains sprung from the chair and bound his arms to them. Ron looked startled but Hermione expected as much. Most Wizengamot cases that she had researched called for the accused to be bound to the chair.

Hermione heard a door open and looked back to see Malfoy striding forward with his black robes billowing behind him, a look of pure malice and boredom on his face. He didn't even look in Hermione's direction as he passed her, and he elegantly sat himself in a velvet chair on the other side of court from Ron.

"Mr. Malfoy, standard procedure calls that you be here well before the case begins," said Scrimgeour, slightly annoyed.

Malfoy favored him with a smirk, but said nothing.

Scrimgeour cleared his throat and continued, "Very well. Mr. Weasley, if you'll be so kind as to start us with the conventional procedure."

Percy looked high and mighty – and rather pompous – as he straightened in his wooden chair to the left of Scrimgeour. He quickly assembled his notes, cleared his throat also, and began.

"On the 14th of January, year 2006, Ronald Bilius Weasley is called to court to be tried by the full Wizengamot for the murder of Narcissa Black-Malfoy, mother of the appellee, Draco Malfoy."

Percy continued for a few moment more, describing the terms of the trial, the state in which Narcissa was found, and so on.

They questioned Malfoy first, asking him to be precise about what he found, when it happened, etc.

Arnold Shweiber was interrogating him mercilessly, throwing questions that might catch him off guard but Malfoy caught him each time with ease. He spoke languidly and never let anything take him by surprise.

"Mr. Malfoy, you say you came home to find your mother's body lying as it was. Why was it, pray tell, that you were not home with her? Surely you knew that the War was a dangerous time. Your father was a Death Eater and that portrayed great risk for your mother – why would you leave her by herself?"

Malfoy snarled at him, baring his teeth. His eyes glinted with hatred and slight insanity as he said, "So what you're implying is that I'm an irresponsible son, is it? I'm the son of a Death Eater so I can't possibly care about other people? I wasn't home because I was in hiding – something you very well know, I take it. It might have been a selfish decision, but it was the only wise one. My mother was not by herself; my father was still staying in the house. I thought since my father was in the high ranks of the Dark Lord's circle, both he and the Dark Lord would surely protect her."

Shweiber raised his eyebrows and said, "But Mr. Malfoy, our records show that Lucius Malfoy left his household just after the war started."

For a split second, Hermione thought she saw surprise in Malfoy's eyes. She doubted anyone else caught it, for the next second he was glaring at Ron's lawyer again.

"I can assure you that my father was present in the house with her. The only time he left was for convening with the Dark Lord or other Death Eaters. I know for a fact that he never put my mother in direct danger – he always did what he could to protect her without disobeying the Dark Lord," said Malfoy.

Was Malfoy actually defending his father? The father that he hated?

"Regardless, Mr. Malfoy, at the time of your mother's death she was definitely in the household alone, except for the Order members," said Shweiber.

The questioning continued. At one point Scrimgeour had to call order because Shweiber was becoming ruthless. Hermione had to applaud Ron at his choice for a lawyer – this man was doing everything he could to defend his client.

When it was Ron's turn for questioning the whole Wizengamot, along with Malfoy's lawyer, questioned him.

"Mr. Weasley, please state the intentions of the Order when they raided Malfoy Manor," said Griselda Marchbanks.

"It was a standard procedure," Ron stammered. "I was the head of the mission. It was strictly investigation – no spells were to be fired and no one was to be injured. We didn't see anyone in the house. We thought perhaps Narcissa was gone or something, we didn't know. We knew for a fact that Lucius wasn't there anymore so we assumed he either took Narcissa with him or she went into hiding."

"Who else went on this raid?"

"It was a small squad. Me, my brother Fred, Zacharias Smith – 'course he's dead now, Anthony Goldstein – dead too, and Lee Jordon."

"And you say you never saw Narcissa in the house?"

"No, I never did. We all split up in the house and went our separate ways to cover space and save time. We didn't find anything out of the ordinary. Lucius was smart and hid everything or took it with him. We were only in the house for two hours."

Just then, the main exit doors in the back slammed open, revealing Fred Weasley and two others behind him.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Scrimgeour, outraged.

Ron's face turned white when he saw Fred.

"Forgive me, Minister," said Fred humbly. "I do have permission to be here and permission for being late. Thank you kindly, Miss Marchbanks." He winked at her.

Griselda Marchbanks winked back at him ever so slightly so that Scrimgeour didn't notice.

Fred strode down the aisle and Hermione saw that the two other people were Lee Jordon and, surprisingly, Antonin Dolohov.

Hermione stiffened when she saw him, unconsciously touching her throat. She remembered the battle at the Ministry in her 5th year and the damage that he did to her.

He looked old and tired now, his back was slightly crooked and he looked quite insane. The years after the war had evidently taken their toll on him.

"Lee Jordon and I were part of the raid at Malfoy Manor, and Dolohov here has some valuable information for you," said Fred, poking Dolohov with his wand until he was seated.

Scrimgeour refrained from rolling his eyes when he said, "Very well, Mr. Weasley, tell us what you've got."

"Well, it's actually just Lee who's got to talk to you. I just came along for the fun," said Fred gleefully.

Percy looked indignant at Fred's informal behavior.

"Alright then!" said an annoyed Scrimgeour, "Then Mr. Jordon, say what you've got to say and make it quick."

Lee looked affronted, like a bird who's feathers had been ruffled, and said, "Well Mr. Minister, during the raid when I was searching the house on my own, I noticed a shadowy figure in a corner of a bedroom, but when I glanced back it was gone. I didn't say anything, because after I'd gone through all the standard protection spells, I realized there probably wasn't anything there. Stupidly I kept my mouth shut, when clearly there really was a shadowy figure there."

Lee paused to gather his words and continued, "Today I realize that that was the shadow of Lucius Malfoy. He was in the house and that must have meant that Narcissa was too."

"And does what Dolohov have to say correlate with what you just said?" asked Percy eagerly.

Dolohov cleared his throat and said in his scratchy voice, "First off I'd like to reiterate my innocence, so you can't throw me back in Azkaban. I was let off after the war so I'm as innocent as you."

"Get on with it, convict," snarled Scrimgeour.

"Very well. What this man has just said is true. Lucius was in the household, but he wasn't living there. He was there because he received knowledge of the raid. Narcissa was in the house also, hiding in the kitchens in one of the cabinets. She heard talking upstairs and then she heard a door open and close, thinking that the Order members left. She stupidly left her hiding spot and went upstairs, unaware that Lucius was in the house also. Ron Weasley and the rest of the Order members were still wandering the house. Weasley was in the foyer and Lucius was crouching behind him. When Lucius saw that Narcissa was coming in his path, he took advantage of it. He realized he needed to get rid of Narcissa – she had been proving herself unfaithful to the Dark Lord and had been considering going to the Ministry. He put Weasley under the Imperius curse and forced him to kill her, later obliviating Weasley's memory of the past ten minutes and then he hid Narcissa's body."

The entire court room was silent, Dolohov's words ringing in their minds. This story was very different from Malfoy's. Apparently Lucius wasn't protecting Narcissa after all – he had caused her death.

"How can we trust what you're saying is true?" asked Scrimgeour suspiciously.

"I have written proof. This letter was written to the Dark Lord about the events from Lucius a day later."

Dolohov stood and handed an old looking parchment to Scrimgeour. Scrimgeour and the other members of the Wizengamot looked over the paper.

The court looked to Malfoy then, eyes suspecting.

"Mr. Malfoy, this story is quite different from yours," said Scrimgeour.

Malfoy's eyes were wide from Dolohov's story. His mask was forgotten and he looked tormented.

"He lied to me…" whispered Malfoy.

"What's that, boy?" asked Scrimgeour sharply.

"Snape would keep me informed about my father and mother during the War. He told me my father was doing everything in his power to protect my mother," said Malfoy, sounding for all the world like a disappointed little boy.

On the other side of the court, Ron wasn't doing much better. He had just been hit with the information that he did indeed kill someone, albeit unknowingly. Imperius curse or not, he had killed someone. He was a murderer.

The Wizengamot convened to decide an outcome to the trial.

Several minutes later Griselda declared, "Recent conspiring events show that Ronald Weasley did indeed kill Narcissa Malfoy under an Imperius curse. The Imperius constitutes that the victim has no control over his acts and that, caught off-guard, it is almost impossible to throw off. The court hereby finds Ronald Weasley innocent, and Lucius Malfoy guilty."

Hermione almost cried with happiness. Around her Ginny and Harry and Fred and Lee were all sighing with relief.

"As Lucius Malfoy is no longer with us, no punishment can come to him. Morally, everyone in this room should be aware that the murder was brutal and heartless," said Griselda. "I hereby resign this session. Mr. Weasley, you are a free man."

Scrimgeour banged the mallet again and the court was officially dismissed.

Hermione ran to Ron and embraced him and kissed him several times. She noticed that he was stiff beneath her and didn't look as happy as he should have been.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"I don't want to talk right now," said Ron glumly. "I need to talk to my parents and think things over. Tell the others I'll see them later, I guess."

He resignedly walked out of the courtroom without saying anything to anyone else and left the others surprised.

"Why's he leaving without us?" asked Ginny, upset.

Harry's face was stony as he said, "Gin, you probably won't understand, but he needs to be alone. During the War he never killed anyone – he injured plenty but killed no one. I was always the one that killed because I felt more hatred than anyone else. So now Ron gets hit in the face with the fact that he really is a killer, even if he had no choice in it. How would you feel if you found out you killed someone innocent so ruthlessly without even knowing it?"

"But he's not guilty, he's innocent," protested Ginny. Her eyes were starting to fire up. "He was under the Imperius curse, so it wasn't his fault!"

Harry said agitatedly, "Let it go, Ginny. Give Ron his space for a while – he'll come to us when he wants to."

Suddenly what should have been a happy occasion became an angry and confused one. Ginny stalked out angrily followed by an irritated Harry. Fred and Lee left, also feeling less than happy.

Hermione stood there.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around. Malfoy was standing timidly in front of her.

Hermione heaved a sigh and gave him a hug, letting all of her energy go so that she was relying on Malfoy for support. He never let her waver, holding her tightly and steadily.

"I'm so, so sorry," Hermione whispered into his chest, her words muffled. "Everything turned out wrong. You're not happy, Ron's not happy, I'm not happy, no one is."

Malfoy rubbed her back encouragingly. "Can we talk about something a bit more fruitful? I feel like I've had too much seriousness today."

"I have to get back to work," Hermione groaned against him. "Can we talk later? About us and where we stand?"

Malfoy paused, skipping a beat. He recovered quickly, saying, "I think that would be wise. I'll meet you in your office later."

He squeezed her arm and let her go, walking away.

Hermione hesitated before she ran up behind him and turned him around, giving him a kiss.

It was chaste and promised many more to come.