Disclaimer: I still don't own the HP Universe or PATD. But if someone is looking to buy me a birthday/Christmas present, these would be a great place to start.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was not somewhere Draco had wanted to find himself. He was already on thin ice after the events preceding the end of the war, and he knew that even the most minor of transgressions could have serious repercussions. He didn't even want to think about how horribly this situation would play out. I wasn't as though he was caught with Pepper Up Potion. Once the potions masters the ministry employed figured out exactly what potion he had in his bag, he was going to be in a world of trouble. He looked at the bare, drab walls of the interrogation room they had left him in. He knew that someone had to be watching him, even though he could not see them. He tried to keep an unaffected look, a look of innocence, which was admittedly an exercise in futility. No matter how innocent he looked, he couldn't make the evidence of the potions go away. He settled for staring at a spot on the wall and mentally counting down the seconds that turned into minutes while he waited for someone to come back into the room. The only thing he could hope for was that he managed to find someone compassionate in the department who wouldn't immediately throw the book at him based on his previous actions. He knew that he was in danger of being sent to Azkaban. But really, he thought, would that be so terrible? If they administer the Kiss, and the fractured remains of my soul are taken from me, then I won't need the potion to take away the pain. This thought comforted him, and he began to realize that there were far worse things than being given the ultimate punishment. It was at that moment that he hit his rock bottom and realized that no life at all was better than the life he was currently living. As he was having this sudden epiphany, the door to the room finally opened. He looked over and groaned. The absolute last person he wanted to see was Harry fucking Potter. But there he was, looking at him with disgust in his eyes.
"Malfoy," he said. "I'm so glad to see you are making the most of the second chance you were given after the war. Is there any particular reason you were walking around Knockturn Alley in the middle of the night with a sack full of the Opius Potion?"
"I don't have to answer to you, Potter," Draco spat. "You are nothing to me, so you can just turn right back around and crawl back into whatever hole you came out of. The last thing I want is to deal with you."
"Considering I'm the auror assigned to this case, you might want to rethink your position and your tone," Harry responded.
Draco put his head in his hands. Just when he thought that the situation couldn't get any worse, his case gets assigned to the Boy Who Just Wouldn't Die. He stayed in that position for several minutes hoping against hope that when he lifted his head Potter would have been nothing more than a terrible hallucination. After a few moments, he slowly looked up to see Potter still standing there staring at him. At this point, there was absolutely nothing that could make this situation any worse. Unless, of course, that insufferable Granger or that idiot Weasley came into the room. If that happened, they wouldn't have to worry about a trial or sending him to Azkaban, because he would simply bang his head into a wall until he dropped dead in the interrogation room. While these thoughts were racing through his head, Potter remained silent and just stared at him. When Draco met his eyes, he saw that he was no longer looking at him with disgust, but with pity. That was just about enough for Draco. He would not sit there and allow Harry bleeding Potter look at him like he was some kind of pitiful charity case.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Potter. Stop looking at me like I'm some kind of lost little puppy. While I seriously doubt your intelligence or capability to perform your job, let's move past the formalities. You know why I had that potion. I know why I had that potion. So let's skip the melodramatic scenes and get down to business. Chuck me in Azkaban and throw me to the dementors," Draco said with an extremely quiet, deadly tone.
"Malfoy, believe it or not, I don't want to just—how did you put it—Oh yes, 'chuck you in Azkaban and throw you to the dementors," he replied. "Yes, I know why you had those potions. And I know enough about those potions to know how you're going to be feeling in a couple of hours without it. But I assure you, no matter how hellacious you will feel, you do not want to be sent to the dementors. Besides, even if I wanted to send you to Azkaban, you are still required to have a trial through the Wizengamot. There are protocols that have to be followed, even if you're willingly asking to go to Azkaban at the moment."
"Well, call the Wizengamot in and let's get this over with. I am fully prepared to accept my punishment. In fact, at this point, I welcome it. It's a hell of a lot easier to not feel anything if you don't have a soul. It's not like I have anything to want to live for at this point. The way I see it, this is a quicker, cleaner means to an end. And everyone would be better off for it."
Harry sighed in exasperation. "We cannot call in the Wizengamot in the middle of the night. And even if we could, you have to wait until your trial comes up on the schedule. For the moment, we are going to have to send you to St. Mungo's. We do not have the capability to help you here once the potion wears off, so for the safety of everyone involved, including yourself, the chief auror has ordered us to take you to St. Mungo's, where you will be held until your trial with the Wizengamot. You do not have an option, so don't even try to object," he said, holding up a hand when Draco looked as though he was about to speak. He thought for a moment before asking the next question, even though he knew he had to ask it. "Who do you want us to floo to notify them of your arrest and placement at St. Mungo's?"
Draco looked at him like he had grown an extra head. "What do you mean who do I want you to floo? Nobody, you daft moron! Why would I want to alert anyone to the fact that I was arrested and will be held involuntarily at St. Mungo's? What a stupid question to ask—"
"That's enough, Malfoy," Harry said, cutting him off. "We have to floo someone when you're being transferred to St. Mungo's. You have to know someone who we can notify."
"Who exactly would you suggest, Potter? My dead parents? My long-suffering best friends? Just let it go. I don't want treatment. I don't want to floo anyone. I just want this all to be over."
"I'm not going to be reprimanded because you're being obstinate. Give me a name. If you do not, I will start flooing all of the Slytherins in our year until I find someone who is willing to come. So unless you want me to wake up all of them in the middle of the night to inform them of your situation, you might want to think of someone."
"For the love of Merlin, Potter. You really are an annoying bastard, you know that? Fuck you and fuck your precious protocol."
"Malfoy, I'm giving you thirty seconds to give me a name, or I will start flooing Slytherins. What's it going to be?"
"You're giving me a headache. Heaven knows we don't want the golden boy to get in trouble. Of course you could probably burn this whole building down and nobody would even bat an eye. Hell, they would probably give you an award for services to the Ministry for allowing them the opportunity to redecorate."
"Stop changing the subject. A name, Malfoy."
"Your voice is grating in my head. Just know the only reason I'm cooperating is because it is the only way to get you to shut the hell up. Floo Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, they're the only people who will give a damn about any of this."
"Parkinson and Zabini? They don't exactly seem to be the compassionate type. Are you sure that's who you want us to floo?"
"Firstly, you know nothing about them. Secondly, you sat here and badgered me to give you names, and now those names are not sufficient. This is the part where you're supposed to finally shut your annoying trap, turn around, leave the room, and floo the people I just named. This is not the part where you are supposed to question me when I just gave you what you wanted. Now stop talking and get this over with. The sooner I'm away from you, the happier I'll be."
Harry just shook his head and wordlessly turned around and left the room. He didn't know what he did to deserve having to deal with Draco Malfoy again, but he was sure going to do his best to earn some good karma points. He walked into his office and pulled out the floo directory. One of the perks of being an auror was the book that gave the location of everyone's residences, and therefore their floo connections. Another perk was that even if someone had blocked off their floo connection, aurors were able to break through the block. He was not looking forward to these conversations. He had never exactly been friendly with either Parkinson or Zabini, and he didn't think that this call was going to endear him to them. Finally locating the specific floos he needed, he threw some powder into the fireplace and kneeled down.
"Pansy Parkinson!"