Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters etc. It is all JkR.

The wind whipped along the pathway and scattered the leaves, sending their drying husks skittering across the stone. It was now officially November – the Halloween feast had been two nights earlier – and Draco was officially annoyed. He scowled and drew his cloak closer to him, making his slow, arduous way to Greenhouse Three.

Apparently when Slughorn had said that Draco and Granger would be working on some fiddly potions, he had meant that they would be working on a potion that needed to simmer, untouched, for two weeks and in the meantime they would obtain ingredients for his first year's upcoming lesson. Hence this little fieldtrip to see if Professor Sprout's jumpluff beans had sprouted yet. He glanced over at Granger – for some reason unknown to him, she had chosen to walk at his pace, despite the fact they didn't speak much – and his scowl deepened. She looked disgustingly cheerful, unruly hair whipping about, cheeks red, and actual spring in her step.

"What are you so happy about?" he finally growled, unable to help himself. Thought it had never been made official, as he had done with Potter, the two of them had an uneasy, unspoken truce. He didn't call her names, and if he was a little curt, well, he was sharp with nearly everyone in the school. She in return was civil to him – not trying to dig into his past like the rest of the idiotic prats in this place. They occasionally walked together between mutual classes, and every so often engaged in small talk about school and work, even going so far as to meet in the library to work on a Transfiguration assignment they had been partnered for.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing," she replied, right before she took up humming.

"Granger!"

"Fine. My parents sent me a letter saying we were going to Italy over Christmas holiday."

"How exciting."

"Well, of course it is! I've never been to Italy before. Have you?" Alright, sometimes she pried, but it was never anything personal that he hadn't shared before.

"Of course." He wasn't really in the mood to talk, and he somewhat regretted initiating conversation.

"Well, where did you go?" He sometimes wondered if she just forgot she was in the presence of an ex-Death Eater who's familial home had been her prison.

"We visited family in Milan. Distant cousins. Didn't get around to much sightseeing, but we did get to fly around the countryside a bit. It's nice there." Hopefully this would shut her up. But she kept talking about her plans and where she was going.

Honestly – he had been somewhat polite for a few months, and she felt she could ignore eight years of bad history. Draco let out a sigh of relief as the greenhouse came into view. At last – a respite from her nattering about those Muggle artists, though a few of the names she mentioned were actually wizards.

The way back – the beans had indeed sprouted, and the two of them were levitating the pots in front of them – was once more punctuated by her chattering. Draco had to answer a total of seven questions on the way back to the Potions classroom. He didn't understand it – was she a nervous talker, or did she actually think he cared? It was no small relief when they reached Slughorn's room and he dismissed them early. At least he wouldn't have to make the walk to Charms with her as well.

-O-O-O-O-

Thursday's lunch was bangers and mash. Draco poked at his sausages – he usually quite enjoyed them, but he just wasn't in the mood to eat. Normally, the simple food would have provided the ultimate comfort in the wild November storm that had swept in, but the damp had gotten to his leg and cut his appetite. He saw Daphne Greengrass watching him out of the corner of his eye, but didn't say anything. She suddenly leaned across the table and pulled his plate away. He glanced up, startled.

"You weren't going to eat it," she defended herself. "Anyway, Draco, I have a favor to ask." A favor. Granger still owed him a favor from that Potions class. He still hadn't figured out what to ask for, but doubted he would ever get around to it.

"Mmm. What's up?"

"Well, you're obviously pretty good at Potions, since you're in Slughorn's special class. And, well, Astoria's been having some trouble with the class. She scraped by on her OWLs, but she wants to be a Healer. Could you tutor her?" He was a little surprised that Astoria knew what she wanted to do, and that it was something so practical, but, then again, she had never fit the profile of the average wealthy pureblood.

"Yeah, Daph. Sounds good." An owl interrupted his thought as it landed where his lunch had been, moments before. Odd – mail usually came at breakfast, not lunch. Unless… Yes – he recognized the seal on the envelope – the scale and wand, overlapping. The Wizengamot. "Hold on – I have take this. We'll talk later, yeah?" he muttered, flustered.

"Of course." She had seen the seal – she knew what it meant. Hastily untying the heavy parchment, Draco shoved away from the table. Blindly, he fled the Great Hall, trying to think of a place where he could read the note in private. The common room. Everyone would be at lunch – he would have at least a few minutes to himself.

The founders seemed to sense his urgency and asked him nothing more than, "Password?", and then he was sitting down in blessed silence on one of the couches, shaking fingers opening the envelope.

To Whom It May Concern:

c.c. Mr. Draco L. Malfoy

The Wizengamot informs you that the trial for Mr. Lucius A. Malfoy will take place on Thursday, the 12th of November. Mr. Malfoy will be tried before a jury of 21 Wizengamot members for fraternization with the Death Eater organization, use of the Unforgivable Curses, use of various other illegal Dark Arts, ownership of various illegal Dark artifacts, breach of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, and various crimes against humanity. The trial will be presided over by the Honorable Justine F. Klempington.

As a member of Mr. Malfoy's immediate family, you are ineligible to act as a witness. As a member of Mr. Malfoy's immediate family, you may meet with Mr. Malfoy on Wednesday, the 11th of November, for a period of time not exceeding three hours.

Please direct any questions towards Mr. Albert Newcomb, Wizengamot Public Relations.

Sincerely,

Flora Marst

Secretary-in-Chief, Wizengamot

Draco heaved a sigh of relief – they hadn't sentenced Lucius yet. He had heard the Wizengamot had had a full trial and sentenced Ardus McKinian to life in Azkaban without informing the man's family until a month after the appeal date. And he had heard of the judge – she was rumored to be one of the more unbiased ones still left. Even so, she had probably been hearing Death Eater trials since June. That was bound to shift the bias, one way or the other.

He looked at his watch and swore. Not at the time – he was still firmly in the lunch block – but at the date. They had given him a week to prepare a defense for his father. He summoned parchment and quill to scribble a quick note to his mother. He could only do so much, being stuck at school, and she would know what to do. Sometimes he hated having come back to school, because Narcissa would have to face situations like this alone.

Having finished the note, he flung open the portrait door and almost tripped coming out, running into two sturdy bodies. Cursing his clumsiness, he mumbled a quick thanks and apology rolled into one. He barely noticed it was Potter and his red-haired friend who had caught him before he pushed past them and made his way to the Owlery as quickly as his knee would let him.

A small bubble of hope dared show itself as he watched Daedalus wing away over the Forbidden Forest. His mother would, hopefully, find a defense counselor who would do their job regardless of their opinion of Lucius Malfoy. Even if Lucius ended up doing time in Azkaban, it would probably be a good deal less than most because he had a family to provide for.

The same family he had been protecting against Voldemort's threats by doing the horrific things he had. And Draco had to admit that Lucius had only twice done something worse than Imperio and the occasional Crucio. It wasn't much, but it might be enough.

-O-O-O-O-

The next morning at breakfast was a more painful ordeal than usual. The Daily Prophet always published a list of upcoming Death Eater trials so the public could keep track of the going-ons of the Wizengamot. They rarely, however, published the results of the trials, unless there was a surprise ruling. The whispers and stares seemed to have multiplied by a hundred-fold, and Draco kicked himself mentally for not remembering about the paper and eating in the kitchens.

He idly wondered if this would increase or assuage the anger of those unknown students who lashed out at him in the dark corridors. It was stupid of him, really, to wander the halls, alone, at night, but he couldn't help it. He didn't dare tell Blaise lest his friend think he was some sort of masochist. And it wasn't that he enjoyed the pain – it was just that he knew that other students needed to release their anger and frustration, and he was the convenient target. Plus, it somewhat relieved the guilt he carried for the pain he had caused, even if he hadn't done it personally.

At least it was Friday, though. He just had to get through the day, and then it would be the weekend and he could think of what to do about his father.

Finally becoming fed-up with the constant stares and whispering, Draco decided to just arrive a little early to Charms. Alright, half an hour early, but it was better than sitting with these nattering dunces.

A/N: So, I hope you enjoyed. I don't really like the last bit, but I kindof needed a filler part so the chapter wasn't, like, 1,000 words long. OH well… You know the drill, though – click the little review button below! Thanks!

Also, many thanks to Madame Lure for keeping me writing. Don't know what I would do without her reminders that Wednesday is only a few days away :-)