i do not own Harry Potter.

Silver and Gold
tapping a finger on a desk

Trio

Harry watched, carefully.

It almost surprised Hermione, because no matter how much death and pain and grief they go through, she still expected her boys to stay the same—innocent, almost careless. Not that she wasn't (innocent, not careless) which was somewhat odd among her current generation. Hermione Granger, innocent? Why yes, didn't you hear? Even though she was tortured by one of the forbidden curses, broken down, and gave up her family for Harry Potter (Mr. and Mrs. Granger later came back, furious about the memory wipe), she was still innocent and sweet and all that stuff that was common before the bloody war.

Anyway.

The point was that despite the seriousness of the situation, she felt almost giddy. Like she wanted to laugh. Badly. Which was not good on public television. She took a deep breath, then looked around the room.

And then she caught Draco's eye.

An entry from the diary of
Luther D. Hanson
(First published two months in Voldemort's gain for power)

December 16, Year 7 of Hogwarts

I met Rosalinda Flint today.

The one Johnson is always talking about—her beauty, her grace, her hate for Muggles. I thought the last quality is something of a damper on his description of a kind soul.

She is nothing special, really. Orange hair, brown eyes, pale skin without any freckles. A rather nice figure, but more like a fourth year than a seventh.

Other than that, there isn't much else to say. Went to Transfiguration; got a detention.

Minister

"And we proceed with Ronald Weasley, a pureblood."

Trio

Hermione did not stare (merely observed) as Ron sputtered for a second, his eyes wide. "Um, I guess—I, yes. I think th-that they should face the penalties." He then ducked his head, like he was a little boy who ate a cookie before dinner and didn't want to admit it.

Draco looked like he was chuckling.

"Good, good," said the minister with the long name. "Good. You chose the right choice, Ronald. Your father raised you well." He smirked at the Death Eaters as he got up and faced the WizardCam. "Ronald Weasly said yes—a tally, please."

A tally was made on a board by Umbridge (who did not die in the war, got away by betraying a few fellow Death Eaters, and Harry thought about personally firing her) who was scowling as she raised her pudgy hand to make a tally. (Tally. Like this was a game of child sports!)

Hermione crossed her legs and looked around—catching Draco's eye again. She blinked, and thought how hard it was for him, alone and the only heir of his father's fortune—that might not be even a fortune after this—and she felt something well inside her, like a washcloth that was soaking water.

He looked away, but the feeling stayed. She frowned, remembering the way he looked at her before, like he was amused, like he found this all funny. Like his father and his cousins and his uncles and his family wasn't in trial. Except no spell could give them a pleasant, tickling sensation now while they burned.

And really, he—

He was thin, too thin. Harry and Ron were already were eating more protein while lifting weights. He was as pale as opals and his mother was blinking rapidly.

And Draco's eyes were silver.

Where did that come from? she suddenly thought. But before she could explore the unexplained observation, her attention was snapped back to the trial.

"And so the Weasly's are a great model family—purebloods but kind, people, kind! They live poorly and have too many kids but they are strong and live wealthy in love. Love, people. Love is our greatest friend."

…What? Hermione groaned slightly and her eyes flickered over to Ron, who was getting redder and redder at the minister's words.

I think Ron's about to hex him.

She sat straighter and shook herself before the minister stopped talking. "And now onto the Boy Who Lived!"

The Malfoy family:
minus Lucius

He watched, as the laying out was interesting.

He watched Granger, the way she sat and the way she whispered something to her friends. The way her face turned grim and the way it scowled when she saw something she didn't like. The cage, for instance.

He gripped his mother's hand even harder.

An entry from the diary of
Luther D. Hanson

December 23, Year 7 at Hogwarts

Johnson and even Geoffrey dragged me to Fanga's Brew today, intent on getting a lady for the Tri Ball thing. "I don't understand," I told them. "The best place to get a dance invitation is at school!"

Geoffrey laughed. "Fanga's Brew is the best place to get them drunk enough to convince one of them to accept Johnson's invitation."

Johnson replied with a "hah!" and a smack to the stomach when we bumped into Rosalinda Flint on her way with some other Slytherin girls. Us Ravenclaws stiffened, but Johnson, who was a Gryffindor, bowed most handsomely and said, "Ah fair maidens, do thou give this humble knight a chance to dance on the fair evening of the ball?"

Rosalinda and Yulee laughed, but Hester and Honey nodded and that was how the brave and stupid Johnson got stuck with two dates, both of them foul.

Minster

"So, the Boy Who Lived, are you ready to decide?"

Draco

More like the Boy That Just Wouldn't Die, thought Draco bitterly.

Harry

"Yes," said Potter quietly.

Minister

"And singlehandedly killed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

Draco

He did us at least one favor, Malfoy hissed.

Trio

"You okay?" whispered Harry as Hermione tapped one of her fingers on the desk, deep in thought. But she didn't answer.

Before she did. "This isn't sane," she murmured.

Hermione sat up a little straighter. She glanced at Harry and then at Ron.

"No."

i played around with the format on this one so i hope its better.