Misgiven Trust

In the cool hours of the early morning, two cloaked men walked hurriedly down an uneven stone street. There was not a single other soul in sight, and all that could be seen were two mysterious floating globes of light following the men; almost as if by magic.

"Damn it!" One of the two cursed in a loud, gruff voice as he tripped on a loose slab of stone. He was slightly taller of the two, but he trudged along behind the other as they ran down the silent street. "Which building was it again?"

The other smirked under his hood as he hurried on. "17." He replied evenly. "17 Cumberland Terrace."

"Merlin's shriveled left te…"

"Don't even finish that." The man laughed out loud and the other joined in.

"Why must the muggles make London look so…confusing?" The first complianed after they had regained composure.

"Just because you live in a house the size of a quidditch arena…" The second man said as he skidded to a halt. "Doesn't mean that everyone does. These are normal buildings." He paused as looked around. "Alright here we are."

The first man collided with the second and gravity did the rest as the two spiraled to the stone pavement.

The second man hopped right up and said in a stern voice, "Watch yourself, Malfoy!" Under the darkness of his hood, he concealed a huge grin.

"Alright, sorry…" The man said as he slowly got up. His hood had fallen, and as he began to dust himself off, the wandlight reflected bright shining light off his pale white hair. "You know, Potter, you're awful snotty for a man who is supposed to be a hero."

"What do you mean, 'supposed to be'?" Harry countered, never letting down his grin. "I saved your scared-y ass, remember?" He began to walk up the walkway to 17 Cumberland Terrace to signify that he had won.

"Yeah, I remember…" Draco hung his head low as he slowly followed Harry up the walkway towards a great big building full of many flats, remembering the incident in the room of requirement. The grounds were bare, save the walkway and the flower beds that lined the walkway.

Harry smirked as he reached the door and looked back. He had gotten the best of Draco today, but the same might not be said tomorrow. Ever since the fall of Voldemort no longer than a year ago, the two had become, if not friends, then close acquaintances. It was a little game they played, the bantering. They called harmless fun; Hermione called it mindless, despicable and immature.

More mindless, despicable, and immature than Ron is, she had said. She must not like it all too much.

"What the hell are we doing here anyway?" Draco pouted as he reached the front steps with Harry.

Harry lowered his wand and released the light and Draco did the same. "I told you." Harry said as he unlocked the muggle lock on the ornate door with ease. "This is the last trace to my family that I've got."

Draco sighed but did not respond. He followed Harry into the room and asked, "What floor?"

"Three."

The entry room was bare; it was just a large living room that could be used by any of the building's residents. Many muggle devices that Harry recognized to be television sets littered the room, but he paid no heed. He found the stairs opposite the entry door and began to run up them two at a time, Draco right on his tail.

"Remind me again why I'm here?" Draco muttered as they stopped on the third floor of the building, which opened to a large hallway with two doors, one on the left and one on the right.

"You know why." Harry responded coolly. Sometimes, even the new Malfoy could be irritating. "This is dangerous stuff, you knew Voldemort. The addresses on that list could contain anything…"

"Yes, but why me?"

"Because I asked you to!" Harry exclaimed in a hushed whisper. "When you became an Auror, you took a pledge to listen to me. I call the shots."

"Yeah, 'cause you're the Head Auror now, aren't you?" Draco sneered sarcastically.

"Shut up, Malfoy. You know the dark arts more than just about any other Auror in the squad. That list of addresses we found on Voldemort's dead body can be very dangerous. Maybe it was his secret hideouts, maybe it is where he stores his secret weapons, we don't know. So can you just relax and listen to me for another half of an hour? Then you can go get your precious sleep."

"Fine. Which door?"

"The one on the left." Harry replied shortly.

Draco opened the door and entered the flat first. It was a typical, bare flat on the inside. Once Harry entered, he closed the door and muttered, "lumos." The light from his wand revealed nothing out of the ordinary. The flat had three rooms, and entry living room, a bedroom, and a kitchen; with a fourth room if you counted the bathroom next to the bedroom.

Disappointing; no traps. No Death Eaters, waiting to ambush them. No terrifying beast, guardian of all things dark, ready to pounce. No life.

"I don't know what you expected to find here." Draco muttered loudly as he trudged across the room. He made no effort to conceal his displeasure. "Just another muggle rut from what I can tell. But hell, what do I know, right?"

Harry glared at him. "They may have hid here, Malfoy." Harry scowled. "I just needed to check."

"Why do you care so much for these muggles, anyway?" Draco scoffed. He continued to pace around the room while Harry stayed routed to the spot at the entryway.

Harry hesitated just a bit. "They cared for me half of my life. I need to see them again."

"Well, let's see, we haven't searched the whole place yet." Draco mocked in a loud voice. He raised his wand and flourished it wildly as if he were trying to hit a fly with it. Different colored sparks erupted from his wand at irregular intervals. "…Not under the bed…Not under the kitchen table…Not in that crazy muggle device…" He muttered madly as he upturned the entire room with a plethora of spells.

Harry could only furiously watch in disbelief as the room was reduced to mere splinters, torn cloth and scrap metal.

Once completed, Draco rounded angrily on Harry. "Oh…sorry Harry…guess there's no one here…Shit…" He mocked, then spinning on the spot and appariting out of sight.

Mouth agape, Harry stood in utter shock at what had just happened. "What the hell…" Harry murmured as he walked out the room and locked the door behind him. He would have to clean up Draco's mess later.

Sighing, he was just about to apparite as well when he instead got the urge to walk back home.

Draco groaned as he woke up at around midday the next day. His head was pounding so hard that he was having trouble remembering what had happened last night. He sat up in his bed, eyes still closed, and he scratched the back of his head.

What happened?

Flashing lights and faint image of a glowering Harry were all he could remember. Lights…oh yeah, that was his spells that wrecked that muggle flat, thus making Harry mad. Yeah, he was a jerk last night, Draco thought to himself, but he didn't hurt anybody, right?

What after that?

Then…then he apparited to a bar and had a few drinks. Yes, that would explain the headache. And a dim image of him jumping into his bed back at the Malfoy Manor was the last thing he remembered. And he also remembered a feeling of delight when he realized that his father wasn't home. He would have been pissed.

But…something wasn't right. This bed; it felt different. Draco furrowed his brow an inch as he opened his eyes. What he saw made him gasp loudly.

This was not his room. The normal green and black sheets and other decorations in his real room were not present. No statues of Slytherin or of snakes were in sight, and neither was any sort of decoration really. What he did see was far less comforting.

Three of the walls in this new, square room were made of tan stone, and the fourth was a wall of bars. He had been placed in a cell.

A bare cell at that. He was given a cot and a lavatory, but nothing else. But not that he was really worrying about what comforts he had; he was busy asking himself how he got put in there.

Beyond the cell bars, Draco saw a room that he recognized. This was the basement in the Auror's department in the Ministry of Magic. He knew this room well, just not from the angle at which he was currently at. This room was where most of the interrogating and questioning of dangerous criminals takes place. At the center of the bare room before him was a lone table; nothing more save the chairs. And apart from a second cell that he knew was directly next to his cell, there was nothing else.

Wait, what? Why the hell was he being questioned as a criminal?

All at once, Draco heard two pairs of feet bound down the metal staircase from the other side of the room. As they came into view at the base of the staircase, Draco recognized one to be the ginger head, Ron Weasley. His eyes were red and puffy, but that was usual for the late sleeper in the early morning. The other was Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic and as indifferent as usual.

"-we have a great amount of evidence-" Kingsley was saying as they sat at the table. Neither paid the slightest regard to the inmate.

"B-but are you sure?"

"In a murder such as this, you can never be sure. But all the evidence is definitely pointing in that direction."

"Wow." Ron said quietly, more to himself. "He trusted him…"

A pause came up and Draco took his opportunity. "Will either of you please tell me what the hell I'm doing here?"

Ron acted as if he didn't hear him and stared at a fixed point on the table, in a trance. Kingsley simply said, "Shut up! You'll have your chance to defend yourself."

"Defend myself?" Draco replied, very much taken aback. "From what?"

Kingsley ignored him and turned back to Ron. "Does his wife know yet?"

Ron shook his head slowly. "I talked to Hermione a little while ago through the floo network. She should be bringing her over soon."

"Does Hermione know yet?"

Ron shook his head again. "I couldn't bear to tell her right then." He replied, tears freely flowing from his eyes now. "I couldn't…I can't…She'll be devastated…"

Kingsley sighed. "Alright, I'll tell them both."

Ron didn't even nod to acknowledge that he had heard. A small puddle was growing on the table right below his chin full of his tears.

Draco was beginning to get concerned. "Wait, did something happen?" He asked.

Unsurprisingly, neither responded. Instead, Ron grimaced as two more pairs of feet bounded down the basement stairs.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed as she and Ginny ran down and sat down next to them on the table. Her hair was on edge and messy, a clear sign that she had been running quite a bit. Ginny's too, but to a much less extent; though she did have an equal look of concern as she saw Ron's tear-stained face. "Ron, what's going on? What happened? You look horrible."

In response, Ron said meekly, "Morning, 'mione, Ginny. We have some bad news."

"Bad?" Ginny asked uncertainly. "What do you mean? How bad? Wh-" She paused. "W-where's Harry?"

Silence.

"Ginny-" Kingsley said finally, staring her dead in the eyes.

"No!" Ginny exclaimed loudly, sensing the pity in Kingsley's stare. She jumped right out of her chair and stepped back a few steps. "Please! Don't tell me that; I don't want to hear it!" She brought her hands up and bit into her knuckles so hard that she almost drew blood, just to ease the pain she was feeling. Already her eyes began to water up.

Kingsley continued. "Ginny, as you know, yesterday Harry conducted a mission along side with Draco Malfoy. I sent some backup when he didn't return on time, but it was too late…"

"Too late…" Ginny murmured as a river of tears ran down here tender cheeks.

"Ginny," Kingsley took a deep breath. Even his eyes were beginning to gloss over. "Harry Potter has been murdered."

That did it. All chaos was let loose and pandemonium took over the room. Ginny shrieked and fell to her knees as she cried her heart out. The same goes for Hermione. Ron's head plopped into his folded arms on the table and his nose delved into the tear puddle that he had created and was still adding to. A tear ran down Kingsley's cheek and many sobs were heard from Draco's cell.

Ginny's sobs went on for the better part of half an hour, long after everyone else had at least regained most of their composure.

"Ginny…" Ron said, puffy-eyed and weak at heart. "Please. Come here. I don't want to see you so torn apart. Nobody does. You can't get through this alone."

"I have to." Ginny sniffed. "He's gone-" Her sobs renewed with increased vigor. She sat with her back against the wall and her knee pulled all the way up to her chin. And her arms, crossed across the knees, became the nest for her head.

"We're here for you, Ginny." Hermione added in a high pitch tone, airy and lifeless.

Either Ginny detected the lack of conviction in her voice, or she just did not care as she did not move an inch.

Both Ron and Hermione knew that trying to convince her to move right would be futile. Ginny was stubborn in the best of time, why would she change when her lover was killed?

"How did this happen? W-who did this?" Hermione asked when they turned back to Kingsley.

"As I was saying, Harry was off, along with Draco, investigating an address on that list that we found on Voldemort. He did not return when he should have, nor did Draco." He paused, all the emotions he had felt at the time were coming back. "I dispatched some more Aurors to investigate. They found the address that they had reported to, but they need not go in the building to find Harry…"

He continued. "He was found in the middle of a street near where he reported to, Cumberland Terrace. He was face down, and a knife plunged into the back of his neck."

Ginny's sobs intensified further still and, as much as it pained him to do it, Ron ignored her. "A…a knife?" He asked quizzically.

"Yes."

"But…wouldn't that make it easy to identify the murderer?"

"Yes, apparently he didn't think it out very well. I said we had convincing evidence."

"So?" Hermione snapped tearfully. "Who brought this hell on us?"

Kingsley sighed. "Well, Draco's disappearance from the scene was suspicious enough. So when our Aurors examined the knife carefully, it came as no great surprise that it was indeed Malfoy's."

However, it did come as a great surprise for three people in that room. Ginny and Hermione were utterly hysteric over the information, seemingly inconsolable. And Draco…was petrified.

Draco felt all of his muscles lock up when he heard his name called. Sitting on the bed, he almost fell flat on his face on the ground in front of him when he heard what he was accused of.

"What the hell?!" was one of the numerous thoughts that had flooded his mind. "I didn't kill Potter! At least…I don't think so…"

That was the problem. He wanted to think that he didn't do it, but even as of this moment, a vast proportion of the preceding night lay in a hazed delirium. What he did know was that he was tremendously angry with Harry that night. And, usually, alcohol and anger do not go well together.

Meanwhile, Kingsley continued to explain to, basically, just Ron, because Hermione and Ginny were losing their minds with sorrow.

"-We found Draco asleep at the Malfoy Manor. Our Aurors quickly stunned him in his sleep and moved him back here, where we are ready to question him."

"What th-?" Ron exclaimed. "Why would a murderer hide in such an obvious spot as that?"

"Well, I thought about that myself." Kingsley frowned. "I think that he either thought was a very safe spot, which it is in the best of times. That, or we also found him to be very drunk."

"Ah." Ron said, unimpressed. "That's Malfoy for you. He always hits the bars after work. I guess it was only a matter of time…Bloody Hell, why did Harry trust him!"

"Yes we all wondered that…" Kingsley sighed. "Well, we have Draco here now if you all are ready to question him."

Ron nodded. Hermione was starting to come around, but Ginny was still rolling on the floor, overtaken with anxiety and distress. "Yes, where is he?" After all that had been said, he had completely forgot that Draco was already here.

"In that cell over there." Kingsley said, pointing the direction.

Ron looked up and, sure enough, Draco was sitting in his cell, huddled up on his bed. Up to this point he did not even notice the murderer's presence, or so he thought, but now that he locked eyes with Malfoy, he was overcome with a wave of fury. However, someone else in the room had a much larger wave.

Ginny's sobs almost immediately ceased. She sprang to her feet and, with the eyes of a madman, turned and glared at Draco. Draco could only cringe as her stare penetrated his eyes and made him shiver in fear.

Draco put his head down and closed his eyes frightfully as Ginny advanced on him. "How could you do this to him?!" She hollered, a tear rolling down her face. "How could you do this to me?! He trusted you!" When she had reached the cell he was in, she clasped the bars and looked in on him, absolutely livid. "Answer me!"

Slowly, Draco opened his eyes and looked up her pityingly. She was an absolute wreck, but that just added to her frightening appearance. "I-I didn't do it…" Draco said pitifully.

"Didn't do it!" Ginny roared inhumanly. "All the evidence suggests it was you, how can you even say it wasn't?!"

"I didn't…" Draco repeated feebly.

Ginny, eyes blazing, looked ready to holler some more but her long-time friend held her back. Hermione gently pulled Ginny away from the cell. All of Ginny's fury was instantly turned into sorrow once more, as Ginny broke down into sobs. Her head delved into Hermione's shoulder, and Hermione did what she could to soothe Ginny; which, at the moment, was only gentle pats on the back.

"Hermione," Ron said quietly, walking up behind them. "Can you take Ginny upstairs, please?"

Hermione slowly withdrew and grabbed Ginny's hand. Ginny gave into the guidance of Hermione as Hermione tugged her by the hand up the stairs and out of sight. With a thud the door closed shut.

Ron watched them leave, and then turned back to Draco. He grabbed a chair from the table and placed it in front of the cell bars and sat in it. Kingsley did the same.

Draco cringed in fear as Ron opened his mouth. "So, you finally did it, huh? After all those years in school." Draco could see the deep hatred in his eyes. "After all the time you spent insulting him, you finally cracked."

Draco withered and could not mutter a response under his glare. His body was shaking from head to toe by now, and his eyes were full of fear and confusion.

"Go on; mutter your feeble lies of innocence and purity. It's nothing I haven't heard before but, eh, it's worth a shot."

"It wasn't me…" Draco mouthed into the air.

"Even feebler than I expected…" Ron muttered loudly. "I don't suppose you have any proof?"

"Proof of innocence?" Draco countered, suddenly getting very angry. "Now you sound like the idiot. You can't prove innocence, only guilt. And right now, the only proof you have is a knife that I have never seen before! How can that-"

Draco's voice fell short. A sudden remembrance from last night had appeared in his mind. He knew who it was now! Yes, it all made sense!

Meanwhile, Ron taunted, "Yes Malfoy, it was your knife, we have checked and double-checked and it is most certainly yours. So if that is all that you have to offer, Kingsley, you can take him to your office where he will await your verdict."

"Wait, I know who it is now!" Draco shouted.

"Kingsley," Ron said, ignoring Draco. "Kindly escort him away, please. When you have made your decision, could you please let me know?"

Kingsley nodded and opened up the cell door and magically bounded Draco's arms together.

"Wait, you don't understand!" Draco shouted, resisting Kingsley's pushes as best he could. But Kingsley, the stronger man, was more than a match for the weaker, bounded Malfoy. "You've got the wrong man!"

"Yeah, sure we do…" Ron muttered as he watched Draco get forced up the stairs.

Draco shouted in a last effort, "It was-!"

But the rest on that sentence did not land upon Ron's ears. The heavy duty door down to this cellar was closed forcibly just then and Draco, being on the outside, was not able to shout loud enough to penetrate its thick, metal frame.

Ron sighed and began to tidy up in the room a little bit. Those words had a great deal of impact on him, even though he felt certain that they were lies. Ron had no idea who Draco was going to blame, but he didn't really care either.

The room didn't really need any tidying up. All that was out of place was the two chairs that he and Kingsley had used. It was after Ron had finished moving the chairs back that the door to the basement opened and closed once more.

This time, it was Hermione, and Hermione alone, that hurried down the steps. She flung herself at him and suddenly, Ron found himself in the middle of a tight hug. He bent his neck and lightly kissed her on the forehead and, for a while, they swayed silently in each other's grasp.

After a few minutes, Ron was the one who broke the serene peace. "Where's Ginny?" He asked quietly.

"I flooed her to the Burrow." Hermione sniffed. "I only dropped her off. I didn't tell anyone anything, but I suppose they probably know by now. I thought it would be the best place for her to calm down."

Ron, picturing his mum also in hysterics along with Ginny, could have thought of a bunch of other, better places for her to be sent, but he held his silence.

"I can't believe he's gone…" Hermione wept, sending her into uncontrollable sobs once more. And though Ron only tried to cheer her up without any reply, he felt the same way.

As much as he didn't want to wake up the next morning, Ron dragged himself out of his comfortable bed early in the morning. He and Hermione now lived in a flat in London. He was careful not to wake Hermione as he slipped out and began to dress himself for work. There was quite a bit left to do, and Ron was to investigate the Malfoy Manor while Kingsley made his verdict.

For Draco's case, they weren't going to use the whole Wizengamot. Basically, that meant that they already made up their minds.

Hermione made a little sigh in her sleep just as Ron was walking out the door. It was so sad, really. Harry and Ginny had gotten married mere weeks after Voldemort had fallen and Ron and Hermione were engaged. It was supposed to be a happy time, perfect down to the last detail; namely, that Mrs. Weasley was totally unopposed to both weddings.

And yet, it was not.

What happened in the past is done, what bothered Ron the most was the question, what is going to happen next? Ron's deep hate for Draco had no bearing anymore in his mind. What's done is done, and taking it all out on Malfoy wouldn't solve anything.

No, taking all his rage out on Draco wouldn't make Ginny happy once more. It wouldn't make Hermione full of glee. It wouldn't bring Harry back.

That would be the hardest part, accepting that he wouldn't come back. Nearly eight years ago, they had met on that fateful day. The two misfits on the train became best of friends within hours and never looked back. They stumbled a bit in their fourth year, but Ron was ready to admit that had been because he was blinded by his own jealousy. And, even now and for the rest of time, they would remain best friends.

Ron was so absorbed in thought that he nearly ran into the door of Malfoy Manor. He had apparited and walked to the large, dreary house without even remembering he had done so.

After regaining his composure, Ron knocked on the large, black door.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Lucius Malfoy emerged from beyond it. "Ah, Weasley, so…nice…of you to drop by. Where's Potter?" He sneered.

Tall as Ron was, Lucius stood half a head taller than he. His blonde hair was tied back in a greasy ponytail, as usual, and nothing seemed to change in his demeanor.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't need to, Malfoy, but I must investigate your son's room." Ron shot back. He wanted to make this as short and painless as possible.

"Yes, Draco," He mused. "finally he did something useful and he gets punished for it. Shame..shame…"

Ron frowned. Even for Lucius, this seemed very callous. Although, Ron couldn't really judge as he had never, that he could remember, heard Lucius talk too much of his son.

"So, you don't care that he may be sentenced to death?"

"No, no, you need to expand your mind." Lucius smirked. "He did what the Dark Lord could not. This is not a crime, but he has brought pride once more to the Malfoy name!"

"Uh-huh…" Ron frowned. "Just lead me to your son's room."

"Very well." Lucius replied. "Follow me."

As Ron followed Lucius through the numerous hallways in the Manor, he thought about how easy that had been. He had almost been expecting to get into duel with Malfoy, then and there, because Malfoy's were so proud and mighty.

Soon enough, they reached a room and stopped before its doors. "Here you are, Weasley, do as you wish in there. I must be on my way now; I trust you will see yourself out?"

Ron nodded.

"And don't put your filthy hands on anything outside of Draco's room. If you do, I should know about it."

Ron didn't even have a chance to respond as Lucius apparited on the spot and vanished from sight.

Ron shook his head and turned to Draco's door. He grabbed the door handle, in the shape of a snake, and opened it. Draco's room, as it turns out, was not much different than what Ron had been expecting. Everything was either green, black or silver and there were snakes everywhere.

The only thing that Ron saw upon first sight that might be of use was a wand on Draco's wardrobe. Ron examined it closely and concluded that, indeed, it was Draco's. But a lot of good that did, as it was knife which did the deed, not a wand.

Ron sighed. He did not know what he had expected to find here. But, then, he heard a loud wail that came from somewhere down the hall.

Ron's ears perked up at that. Curiosity getting the best of him, Ron decided to go check it out. Silently, he walked out of Draco's room and walked down the hall. The wailing got more and more prominent until he was able to pinpoint which room it was coming from.

Carefully, Ron placed his ear against the door and listened as best he could. It was Narcissa on the other side of the door, and, by the sound of it, she was alone.

Ron did not hear much but he was able to hear some bits and pieces of her talking to herself between sobs, which went,

"…Oh Draco…please forgive your shamed mother…I was wrong to ever have doubted you…Please forgive my misgiven trust in that man, your father…"

Ron removed his ear from the door and stood in shock over what he had just heard. They've got the wrong man. They've got the wrong man!

"So Malfoy," Kingsley said as he and ten Aurors stood around the captive, wands fixed on him. "Any last words?"

It was cold and windy on the small island that was the most secure prison in the world. Shortly after Malfoy had come into Kingsley's possession, Kingsley had given the order to have him killed in Azkaban for the murder of Harry Potter.

The time was ten o'clock on the morning that he was to be killed. But this was no matter for Draco, who had come to accept the punishment for the crime he did not commit.

Draco, bound at the wrists and on his knees before his captors, looked Kingsley in the eyes. He saw the same hatred there that he had seen in Ron's eyes.

"Well?" Kingsley asked, getting impatient.

"Harry deserved everything that he got from me." Draco said, then immediately closed his eyes.

What Draco said was true, just not in the way that Kingsley believed.

Ron apparited immediately to the Ministry of Magic. It was nearly noon now, and the entrance hall was almost completely deserted. Everyone was already in their offices.

So much the better for Ron, who flat out ran as fast as he could down the halls and down stairs until he was in the Auror department. He found the head Auror's office and open the great metal door down to the basement. He ran down the stairs, looked hopefully to the cell and…

Draco wasn't there.

Not a soul was in sight down in the basement, but he was too hurried to notice if anyone was up in the Auror's department.

"Ron?" Hermione asked uncertainly from the top of the staircase. "Everything alright? What took you so long?"

His spirits rose quite a bit when he heard her voice. He smiled and ran up the stairs and gave her a swift hug. He pulled back quickly, but held on to her elbows as he asked hopefully, "Hermione, where is Draco?"

Hermione looked at him, puzzled. "He was sentenced to death and was put down about two hours ago-"

"No!" Ron exclaimed. He immediately fell to his knees and he began pulling at his ginger hair in agony. "No, they got the wrong man!" He sobbed. "They got the wrong man…"

"What are you talking about, Ron, it was definitely Draco. Plenty of witches and wizards examined the knife and concurred that it was his…"

"No," Ron interrupted. "They said it was Malfoy's…" He got up and sat at a nearby chair before the head Auror's desk and put his head in his arms. "He was just as innocent as he claimed to be and I didn't believe him…"

"Wait," Hermione exclaimed, taking the other chair right next to him. "Are you saying that Lucius killed Harry?"

Ron sighed. "Look, Hermione, I know that this is completely unexpected, but yes, that is exactly what I am saying. Lucius killed Harry and framed it on his son."

"B-but how do you know?" She was beginning to quiver.

"He was too accommodating. He held the evidence out for me to grab where he normally would have booted me out upon sight. He freely gave me access to evidence that would bring Draco down. But," Ron added, when he saw that Hermione looked ready to argue. "I've got real evidence too. I heard Narcissa sobbing. I heard her say that it was Lucius' fault. Bring her in for questioning if you don't believe me."

But Hermione didn't look skeptical anymore. "H-how could we be so rash…?"

"We let our hate of him blind us from the truth. But Hermione," He reached out and grabbed her hand, while giving her a reassuring smile. "Harry left us with a very valuable lesson. He left us with an ideal. He was humble and willing to trust the best in people. He was the best friend anyone could ask for. Yes, he time was cut short, but he will live on in us. He has shown us how to better our own lives."

Hermione looked up and, with a tear falling down her cheek, gave him a short smile. And in her eyes, he could see Harry, living on in her.

Two weeks from the day that Harry was killed was supposed to be the day that Ron and Hermione were to be wed. Instead, they were holding Harry and Draco's funeral on that day. Ron and Hermione got married two days after Harry's death and, though he was not there, they could feel him watching over them.

It had not taken them very long to decide that Harry would have wanted to be buried in Godric's Hollow with his parents. And, when asked, Narcissa had no complaint to Draco being buried there as well.

Lucius, as it turned out, began his getaway once he showed Ron to Draco's room. Ron was able to inform the rest of the Aurors quick enough, however, and Lucius was caught within days. He was given the life sentence in Azkaban because the Ministry banned executions after the Draco incident.

The farewell ceremony to Harry James Potter was quite large, to say the least. Witches and wizards from all over the world came to mourn the loss of their great hero. The nearby church wasn't even used as half the people would have to stand outside the doors and wouldn't be able to hear a thing.

Instead, rows upon rows of fold-out chairs had been placed on the grounds near the graveyard. They all faced the two coffins at the front. If you stood at one end, you wouldn't be able to see the other end, and, they predicted, every seat would be filled.

At around noon, people began to file in. Ron, Hermione and Ginny had been among the first ones there, and they stood at the gates of the church, waiting. But soon, people they knew began to arrive as well.

The first they recognized was the entire Weasley family. Molly walked up and hugged the three of them at once, and the tears came once more to her eyes. "Poor Harry…" She sobbed as she pulled away. She then grabbed on to Arthur as if she were holding on for dear life and they made their way to their seats. As it turned out, "Poor Harry…" was a popular greeting.

Bill followed and smiled meekly at them before following his parents. His face never quite recovered but he really didn't mind it anymore.

George followed and grimly nodded at the three while passing by. He had never really recovered from the loss of his brother. He kept the shop open and business was booming, but he never had the same merry, lighthearted personality as he did before.

Percy waved as he passed by. Out of all the Weasleys, he had changed the most after the war, but not in a bad way. He was now an undersecretary to the Minister himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

One by one, many faces passed by and gave the three their regards. Luna Lovegood and her father, Professor McGonagall, Seamus and Dean, Neville, Aberforth Dumbledore, Hagrid, Victor Krum, the Patil twins, just about every Hogwarts professor… The list goes on and on.

The three waited there until the amount of people arriving dwindled to a halt and everyone else had already taken their spots. As it turned out, there were not enough chairs and thus, they would have to stand. Not that it really mattered, none of the three planned on listening to the ceremony.

From the very back, they could just barely see the two wooden coffins, raised up on small marble pedestals, and a black-robed wizard standing between them. He was obviously speaking, with his arms moving all over the place, but even with his magically-enhanced voice, the sound did not carry far enough to reach them.

To his right, Ron could hear his sister sobbing. He began to rub her back in an attempt to soothe her, but that did not seem to do much, so he added some words,

"Ginny, please stop, Harry won't be gone until you stop believing he is here."

"But…he is gone…" She whispered.

"No, he's not Ginny, look around you. These are just some of the people that Harry touched in some way or another. He will continue to live on in them. And in you."

In the midst of that ceremony, Ginny gave a small smile. She was able to move on after that day, though she never did remarry. But she did give birth to Harry's son, whom she named after his father. Ron and Hermione themselves had one son and one daughter, named Albus and Ginny Weasley. Named after the two strongest people they knew; other than Harry, of course.

And though Harry would never come back, he will be remembered. His memory would be rooted in the ground for the rest of eternity, guarded by his watchful sentinel, Draco Malfoy.