Disclaimer: It's not mine.
Interlude: Draco Malfoy
"Mother! I will not let you do this. Potter is not going to understand. He would never do this for us. Why won't you listen to me?"
"Draco, dear, I have my reasons for sending this letter. I wish you would trust me on this," she sighed loudly. This wasn't the first time they had this fight. It had been only a few weeks since the Dark Lord had been vanquished. They had been arguing about this three times a day for an entire week. Since they had gotten the summons from the Wizengamot.
-_- One week earlier-_-
Britain Ministry of Magic Wizengamot Summons
Plaintiff: Britain
Defendant: Draco Malfoy
The above mentioned defendants are hereby summoned to appear at the Britain Ministry of Magic for a court hearing on June the 20th. You will be assigned a barrister to defend you for the crimes listed below.
Being a Death Eater.
Harboring fellow Death Eaters in your home.
Attempted Murder of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore on June the 7th, 1997.
Assisting in the Kidnapping of Luna Lovegood off the Hogwarts Express on December the 20th, 1997.
Torture of Muggles, Muggle-borns, and Half-bloods.
Assisting in the Attempted Murder of Harry James Potter, Ronald Bilius Weasley, and Hermione Jane Granger in the Room of Requirement on May the 1st, 1998.
Fighting in the battle of Hogwarts on the Dark Lord Voldemort's side on May the 1st to the 2nd, 1998.
The defendant will be charged officially on August the 3rd, 1998. If the defendant fails to appear in court, the defendant will be found guilty of all charges and judgment will be made despite the defendants absence.
Sincerely,
Kingsley Shacklebolt
Interim Minister for Magic
Head Wizengamot Member
Head Auror
-_-Present times-_-
"He'll never do it. He hates me as much as I hate him. It's been this way since our first year train ride to school. He will never, ever, do this!" Draco shouted slowly as if speaking to a child.
"Draco, I am not discussing it anymore. You will stop whining, and do as you are told. Now, leave me. I have a letter to write," Narcissa spoke nonchalantly.
"How can you degrade the Malfoy name this way? A true Malfoy would never ask this of our enemy! What if he brings the letter to the Prophet? We'll be a laughing stock in all of Britain! We'll be—" Narcissa interrupted his rant with a glare and a shout.
"Draco! I will not be spoken to like this! I am your mother, you will respect me. I said I was going to write this and no one, not even my own son, will stop me. You say we'll be a laughing stock? We already are, Draco. Look around, we have lost everything! The whole wizarding world is pointing their wands at us and laughing. We are no longer the upstanding citizens we once were. We have no dignity left, so what does it matter if I ask for help? I am NOT letting my only son ROT in prison like his IDIOT FATHER! I will do anything, ANYTHING, to keep you out of prison. I have done wrong with you since your early childhood when I let your father take over your schooling. I will not let it happen again. Do you understand?" Draco mumbled while he glared her way.
"I said, do you understand?" she repeated.
"Yes. I understand perfectly mother. If you need me, I'll be in my room. Good day," he said as he turned and attempted to leave with a little decorum.
"Draco, I love you. I don't want to see you suffer the mistakes of your parents. We were both idiots, and I'm sorry. I hope some day, you'll be able to forgive us." Draco had stopped and listened to what she had to say but continued walking away without commenting on her sentiment. Narcissa sighed and wiped away a tear that escaped.
"Oh Draco, my child. What did he do to you? You used to be so sweet and kind," she whispered. Unbeknownst to her Draco had stopped outside the door and stood fuming. He was about to return with a new argument when he heard his mother's whisper and it stopped him in his tracks. It shocked him to hear her talk about the past. Usually she and his father forbid talk like that. It supposedly caused them to live in the past and forget the present and future.
Blast! Why does she insist we beg for help? I just don't understand it, Draco thought to himself. He remembered the times she spoke about. When he was innocent and young, and when he played with his father's albino peacocks in the vast grounds. He remembered his mother singing him softly to sleep and waking up to her smiling face, eager to start a day of fun and excitement.
That all stopped when Father decided to start teaching Draco the importance of blood, political standing, and money. At the mere age of six Draco began his lessons in blood purity and memorizing the upstanding pureblood family trees. At seven, he was taught Political Science and what a dunce Cornelius Fudge was. At age eight, he was taught about the wizarding world and more blood standing lies.
This education continued until he left for Hogwarts. He hated to admit that despite the hateful topics he was being taught, he valued these times because it was the only times his father would spend time with him and treat him like a son and not a distant relative spending time at the manor. He was reluctant to agree with his father's beliefs even at such a young age, but strived for his daddy's approval so he kept his nose the grindstone and learned all the rubbish, memorized all the rubbish spewed to him just for the pat on his shoulder and the 'Good job, son,' he just wanted to hear once. Just once.
Draco turned a bitter shoulder and walked away angrily wiping the tears he fought with all his might. Maybe mother has a point. Maybe Potter might help. His sickening nobility just might come in handy. I vow that if I can remain out of prison, I'll turn another leaf. I will change the way the world sees the Malfoy name, he thought determinedly.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. Just a quick little interlude. I'll try a few more later also.
Here's where I ask my faithful readers a little, teensy favor. I am stuck on a part in my newest chapter I'm writing (17) and I would like your help. Not so much a poll as a who ever gives the best idea.
Why would Harry and Ron be under a table together, having a conversation that isn't really important? They don't want to tell anyone why they were under there, and really don't want anyone to find out and I need help to know why. Here's a little preview to get your creative juices flowing.
-_-
Ginny sped down the stairs and into the formal dining room. She marveled at how little the guys had gotten done in the three hours they had been working.
"Harry," she heard her brother start talking from under the table. What in the name of Merlin is he doing under there? Ginny thought. "Do you think Hermione has been acting a little weird this morning? She barely would make eye contact with me this morning at breakfast, and then she split us all up." Hmm, he may not be as dumb as I thought, Ginny mused.
"Nah, I think she's just anxious to get home," Harry's voice rose out from under the table as well. Harry's under there too?! What the hell is going on?
"What the bloody hell are you two doing under the table?" She heard two loud thuds and saw the large dark maple table bump twice just a little.
-_-
So send me a review or a private message with your idea of why they were under the table, please, and use lots of details! Please also keep it somewhat clean and really funny. I'm anxious to see what some people can come up with! Thank you!