Closed Court
The Incident
The room held nothing for the young Malfoy to pay attention to. The cold dark stone, the dim torches nor the walls of benches held any interest for the boy. He knew the height of the seats was so for intimidation but he couldn't bring himself to care - by no means was he frightened by what was in store for him; what scared him was the after, after the trial, where would he go from there… He was no longer safe at Hogwarts and he would die in Azkaban.
The Aurors pulled on each arm, directing him to the centre of the room towards an iron structure - a cage. He couldn't help but find it amusing that a group of people designed to hold the peace had what looked like a modified version of an Iron Maiden, a device that his father had had delivered to the manor, saying that 'Muggles only got torture right.' The man, holding Draco where the Dark Mark stood out against his ghostly pale skin, pointed his wand at the frame and a gate swung back. They were expecting a flinch or something from the boy and were unnerved by the distinct lack of aura around the boy, it were as if he were not there, as if he were just going through the motions, as if he were dead. The female Auror on his right pushed him into the cage, charming his shackles to attach to the rings in the floor and walls of his temporary prison before shrinking it to size.
Cold metal spikes pressed into his skin, not enough to break the surface but enough that if he moved too much in any direction, he would bleed. Draco rolled his head on his neck and turned his vacant expression on the Minister of Magic.
Scrimgeour flinched back as their eyes met; Draco's unblinking ones unnerved the older man and he cleared his throat before beginning.
"Malfoy trial of the thirtieth of March: attempted murder performed by Draco Lucius Malfoy, resident of Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire…"
Draco lost interest in the incompetent man's mutterings and continued his scan of the room. A crowd of redheaded persons had gathered as close to the doors as possible, he could see the bushy mane of the Granger girl at the centre of the sea of red. From where he stood, it was hard for him to keep his neck twisted to glare at the family but he could see the quiet sobbing that moved each of their shoulders. Only the twins and the father weren't crying. They sat still, staring at the cage he filled, glaring holes through the thick iron bands, wishing death upon those who had hurt their family. The blond resisted the urge to smirk at their pain. He was at once glad that his father was in Azkaban and his mother was too...busy...to attend.
"...Witness of Persecution: Harry James Potter."
Upon hearing the name of his enemy, the first signs of actual life, not just animation, left the accused.
"Fuck you Potter!" The boy snarled, pulling violently against his cuffs, a glare piercing the dark haired boy in the stalls and making him pale.
The man stood next to Draco hissed under his breath and he quickly slid his mask back on, his slip forgotten, standing to attention for the courts pleasure, head held high.
"Mister Malfoy is charged with the attempted murder of one Ronald Weasley and with causing grievous bodily harm to said victim. How do you plead?" The Minister asked, breaking the tension in the room.
The lawyer beside the accused, one Mr Charles Mistry - the best lawyer and one of the youngest in the UK - turned towards his charge before announcing to the court, "Not guilty."
The room exploded into chatter, the loudest being the redheads. They screamed about how the whole of Hogwarts had seen his actions, how he couldn't hide it with money. Nothing was stopping them. The Minister had to pound his gavel into the wood of the table several times before they quietened.
When the tone returned to a normal amount of twittering, Scrimgeour decided to start the trail, calling out to the first witness, "Harry James Potter to testify against."
Wizengamot was filled with murmurs as the famous teen stood.
"What happened on the morning of the incident?"
"We were leaving the hall, after breakfast, on our way to Potions. Malfoy was in front of us and Ron started talking to him."
"Talking to him?"
"Well, I suppose taunting would be a better description. Nothing that hadn't been said before by both sides and Malfoy just snapped. He jumped on him and started to punch the living-daylights out of Ron. We all froze, and just watched. It was horrible." He shuddered.
"What do you mean by 'taunting' Mr Potter?" Malfoy's lawyer asked.
"Well, it's no secret that we don't like Malfoy and he doesn't like us either. For years we've been at each other's throats, tossing insults like no tomorrow; it's normal for us. It'd be odd for it not to happen."
"Was Malfoy participating in the childish tirade of 'tossing insults' this year?"
Harry looked suitably chastised by being called 'childish' but continued on his take of events, "Not really, he was at the beginning of the year but he stopped. He wasn't really talking to anyone I don't think."
Mistry smirked, "And did Mister Malfoy ever get violent before this?"
"Well, he did break my nose on the train at the beginning of the year."
The elder man turned to glare at his ward but Draco didn't notice, just stared off into space, consumed by his thoughts.
"What was Ron's demeanour this term at Hogwarts, Mr Potter?"
"Well, the Burrow, the Weasley's home was attacked over the holiday as most of you probably know. He was understandably angry but he got over it. He was normal Ron. I suppose he got a bit more irate recently and his words to Malfoy did get harsher but nothing to warrant the pummelling he got."
"I have no more questions for Mister Potter."
Harry recognised the dismissal for what it was and returned to his seat.
"Who do you have to testify in defence of Mr Malfoy?"
"Mr Malfoy has willingly submitted several memories to the court for viewing."
"Have you watched them?"
"I viewed each one temporarily to verify their origin and one in full. They are mostly of the same subject, so I recommend the press leave the hall."
"Approach the bench!"
Mistry sighed, doing as the man ordered.
"Leave the hall? This is most irregular; they already have permission to be here." The Minister said, in a hushed tone that was more like a stage whisper.
"Scrimgeour. You do not want them here to watch. I requested a closed court for this reason."
"And what reason is that sir?" He scoffed.
"Protecting the victim, sir."
"And who do you mean by 'victim'?"
"Mr Weasley may be in a coma, Scrimgeour, but he is far from innocent."
"Answer the question! Who do you wish to protect?"
"Mister Malfoy."
The court room was once again filled with screams of rage.
"That's ridiculous, he's a Malfoy…"
"He's a bastard, he deserves whatever Ron dished out to him…"
"There is no way he is innocent…"
"My Ron would never hurt a soul…"
The gathered barely noticed as Malfoy shuddered as the words they said swirled round in his head, clawing at his brain, confirming suspicions he'd had before, he pushed himself backwards as if to get away.
"Quiet!" The Minister yelled, the Amplifying Charm helping him carry across the hall.
Attentions turned back to the prisoner and were surprised to see blood soaking into his once clean white shirt and dripping to the floor as Draco pressed himself back into the sharp metal, trembling, shaking his head against those thoughts, forcing down the urges to cry or vomit.
"Hey Draco, are you alright buddy?" Charles said softly, his face not betraying what he felt, "What they said isn't true. You didn't deserve it, not at all."
The Wizengamot and the rest of the spectators looked on in suspicion as the two looked to be conspiring.
The Minister banged his gavel again, "Anything said in this room is to be heard by all, sir."
The lawyer glared at the small man, his lip quivering as he fought not to snarl but spoke louder for the court.
"Draco, do you still want to go through with this?"
The blond closed his eyes and breathed heavily, attempting to calm himself down. He peeled himself off the spikes and nodded, sliding his mask back on, steeling himself against the next words - not noticing the sweat trickling off his brow.
"How can Malfoy be a victim?" Scrimgeour asked, struggling to steer the wayward trail back on track.
"My client was attacked multiple times through the last three months he was at Hogwarts."
"Attacked you say?"
"Yes."
The Minister almost growled in frustration as Mr Mistry didn't elaborate.
"Define attacked."
"He was attacked in a violent manner and in a sexual nature."
The gathered were silent, a horrified silence that made Malfoy jumpy, expecting someone to cry out 'Liar!'
"He was what?"
Malfoy's lawyer openly glared at the Minister, "Draco was tortured and raped, sir!"
The prisoner cast his eyes downwards, not wanting to look at the expressions of the court, knowing that they wouldn't believe it. Doing so, he missed the horrified expression on Potter and the confusion on the Weasleys.
The Minister of Magic coloured, flushed red, "Out!"
The journalists flinched at the tone as they scribbled down as many notes as possible, not wanting to leave such a page turning event. Rita Skeeter looked outraged as a pair of hands grabbed her arm and pulled her from her seat, dropping the parchment her charmed quill had been scribbling on.
"Get out. This is now a closed court."
Aurors flooded the room, escorting the stragglers out. A heavy wooden plank moved of its own accord, sliding into place over the door, baring the way for all; only a couple Aurors were left inside, the rest presumably guarded the door from outside.
Miss Bones spoke up for the first time, seamlessly taking over the interrogation, "These memories prove this claim?"
"Without doubt. I'd also like to enforce the Binding Magical Contract of this court room - that no one who leaves shall speak of what is contained in these memories."
"Why is this?"
"Some of these memories compromise the position of members of the Order. Without this contract, many lives would be endangered."
"Very well. Bring them closer." She motioned to the modified pensive at the top of a short flight of stairs, before pointing her wand to the ceiling, activating the bind.
Charles Mistry took over, addressing the whole court.
"Each of these memories are numbered in order. The first I will show you is not from Hogwarts, but before the year started…"
"Why?" The Minister interrupted.
The lawyer bit his lip as to not swear at the infuriating man and instead poured the first silvery liquid thread into the basin. Taping his wand against the stone, the entire court room plunged into the blond boy's memory.
Draco followed his mother into the dark room, oh so aware of how much he didn't want to be there. The crowd parted as if they were royalty but Draco knew that not to be the reason.
"Ah the Malfoy Heir at last." The man at the front hissed as they approached.
His mother bowed, her head almost resting on the hem of Voldemort's robe.
Draco stayed silent, standing slightly behind Narcissa, not wanting to make his predicament even worse.
"Do you know why I summoned you here, Malfoy?"
"No sir."
A quick blast of the Cruciatus sent him to his knees, nerves going haywire in the assault.
"You will kneel in my presence, Draco. You will also call me 'My Lord'."
Draco stayed silent and was once again shot full of pain, he bit through his lip trying not to scream.
"You will call me what?"
"My Lord." He gasped, through the blood welling in his mouth.
"Do you know why I summoned you here, Draco?"
"No my Lord."
"I am very disappointed by your family. Your father managed to get himself caught by the Ministry and now I need someone to fill his place and who better than his son?"
"What?" He breathed confused; his father had promised him that he would get his mark after he left Hogwarts, never before – now he had no time to figure a way out.
Pain splintered all up his sides as the madman heard his exclamation.
"I am giving you a task Malfoy. You should be honoured."
His face scrunched up in a mixture of pain and confusion.
"You are to kill Dumbledore and let our brethren gain access to the grounds. If you don't, I'll give you to Fenrir to do as he sees fit. If he turns you then you could become useful but if you fail, I will not care if he eats you."
Draco paled at that imagery, fully aware that the werewolf liked playing with his food before he ate it.
You-Know-Who grabbed hold of his arm, hauling him upright with ease. The clammy feel of the man's fingers on his flesh made his skin crawl. His finger nails dug in, blood welling up in the dimples he created as he placed his wand in the centre of Draco's arm.
The blond screamed. An unholy sound left him as fire coursed through his veins and focused to a point; the spot being where the Dark Lord had placed the tip of his wand. His eyes flickered as his vision wavered, before finally turning black.
"I fucking knew it!" A voice yelled from the Weasley's direction.
Draco focused on keeping calm aware that he was close to expelling the small contents of his stomach as he recalled the sheer agony of having the mark forced on to him.
"I always knew that Malfoy was no fucking good. A Death Eater what a fucking surprise. So what you thought you could take your stress out on my brother? You fucking bastard!" The youngest Weasley had stood at some point and started shouting.
The blond rolled his gaze over to her and looked at her blankly, hardly blinking. He almost smirked as the girl made eye contact and immediately flushed, halting her tirade almost instantly; he would have smirked, if he were feeling more human and less like a ghost. Ginny was swiftly pulled down by her mother and admonished for shouting in court.
Malfoy's lawyer looked over at his ward and waited for some form of consent before he put in the next memory.
Snow blanketed the ground in Hogsmead as the school populace made their way from shop to shop, trying to find Christmas presents for friends and family.
Draco couldn't find himself to care about the holiday this year. Instead, he focused on the task ahead. He was all too aware of how half-hearted his attempt was going to be. He pulled his cloak around himself tighter and walked towards the Three Broomsticks, snow melting in his shoes freezing his feet.
The atmosphere in the small pub would have made him smile, if he weren't a Malfoy or burdened with a ridiculously impossible task. He sat at the bar, flicking his wand discreetly, casting an Imperius on the landlady.
"Butterbeer please?" He asked, sliding the money on to the counter top to avoid suspicion and waited, sipping on the warm beverage.
Soon, a group of Gryffindor girls entered, patting snow out of their hair and putting their coats up on the hooks as they sent one of the group up to the bar to get the drinks. Once they were sorted, one girl split off to go to the ladies room.
It was time.
He sent the charmed landlady to follow her into the bathroom, slipping the package from his pocket into hers, ordering her to give it to the younger girl.
"You almost killed Katie!" Potter said stunned, "Why would you do that?"
"Was it your intention to harm Miss Bell?" Miss Bones interrupted.
"No." He stated coldly.
"Who did you intend on harming?"
"No one. It was supposed to go to Dumbledore, but I knew he would be able to feel the curse around it so he would have it destroyed before it was ever touched. I never intended to hurt anyone, just look like I was doing as he asked."
"Like we believe that!" Ginny screamed.
Draco ignored her and nodded to his friend his permission for the next memory.
"Sit down dear boy."
Dumbledore's office was cluttered and in such disarray that Draco was beginning to get claustrophobic just standing in the doorway. The panic that was building in his head as he walked through the room was overwhelming.
"What can I do for you, Mister Malfoy?" The Headmaster asked gently as he sat.
The urge to run was building but his mouth blurted out what he'd come to confess before he could think about it, "You-Know-Who told me to kill you."
Draco held his breathe as he awaited some kind of torture.
"Do you want to kill me?"
"Of course not! Do you honestly think I could?" He exclaimed surprised.
"Well, when Severus told me what you'd been tasked with I did wonder. And after what you did to Miss Bell…"
Malfoy stood, knocking his chair over, looking pale.
"You knew?!"
"Of course. You think I don't have spies within the Death Eaters?"
"You knew! You fucking knew! And you did nothing?! I have this fucking thing carved into my arm and you could have saved me?!" Parchments rolled off the desk as Draco slammed his palms down on its top, "I never wanted to hurt her, the package was supposed to go to you and you were supposed to feel it was hexed and destroy it! Bell was never supposed to touch the fucking necklace!"
"Language Mister Malfoy."
"Fuck you." He snarled - a wounded noise.
"I balanced what was needed for this war…"
"'What was needed'? You think you need a teenage Death Eater, that that's what this world needs? More killers? Why? Did you want me as a spy? Is that what you wanted? TELL ME!"
"Using your status as a Malfoy and a Death Eater would have been beneficial to the cause…"
"You wanted to use me? For how long? Did you want me to participate with the torturing? The killing? Would I have a line I can't cross that would jeopardise my cover? Would you tell your side that I was a spy...or would they try to kill me as the battle commences after I've risked my life for them? Would I be buried as a Death Eater or as a spy? Do you have any idea what it's like to risk everything, when you're not the one risking your life, when you're in this tower, protected by Hogwarts? You've signed my death certificate.
I will spy for your side as it's the right thing to do. I will do everything in my power to stop Him from winning because no one should have to live under him. But I will never follow you, I do not care for your welfare enough to save you."
The venom in Draco's voice alarmed Dumbledore and the shock was clear across his face.
"Will you tell you little followers that I'm spying for them?"
"No. It will protect your cover. And you shan't tell a soul either."
"They will kill me." Draco murmured, face screwed up in anticipation of pain.
A knock on the door swiped the look away, back to his usual cold facade.
"Enter."
A swish of a cloak announced Snape's presence.
"So he found out your plan for him."
The Headmaster ignored the man, dismissing Draco.
"No. Mister Malfoy, you will wish to stay," The blond nodded at his Godfather and moved to the side, letting the teacher closer to the desk, "Albus, I told you I needed to get Draco out before he got the Mark. I told you what the Dark Lord was planning and you said you would sort it out, you didn't. You just came up with something that would use less effort on your part and endanger a child you don't very much care for; if he kills you, he will be a pariah. He will be killed for that. If you are so suicidal that you want a kid to off you, I will do it…"
"That's your plan? To let me do as You-Know-Who wants? You want me to kill you? For what purpose?"
"To establish your place in the Inner Circle!"
"You're insane!" Draco snarled.
"You have to find a way to get the Death Eaters into the castle that is not suspicious to them. My job is to research a way to deflect the killing curse or a way to feign death. I am not asking you to kill me, Mister Malfoy, I am telling you to follow orders."
"You are not my master! I am merely a sacrifice for you and your cause but you don't get to tell me what to do. You will ask nicely or I shall do nothing, just continue making half-arsed attempts on your life until I succeed, regardless of your fucking plan," Draco walked to the door, before uttering one last sentence, "If you have something for me, you will tell Severus and he will give me the message. Good-day, Professor Snape."
The silence across the room was a pleasant difference to the reaction before.
"You're a spy?" Someone exclaimed from the Weasley's side of the hall.
"If you're a spy for Dumbledore, where is he?" The Minister asked, suspicion clear in his tone.
Draco chuckled, a creepy sound that chilled Scrimgeour, "You'll have to ask him that. As you can see, I don't exactly have a good rapport with that man."
It was the first day back from the break – 'holiday' presumes some kind of merriment but there had been none for him. There had been no Christmas that he'd celebrated; he hadn't even opened his presents yet, fully aware that most would be teaming with dark magic having been sent from the Inner Circle. Instead, he'd spent the whole break trying to fix the Vanishing Cupboard and attempting to catch up on missed school work.
He hadn't managed either so far, which was why he was pacing outside the Room of Requirements, waiting for the door to form. He was too focused on the door that had just appeared to notice the footsteps approaching him.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Draco fell forwards, stiff as a plank of wood, crushing his nose as it struck the floor first. Blood pooled around his face, trailing towards his mouth as he had trouble to not breathe it in.
"It's not often you are caught off guard, is it Malfoy?" Ron chuckled, rolling the boy over on to his back.
He grabbed a leg and pulled, shuffling them both through the shrinking doorway.
"You think you are so much better than us, don't you Malfoy?"
The room Ron had imagined was much different to the one Draco was used to. This was dark and cold, with chains hanging from the ceiling.
It was a dungeon. A jail.
"Do you know what your Death Eater pals did to my home on Christmas Day? …They burnt it to the ground! Now, I'm going to burn you."
The red-head leant over the motionless boy, grinning as he placed the tip of his wand to Draco's chest and watched as the soft white silk shirt caught alight. It burned quickly; the smouldering edges of what was left of the shirt seemed to sear itself onto his skin. He let out a muffled cry, trying to focus through the pain for a way to escape. Ron wasn't impressed, even though the flame had burnt off the top layer of his victim's skin.
Ron wanted more.
"That's not enough. I want to hear you scream."
Draco pressed his teeth to his lip in an attempt to hide his growing whimpers but he heard a clink of metal on metal before something cold engulfed his ankles and wrists, making him bite through his flesh in fear. His body un-tensed as the charm was lifted from his form, he tried to roll over in an attempt to escape but found his limbs bound.
"Why are you doing this? I had nothing to do with what happened to your family…" The blood now pooling in his mouth made speaking difficult but his attacker was close enough to decipher his words.
"I don't believe you!" Ron snarled, replacing his wand on his chest.
The scream that left the boy, as the fat under his skin caught fire, alerted the Weasley of just how affective his little spell modification was and he laughed. He laughed as the skin fried and blackened, he grinned as the blood boiled below the surface, seeping out and mixing with the charcoal black.
Draco's eyes rolled back in his head and everything was silent.
The Wizengamot were stunned at the volume of the screams that seemed to still echo around the room, even after the memory had run its course.
Draco chanced a look up; he focused his attention on his lawyer alone, still pressing down on the urge to throw up. The man's hand shook as he picked up the next phial of memory. The Weasley girl was uncharacteristically quiet; in fact, that side of the room was silent. He glanced over and saw their pale faces twisted in confusion, unable to connect the monster in the memory to their loving son, brother and friend.
Draco woke up in the Room of Requirements, his chest scorching in agony. The wound was seeping where flesh was visible, blood pooling slowly on top. The rest was black; skin burnt away leaving charred muscles and noticeably bare ribs.
He rolled over as his stomach churned, expelling the contents over the floor, body quaking. He winced as he made himself stand, trying to ignore the pain.
The room shifted, morphed around him, stopping at a white room. The sterile white floor absorbed the drops of blood as they landed; the pool of vomit had vanished with the previous room. A metal shelf appeared next to him as his knees buckled, a chair materialised under him, catching him swiftly.
The shelf lowered to just above his elbow. Rolls of bandage and tubs of burn salve lay on the ledge within arm's reach. Draco picked up one pot, being careful not to jostle his wounds. The stuff inside was thick and bright orange. He dug out a handful and carefully rubbed it on to his chest, being careful of not aggravating his wounds further.
A hiss left his mouth as the balm rapidly cooled his flesh, numbing the pain; he watched as the worst of his wounds stitched back together, the visible charred bones now covered with thin muscle.
For hours, Draco sat and watched his flesh heal, reapplying the cream every once and a while; now all that was left to mend was several layers of skin. He wrapped up his chest with the bandage and tried to find his wand.
"Accio wand!" He growled.
Only once the warm wood was safely gripped in his hand did he make a move to leave. The door opened just for the archway to lead him straight in front of Ron Weasley.
"Expelliarmus!"
"Stupefy!"
Draco's wand flew to his tormentor, his spell dwindling. Unable to think of another option, he pounced, propelling his fist into the redhead's face.
He was satisfied to hear the bone break under his hand.
Ron howled, cupping his hands over his broken nose, trying to stem the bleeding that had started. The blond advanced, ripping his wand out of the boy's hand and started to run.
A roar behind him had him moving faster. A flash of red flew past his head; he ducked through an empty corridor. Draco's legs burned with the exertion and his chest heaved, each breath stretching and breaking the thin line between healing and seeping wounds.
"Immobulus!"
Malfoy's body froze under him, mid-stride. He whimpered as Weasley approached, grumbling and swearing under his breath.
"Do you think that was funny Malfoy?"
He rounded the blond's unmoving form and looked into his eyes. Blood had hardened under his broken nose; the crimson had flowed over his lips and down his chin, it appeared to glue his mouth shut.
Ron peeled his lips apart in a snarl, "You think you're so fucking funny."
He punctuated his swear with a punch to the stomach before tearing Draco's wand from his grasp once again. White hot pain coursed through the blond's veins, he was suddenly thankful that the charm he was caught in made him unable to scream.
The monster ran his eyes along the blond's body. Black ink on Draco's arm caught his attention.
"What's this?"
He grabbed hold of the arm and pulled it away from his body. The Dark Mark was open to the world.
"I fucking knew it! You're nothing but Death Eater scum!"
He flicked his wand and Draco floated after him, through a doorway and into a deserted classroom. His body slammed into desk after desk as Ron directed him into the room, each bang jostling his wounds. Red seeped into his bandage, making his attacker smile.
"Those aren't healing too well, let me take a look."
The blond whimpered silently as Ron ran his wand down the fabric, a spell sliding through it with ease. More blood dribbled into the bandage as the charm cut through his sensitive flesh.
"Now that's not right." The redhead frowned.
He rummaged around in his pocket, pulling out a large glass jar filled with the familiar orange of burn-healing paste. He smeared the salve on to Draco's chest and watched as it was absorbed into the skin, knitting back the flesh as it sank in. The compassion both pleased and scared the blond - the swift emotional change confused him. Ron put on another layer of the potion before sprinkling some sort of dust on the cream.
The reaction was instantaneous. The freezing charm broke on Draco as his back arched violently and collapsed to the floor. His skin seemed to erode before his eyes, all the healing that had been done that day was reversed within seconds. The skin melted, exposing muscle that was soon attacked by whatever Ron had spread over his chest.
The blond screamed, rolling over on to his side curling up as if to protect himself from more damage. The volume of Draco's cries seemed to please the redhead as he watched the flesh erode.
"That's better!"
"My god. Those were Venomous Tentacular seeds; no wonder the salve had that kind of reaction!" Said some minor member of the court.
"But they are a class C – non-tradeable substance. Where would a sixth year boy get such a thing?"
"We were looking after the plants in Herbology." Potter choked.
Draco kept his eyes closed as the court erupted in discussion. His body trembled as he concentrated on keeping composure. Swallowing back bile that threatened to escape, the defendant tried to calm his mind. He had an urge to touch his scars but was thankful that his hands were still shackled. He could still feel the pain of his flesh melting, he flinched against the memory.
Eventually, he realised the court had gone silent and he opened his eyes.
"Draco, are you okay? We can take a break if you want?" Mistry asked, from his side, having come down from the pensive to check on his ward.
"Why?" He growled.
The older man cleared his throat, "Because you keep pressing yourself into the back of the cage. You're bleeding."
The boy dismissed the question, slidding forward, peeling his back off the cold iron spikes.
"Continue." He said coldly.
The lawyer nodded reluctantly and returned to the stone basin, dripping in the next memory.
Draco was strapped down on a table in yet another deserted classroom. This one was filled with a mountain of dust and disused instruments. The world outside the window was dark; flashes of lightning were all that lit the room. On each strike, you could see the state of Draco's chest, marked with scars and fresh wounds.
"Seeing you burn is not fun anymore." The redhead sulked.
Draco almost breathed a sigh of relief but then a flash of light made him see the glint in his torturer's eyes.
"Please don't." He pleaded.
"Do you Death Eaters listen to the people who beg you to stop, hmm? No, of course you don't. It's time you got a taste of your own medicine."
"CRUCIO!"
"Malfoy, I am so sorry."
Draco's head flicked round and faced The-Boy-Who-Lived.
"Fuck you, Potter!"
The venom in his voice surprised all those in court.
Harry opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the beginning of the next memory.
The room Draco was in was clearly his own. The clothes he had been wearing were strewn over the floor, his uniform flung over the back of a nice big green leather wingback chair. A full height mirror showed Malfoy the extent of the damage to his flesh. Pink scars covered the entirety of his chest; less covered his sides and back, but less was not much of an improvement. His perfect skin had been marred permanently for the first time in his life, destroyed so completely he could no longer move like he used to. No longer did the urge to play Quidditch take him, knowing that as seeker, his disfigurement would interfere and his teammates would want to know why...
He had tried to sooth his scaring but the healing salves had been useless after Weasley's addition. Each reacting in a different agonising way once he'd applied them.
Draco pulled a small bottle out of his desk and looked at the contents. Only half of the tiny vial was full. Only a few drops of dittany were left. He sighed and dropped a couple on the worst of the scarring, hoping that it would help, knowing that he'd have to buy more soon.
A voice yelled at him from behind and he froze, once again struck by the Body-Bind Curse, this time he fell backwards.
The air by his door seemed to shimmer as a person appeared in the doorway.
"No! You deserve to keep the scars!" Ron raged.
Draco gulped. There was something worse about him being attacked in his own room. He'd let his guard down and now he was paying for it.
"You're only a fucking Death Eater, you mean nothing! Obviously, I am going to have to teach you your place!"
The redhead stomped down on his victim's chest hard, smirking when the thin bones splintered under his foot. The pain broke the curse and his body curled up, trying to protect his chest from further harm. The pain was so all consuming that Draco didn't notice he was being lifted until the familiar softness of his bed brushed his cheek.
Within seconds, his wrists were bound and he was forced to watch as his tormentor, his torturer, picked up the bottle of dittany and threw it at the wall above his head.
The glass shattered, splintering off in all directions, most landing on the bed, some cut through the delicate skin on his chest and face. Blood beaded just above the surface of his face, just below his left eye. His chest wasn't so lucky to escape with a small cut. Several pieces had embedded themselves in his freshly healed scars, but the dittany left on the shards made the skin attempt to heal around the glass causing more blood and more pain.
Ron smirked at the sight.
"You deserve everything you get Malfoy." He spat.
He grabbed hold of the top of the blond boy's slacks and tore them down. Draco kicked with all his might, trying to keep the boy from getting any further.
"Stop! What are you doing?!"
"Please don't do this!"
The redhead ignored his pleas, instead waved his wand, stilling his prey's movements once again. He grabbed hold of his zipper and despatched all obstacles to his plan.
Ron tapped the boy with his wand and watched the fear and discomfort passed over the blond's face as he was stretched with a spell.
"You deserve this. You deserve this and more." He said softly, before thrusting into his tight little ass, breaking all fight he had left.
The scream that had left the boy had the entire court pale; it seemed to echo through the room and their minds.
Potter had stood at some point during the memory and was now staring open mouthed at where the two had been.
"He was using my cloak…" He whispered, his forehead furrowed in betrayal.
"Please speak up Mister Potter."
"He was using my Invisibility Cloak." Harry repeated, swallowing hard.
"You fucking bastard!" Draco murmured, his voice getting louder as he repeated the words over and over.
"I didn't know! I didn't know, Draco I promise you, I didn't know."
"You fucking liar." He whispered; a tear falling across his cheek as his composure cracked.
Harry sobbed, "I didn't know."
"You fucking saw what was happening to me and you did nothing!" He snarled, pulling against his chains as if trying to advance on him, not noticing his skin tearing under the metal.
"What?"
The surprise and disbelief in Potter's voice had Draco deflating, his anger diminishing. Potter had never been a good actor.
"Play the next one." He said his voice cracking.
Charles nodded and emptied the memory into the bowl.
Draco was sat clutching his knees to his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible as he hid in the Astronomy Tower. Broken sobs left his lips, no matter how much he tried to smother them.
"Malfoy!"
He scrambled upright, wand pointed at the stairs as a redhead made his way closer to his hiding place.
"I know you're in here!"
Malfoy held his breath as he got closer; praying to whomever was listening that he not get caught. A whimper left his lips and his eyes widened as the footsteps stopped.
"There you are bitch!"
The cupboard doors swung open and he was dragged out, his wand wrenched from his grip by the bigger boy.
"Have you been hiding from me whore?"
Draco flinched at the word, trying to pry himself out of the Weasley's grip.
"Get off of me!"
Ron pulled back his free arm and punched him hard. The blond boy collapsed to the floor, his head ringing. He barely noticed as his attacker rolled him over and then vanished his clothes.
Draco screeched as Weasley entered him, this time with no preparation. Everything was tearing. He clawed at Ron as the pain increased, his nails sliding through skin but his rapist didn't seem to care.
"You deserve this. You're just a dirty fucking whore. This is all you'll ever be good for!"
The screams seemed never ending until his throat was raw, and he could only let out a broken kind of keening.
"Ron?" A voice said, shock infusing the tone.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked in disbelief.
"Save me!" Draco mouthed in his direction.
"Oh my god!" The newcomer spun on his heel and fled.
The broken Malfoy let out a sob as Weasel finished inside him and pulled out.
"You deserve everything you get. Harry is never going to help you, he hates you."
Ron stood up and spat on his victim's bleeding body before following his friend through the door.
The court room was once again filled with silence, except this time their attentions were on Potter. The boy they were all staring at looked beyond pale and he was shaking.
"I didn't know. I don't remember. I didn't know." He mumbled, looking at the floor as he ran his hands through his hair, agitated.
Draco's eyes seemed to pierce Harry's skin as he glared at the Boy-Who-Turned-His-Back.
"I didn't know! Malfoy...Draco, I don't remember that. I promise you that wasn't me! I'll take Veritaserum or anything if I have to prove it you but that wasn't me!" He cried as he looked up and made eye contact with the boy.
Scrimgeour scowled at the mess of a trial before him, "Will you concede to Legilimency?"
The Boy-Who-Hadn't-Helped nodded frantically at the question.
The Minister motioned to a member of court who stood and made his way to the quaking boy.
"This might hurt." The woman said.
After a few moments of silence, Harry sank to his knees shaking more than before.
The Legilimens spoke to the court, "It appears Mr Weasley attempted to wipe his memory of this event, but he didn't succeed fully. The memory was locked away."
Draco flinched, trying to come to terms with his misplaced hatred.
"Draco, I am so sorry." Potter gasped.
The blond boy closed his eyes and drew himself straight.
"It's okay, Potter, wasn't your fault." He said his voice hard.
"Is it possible for the court to see this memory?"
The dark-haired boy nodded, saying the incantation whilst pressing the tip of his wand to his temple.
The air around the boy seemed to shimmer as he stalked the castle. The cold night made the corridors seem even colder than usual; Harry pulled his cloak around himself closer, burying his hands in the fur lining.
A flash of red around a corner had his attention, he ran towards where he'd seen the colour disappear and saw his friend striding with a purpose.
"Ron!" He called out.
The boy didn't even flinch, just continued on his way. Potter growled and tore off his invisibility cloak, the strange shimmer vanishing.
"Ron, where are you going?"
The Weasley turned around yet another corner, leaving Harry to jog to catch up. But this time when he reached the end of the wall, his friend wasn't in sight.
He let out a sigh and continued his walk of the castle, putting Ron's strange behaviour out of his mind. His wander led him to one of the courtyards. Not wanting to go back to the common room, he sat on the grass and watched the stars. The big dipper, the north star and Hercules were the only ones he could identify confidently, but he took pleasure in joining up the little white dots to make new pictures in the sky.
A loud screech had Potter jumping into a crouch, wand out, ready for attack. The sound came again, this time he was able to get his bearings and head towards it. Harry followed the horrible sound back into the castle; he rushed through the corridors flinching at the pain in the voice, hoping against all hope that it was just Peeves playing a terrible prank.
The screams lessened but Harry had a horrible feeling that that did not mean the end of the agony they were clearly in. The whimpering that followed seemed worse; he picked up the pace, breaking into a sprint.
The cries guided him to the staircase leading to the Astronomy Tower. He quickly ran up them, stalling at the words he heard on the other side of the door.
"You deserve this. You're just Death Eater scum."
He frowned at the words and pushed open the door.
What greeted him was the least of his expectations. His friend's pale arse seemed to glow in the darkness, Harry cringed away from the sight until he realised what he was really seeing. His friend thrusting into someone:
- Not his girlfriend.
- Not willing.
- In so much pain.
"Ron?" He asked confused, "What are you doing?"
The crying stopped as the person rolled his head over to look as him - a horrified anguished expression making his stomach drop to the floor. Harry stepped back in shock as he recognised the victim of his friend's...…Ron's perversions.
"Malfoy?!"
"Save me!" Draco mouthed, his face screwed up in agony.
"Oh my god!"
Harry ran. Pushing himself as fast as possible as he charged towards the Great Hall, veering off down a corridor as he changed his destination. Footsteps pounded behind him, getting closer.
He slid to a halt outside Dumbledore's office and started spouting names of sweets as quickly as his lips could form the words.
"Bonbons…"
"Mars bars…"
"Snickers..."
"Haribos. Jelly Babies. Liquorice Allsorts…"
"Lovehearts, Parma Violets, Flying Saucers, Wine Gums, Drumsticks, Fruit Pastilles, Starburst, Blackpool Rock, Humbugs, Black Jacks, Polos, Fruit Salad…"
Harry continued his frantic mutterings to the guardian gargoyle until he heard Weasley approach. He stopped and turned to the advancing redhead.
"What are you doing Harry?"
"I could ask you the same thing." He scowled.
Ron rolled his eyes, "Are you going to Dumbledore about this?"
"Of course I am!"
"Why? He deserves it!"
"How could he possibly deserve that? No one deserves that!" Harry yelled exasperated.
"He's a Death Eater! His family burnt my house down. Can you imagine the depraved acts he and his family do behind closed doors with You-Know-Who?"
"Is that what this is about? You are torturing him for something his aunt did? For something you have no proof he actually attended?"
"I have proof! I saw his Mark!"
"Was that before or after you raped him?! That is not proof of guilt, just having the Mark."
"He deserves it!"
"I don't know who you are anymore...…you deserve to be in Azkaban!"
He turned and began walking away, attempting to find some other form of authority to tell, Professor McGonagall perhaps.
"Harry stop!"
"No! You don't get to tell me what to do. What you have done is wrong, beyond wrong, you should be in Azkaban, you're sick."
"Stop moving Potter."
He swung round, a snarl on his face, "What?!"
Harry flinched back as he found a wand right between his eyes.
"Obliviate!"
The court sat in stunned silence. The act had not been any less horrifying from another point of view. The fact that a close friend of Potter's had cursed him to forget was simply unbelievable, but no one would discount a memory from the Boy-Who-Lived.
"Thank you for trying Potter." Draco croaked, his eyes not leaving the floor.
"Fat lot of good it did you." The boy growled self-deprecatingly.
The blond puffed air through his nose in amusement before muttering, "At least you tried. I didn't. I didn't think anyone would have believed me."
Mr Mistry frowned at that statement but didn't voice his thoughts.
"Skip the next one." Malfoy said, his voice marginally stronger than before.
"Why? What's in the next one?" Bones asked gently.
"I had a fight with Potter; we inflicted some pretty good damage on each other. It is irrelevant to the court now that I know he had his memory wiped."
"Harry tells me he almost killed you. Well, come on let's see it."
Draco didn't flinch when his tormentor's voice suddenly emerged beside his ear. He had been sat in the Astronomy Tower, perched on the railing, his feet dangling over the edge. The view and the sheer forty meter drop beneath his toes were almost comforting. He'd given up hiding away from the redhead, knowing that nowhere was safe.
He looked down again, ignoring the boy who was slowly undoing his shirt buttons. The soft little brushes of skin against skin made Draco shudder, bile once again rising in his throat. He shook slightly as he felt Weasley's warm breath on his neck.
"Get off of me!"
Ron slid his fingertips across the blond's shoulder, brushing his collarbone and finally resting across Draco's throat.
"Get the fuck off me!"
"No."
The hand across his throat tightened, the fingertips digging in hard to his flesh, pushing hard against his windpipe. Malfoy struggled to stay calm as his breathing was forcefully altered. His head began to spin; the lightheaded feeling would have had him swaying, had Weasley not had such a firm grip on him.
Unable to think of a way out, Draco flicked his head back hard, hoping against hope that the man's head was behind his. The pain that spread across the back of his head confirmed his suspicions, the loud swear more so.
Ron spun him round, catching him as he wobbled on the railing. He returned his hand to its place over the blond's throat, squeezing again. Draco gripped hold of his attacker's arm, attempting to pull it away from his neck.
The youngest male Weasley had a look in his eyes that frightened him.
"I told you before, that if you ever did something like that I'd make your life hell."
"My life is already hell, there's nothing more you can do. To do anything worse you'd have to kill me!" Draco spat.
Ron chuckled, "Oh I'm not going to kill you."
He dragged the smaller boy off the tower's edge and threw him towards the centre of the room.
"Imperio."
Draco could feel the tell-tell clouding of his brain, his body felt limp beneath him - no longer in control.
'Kneel.'
He tried to fight against the urge to do as he was told but the compulsion in the curse had him getting to his knees.
'Show me what Harry did.'
The crisp white shirt hit the floor, Draco's eyes never left Ron's, not even when a soft groan parted Ron's lips. The taller boy advanced, brushing his fingers over the new scars.
"I told you he hated you."
'Undo my zip and open your mouth…'
The memory flickered between black and image before ending so abruptly several members of the court gasped.
"Mr Mistry, what just happened?" Madam Bones exclaimed.
The lawyer floundered for a second, "I don't know."
"Is the memory damaged in some way?"
"No, I checked them all myself, none of them had been tampered with in any way…" Charlie looked into the basin and frowned, "The memory, it's turned black."
"Black?"
"Wait, it is back to normal. Draco? Did you do something to the memory? Draco?"
Attentions turned back to the blond and were horrified to see the boy slumped in his cell, head almost to chest; the metal spikes being the only thing keeping him upright.
"Fuck! Draco!"
Mistry rushed to his ward's side.
"Mate?"
Draco's eyes were open but blank, his lips were quivering, repeating words over and over again. Charles slipped his hand through the bars and squeezed his friend's shoulder. The boy jumped up, almost alert, and pushed himself further back into the metal frame, escaping the touch.
"Draco, mate, it's okay. You're okay. You're safe."
The court kept silent as they waited for their prisoner to calm.
"I'm not safe - I'm in a cage," He shuddered, his voice small, "Charlie, don't make me watch this. I can't take much more, don't make me watch."
"Mister Malfoy, I have to apologise. We never considered what these memories would do to you," Madam Bones spoke softly, regret clear in her tone, "If you would be so kind, Auror Roberts, please stand in front of Malfoy and make sure his attention is on you."
The female Auror by Draco's side slid into position, blocking his view of his memory. Slowly, he stopped shaking, forcing himself to focus on the woman in front of him. She was tall, blonde and beautiful; could easily have been a member of his family. It was comforting to make himself believe she was related to him, inferring to himself that he had some support here.
The memory started from where it left off, except this time, it was tinted grey and had no sound. Instead, the speech was printed on the image.
The Unforgivable guided his actions, making him little more than a soft-flesh puppet. His tongue slid against the obstruction in his mouth, eliciting a pleasured groan from his attacker. He did it again, this time moving his head back and forth at the same time, feeling Weasley start to shake.
A hand buried itself in Draco's hair, pulling hard. His lips grew slack and Ron withdrew, a self-satisfied smile carved onto his face. He leant forward, licking the traces of his essence from the blond's lips, before setting a hard kiss against them. The curse twisted his want to escape to wanting to reciprocate - he kissed back, all tongues and teeth.
His attacker smirked into the kiss, letting his mouth be pillaged by Malfoy's traitorous tongue. He tore away after forgetting to breathe, he pushed his prey back hard, watching as he collided with the floor and groaned. Ron replied with a moan of his own as he advanced, kneeling between forced apart legs. The redhead's eyes fluttered as he vanished the remaining clothes, relishing the touch of cool air against his skin.
"You're mine." He growled as he sunk his teeth into Draco's chest, making the boy whimper. Once satisfied with the mark he knew would appear, he licked the area, soothing the burn.
He pulled his victim on to his lap, tapping the paler boy's hip with his wand before he thrust in, swift and hard. The pain Draco knew of that action never came, instead, a pleasant feeling emanated across his body, contrasting the churning in his stomach. Again Weasley moved; this time a deep moan left the blond.
He knew that it was the curse making him enjoy it but it didn't help, hearing his body betray him so completely.
Ron slowly relinquished his hold on his victim's mind, letting Draco have back the control over his body. He propelled a fist towards the other man's face, throwing the other one when the first was intercepted. Weasley caught them both in one hand and forced them above the blond's head.
"Get off me!"
"Please!"
"Please stop!"
"You know you don't want me to." He said, his voice soft.
Ron grabbed hold of Draco's dick and stroked slowly.
"Please don't…"
The man ignored his pleas and continued his ministrations 'til his victim moaned of his own volition. He writhed and groaned, pleasure being the only thing clouding his mind as tears ran down his face. He cried out in completion as his stomach rolled, bile rising in his throat.
A few grunts later and Draco's attacker pulled-out and collapsed were he lay, falling asleep almost as soon as his head touched the floor. He shuffled back towards the railing - shaking, silently wailing - looking out at the world below. Nothing had changed. The Earth continued to spin as he was tortured. His insignificant existence did nothing to stop the world, even for a moment. Ron's existence had killed his; ground his world into dust that floated away on the wind.
Malfoy stood, shaky legs barely managing to hold his weight as he sat on the railing, assuming his position from before - his feet dangling over the edge, sheer forty meter drop beneath his toes. Wandlessly he summoned his clothes, not wanting to be found naked. He closed his eyes as his cotton shirt brushed against the mark Ron had left embedded in his skin. He shook but not because of the cold wind tugging at his toes.
Draco rocked, backwards and forwards, mouth open in a silent scream. He needed to be away from here, away from the pain and the memories. He needed to leave.
And he pushed forwards.
And he was floating.
And he was falling.
And he was no longer screaming.
He closed his eyes and knew he wouldn't be waiting long.
The Auror in front of Draco moved to the side, diverting his attention back to the proceedings.
"You jumped off the Astronomy Tower?" The Minister asked in surprise.
The court waited in bated breath for the answer.
"Was that not obvious from my memory?" He replied coldly, aware that he was shaking.
Bones took back the reigns of the investigation, "How is it you come to be standing before us Mister Malfoy?"
"When I opened my eyes I was back on that tower. He was standing above me."
The Minister interrupted again, "So he saved your life?"
"That bastard did not save my life, merely prolonged it." He spat, turning his gaze back to his lawyer who took the hint and poured the last memory in to the basin.
Roberts went to move back in front of Malfoy but stayed still when he shook his head, wanting to see the damage he inflicted on his tormentor.
The Draco in this memory looked beyond broken. His skin was paler than ever before and there were dark circles under his eyes. He seemed to be folded in on himself, protecting himself from the hustle and bustle of the Great Hall. Every time he moved he flinched; when someone wandered close to him, he also flinched...
He nibbled on a slice of toast and made the mistake of looking across the hall.
The Golden Trio were all happy, laughing amongst themselves, seemingly unaware of the horrors of the world. Draco scowled and looked away, not wanting to see more of the redhead or his friend, the so-called saviour - not as his stomach churned at the little caring touches they gave each other.
It had been months since he had first forced himself on Draco; months of trying to hide and Ron always finding him, no matter what. He was sick of being scared.
He wasn't hungry anymore...not that he had been before, but he placed the barely eaten slice of plain toast back on his side plate and stared at the table top.
A hand patted him on the shoulder and he recoiled away from it, but noticed the hall emptying for class. Draco was due at potions in five minutes if the clock on the wall was correct. He stood and made his way out, leaving his breakfast where it lay on the table; not wrapping his leftovers in a napkin and slipping it into his bag for a quiet moment in class like so many other students.
The corridor was filled with teens, each knew the direction they needed to go and they went with the flow. Draco followed his fellow classmates, keeping to the side, out of the way and hopefully out of sight.
"Look who we have here, it's You-Know-Who's bitch!" A voice he recognised instantly called out.
He flinched away from the words but made himself continue, to look like he wasn't affected.
"When you got the mark did you squeal like a little girl?"
One foot in front of the other, Malfoy focused on walking.
"No one want's you here."
He was aware he had slowed but he still crept forward.
"No on want's you here Malfoy. Everyone knows you're just He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's whore…"
Draco's dull eyes lit up in fury and he pounced, knocking the taller boy to the floor. Over and over and over again, he pushed his fist through the boy's nose, not caring when his face turned into a bloodied mush.
Everyone looked on in astonishment as the usually collected boy snapped and silently pummelled the redhead into unconsciousness and kept going.
Potter started for the duo but a well-aimed Stupefy shot him backwards away from the frenzy. Someone screamed, an ear-splitting sound tearing everyone out of their shock as they attempted to save their friend.
Each person who touched the blond was soon pulling their hands back as a jolt of pain moved up their arms.
"What on earth is going on…?" McGonagall started, gasping when she saw the bloody mass and the boy above him.
"Incarcerous!"
Ropes snaked up Malfoy's body, starting at his feet tying them together, restricting his movements before slowly snaking up the rest of his body.
"No! Get them off me!" He screamed, pulling at the cords as they trapped him.
A pulse of magic had the ropes retreating, hiding away from the strength shown.
"Merlin Above!" The professor gasped, "Expelliarmus!"
The bolt of light hit Draco square in the chest, throwing him off the body, his head collided with the floor.
The last thing he saw was teachers crowding around his torturer, trying to save his life.
"That must have been wild magic! You know this has to be regulated. And you can't just let this Death Eater go, regardless of what's been inflicted upon him. It wouldn't be right..."
Madam Bones tapped her wand on the rim of her glass and a loud but delicate tinkle reverberated around the room.
"Mr Malfoy did not go through the initiation willingly, as you could see. Only those forced, go through so much pain – He has also expressed his views and desires concerning the Dark Lord, and has become a spy for us. But regardless, Young Mister Malfoy is not on trial for having a tattoo or losing control of his magic! May I remind the court, he is here for attacking Mr Weasley. We are here to determine whether or not Malfoy is innocent! Now, if you are quite done, I'd like to continue questioning Mr Malfoy...My apologies Draco, how did Mr Weasley find you?"
"I don't know. I tried everything to hide but he always seemed to find me…even in my dorms. I should have been safe there but I wasn't." Draco stated quietly, his shaking growing.
"When you attacked him, what were you thinking?"
"I wanted him to stop. I wanted him to know pain. I wanted him to leave me alone."
"We would like to have a healer examine you and see the extent of the damage - If that's okay with you, Mr Malfoy?"
He paused debating the question, softly he said, "Will they have to touch me?"
Madame Bones answered, pity clear in her tone, "No, it can all be done with a wand."
"Okay."
A member of the Wizengamot stepped forward, brandishing his wand. Draco retreated away from the healer and whimpered as the man pointed the ornate stick at him. A cold flush passed over his body as the charm filtered through his skin.
The man drew in a deep breath as he saw the results of his charm, eyes widening in shock.
"Mr Malfoy has extensive scaring over his chest and sides that should have killed him. It appears that it's had to be healed the muggle way as any burn salve added to the wound would exacerbate the damage, am I right?"
Draco nodded stiffly.
"That must have been excruciating!"
He nodded again, suppressing a shiver that wanted to make its way up his spine as he remembered the agony he had been in for several weeks.
"There are a couple hairline fractures on his ribs and wrist; and his nose hasn't healed properly, it'll have to be re-broken. The shackles are not helping his healing, in fact it's making it worse, there is a lot of torn skin around them, also the wounds on his back from the cage will need healing before they become infected. Mr Malfoy's throat is raw, he shouldn't strictly be speaking or he may lose its use, if not healed soon. He also has some internal damage that hasn't healed from the assault, plus some additional scaring. If he were a patient of mine, I'd say he needed a couple days bed rest, at least, as his physical wounds heal…"
"'Physical wounds'?"
"Yes. He will also have mental wounds. He might develop PTSD…"
"Isn't that a muggle affliction?" The Minister interrupted.
The healer scowled, "That is a common misconception that only muggles are affected by mental health issues like Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Many wizards get it after experiencing a seriously traumatic event, like war, witnessing a murder, being in an accident, being attacked..."
"That everything?"
"No. I recommend Mr Malfoy is healed as soon as he leaves this room, regardless of his sentence."
"Agreed." Bones replied, gesturing to the man to return to his seat.
"Alright. All those in favour of a not guilty verdict?" Scrimgeour asked.
Draco didn't watch as hands rose, too focused on keeping the bile, which was slowly creeping up his throat, down.
"All those in favour of a guilty verdict?"
Again, Draco kept his eyes to the floor.
"Mr Malfoy, it is the opinion of the Wizengamot that you are innocent of all charges. However, if it is found that you lied about acting as a spy for the cause, you will be back here and you shan't be going free. We will be seeing Mr Weasley in court as soon as he wakes up…"
The blond had stopped listening, sagging as the cage around him was vanished along with his shackles. He let out a sob as he collapsed to his knees, bringing his arms round to cradle his chest.
They believed him. He was free.
A.N. - Sorry that this is so dark, but there is a possibility of a lighter sequel at some point, so tell me if you would like an update!
Thanks for reading!