****Hi guys! I'm so sorry it's taken me such an obscenely long time to update – starting senior year takes up time. I hope you enjoy this chapter, PLEASE read and review! Creds to JK.****
The doors swung open to reveal the full courtroom. Hushed voices were murmuring excitedly, a hum of noise reverberating around the benches. Griselda Marchbanks, recently instated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, sat loftily in her raised chair on the far side of the room. The jury was perched stiffly and silently around Marchbanks, waiting for the commencement of the trial.
I walked towards Pansy, haughtily presided in her own chair of smooth mahogany on the left of Marchbanks, my gaze strictly fixed upon her insolent face. I was determined to avoid the pressing glare from Malfoy, positioned on the Chief's right, which had pursued me across the courtroom. Pansy gave a short nod as I sat down next to her. Simultaneously, we glanced towards the chair in the centre of the room, chains dangling ominously from the arms.
"Everything will be perfectly alright." I assured her.
She merely nodded again, refraining from speech.
I chanced a peek at Malfoy. He was still looking towards me, fixedly, his grey eyes glinting with emotion I had never seen there before.
Genuine fear.
I quickly turned away, his evident distress too confronting for the present.
What had happened to his arrogance? His swagger?
My contemplations were interrupted as Marchbanks cleared her throat.
"Members of the Wizengamot, representatives from the Ministry, those in question, and spectators, today we have gathered to determine whether the case, filed by Miss Pansy Parkinson, against Mr Draco Malfoy, will go to trial. If the plaintiff could present their case."
I rose from my seat, beckoning Pansy to accompany me to the centre of the room. She sat down uneasily onto the chair, but the chains merely clinked feebly, stirred by her touch.
"Pansy Parkinson walked into her and Mr Malfoy's shared home, five weeks ago, to uncover a truly alarming discovery. Walking through their manor home, she noticed a previously unknown switch on their fireplace mantel…"
I continued to explain the circumstance of Pansy's revelation, the well-rehearsed words flowing effortlessly from my tongue.
Throughout my testimony Draco's eyes never left my pacing figure, his piercing gaze ever-present in my peripheral vision.
It felt as though he was wordlessly pleading for me to stop, the fear emanating from him like tar, sticking to my shoes and holding me fast, regardless of my feigned ignorance.
"Thank you, Hermione. Pansy, do you confirm the events described?" Marchbanks peered inquiringly down at Pansy.
"Yes, I do."
"You confirm that Dean Thomas was found in Mr Malfoy's hidden cellar room, the night prior to Mr Thomas's death?"
"Yes."
"Do you also agree that Mr Malfoy struck you on the face upon your discovery of the room and the boy within?
"Yes, I do." Pansy's voice cracked as she uttered the words, looking down at the floor.
"Thank you Miss Parkinson that is all."
Pansy rose from the chair and I guided her back to our seats, in silence.
"Can the defendant please present their case? Mr Malfoy, I've been informed you are representing yourself, is this correct?"
Malfoy cleared his throat, "Yes."
His voice was hoarse and gravelly, like a rusty plough scraping through drought ridden fields.
He made his way towards the shackled chair, sitting tensely on the hard wood. Once again, the aged chains remained stationary.
"I plead innocent to all charges, Ms Marchbanks," Malfoy began. "The events Pans- Miss Parkinson have described are true; the hidden cellar room was being used as a holding cell for Dean Thomas, but I am not responsible for his imprisonment. Prior to Miss Parkinson's discovery of the room, I had no knowledge of its existence, and I believe that it was used for my Father's own private business. I was unaware of its location and most certainly did not know that Dean was dying mere metres beneath our feet. Believe me, I know I have made mistakes in the past, but please know I would never harm Dean, especially due to our school history. Upon discovering Dean in the cellar, I must admit I was beyond shocked. I simply could not and cannot comprehend how and why he was down there. I may have even raised my voice at Pa- Miss Parkinson. However, I can firmly say, without question, that I did not hurt her in anyway, such as described in her testimony. I am innocent to both the alleged imprisonment of Dean Thomas, and the physical abuse of Pansy Parkinson. That is all, Ms Marchbanks."
He promptly sat back down in his chair, clenching his hands tightly into fists on his lap, knuckles as white as his ashen face.
"Thank you Mr Malfoy, you may return to your seat."
Malfoy stood again, walking swiftly over to his place on Marchbanks's right.
"The members of the Wizengamot will now confer. A decision will be made shortly."
The Wizengamot rose and processed towards the connecting chamber behind the courtroom, leaving the room in heavy silence.
"I can't see why they wouldn't further the case, Pansy. Malfoy will be persecuted for what he did to Dean, trust me."
Irrespective of my reassurance, Pansy's hands writhed nervously in her lap, twisting compulsively as if keeping them still would sacrifice our suit. Ten long minutes dwindled by, dragging the seconds out to inordinate lengths. I was sure we had Malfoy, but the familiar sense of gut-clenching nerves I had grown accustomed to over the years pulsated in my stomach nonetheless.
He seemed to epitomise the fear eating my insides. His face was as white as milk, with an almost grey hue bordering his sunken, silver eyes. His defined jaw was clenched tightly as he hunched over in his chair, head in his hands. He looked physically ill, weak, his thin hands trembling at the sides of his pained face, fear clouding his ashen features.
What's eating him up? He's the one who-
"The Wizengamot have finalised their decision. The case will go to trial. The suit against Mr Draco Malfoy will commence in fourteen days. Mr Malfoy, you may want to reconsider self-representation. See you in two weeks."
Marchbanks and the rest of the jury departed the courtroom, leaving a ringing silence.
Malfoy released a moan, momentarily exposed, before slamming his chair back into the wall, storming from the courtroom without a second glance.