Hermione decided to not tell Draco that they were going to the Ministry to appeal some of his parole conditions until literally the morning of, when two men he didn't know sat at their kitchen table reviewing their arguments.
She was probably right to do that, because within only an hour to get ready there was no time for him to properly freak out. He may have destroyed an old vase in the parlour and cracked a mirror in the hallway while running past as he raged about the situation, but Hermione was right and it killed him that she guessed that much about him.
He showered and dressed quickly – donning proper wizard robes despite the subtle suggestion from Hermione to wear jeans in a not-exactly-subtle protest – and rejoined the group in the kitchen. Harry handed him a coffee, having done so every day since they awkwardly discovered they take theirs the exact same: two milks, no sugar.
Everything was packed up and they were ready to go.
"We've scheduled you an appointment already so you're free to enter the Ministry, but while they would probably rather you enter through the visitor's entrance, we're going to bring you to the Auror's department entrance instead," Hermione explained, evidently proud of her little rebellion in the face of such a stupid stipulation.
Draco nodded, not able to contribute much and nervous that he had no idea what exactly their legal plans were. He had never asked and now he was deeply regretting that, but it was too late to say much. Harry took Draco's mostly finished coffee cup and set it in the sink before Apparating the two of them to the Ministry for Magic.
Draco didn't get a chance to examine the department or Harry's part of it, being whisked away quickly to the lifts and down to level 10. No one said a word, although Draco noticed that outside himself no one seemed particularly nervous. He decided to take comfort in that, although the shifting looks Hermione and Harry sent him from time to time were a bit unnerving.
"Wait, where did your lawyers go?" Draco asked, noticing they were the only three in the lift.
"Given the type of proceeding, we have to self-represent. They were just advising us this morning to make sure we had everything in order. It's archaic, but we're not above using their wonkiest system to win," answered Harry, as Hermione's head bobbed lightly while she drilled herself on particulars.
The lift door snapped opened before Draco could consider panicking and revealed an almost endlessly long hallway packed with people, some wearing the traditional plum robes of the esteemed Wizengamot, others wearing the assorted robes of varied Ministry employees, and others yet apparently there to watch the show.
Draco shifted uncomfortably, the earlier looks suddenly understood.
"Hermione, Harry."
The group was approached by a large, dark skinned man that Draco vaguely recognized. He had been a part of the Order of the Phoenix, but there was something else about him Draco was forgetting. "Minister, thanks for chairing today," Harry said, shaking hands with the man.
Ahh, one of the Order's top fighters was made Minister. Swell.
Harry and Hermione talked shop with the Minister for a minute, clearly being well acquainted, before the imposing hulk of a man turned his attention to Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm glad to see you're looking so well," he said, looking Draco in the eye. He had no clue how he came up in the conversation he'd been paying very little attention to but caught himself quickly, shaking hands with the Minister and smiling back.
"Thank you, sir."
He figured with his being the reason they were there, it was smarter saying little. Possibly understanding that, Shacklebolt nodded and said his goodbyes before turning and heading off to the courtroom.
"We have maybe five minutes now before the proceedings start," Harry said, turning to Draco.
"Shacklebolt's promised to keep the proceedings in check, so don't get nervous. This won't be anything like last time, not even with the spectators. Just focus and we should be fine," Harry advised.
Draco nodded and the three of them made their way through the crowd, stopping occasionally to say a quick hello, and into courtroom nine.
They took their seats at the large table set in the centre of the Wizengamot chambers. Floating devices circled the room, which Hermione took a break from revising to explain would visually record and stream live onto a screen in the adjacent courtroom for spectators, to prevent any interruptions during proceedings – which Draco thought was pretty smart for this particular hearing.
"All rise!"
The three of them stood as the members of the Wizengamot made their way to their seats. When everyone was present and accounted for, the same faceless voice that had them stand ordered them to sit.
Draco held his breath.
"I hereby call this session into order. Draco Lucius Malfoy, represented by sponsors Lord Harry James Potter and Hermione Jean, are here today to challenge several conditions of his parole terms."
Draco watched as Hermione stood, earning a round of murmurs from the room. Draco sneered at one old man he caught eyes with who had been sneering at Hermione, figuring they never had a chance at his vote anyway.
"Thank you, Minister, and thank you to this esteemed body for the opportunity to speak. I've come before you – again – to speak against the inhumane and unconstitutional treatment Mr. Malfoy has suffered since the Second Wizarding War. We stand here today though, not to discuss the past but to pave the way into the future. Mr. Malfoy served 1200 days in prison for his contribution to a war he wanted no part of and as a child had no choice in. He deserves the opportunity to rejoin Wizarding society, but to properly do so, a re-evaluation of his parole terms is paramount. Now, if you would all please refer to the list of said conditions, Mr. Potter and I will address how we intend to have Mr. Malfoy meet his terms of release, while addressing those we feel to be unfair or dangerous and offer our suggestions for their improvement."
Hermione resumed her seat and immediately grabbed Draco's hand, gripping it rightly to reassure him, as Harry stood and began their arguments. Draco wasn't sure if she was doing it for him or herself but he liked it all the same.
Why didn't they use her last name?
"The first real term of Mr. Malfoy's parole conditions is that he remains within Britain at all times. This is also the first term we are challenging," Harry began.
"Lord Potter, you cannot be serious!" cried out a voice from somewhere in the third row. Draco recognized it but not who it belonged to, until Lord Perneus Parkinson stood and glared at Draco. He could feel his blood boil already but Hermione dug her nails into his knee to stop him from making any more rude faces or worse, opening his mouth.
"You cannot expect us to let a convicted terrorist travel abroad! Our allies would have a fit!"
The colour drained completely from Draco's face when the father of his childhood best friend and ex-girlfriend publicly called him a terrorist. He could hear his heart thrumming in his ears and the resounding echo ricocheting around his mind was causing a painful ache. His eyes began to fog but he refused to cry, turning his head away from the so-called esteemed body to recollect himself.
It helped that Hermione had yet to let go of his knee, although rather than her nails biting into him it was her thumb drawing circles and her hand otherwise resting on him that kept him grounded.
"Those same allies that condemned us when we threw a child into prison for a war largely fought and won by children?" Harry demanded, his voice dripping with scorn as he eyed the pompus pureblood glaring at Draco. "No sir, I certainly disagree. We have submitted for the courts reading several statements from key allies on the continent, including Ireland, France, Spain, Germany, Austria and Bulgaria to name only a few, that have no issue with Mr. Malfoy entering their borders."
Harry turned and levitated a folder to the Minister, who magically duplicated it and sent copies to every member of the chamber. Grumbles could be heard as the folders were flitted through, although the list of countries not afraid of him made Draco's heart lighten, if only slightly. Hermione stood to join Harry on the other side of their table, leaving Draco to watch silent from behind them.
"It is well known to these courts that Mr. Potter, as well as myself, do not work conventional hours nor do we work consistently within Britain—"
"Now see here Lady Potter, that—"
"No, sir. That is not my name. You can take away my surname legally if it makes you all feel so much better but I have declined the title of Lady Potter, so it will be Miss Granger if you please or Miss Potter if you must but those are your two options."
The room went silent. Hermione, however, did not bow down and did not concede.
"As I was saying, our hours and our locations of work vary and if the courts insist on the conditions of Mr. Malfoy's accompanying us throughout all regular facets of our daily lives, there must be some concession. Secondly, it is well known to the courts that his mother, Lady Narcissa Black, is currently living in France and we believe it would be in the best interest of Mr. Malfoy's reintegration and rehabilitation if they are able to meet both in Britain and at her home in France."
Hermione nodded, more to herself than anyone, and returned to her seat so Harry could finish his portion of the arguing without her involvement.
"Hermione, what-"
"Not right now, Draco. I don't think I could answer any of your questions thoroughly enough to satisfy you while these vultures watch," Hermione whispered, leaning over to do so discretely, before returning her attention to the trial going on.