Again, apologies for the gap between chapter updates! And I'm not entirely sure if this is exactly canon, but I really hope it is (in terms of exam timing in relation to the dates ect)! Despite the sadness (hopefuly conveyed) in this chapter, I hope you all enjoy it!

Draco sat down on the bench next to his mother and looked around. The stone chamber was dimly lit by torches in brackets like the ones at home, sending a flickering light over the grim faces of the witches and wizards that sat on the benches rising around the edge of the room. There was a chair in the middle of the room that stood empty, dripping chains. No doubt that was the throne for his father. Draco saw his mother's shoulders suddenly tighten as the wooden door at the opposite side of the chamber banged open and in walked three wizards; two guards dressed in black gripping a third man between them. The man's long hair was dirty and unwashed, his grim robes thin and unclean. His face was turned to the floor as the other men pushed him into the chair and the chains suddenly wrapped round his arms, middle and chest. Draco heard the man groan slightly as the chains clanked over him.

Narcissa stared hard down onto the man, silently willing him to turn up his face towards them. Once the guards had stepped away from him, he did. She let out a painful sigh at the sight of her husband. His face was unclean and drawn, the dark circles visible from the stands illustrating his lack of sleep and she had to fight back a cry as he looked around the room towards the judges and jury out the trial, terrified.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy," called out the clear, cold voice of Amelia Bones, ringing in the silent, stone chamber. "You have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law to answer charges relating to the activities of the Death Eaters and stand accused of the following: unlawfully breaking and entering the Ministry of Magic with aim to damage and steal; unlawfully entering the Department of Mysteries; attempting to steal the First Prophecy of Sybill Trelawney; conspiring with well-known Death Eaters and finally you stand accused of being a Death Eater. How do you plead?"

Lucius looked up at her fearfully from his seat to which he was bound with chains, his blonde hair dirty and untamed. "Guilty," he stammered.

There was a murmuring all around the stands and Draco looked to his right, surveying his mother. Her long hair was tightly drawn back into a small bun at the back of her head and her expression was cold as she looked down upon her husband – to all of the world she looked disapproving, distant and detached from him, but Draco glanced to her lap and saw her hands twisting and knotting into her handkerchief. Staring directly opposite the room, he moved his hand over hers and held them still. Her head twitched to the side and her shoulders slightly relaxed as she felt her son next to her.

"And do you wish to add anything to your testament?" Bones asked coldly.

"I do not."
Narcissa closed her eyes as people around her murmured disapprovingly.

"Very well. She turned to the jury sat on the right-hand side of the room. "All those in favour of the conviction of Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, raise their hand."

Draco watched in despair as every wizard and witch in the jury raised the hands, each looking in disgust at Lucius.

"And all those against?"

Narcissa opened her eyes and stared at members of the jury hard. No hand went up.

"The jury has it. Lucius Malfoy, you are sentenced to Azkaban for life-time imprisonment in solitary confinement." Amelia Bones addressed him directly as all colour flooded from him face and he looked to cry out in protest.

"No, please, have mercy…" he croaked, looking towards his family at last. "Please, my son, my wife-"

"You should have thought about that before you joined the Dark Side," spat a member of the jury, and a few people around him muttered in agreement.

"Amos," Narcissa heard Bones warn the man. "You are on the jury to remain neutral – don't taint your name now."

Lucius was staring up at his wife and son though, and hardly heard the comment. "Cissy, Draco," they saw him whisper before the two guards stood either side of him and the chains on the chair retracted, leaving red marks across his skin. They grasped his arms and lead him roughly out the door and back to Azkaban.

"Mother, what's going to happen now?" Draco asked, look at her.

She turned to him with glistening eyes. "I don't know," she uttered.

"Everything will be okay though, won't it?" he said worriedly, ignoring the stares of passers-by.

She looked at him and he saw the fear in her eyes. He let go of her hand and pulled her into a fierce hug, letting her go quickly. "Everything will be okay, Mother, I promise," he said firmly.

"Oh Draco," she sighed, looking away from him. "It won't be."

Draco stared at her as she got up, her face hard once more, and stepped down the stands, across the room and out of the door. He followed swiftly.

Once in the grand Atrium of the Ministry they were preyed upon by reports and photographers.

"Mrs Malfoy, what are your thoughts on your husband's imprisonment?"

"What does this mean for you and your son?"

"Does your son plan on returning to Hogwarts now his father is a convicted Death Eater?"

"The Quibbler claimed in an article with Harry Potter that your husband was present that the re-birth of You-Know-Who – is this true?"

"Did you know anything of your husband's illicit activities, Mrs Malfoy?"

Narcissa strode through the crowd of reporters to a nearby grate, ignoring the lot of them, and flung Floo Powder into the roaring fire. She held out her hand to Draco and stepped in, calling out "Malfoy Manor."

After moments of spinning they arrived back home, and stepped, slightly dazed, out of the fireplace and into Lucius' office. "Damn," she muttered, looking round the empty room.

"What is it?" Draco asked, straightening out his robes.

"I forgot that this was the grate we'd come back to," she said coldly, taking off her gloves and striding towards the desk. The familiar wood felt strange and alien beneath her fingers as she drifted them across the top. Papers were still scattered across it from the day that he was arrested – he'd left out his work on the assumption that he would be home for dinner. But they arrested him on the spot and put him on trial the next day. That was only three days ago. Her hand rested on a letter that he had written as her breath became shallower and hot tears splashed down onto the parchment.

"Mother, I don't have to return to school right away," Draco said quietly, standing the other side of the desk. "Not if you don't want me to."

"Don't be silly, dear, you're to return for your final exams," she replied as steadily as she could, hastily wiping away her tears.

"Mother, I've finished them. My last one was History of Magic, and that was on Tuesday. There's not much point in me returning for a week more, only to come home again."

Narcissa looked up at her son – her vulnerable, hurt son – and she saw Lucius in his eyes. He had his father's eyes. Tears spilled down her cheek and he stepped swiftly towards her, pulling her into a tight hug as she sobbed into his shoulder.

The weeks passed, and slowly but surely, the Dark Lord took more interest in Draco now that Lucius was imprisoned, as did Bellatrix. She insisted on visiting the Manor whenever possible and taught Draco the Dark Arts, much as the Dark Lord had taught her. Narcissa refused to be involved, consenting to only teach him defence. She found it hard to keep herself busy, but if she didn't, she knew it would be harder. If she had nothing but the thought of Lucius to linger on, she would surely go insane. The absence of her husband was crushing and her only consolation was Draco – dearest Draco, who became her sole companion in the dark summer months. The Dark Lord visited occasionally, and his presence was even more terrifying than before. The first time, he was little more than human – he looked like a human, talked like a human, and even occasionally acted like one. Even if he never loved anyone, he grew attached to certain things, in a certain way. For example, he often treated Bella with fondness (although more often than not it was mere brutal desire) and looked upon his followers with rare mercy. But now, that was gone. His inhuman red eyes held the blood of the hundreds he murdered and looked upon everything and everyone coldly and harshly, his voice chilling the Malfoy family straight to the bone.
That was a consolation for Narcissa also – if Lucius was in Azkaban, he was not subjected to the Dark Lord and his punishments. Yet.

3rd July, 1996

My dearest Lucius,

It has been not even one month yet and I fear I am losing my mind without you. He is intrusive and cruel towards our family and I fear the reception you will receive from Him should you ever leave Azkaban.
People look upon us now with disgust and contempt – Mudbloods, Squibs and the like spit as we pass, and I do not blame you, I just wish you were here with us.
Fear is engulfing our world, and I wonder if that is because of the new freedoms of the Dementors – but this worries me little, as so long as it is not you they guard I can rest more easily. My sister is teaching Draco how to conjure a Patronus, amongst other things, but I fear should I need to use mine, it will fail me. Any happy memory, any happiness worth remembering, is with you, my love. The days we spent together as children, the day you told me you loved me, our wedding, Draco's birth, his first words, his first broomstick ride, the first time he boarded the Hogwarts Express… every good memory I possess is only good because of you.
I mean not to distress you, but I miss you, and I don't know when I will next get to see you. The Governor of Azkaban has informed me that, as you are in solitary confinement, visits will be few and far between, but I managed to persuade him to allow letters to be exchanged between us, and for them to be unread by anyone. I'm not entirely sure that will be the case, so I urge you to be careful with what you write.
I love you, my darling, and will try to arrange a visit soon with Draco. In your absence he really is turning into a young man. You would be very proud of him.

Your faithful and loving wife,
Narcissa

Lucius read the letter quickly, his eyes darting across the parchment, slightly squinting as he tried to see with the little light provided by a quickly burning out candle. He reached the end of the letter, tears streaming down his grimy face, and pressed the parchment to his nose, inhaling the scent of his home, his wife and son. The cold cell rang with his agonising howl, hardly heard over the beating rain and violent storm that raged beyond the walls of the prison.

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