Both Dracos were astounded. Zabini's cries of pain etched themselves into Draco's brain, but that's where he lost consciousness. The memory faded.
Frustrated, Draco pulled out the second to last memory and opened it.
He was in the infirmary, an eyepatch on one eye and the rest of his face not looking too pretty. He had a potion on his bedside that he knew would heal his internal bleeding, but he'd almost choose to keep spitting up blood than drink the horrid fluid. Madame Pomfrey entered and when she saw the potion still full, she tsk-ed.
"Honestly, Mr. Malfoy, how do you expect to heal without this? Natural healing could take months."
"It's horrendous."
"Oh, Merlin's beard. It's not meant to taste good, it's meant to keep you from bleeding out."
She poured a small amount of it into a small cup and held it to Draco's lips, whose face twisted in disgust before allowing her to pour the fluid into his mouth. It was the color of baby vomit, and it tasted like it too. He had to struggle just to get it down.
"There we go, that's the ticket." He coughed and hacked until he was offered a glass of water. When he could speak again, he said,
"Where's Harry?"
"Yes, I thought that might be coming. He's receiving a… Stern talking-to."
"From whom?"
"The Minister of Magic himself."
Draco felt and saw himself go pale. Using the cruciatus curse could get Harry imprisoned for life.
"I have to see him."
"You don't have to do anything, but heal. Here, drink some more."
Draco grimaced but accepted another mouthful of the putrid potion.
"When can I see him?"
"If you can see him, it'll be at his trial."
"When's that?"
"Next Tuesday, I hear." She confided to him.
The same memory blurred, and then reformed. He was seated in the court room for the Ministry of Magic. Hopefully this new Minister would be more objective than his predecessor. Harry was seated in the center chair, calmly looking up at the Minister. Draco was seated behind Harry's right shoulder.
"Harry Potter, you know why you have been summoned?"
"Yes, Minister."
"On the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you used an Unforgiveable Curse on a fellow student."
"Yes, Minister."
"Please explain your actions."
"Blaise Zabini was using physical violence against another student, undeservedly."
"And instead of disarming him, you chose the Cruciatus Curse."
"Yes, Minister."
"How do you justify this?"
Harry looked over his shoulder to where Draco was seated, who gave him a small nod.
"I'd like to direct the Ministry's attention to my… Fellow student, Draco Malfoy."
Draco stood nervously.
"Draco, show them what he did to you."
Hesitantly, Draco walked around the circular pew until he was beside the Minister's pedestal. Once there, he removed the eyepatch still on his eye so his full, bruised face was on display. He also lifted the side of his shirt to display the large, blotchy purple still obvious under the skin.
"In the end, Draco suffered a concussion, broken ribs, and internal bleeding. Not to mention the damage to his face." The minister peered at Draco's injuries.
"Mister Potter, I agree this was unnecessary violence and Mister Zabini's actions will have serious ramifications, given his past and the chance the Ministry took with sending him back to Hogwarts, but this matter was not yours to deal with. What gave you the right to take such action?"
Draco replaced his eyepatch and looked back at the brunette with his good eye. The brunette in question stood and addressed the Minister and silent Wizengamot.
"Minister, I seem to find myself in love with Draco." Silence fell in the room, and Draco felt his throat closing. Harry smiled sadly at him, and then continued. "I accept any and all punishment you see fit." And then he sat.
"Very well, Mister Potter. We will deliberate, and you will hear from us before sunset. You are dismissed."
Harry was ushered from the room by two employees, and Draco tried to pursue them, but Harry was being held somewhere he couldn't find. He saw himself pacing outside the court room for what seemed like days. Eventually, the Minister and Wizengamot emerged.
"Minister!" Draco cried. "Please, you have to listen to me."
"No need, Mister Malfoy. We all believe Mister Potter's declaration to be genuine."
"So you see he's not dangerous, right?" The Minister sighed.
"Unfortunately, that is of no consequence. He used an Unforgiveable Curse, and pleaded guilty. He will not escape his punishment." Draco shook his head.
"So, what are you saying? Is it to be Azkaban, for the Savior of the Wizarding world?"
The Minister appraised him sadly, but made no answer. He led the Wizengamot toward the elevator, leaving Draco short of breath and a maddening headache pressing behind his patched eye. He left the Ministry and apparated to Hogwarts. He ran as fast as his healing lungs would allow to McGonagall's office. Once inside, he found himself alone. He was wheezing, and he spat blood.
He felt suddenly hopeless, but then he caught the eye of Dumbledore's portrait. He was present, and smiling gently.
"Ah, Mister Malfoy. Headmistress McGonagall is indisposed at the moment, can I help you?"
"How can you speak to me like nothing happened?"
Dumbledore's image shrugged.
"How can the vanquisher of the greatest dark wizard of our time come to love the son of one of his accomplices?"
"How did you… Nevermind. They're taking Harry to Azkaban."
Draco came to McGonagall's desk and leaned on it with his hands.
"I am aware of Mister Potter's situation. You'll be relieved to find he will only spend the minimum sentence, however. The new Minister must prove himself not to be soft-hearted, and just as well as fair. Harry knew the risk he was taking when he made the decision he made."
"Why? WHY would he make such a reckless decision?"
"I cannot speak for him, but… Would you yourself not do the same for him, if your places were switched?" Draco contemplated this, and realized he would. Without a second thought. Dumbledore gave him a knowing smile.
"I've… Never known love… Not like this, I can't…" He took a deep, calming breath through his nose. "I find myself fighting it. Why is that?"
"Perhaps it is not your love for Mister Potter that you resist, but the love for yourself that you must first accept, in order to accept his."
Hot tears spilled over Draco's good eye, and stung his injured one.
"How can I? After all that I have done… You of all people should know how unworthy I am." He bowed his head and fought the sobs rising in his throat.
"I have never thought you unworthy of love." Draco raised his gaze to the former Headmaster. "Draco, when I look at you, I see a very hurt boy, who has spent his entire life chasing unattainable approval. When your father withheld it, you deemed yourself unworthy. Such is not the case, except for in your own mind." Draco considered this. "You are your own enemy. That being said, I'm not encouraging you to go to war with yourself. Rather, accept your weakness, and work to correct your flaws. I believe Mister Potter is giving you the perfect opportunity to do so."
"You think… If I accept his love, I might be able to love myself?"
"Ah… That is up to you, Draco. All I can say with certainty is that if Harry is willing to go to the very prison your father was condemned to, he must love you a great deal. That is a prize not easily won, and not easily taken from you. Cherish it."
Draco nodded and wiped his tear-streaked cheek.
"And in the meantime?"
"In the meantime… We wait."
"How long is the minimum sentence?"
"Two days."
"Seems an eternity."
"And an eternity passes like a blink of an eye." Dumbledore remarked. Draco wasn't sure what he meant by this, but he needed to be alone.
"Thank you for your wisdom. And I… I'm eternally sorry for… Everything."
"One more bit of wisdom – no one deserves to be sorry eternally. If you do not find your own peace, I'm afraid it will consume you."
Draco nodded, turned, and left.