A/N: So this is a bit of a heavy chapter, you've been warned. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 21 - Family
He sat, looking down at his father from the seats. Lucius, through all this, still had his proud and haughty demeanour, to his credit. Not that that attitude would really serve him well currently. Beside him was Hermione, who was unusually tense, but considering all the times in the past she had either been in the ministry or in the presence of his father, he could not blame her. Nonetheless, he was grateful for her being here. Whether or not she knew it, she needed to hear this.
He didn't really pay attention to much of the trial, he was far too nervous about his part of the ordeal. He shifted his attention from his father to Hermione for most of it, only vaguely hearing people condemning his father for his actions. Words of how he had already had too many chances, how this was beyond the last straw. He felt too many eyes on him, wondering what he was going to say.
Finally, he was called to the stand. He stood there for a few moments, surveying the crowd. He felt the heat of everyone's gaze on him. He was starting to panic, unsure if he could go through with this, and then he looked at Hermione. He had asked her here, and she had come. If she could do that for him, he could do this. Sensing his discomfort, she gave him a small, encouraging nod. He cleared his throat, and began.
"Ladies and Gentleman of the jury, before you, sitting in shackles, is a Death Eater; a man convinced that because of the fact that his family lineage has not been tainted by any 'non-pure' blood, he is better than you. A man who has tortured, and murdered those who he has deemed less worthy, and those who stood in his way. A man who would sneer down to a muggle-born, or anyone seen associating with them. A man, who happens to be my father.
Not so long ago, we lived in a dark time, a time where people like him rose up and almost succeeded at taking over our world with their twisted beliefs and ideologies. Led by Voldemort, the most wretched man I've had the pleasure of meeting, and that's coming from someone who has been in the presence of many Black's and Malfoys." A slight chuckle went around the room of people staring at him intently. "Voldemort and the Death Eaters treated these people, who they had deemed lesser than them by means of blood, like filth. As though they were a plague to be gotten rid of, and infestation needing to be eradicated. But they were not just cruel with their enemies, those who followed, but failed them, did not fair much better.
Physical and mental torture was their favourite game, and when their were no muggle-borns or blood traitors around for them to play with, they turned to the weakest among them. And at times, the weakest among them was my father, and at other times, it was me. The cruciatus curse was a particular favourite of theirs, but also the imperious. I have seen them force foul things on people, things that should not even be thought of." His voice shook at the memories, but he cleared his throat and persevered.
"I am not here for your pity though, I am fully aware that you think we choose our bed, and if that bed tortured us, it was our fault. But let me ask this, to everyone is this room, who here among you questioned us? Who here among you were brave enough to let your voice be heard when you heard someone the likes of my father spouting nonsense about blood status? Who here among you stood up for a muggle born when being prejudice against them was in season? Who here questioned us?" His eyes scanned the group, who were now looking somewhat sheepish.
"I stand here before you, ladies and gentleman, a product of my surroundings. Had it not been for a muggle-born too damn clever for her own good, along with a blood traitor and our apparent saviour who were willing to defend her, no one would have ever made me question my beliefs. Every time I told her she was inferior, she spat it back in my face, beating me in every class we had together, refusing to let me be superior in any way. Not many people have the guts to stand up to their bully. I know I never stood up to my father, and he certainly never stood up to his.
I stand here before you an ex-Death Eater, changed by 3 of my classmates who refused to take my bullshit. I stand here begging of you not to go easy on my father, not to pity him, but to understand him. I stand here hoping that we can change, and realize it does no good to see others as lesser than ourselves, be it because they look different, act different, or were brought up in a hopeless circumstance. I do not ask you to go easy on my father, I simply ask that we move on from the dark times of Voldemort.
There have not been many times in my life I have been shown compassion, than by my enemies. By Dumbledore who knew it was my task to kill him, and right down to the very last second did not blame me, but in fact offered me shelter. By Harry Potter who saved my life when I had tried to kill him during the Last Battle. I do not ask that you give my father anymore chances, Merlin knows he deserves no more, I simply ask that we start treating our criminals with more decency than Azkaban. Maybe instead, the punishment for this behaviour should be living among muggles and learning to understand them.
Hate only breeds more hate, and I think we've had our fair share of that at this point. In front of you sits a man who no one ever had the guts to tell he was wrong. Who was trained into who he is today, by his father, and then by Voldemort. They have warped his mind until all he has is hate and a lust for power. Before you, sits not a monster, but a broken man." He looked around the room, until finally his eyes met those of his father's. He didn't look pompous anymore, in fact, it may have been one of the few times Draco had seen genuine sadness in his father's eyes, and it was almost as if he could see right through him.
"Goodbye father." He whispered, barely audible enough for anyone to hear him, but he knew he heard it, and that was all that mattered. With that, he left the podium, having said all he had to say. And that was when he heard clapping, a single person slowly clapping. Turning, he saw Hermione had risen from her seat and was clapping, then he heard someone join her and looked a few seats away to see it was his mother. Slowly but surely, the whole room slowly stood up and continued the clap and Draco could not help but shed a few tears that maybe, just maybe, he had made a difference.
A/N: So, a few things. First, I have another fic! It's called Changing the Rules, and it's for the Through Time Challenge! It's about Mcgonagall traveling through time trying to make the magical community see muggles differently as in canon, she was forced to choose between magic and a muggle she had fallen in love with. So after you review this fic *wink* head on over and check that one out, if that's your sort of thing! Second, I had an idea for another fic, as this one is coming to a close soon where each chapter is a different prompt from someone along the same story line. So if you have any prompts for the first chapter, feel free to PM me with that! Thanks so much!
Always,
Shan :)
