Fifteen

Tribulations

"Did we light too many matches?
Turn ourselves into these ashes
Did we throw it all away?"

–Zayde Wolf, Walk Through Fire

They weren't in Azkaban just yet. But Lucius Malfoy knew that he soon would be. His choices had not only damned himself but his family.

God what had he done? Voldemort hadn't been worth it, and the vision of a monumental reputation and prestige amongst the Death Eater ranks had clouded his judgement.

He looked down at the greying Dark Mark on his forearm, it would remain a scar on his body for the rest of his life and on his family's arms for the rest of theirs.

He knew the Dementors call, the sucking finality that it made when the despair hit and he knew what the consequences would be when they left. He remembered hugging his knees and rocking back and forth on many nights, nightmares haunting his sleep, making it harder to breathe with every passing second. He didn't wish that on his family.

Lucius remembered when the Dementors came to take the memory of holding Draco for the first time and how he had defended against their call with everything he had. He couldn't let them take that memory, not that one. Draco had been a ball of small squirming energy, pink cheeks and a shock of pale, pale hair. He was calm even for a baby and he was everything Lucius remembered his father telling him about children.

The other memories he defended was first meeting Narcissa, their wedding and one particular occasion with Severus Snape. Narcissa was named Black back then and she was the height of unattainable. She was the only girl that he wanted and was only glad when their friendship blossomed with the sharing of a flower and then the issue of a marriage contract. The contract was the cement in their already formed bond. Their wedding was a day of white and peacocks, a gift from his father before he died. Three months later and Narcissa fell pregnant; Lucius remembered kneeling down to her stomach to hear the phantom heart beat that would soon sit there. He was marvelled at everything Narcissa was and everything Draco would come to be.

His family was his legacy more than his reputation ever would be, it was only now that he was truly realising it.

The occasion with Severus Snape was where they got drunk, talked about how the death of the Dark Lord was more of a blessing than a curse and marvelled at their freedom. They had danced with sloshing glasses of Fire Whiskey, looking back on the good old days and making fools of themselves. He had woken up with a designer lampshade on his head, Severus stuck in a suit of armour and Narcissa too elated to help them break out of their confinements.

The man would be missed, and in some instances, in most of them maybe, he had been a better guardian to Draco than he had. It would be the first time Lucius prayed to some God in which he thanked Severus Snape for all he had done and shed a tear for everything he had lost, and was yet to lose.

They were still huddled around the half destroyed Great Hall, refusing to go home. The Weasley's tried to get him to go home but he wouldn't leave when his best friend had just been carted off for helping bloody Death Eater's.

"Come on Ron," Fred sighed, he was tired, like they were all tired because the War was enough to make anyone exhausted.

"I'm not leaving until we have a plan for Hermione." His hands were pressed against the wood of a still intact wooden table and his knuckles thudded against it in an anxious knock. Hermione may have gotten in this mess because of Draco Malfoy but she was still his best friend, the very same girl he loved even though she didn't return his feelings.

Harry was the same, he stood next to Ron with a steel expression on his face, for all it was hardened from the Battle Ron knew that Hermione had crafted that particular expression.

"I left her once and I am not doing it again." Ron gritted out and Fred's face crumbled, his twin coming up to hoist an arm around his shoulder. They all knew about leaving Hermione and believing her to be dead. They had only just gotten her back and now she was in a cell somewhere. Safety was something far from her reach and Ron hated it.

"She's our best friend," Harry murmured, "We can't let her down again."

"For once," a voice said and Ron turned round to see Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini walk up to them, "and I hate to say this, but I agree with the fabled Golden trio, well duo now." Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and soon Crabbe and Goyle joined the group of Slytherin's that had come into the lion's den. "For some reason Draco has trusted his life with Granger, doing enough to secure a Goddamn Vow. If we want Draco out then we also get Granger out."

"Our brains are better put together than apart," Zabini reluctantly answered, "Granger may be an exception to that rule, but Draco certainly isn't since he can be a hard boiled idiot at the best of times."

"I didn't think you knew the cooking term for hard boiled?" Ron joked, ignoring the look his mother shot his way as she talked with Percy, glad to get her other son back in their family.

"I do have House elves Weasley, I'm not that stupid." Zabini snorted and Pansy led them to the Slytherin dungeons, the one area that hadn't been obliterated by the battle. The rest of Ron's family went home, besides Ginny who stuck around Harry like a limpet and Neville and Luna joined them to the snake's pit.

Together they plotted on what they could do to free their friends. If Hermione was there she would congratulate them on their inter-house bonding all the while berating them for their stance on house elves.

Hermione was scared, she had to admit that. She had never imagined that something like this would happen. She hadn't done anything to aid Voldemort, in fact she had done everything to stop him.

Ron and Harry would help her even if she couldn't help herself. But it couldn't come to that, surely it wouldn't since she hadn't helped Voldemort's side.

Surely the Wizarding World had to see that?

Was this what Sirius had felt? Alone in the presence of his own thoughts for days on end, hoping that justice would be on his side? She could almost see him, curled up in the same way she was and shivering in the confines of Azkaban, hoping that Remus was alright and hoping that he didn't believe that Sirius had killed Harry's parents. It was a sad life to live and Hermione didn't want that to become her life. She wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy because that loneliness was crippling.

She sat and she listened to Narcissa quietly singing in the next holding cell, letting the words of wizarding songs she didn't know wash over her.

Harry spent the next few days after the Battle flicking in between Hogwarts, where immediate repairs had begun, and the Weasley's. Half the time he was thinking of ways to help Hermione and the other half he was assuring Ginny that he wasn't going anywhere, relishing in the feeling that it was all finally over. He had ate more than double his weight, Mrs. Weasley cooking up a storm in victory over her family being back together, and yet she still maintained that he was far too skinny and what had he been eating while on the run?

But today was the day where he swore he would go to the Dursley's and see them back into their home, out of hiding now that they were safe. He had been told they were in a hotel in London and Ginny had insisted on coming with him.

"After all they did to you and you want to see them again?" she asked as they prepared to apparate to London, "You truly are too good for them." She shook her head and they arrived in London with Harry pressing a kiss to her forehead. They were back together, ready to face the world once more and the only thing missing from his life was Hermione's freedom.

"I have to see them, for…" maybe it was closure, to finally close that door on his childhood. It didn't seem right just to leave them with an owled message saying that the war was over and he wanted to give them a chance. Merlin knew how many chances he had given them? Ginny nodded in understanding and then they were approaching the hotel and asking for their door number.

Outside of their door Harry was suddenly nervous, struck with the finality that this was his old family, the people he considered family until the Weasley's and Sirius showed him the right definition of the word. These were the people who had neglected him, a form of abuse that Hermione had sat him down for and explained.

Ginny knocked on the door for him, realising that maybe he never would, and Dudley opened the door with a backwards glance inside where he finished his conversation with his mother. The words dissolved on his tongue when he saw Harry.

"Hey Big D," Harry murmured, extending a hand because he didn't know what else to do. The hand was met with a handshake as Dudley pulled him in for a short hug, but a hug nonetheless. Harry was surprised at it, remembering the last thing that was said to him was that Dudley didn't think he was a waste of space.

"Dad's at work right now, so you can come in." Dudley hurried to say, calling over his shoulder that Harry was at the door. His eyes then swivelled to Ginny, going up and down as she grimaced. Harry placed an arm around her waist and Dudley's eyes widened.

The hotel room was modest and the conversations that followed were stilted. Harry told them that the battle was over and they were safe to go back to their own home in Surrey, Harry wouldn't be returning with them but he did give an open invitation to write to him if need be. He didn't know whether they would follow it but it was better than nothing. Petunia didn't say much, her eyes stuck on Ginny and the likeness that it had to her sister and at one point Harry mentioned that he had saw memories of his mother along with Severus Snape. Petunia didn't understand the magical logistics of it but she had a few choice words about the greasy haired fellow and her sister.

As they were leaving Vernon came through the door, freezing as he saw them. "I didn't expect you to come back boy."

Ginny was on her feet in moments, her wand extended to the man's throat. "After every kind of abuse you put Harry through and he's forgotten about all of it, you greet him like that?" she snarled and watched as the man turned purple at the edges and began to tremble, "Apologise."

"Dad just apologise then they can leave." Dudley whispered and Harry knew that maybe the apology was more for Harry's sake rather than Vernon's.

"I'm sorry boy," the words were forced out but the wand was lowered.

"Harry if you would stand out by the door I'll give you some of your mother's things." Petunia mentioned, ignoring the look that Vernon had shot her.

Petunia was sorry in a way but she never voiced it and the contempt with her muggle blood went too deep for her love for her sister to really show. Despite that Harry was grateful for the items that she handed to him, the blanket and letter that came with him when he landed on the Dursley's doorstep, a hand held mirror, an age old photograph of Lily, James, Petunia and Vernon in the most awkward poses imaginable, a bracelet and an old journal. Harry would not cry but he felt like he had a piece of his mother back there in his arms. Ginny took the items from him as he thanked Petunia and Dudley called through that he would write to Harry when he could.

He left with the closure he came for, a smile on his face and a kiss to Ginny because all he needed now was Hermione out of that god damned jail cell.

Neville felt nervous. He had shaken off the thought of Luna following him to St. Mungo's because he wanted to do this on his own. His parents were never something to be scared of but he wanted to make them proud. Would his actions lead to that?

His grandmother had offered but he had also refused her, this was something he had to do on his own. Did they not see that? These were his parents and he had to do this, for himself more than anything.

He took a deep breath and entered the room, finding his parents both staring off into space, his mother humming into the empty air. He had saw the tail end of their torture, saw the exact moment the crucio got to her brain and he blinked the memory away. Bellatrix was dead now, and the Death Eaters still alive were going to be in Azkaban for a long time.

Carefully Neville sat down and began to recount the tales of the Battle of Hogwarts, mentioning everything that had happened since the last time he had saw them. "I'm sorry for not coming to you sooner but it wasn't safe with You-Know-Who, but he's gone now," he began clearing his throat to make sure his nerves stayed intact. "I killed Nagini, his snake, and it turned out it was a Horcrux, the one thing that granted him immortality. Harry said that I helped immensely with You-Know-Who's defeat. If anything I helped with the war and survived, just like what you set out to do when you joined the Order back in the day."

His father looked at him during a point in their one sided conversation, the stare wasn't entirely blank and Neville smiled. He was lucky enough to have parents, although they resided here permanently.

"But it's over, Bellatrix Lestrange is dead, You-Know-Who is dead and we are finally safe," he laughed dulling in his chair, "Oh and I think I have a girlfriend, Luna came up to me and kissed my cheek after the battle, we'll have to talk about what that means but I think it has a good ending, a happy ending."

He paused, looking at his parents and thinking on what could have been. "All I ever wanted to do was make you proud, make you have a happy ending of your own, maybe I have done that?" he furrowed his brows and his mother came over to hand him a sweet wrapper, pushing it in his hands and curling his fingers around it. "Thanks mum."

Neville could have sworn his father then said, "Your welcome Neville," and when he looked over his saw the older man crying.

He burst into tears between standing and calling for the nurses.

Draco didn't like the cell he was in but he had to put up with it. The ministry officials were useless and had just said that his trial would be within the next couple of days. He had no idea what was going on, no idea how his family or Hermione was doing. Had they wrecked everything already? Had he doomed Hermione by saving her?

He sighed, curled deeper into the ball he was in from where he was lying in his cot and thought. He may have been selfish and arrogant but he wasn't arrogant enough to admit that Hermione deserved any of this.

If the ministry didn't let her go the justice system was doomed and he would never have faith in it again.