A/n: Warning, a long chapter ahead, if not very. ü

It's the court scene so, please understand. LOL.ü

Anyways, still drafting up chap 36 so it may take a while. Who knows when I update. HAHA.

Well, I really apologize for my appalling slowness of writing.

I'm really sorry.

Anyways, enjoy this for now.ü

I hope it's not boring, though.ü

By: Aningme

Chapter 35

Dilemma: The Sequel

Only having an hour of sleep after talking with Hermione, Ron Weasley was pissy and bad tempered all morning. Merlin knew he tried to sleep, but only tossed and turned on his bed the whole night. He couldn't help it but want to give Malfoy a punch on his handsome face, knowing what a mess he had let Hermione and himself undergo. He couldn't believe that they left their friends under the assurance of their success, and now see that they were falling apart in a timely fashion. How many times should fate lead them to problems of destruction and chaos?

Well, he was one of their problems before, he knew, causing them much destruction and damage. He was even at the brink of success to separate them for all eternity and put them in misery of the acutest kind.

Thank God he wasn't meddling with two stupid lovers to be affected with his momentary idiocy.

But, after spending the whole night brooding about it, he couldn't blame the arse of Malfoy.

Ron knew something was bothering him when he rung him up just the day before, asking him to come over in just a short notice. He heard his frustration through the silence of his voice... the way it made a mute droning sound with his cool tones. Ron tried joking around with him, but only ended up with a couple of sighs from him. Giving up, he tried to pry from him what was bothering him. But, as expected, he did his verbal exhibitions to avoid his questions, and ended the call abruptly without leaving Ron a clue. He ignored that matter for a moment to dwell first on the fact that Malfoy --for the first time, if Ron remembered it correctly--had called him for assistance, if he could call it that. Though it had been a few years since they had become friends, he still found Malfoy the independent jerk as he is.

A call to a friend would be skipping mountains to him, Ron knew.

He'd been preparing for the worse case scenario during the flight from his home through his private jet. After giving their weird conversation on the phone some thought, he considered it may be regarding Hermione's health, or even the investigation procedures...

But, upon arriving, it had been worse than he had thought.

Well, it's not like he'd wish it was about Hermione's health or whatnot. He only never wanted to let them experience the same pains they faced before... just only a few years back...

Back then, when he thought he knew better to contribute to their obstacles, they were separated in matters of distance. It caused them great pains and hurts, both emotionally and physically. Ron can even remember days when Hermione locked herself in her apartment, always forgetting to eat or sleep. And Harvey once unconsiously told him about Malfoy working his ass off to forget his miseries too.

Now, they were together on the same planet, in the same country, under the same roof.

But, even if they wouldn't admit it to themselves, they were separated still, not in terms of distance, but of... presence... or lack of connection... understanding.

Ron frowned at that. How can he even know of such things when he never loved a woman enough to dare to marry her and live with her for all eternity?

But then, even with his ignorance and lack of experience, he knew it was harder to deal and bear with this kind of separation than that of distance and time...

Hermione told him of all their fights for the past few days, omitting some details here and there. She was never good in lying, or even in the act of simply omitting things. It was easily seen in her eyes, the way she would try to avoid yours...

In his opinion, it was a possible case of misunderstanding or misconception. In what degree, he wouldn't know, but he was sure Malfoy could explain some things that deemed questionable.

After a hearty breakfast and a healthy doze of caffeine in his system, he roamed the hallways and corridors in search for Professor Dumbledore and, if he was lucky enough, Malfoy himself. He'd been at it for almost an hour before he realized from one of the house elves that both weren't in Hogwarts this morning. It seemed they took with them Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape as well, being told they weren't anywhere too.

Odd, Ron thought, strolling now on the trail through the forest. All of them can't be gone all at the same time, leaving the school to run by itself. Sure, Madame Pomfrey was there but... it was very seldom to see Professor Dumbldore and Professor McGonagall gone at the same time, unless they had some kind of meeting that required both of their attentions. But also, if such a case is true, they usually would still hold the meeting in school grounds for mere practicalities and convenience.

But then again, they're not IN Hogwarts, Ron thought, his brow now furrowing in a deep crease.

Where else on earth could they be?

Blaise took his seat on the central desk, overlooking the whole circular room. He'd been inside this room for years, sitting on this same chair, facing the single cage at the middle that held all kinds of criminals from common thieves to murderers. He'd seen a lot of confrontations from that particular chair as well, from simple accusations and brawls to damning death sentences.

But right now, as he sat before his desk, seeing the empty seats before him apart from the three occupied beside him, he hoped this morning's hearing would result to all else but a death sentence.

Above all, he hoped this hearing would bring the truth before them, and nothing else.

Narcissa Malfoy was a woman he couldn't consider ordinary. But, though she was guilty of her crimes that brought her here, he couldn't think of seeing himself judging her to her death.

Merlin, she knew his mother personally... was close friends with her. Heck, she knew him since he was still a sperm and an egg, yet to be fertilized.

And now, she was under the oath of law, under his judgment.

This, he can declare indeed, is one crazy fucked up world.

"Apart from this being a private hearing, everything stated inside the walls of this room will be kept under the surveilance of the ministry and will be recorded in writing." Blaise glanced at his desk, eyeing the quill writing by itself on a piece of parchment, quoting every word he spoke in ink. "This morning's court will be discussing the matter of Hermione G. Malfoy--not present--versus Narcissa Malfoy, the convicted, held under restraint. Present with me, Head of Council Blaise Zabini, are Professor Severus Snape, Professor Minerva McGonagall, and Professor Albus Dumbledore." He stared at them respectively, then on the fourth chair just beside Professor Dumbledore.

Draco Malfoy stared back at him, an invisibility cloak covering half of his body, as if his upper torso was floating in air.

"All people present will be under the oath of the law, and will only speak of truth and justice." Blaise sighed after stating all that was customary, and glanced again at Draco Malfoy. He noted he looked paler than he'd last seen him. There were shadows under his eyes, and his face held a blank expression. Forcing himself to push his worries aside, he cleared his throat and raised his hand in a gesture. Draco nodded in acknowledgement and completely disappeared from their sight.

Here we go, Blaise thought. "Bring Narcissa Malfoy in for questioning."

Amidst the whole system of circular seats arranged inside the room, the cage in the middle garnered all attention as the floor below it shook and rotated in descent. A few moments later, the same grimy floor appeared again, now carrying a woman all covered in dirty rags, lifeless as a doll. Her head hung over her neck, her arms entwining weakly with the iron weaves of the cage restraining her.

"Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy, do you swear to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth under the oath of the law?"

Blaise waited for her reply, but found none. "Mrs. Malfoy, please try to cooperate and answer all questions addressed to you. It would be better for all if you do not require us to proceed to pursuing other methods that I believe you'll find very unpleasant."

"You..." A low laugh floated from the confines of the cage, full of malevolence and hate. "Such bastards of the law! I have done nothing to deserve this!" She rapped at the cage, the sound of crashing iron filling the room. "Have you all no compassion...? Is loving a child and doing what a mother think is best for him a crime?!"

Glancing at Draco's empty seat, Blaise sighed, feeling the pool of bile in his mouth.

"I just want to make sure you'll be alright with this".

"Are you worrying for me, Zabini?"

"Just shut up, arsehole. I'm just making sure everything is on track."

"I'm ready, Zabini. Don't bother to think otherwise."

"Things may get messy in there."

"I know."

"I just want you to be ready."

"After being the son of a man who deals with such things and messier things everyday, I believe I know enough not to need a warning from you."

"All right, all right. But, I want you to keep in mind that we're on your side."

"I know that, Zabini. And I appreciate this. I appreciate everything."

"I know, Malfoy. Just do what I told you about that cloak, then maybe I'd be able to say you're very much welcome."

"You will have your right to speak only when we ask questions to you, Narcissa Malfoy." Blaise began, his face straight and blank. "Otherwise, please remain quiet as we asses the nature of your crime."

"You have no right to command me, Zabini." Narcissa spat, her voice trembling in insult. "I knew you since you were a little thing. I knew your mother!"

An electric current suddenly ran through the iron weave of the cage, causing Narcissa to shriek in pain.

Blaise leaned on his desk and eyed her, his face composed even as the smell of burnt skin wafted to his face. "I warned you, Mrs. Malfoy. Now, I suggest you to take on my word and try to cooperate. There won't be any need to cause you more discomforts unless you have decided to be difficult about this." Watching her whimper, Blaise nodded and leaned back to his chair, willing the chills that ran his spine to fade. "Now, we may begin to question the convicted." He kept his eyes on the glaring woman in front of him, marking authority. "Who would like to begin?"

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat, and leaned in to see Narcissa Malfoy clearly. It seemed as if it had only been days since he last questioned her. But then, studying the woman before him, he realized it now seemed as if it had been a year's time they had spoken. She looked so different from before... when she was fit and healthy then, she was a bag of bones now... Her hair was matted and grimy of muck and dried blood. Her face and limbs were scratched everywhere. Her eyes, once bright and clear, now fogged up with what seem to be hatred and madness. "Mrs. Malfoy, I have once spoken to you right before you were taken to Azkaban. Do you remember that day?"

She didn't answer him at first, her mind now drifting to scatters of memories. "I made some strawberry cake... It was fresh and sweet..."

Dumbledore nodded, now fearing that he was right about her mental status. "Do you remember that certain cake you made that night?"

"Yes. Sweet. Creamy. It's strawberry." Her lips twitched to a smile, her eyes going overly bright. "It's a very special cake. He likes strawberries very much."

"Who, Mrs. Malfoy?"

She shivered and rocked back and forth, suddenly recoiling into a sob.

Dumbledore set his pity aside, and prompted her. "Who were you pertaining to, Mrs. Malfoy?"

Narcissa fought to swallow a bawl, and stared at her hands, grimy and bloody from her own nails. "My baby..." She wept now, clutching at her torn clothes. "... my baby boy... my son..."

Pausing a moment to gauge his constricting throat, Dumbledore risked a glance at Draco's direction, and kept his voice level. "Did you or did you not, Mrs. Malfoy, mix a certain potion in that cake that is concocted through dark arts methodology?"

Silence hung across the room. They all knew the answer to that question, and only dreaded to hear of it again.

Now turning impatient, Blaise shifted in his seat. "Mrs. Malfoy, please answer the question."

"Why else would I be here for?" She spat, glaring at Blaise now. "I did nothing wrong."

"Illegally using potions in muggle territory and endangering a pregnant woman with it are not--in any way to you--wrong?" Blaise countered, not letting his gaze waver from her intense ones. "No matter what the circumstances are, using spells in muggle territory will cause you a slap from the law. But doing it particularly to someone behind his or her back is worse. And endangering a life--or in this case, lives--is asking for it."

"I am not here to meddle with you, Zabini." She retorted, her teeth baring at him. "You have not yet lived long enough to have judging eyes before the law!"

Insulted, Blaise opened his mouth to answer her, only to be held back by Dumbledore's gaze.

"We are not here to assess Mr. Zabini's right to authority, Mrs. Malfoy." Dumbledore spoke, calming the room down. "We are here to talk about what happened that night when Mrs. Hermione Malfoy accidentally took the--"

"SHE IS NOT A MALFOY!"

She screamed, then staggered to the floor after another wave of electric shock ran through her body.

Watching her crawl to the ground, Blaise leaned to her again and shook his head. "I asked you to cooperate, Mrs. Malfoy. Answer the questions adressed to you and nothing else."

"I just want to see my son!" She bellowed, rapping at the cage with her fists again. "I just want my son back! I WANT MY SO--" She jolted to the floor for the third time, shaking with the tremors of the electric shock that shot through her.

"I demand order in this court, Mrs. Malfoy, or you'll get more than burns." Blaise warned, his voice now hard as steel. When Narcissa only mewled, Blaise glanced at his audience and nodded for them to continue.

Professor McGonagall cleared her tightening throat and forced herself to clear her head and set her emotions out of her way. She may not have the credit of being a mother, but she always had felt her motherhood through her students in Hogwarts. She knew it must be hard for Narcissa to be separated from her son in such a way. But, may it be painful or not, she didn't have the right to steal the life of a child from another mother. Better yet, she didn't have the right to control the life of her own child, the young Draco Malfoy.

She stole a glance at his transparent form, and felt a heart warming affection for him. He may have been a troublesome student during his schooling years, but she did accept him as what he was and how he was--hurt, deprived, and alone.

She couldn't help it but give him a brief smile, feeling proud for who he is now, then turned away to face the convicted. "It has been established that it is indeed a fact that Mrs. Malfoy is guilty for putting a certain potion concocted through dark arts methodology in the cake, now causing the loss of Mrs. Hermione Malfoy's memory..." Narcissa growled upon hearing her name. "... and endangering her current condition. Now, Mrs. Malfoy, did you or did you not intend for Mrs. Hermione Malfoy to partake of the contaminated cake?"

"I do not care for the girl." Narcissa answered, her voice hitching, her body still in shock. "I don't give a fuck about the girl... She's just a cunt. A mudblood cunt..."

Dumbledore fought his strong urge to reach out to Draco to remind him to calm down. He didn't want to risk any confrontations in this court hearing.

But then, he was equally worried about Draco himself. He wondered what he was thinking now.

"Mrs. Malfoy, you can't still be up to that argument, can you? Do you still think of purebloods more powerful than those of who are not?" Professor McGonagall answered calmly, her voice leveled and controlled. "I believe the war proved that theory a complete idiocy, did it not?"

"I only want what's best for my son..."

McGonagall raised a brow. "By poisoning him?"

"How can you ask that?" She spat, as if she was spitting bile at her. "How can you even know and understand my vantage point? Did you ever hold a child for nine blessed months and give life to it? How can you judge me? How can you look at me and belittle me when I only wanted what's best for my son!?"

Bullshit.

"Yes, I may be an unreliable judge for that." McGonagall nodded in agreement. "But Mrs. Hermione Malfoy would understand you the best under these circumstances, would she not?"

"I don't give a fuck about her and her bastard child."

"So, you did know the fact that she was with child."

"It won't make a difference." Narcissa rose to her feet and groped at the cage. "Can't you see it? Can't you see that she's a whore who let herself be pregnant so she can have my boy to herself?"

McGonagall felt her temper starting to release and show itself. But as she felt Dumbledore's hand hold hers in restraint, she closed her eyes and shook her head, clasping her hand into a fist.

Dumbledore felt the fist under his hand tighten in anger. He held it steadier and looked at Narcissa. "It is apparent that you did not intend it for Hermione Malfoy to partake of the contaminated cake." He began, changing their tactic for questioning. He knew if he would let this continue, Draco wouldn't be able to control himself to sit in that room and do nothing to defend his wife.

He could feel his anger pulsing out of him from where he sat just right beside him. He could hear the way the wooden chair creak in complaint as Draco's hand gripped at it hard. He could also hear his breathing, quick and shallow, as if someone was holding him by the neck.

He knew Draco wouldn't have Narcissa talking nonsensical about Hermione.

"But if what you have planned indeed ran smoothly as you thought it, what would have happened then?" Dumbledore continued, hoping Draco could still hang on.

There were too many things at risk here, and too many matters depending on this court hearing.

Narcissa clutched at the iron bars, her eyes bearing on particularly no one, clouding up as if she blurred away the scene before her. She could only see the face of the only person she was still breathing for...

She could picture him, her sweet boy, smiling at her, as if he was waiting for her... "I would have taken care of my son... Raise him as I should have years ago..." Fresh tears streamed down her face, yet she was ignorant of them. "I won't let our past ruin us... I love you, Draco. Please know I love you more than anything else..."

Dumbledore felt the way Draco's back went rigid. She was speaking as if he was right there before her eyes. "What would happen to Mr. Draco Malfoy if he had taken that cake?"

Her hands clutched harder at the iron. "You would have forgotten everything, Draco... The ugliness of the war... the pains your father caused you... You would only then rely on me..." She paused, sobbing again, choking back the struggling tears. "You need me... And I'll take care of you... give you the most wonderful memories..."

Professor Snape then spoke, his voice hoarse due to misuse and the big lump forming in his throat. He managed to stay distanced with this issue so far through the course of the hearing...

Merlin, he won't be affected with this, not in any way. He was certainly not the type to emphatize with the convicted... or the victim.

But then, why was his throat starting to choke him with a big lump? "Mrs. Malfoy, potions are known to be having temporary effects on those who partake it. And I know for a fact that most potions are like that, both normal ones and those of the dark arts." He paused, clearing his throat again, forcing himself to be oblivious with the existence of the lump in it. "But there are cases wherein there is permanence as a part of the effect of a potion. Now, is your potion one of those cases?"

They all waited for the answer, but she only wept quietly, clawing at the iron with her bleeding nails.

"Mrs. Malfoy." Blaise began, his throat also clogged with a lump. He knew this wasn't a normal case of crime. He thought of how he belittled cases of domestic disputes just moments ago before they began... and felt ashamed of how shaken he was now. "Mrs. Malfoy. Please answer the question."

She tried to choke down the fighting sob in her chest, and dragged her eyes to Snape for the first time. "Y-yes..." Her sob escaped. "Yes, it... it is... a permanent case."

Dumbledore thought he heard Draco's breath hitch.

"But regardless of permanency or not, such potions still have an antidote to undo such effects, is that correct?" Professor Snape continued.

"... yes..."

"As you and I know, both of us had been exposed to spells and potions of the dark arts, and so is Mr. Draco Malfoy." Snape pointed out, indirectly speaking to Draco. "But, in this case, you went beyond the books and have concocted this particular potion in question by mere formulation. By yourself."

She seemed to be drifting to thoughts away from the discussion again. "... yes..."

"Can you give us the formula of this potion?"

Upon hearing this question, her eyes drifted through her audience's faces. Her eyes seemed to dull in emptiness. "I cannot do that."

Snape kept his eyes level. "Then, do you have an antidote for it?"

Her words were spoken in a whisper. "If I have, why should I give it to you?"

"You have told us of your innocence to Hermione Malfoy's condition." Professor McGonagall interjected, believing she was calm now. "Don't you want to correct the mistake you have done?"

Narcissa laughed, not humorously, but edging to insanity. "I may have failed in my plan..." Her eyes widened in excitement... "But I'm satisfied that she was the one to take it."

She laughed in malevolent delirium, her voice resounding like the devil himself. "The stained blood cunt deserved it."

That did it.

Draco jolted up from his chair, relieving himself from the protection of the invisibility cloak.

"How could you do it?!" He roared, ignoring the hands that abruptly appeared, pulling back at him in alarm.

Dumbledore clutched at him, trying to restrain him. But he only pulled away from him and started to walk towards her.

Seeing the murderous black anger in his eyes, Snape stood up from his seat and blocked him with an iron grip.

He wanted to walk up to her, get a hold on her neck, and snap it neatly to her death.

Narcissa only gazed at her son, smiling as if she had seen an angel. "My son..."

"Damn you!" Draco cursed, fighting and pushing Snape off.

Dumbledore reached again for his arm. "Mr. Malfoy--"

Draco pulled it back. "What do you want from me?!" He demanded Narcissa, his voice rising a degree higher.

"Mr. Malfoy, stand down." Blaise commanded him, now standing up from his chair too.

Narcissa's hand reached out to him, her arm shaking in frustration and desperation to touch him... "Please... Draco... I--"

"Why can't you see that I love her?" Draco continued still, blinded and overtaken by fury. He couldn't hear anything else but Narcissa's incessant breathing. He desired nothing else at the moment but to hear it choke and stop.

"You don't love her, my boy... She's just a whore who sedu--"

"You do not have the fucking right to judge her." He told her, his voice returning to their cool tones that raised the hairs on her arms. "You continue to stand there and talk of the abuses of the authority and law for judging you. You speak of them not understanding you and the inferiority of your circumstances. But you forget the simple matter that you do not have any authority to judge my wife if she is right for me or not."

Narcissa only gaped at him, unable to speak a word.

"Do you even know what is to love?" He asked, his voice dropping now to a whisper. "Did you even love my father?"

"Mr. Malfoy--" Blaise started, but was interrupted by Narcissa.

She couldn't stop shaking. She couldn't stop the tears from coming. "Draco... I loved your father..." She paused, trying to calm her sobs. "I loved him... more than he ever deserved..."

His face was composed, devoid. But the pain in his chest was genuine and choking him. He pained for the woman in front of him, for not being able to keep their family together. He knew he couldn't forgive his father, or his mother.

They stopped being a family--if they ever were--since his mind could remember.

But, even if he pained for her, it couldn't over power the other pain that was fighting in his chest. He couldn't breathe, but forced himself to speak. He wouldn't give up now. He wouldn't let himself fall apart. "Then why..." He stopped a moment, trying to push back the shadows now trying to overcome him. "... why can't you accept the fact that I love Hermione?" He didn't realize how hard it was to say her name. He couldn't help it but see her broken and tear streaked face. And he couldn't hide the fact that he did that to her...

He made her miserable.

All of this was his fault.

"You cannot love her, Draco..." Her voice suddenly sounded distant. "Not her... For Merlin's sake, not a mudblood whore..."

Draco closed his eyes, his jaw clenching as he commanded himself to calm down.

Noticing his struggle for control, Snape loosened his hold on him.

But, however calm he seemed, Snape didn't let him go.

They all knew what Draco Malfoy can do if his anger and fury took over him.

"It may be hard to accept that fact with our past circumstances. To everyone, it seemed entirely impossible to happen, even for me."

Blaise didn't notice the small smile that crept up his mouth upon hearing that statement. But he indeed noticed the discreet nods everyone gave Draco as they agreed to every word he said.

"But, no matter how many contradictions I point out, it happened." A weak smile formed on his face. "I love her. How much, I can't even describe."

McGonagall quickly wiped at the tear that spilled her right cheek. Snape only blinked and swallowed. Blaise grinned like an idiot. And Dumbledore nodded in delight.

Narcissa didn't accept it. Couldn't. "I... I only want what's best for you, my son... That's all I ask... all I desire..."

It was bullshit, Draco knew. All she wanted and thought about was herself and her wishes."You made that potion for me. It was supposed to be for me." Draco continued, his gaze not breaking away from Narcissa's. "But our circumstances right now didn't merge with what you planned...

"Hermione's hurt... She's hurt badly..." His throat constricted at the thought. He knew he could blame the woman before him. But he couldn't help it but point the finger at himself. "If you want what is best for me... then... I beg of you... please..." His voice dropped to a whisper, his breath shallower.

He's willing to give up everything else.

Even his own pride. "Please, mother... what is the antidote?"

He never called her his 'mother' since she found him... She never thought she'd hear her name from his lips again...

At the sound of her name, she felt incandescently and undeniably happy.

"Draco... My son..." She smiled at him, even as her tears still flowed down her face... "I'm... I'm so sorry... God... I'm so sorry, my boy..." she was shaking all over, falling down to her knees.

"Please..." Draco whispered, his head bent, his hands trembling. He couldn't even look at her now. "Please... tell me the antidote..."

She bawled at that, her hands reaching at her hair and ripping at them. "I-I can't... I'm so sorry... I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry..." She rocked herself, her mind exploding of memories from the past now flashing before her eyes... Draco when he was born... Draco falling down to the ground when he was a toddler, crying... Draco bloody from his father's whips... Draco on the ground cringing in hunger from his father's punishments... Draco Draco Draco Draco...

"Please, mother..." Draco continued. He couldn't see anything else now, not even the old wooden chairs, the faded marble floor, and the people around him.

He could only see in his head the face of the woman who held his heart.

Did his heart ever love until now? For all of his life, he only cared of himself and his goal to have a life that is secured and hidden from his ugly past.

But now, he'd give up even that, just for her.

"Please..." He still insisted. "I know how you dread having our family destroyed as it is... And it is apparent you'll do everything to bring it back..." He ran his left thumb on his wedding ring. "But please understand... She is my family now..."

She's everything to me...

"I-I can't.There is... " Narcissa shut her eyes, crying hysterically now... What has she done? What has she done? Why is she always losing the only people she ever loved? "I'm so sorry..." She meant it this time. More than ever.

She knew the most important person in her life right now may never forgive her for all eternity. "There is no... antidote..."

Seeing Draco's body turn rigid, Blaise walked up to him and placed a cautious hand on Draco's shoulder, assisting Snape who was still holding him for precaution's sake. They knew what Malfoy's murderous black temper can do. They'd rather not let it loose, for their own safety. "Malfoy, come on. Sit down."

He didn't say anything... Couldn't. His mind went blank now.

"C'mon, mate." Blaise whispered in his ear, his arm surrounding his shoulders, pushing at them slowly to his chair. Snape stepped back and kept a cautious eye on him, a nagging worry he denied existed clawing at his stomach. "Sit down for a while. That's it."

Settling Draco on his seat, Dumbledore reached again for his hand and held it firmly.

Returning to his own seat, Blaise blew out a breath and turned to Narcissa's broken form. "Mrs. Malfoy, under our circumstances right now, there is nothing else you can do for us." He paused, calming his nerves now. He added a mental note to hug his blessed son before he went to bed for the day. "There is nothing you can do for your son."

"I'm sorry Draco I'm sorry I'm sorry my boy my sweet boy my baby..." She chanted in whispers, rocking her shivering body back and forth. She shut her eyes and willed for darkness to envelope her... "There is no antidote... There doesn't exist an antidote... there is no antido--"

"The only thing you can do for him, if you want a chance before you're locked up for all eternity, is to tell us the formulation of the potion..." Blaise added.

"Why...?" Narcissa muttered suddenly, her body abruptly stopping from rocking... "Why do you think I chose the dark arts... for this...?"

Professor Snape edged forward on his seat. He couldn't help with the situation any more than he could. The only thing he could do to help is use his sole knowledge of the dark arts. "The possibility of permanence as an effect of the potion."

"Yes, yes..." Narcissa agreed, her voice drifting into a soft sound, as if her energy was drained from her. "Yes yes, that's true... But there's more..." She laughed a moment, as if she won in a sort of game. "You're all so ignorant... so ignorant... You all don't know of Macmuth..."

"Macmuth?" Dumbledore repeated.

Snape only shot up from his chair, utterly shaken. "Y-You... You couldn't have."

Narcissa only laughed... cried... and laughed again...

"What?" Blaise prompted Snape. "What was she talking about?"

Snape stared at the demented woman first before turning to them. "She used Macmuth to herself... A spell that let's anyone who knew a certain formulation of a potion forget it all." Snape stared at them in disbelief.

"What do you mean?" McGonagall demanded.

"She doesn't know how she formulated that potion." Draco muttered in shock, his blood now draining from his head to his toes. He could feel his body drifting from him... Everything looked so surreal... and blurry... "She can't remember how she made the potion..."

"It is a dark arts spell that let's the one who casts it upon himself protect the knowledge of the formulation of a certain potion. So that whoever attempts to know it and reproduce it will be unsuccessful." Snape shook his head. "That spell cannot be casted upon anyone else but yourself, that is why it is called one of those precautionary spells."

Dumbledore now turned to Narcissa. He hated the fact that he knew nothing more about the subject. The books of the dark arts were always published with only one copy and nothing more, and recopying it would be against the law. The only books he had were bits and pieces of dark arts spells that were the most basic of all.

Who knows how many more books there could be that may contain more deadlier spells than he had already encountered? "You cannot have formulated that potion solely by yourself. There must be a basis of some sort."

"My potion..." She whispered, staring at her hands... "It's my precious potion... Potion for my happiness..."

"Mrs. Malfoy--"

"I was reading a potions book by the dark arts methodology... It was when I thought of my son..." Narcissa continued, rudely cutting Blaise off.

Dumbledore prompted her. "What book was it?" When she only stared at particularly nothing, Dumbledore repeated. "Mrs. Malfoy, what book was it?"

Her eyes slowly drifted back to Draco, now red and weary from crying. "Do you remember, Draco? Do you remember the first book your father ever gave you?"

Draco stared back at her, his eyes chillingly empty and devoid of any life.

She sobbed quietly, but there weren't any tears in her eyes to pry out anymore. "Do you remember the book you proudly held night and day? The first book you read and mastered? The book you considered your first gift from your father?"

Everyone's eyes turned to Draco now, waiting for his answer.

But then, to everyone's surprise, Draco stood up, jolting the others to their feet as well in alert.

He only turned to Blaise and spoke. "This hearing's over. I thank everyone who came here for their time."

"No... No. No, Draco!" She knew she lost him now. "No! No. NO! Don't go! My boy!"

Draco headed for the door, leaving everyone staring after him in disbelief, ignoring the screams of Narcissa calling out to him.

"Well, then." Blaise began, his insides all jelly. "This hearing has come to a bloody end. Bring her back to her cell."

Watching Narcissa scream her descend back to her dungeon, Dumbledore sighed in defeat. "Head back to Hogwarts, Minerva. I'll have to catch up with you."

"But Profess--"

"I have to speak with the boy." Dumbledore added in a quiet voice, pertaining to Draco, and directed his floating chair to the door without another word.

Ron Weasley spent the remaining of his morning searching in different shops, inns, pubs, and whatnot of Hogsmeade to find nothing. He asked around if anyone saw any of the missing people he'd been trying to find, only to be led from one place to another. It was already reaching noon. He'll have to be back by then for lunch and remind Hermione to eat. He knew she'd still be in a sulky mood, after that last fight she had with Malfoy. He'd bet his whole company to the devil that she'll forget about food and anything else that's important for her health. He'd need to point out to her that she's also a soon-to-be-mother, and that such very pregnant women need more of everything to keep them good on their feet.

Sighing now in frustration, he took a turn to the next street and decided to go back. He promised Malfoy to look after Hermione when he asked him to come over.

A chat with him would have to wait then.

Strolling along the busy sidewalks, he didn't notice the woman coming out of the red telephone box just beside him. She opened the door, and quite briskly at that, accidentally hitting his shin with iron and glass.

"Bloody --toot--!"

"Hey!"

Ron glared at the woman as he bent down to his shin, cringing in pain.

She glared back, and raised a brow at him. "Watch where you're going, laddie, and watch your mouth too while you're at it!"

"An apology would have been nice." He spat and straightened up, wincing when he stretched his leg. "This is going to bruise, I'm quite sure."

She merely stared at him, as if she didn't hear him.

Ron stared back, raised his brows. "What? Do I have blood on my face?"

"Ron Weasel." She almost gaped at him. "Good Merlin's shoes. Is there a batch reunion of some sort?"

"What?" He scrutinized her face, curious. "Do I know you?"

"I sure know you." She smirked. She didn't expect for his puny brain to remember anything at all. "Parkinson. Pansy Parkinson."

That figures. Nobody else called him weasel unless it was Malfoy or one of his followers.

He looked at her, the one loyal admirer of Malfoy, and scoffed. She looked entirely different. But at the same time, she looked terrifyingly the same. She wore too much make up and changed her hair.

But when he look closely enough, it was her same old ugly face.

He glanced at her blood red nails, and shook his head. "Who would have figured that. You wear too much face goo to last a lifetime."

"I do not." Miffed, she frowned at him and pressed her painted lips together. "Who would care for your opinion, anyway?

But then, he wasn't paying attention to her anymore. He merely stood there and stared at the red telephone box.

"What are you doing here, Weasley?"

Ignoring her, he sidestepped her and moved closer to the phone booth. "I need to make a call."

Staring after his back, Pansy rolled her eyes and walked away. Why did she even ask him? It wasn't like she was curious or anything.

Giving him a last glance, she turned to the next street and headed back to her pub, her thoughts completely occupied with her weird and brief conversation with a weasel.

Ron only stood there, still pondering on the red telephone box. He couldn't believe how he almost forgot about it being a portal to the Ministry of Magic Office.

Ministry of Magic Office? He thought, considering the possibility. If his speculation of a 'meeting' among the missing professors Lowry the house elf told him of, then they may be in the Ministry's premises.

Deciding to make a last stop over just to check before coming back to Hogwarts, he opened the booth and stepped in.

Dumbledore was lucky enough that he had his floating chair for feet. He knew he'd never catch up with Draco Malfoy's pace even if he still had his good legs.

Floating beside him, he only sat back and watched him. "Mr. Malfoy, I know this may have been hard for you."

He didn't speak.

Dumbledore sighed. "Mr. Malfoy, I wish I do know resources as to amend what has been damaged. But, under these circumstances, you are the only one who knows a particular source for a solution. We need to know the book."

"I have everything under control."

"I will not allow you to do such amendments by yourself. You of all people should know my stand in this. Mr. Malfoy, please."

Draco stopped on his steps, but didn't look at him. "Yes, Professor, I know your stand on this. And I thank you for giving me much and everything to help. I came here to do what I have to do and to look for answers. Please do not be a hindrance to this."

"I do not wish to be a hindrance, not at all." Dumbledore corrected. "We are all here to help, Mr. Malfoy. Do not close down on us and do all the work by yourself."

Draco turned to him now. "I brought us all here. It's my doing. I do not let others do the work I'm responsible for." He paused, trying to calm the lashing rage in his chest. "Please do not misunderstand me, Professor. Good day."

Staring after his back, Dumbledore shook his head in defeat. He couldn't get through him with that deathly rage prehending him.

He'd have to let him clear his head, before he could talk some sense into him.

But, for the boy's sake, he'd keep watch on him before he does something he'll surely regret.

Ron watched as Draco walked off and left Professor Dumbledore in a corridor. He knew something was brewing, having them all disappear at the same time and on a school day. He even saw Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and all-grown-up Head of the Council Blaise Zabini step out from the court room, making him infer that a hearing had taken place.

But, what disturbed him the most from all of his discoveries was Draco's face when he left Professor Dumbledore.

He looked so... frustrated... and angry. Definitely angry, terrifyingly and lethally at that. He'd never seen him that way before. He had seen him angry once or twice... but not in this degree.

Whatever popped his cork must've been really bad.

Deciding to follow him, Ron waited until Dumbledore was out of ear shot and called out to him.

He wouldn't be surprised if Malfoy only ignored him. He usually ignored him when he's pissed, or when he was annoying him.

But then, Ron couldn't help it but be surprised when Malfoy turned at the sound of his name and grabbed his shirt, pushing him roughly on a wall.

The air in his lungs were pushed out in a huff as Malfoy braced his arm against his throat.

"Malfo...y... Wh...at... the... he...eeellll..."

He only stared at Ron, his silver eyes seeming to bore holes on him. Ron wanted to shiver at the flaming fury in them, but held still and fought to breathe.

"What are you doing here?"

His voice was chillingly calm and cold... a complete contrast to the anger smothering him.

"I... I was..." Ron blinked at the tears forming on his eyes with his lack of oxygen. "I can't... breathe..."

Studying him another moment, Draco loosened his hold.

Ron coughed for air. "Damn it, Malfoy. What the bloody fuck is wrong with you?"

Draco still held his shirt. "Why are you here? I told you to stay with her."

"I was looking for you, bloody bastard. She told me how everything was going." Ron coughed again, his throat starting to get scratchy. "What the hell have you been doing here, Malfoy?"

He lifted him off the floor in half a second. "It's none of your fucking business, Weasley. I asked you to come here for her. Not to have you asking a lot of annoying questions."

Ron gripped at his arm. "Of course I'll ask questions, arsehole. I'm your bloody friend, remember?"

Draco didn't speak. He gave Ron a last look and released him, walking off.

"Malfoy!" Ron called, following after him. "What's wrong with you?" When he didn't answer, he ran up to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "What the hell is going on?"

Draco just glanced at Ron's hand on his arm, and looked at him. "I suggest you move your filthy hands off me, before I do it myself."

Ron frowned at him. "What has gotten into you?"

Silence hung before them, as they both tried to figure each other out. Rain drops started to tap on the windows. The clouds hovered above them and kept them in shadows.

Pulling his arm back, Draco just stepped back from him. He couldn't hold himself together any longer.

Merlin, he needed to be alone.

"For once in your life, Weasley..." Draco began, his voice suddenly weak against the hissing rain. "Leave me be."

Taken aback, Ron, like the others in the hearing, just stood there, staring after him.

A/n: Yey! It's done!

I really hate doing court scenes.

But anyways, I hope it wasn't too boring. LOL.ü

See you next update then! ü

TC!

Special messages:

Bella Elizabeth Malfoy - Thank YOU so much for the support. It really means a lot to me. Thank you THANK YOU! (And thank you for understanding me.ü)

lovin.black - Thank you for reviewing still.ü I'm really sorry for being so late.

Gin-Ryuu - You have supported me since I started here. Thank you so much for being so patient with me.ü THANK YOU! As for your question, I don't know exactly how many more chapters there will be, but I promise to finish this as soon as I can.ü LOL. Again, thank you for reviewing, as always!ü