Chapter 9

Harry stared at himself in the mirror, anxiety churning his gut.

This was it. The day to rescue Draco and put the fear of Merlin into anyone who had touched him.

He studied his appearance critically. A little paler than he would like, but given his stress and lack of sleep over the past week it was hardly surprising. Tilting his head slightly, he debated borrowing some of Hermione's makeup. It certainly wouldn't be the first time, though he didn't make a habit of it.

Pursing his lips, he decided a few artistic touches wouldn't go astray. He was playing the avenging angel, it wouldn't do to look anything less than perfect.

Riffling through her case, he quickly applied the required products, then re-evaluated himself. Perfect. His skin now had a faint shimmer, giving it a dewy, almost ethereal look. The dark smudges under his eyes were hidden, and the very carefully applied eye makeup made his eyes huge and luminous. Best of all, he didn't actually look like he was wearing makeup.

He carefully mussed his hair, spreading the product through it. 'Bedroom messy', Draco had called his style. Harry just called it 'done'.

Turning to add the final touches to his outfit, Harry glanced out of the bedroom door to see Hermione fussing over Ron's Auror robes.

They'd decided that only Harry would take the stage, unless things got out of hand, in which case Ron would be there to help out. Hermione of course was there to provide testimony and run rings around the lawyers.

Harry tucked in his shirt, and swirled his cloak around his shoulders with a flourish. He felt a little silly in this particular get up, but he knew the importance of the right appearance, especially in this case. He had the body, and playing it to full advantage could only help. So Overly Dramatic Hero Stereotype it was.

He idly mused that it was a pity Lockheart wouldn't be able to see how it was really done.

Draco was quietly panicking.

He was seated in the chair in Courtroom 10, chained down, and they were moments away from sentencing him to Azkaban.

He'd been forced to reject the chance to use Veritaserum or a Pensieve, for obvious reasons, and without being able to provide an alibi, there was no way to refute the evidence.

And there was no sign of Harry.

Harry cursed slightly under his breath as he strode down the hall towards Courtroom 10. Of all the bloody times for the elevator to get stuck! It had taken several minutes of jiggling and thumping the button to get the elevator moving again.

The hall was empty but for one or two Ministry sycophants, and despite his muttering and heavy tread, they didn't notice his Disillusioned figure, nor the two equally invisible bodies disturbing the air behind him.

Honestly, the lack of security and observational ability of the average wizard employed at the Ministry made him want to get punch happy on some upper rank morons.

Idiots, the lot of them.

Reaching the doors, Harry paused and took a deep breath.

Show time.

"We, the Wizengamot, hereby find Draco Malfoy -"

Everyone in the room jumped as the doors crashed open, and two bound figures, with black bags over their heads, came skidding across the floor to end in a crumpled heap at Draco's feet.

A chill wind swirled into the room, bring the scent of petricor.

Harry stood in the doorway, forest green cloak swirling in the conjured wind, his powerful aura uncontained and crackling around him, throwing off glittering sparks of light. His muscular form was displayed to perfection in a white silk pirate style shirt, open at the chest to display his lightly bronzed pectorals, and black leather pants that hugged his legs and buttocks in a way that several news articles – mainly written by swooning female reporters - declared should be illegal. His boots were mid-calf high, heavy and chunky, detailed with metal and wrapped in laces and buckles.

Draco was amused to realise Harry had just worn his clubbing boots. They were a brand called New Rock, but Harry called them his 'fuck you' boots. He bit his lip to avoid laughing. And dear Merlin, was he wearing makeup?

Harry's face was cold, the lighting in the room making his skin seem to glow. He looked Otherworldly, but there was no mistaking his identity. The scar on his forehead was clearly displayed, framed by his unruly hair that rippled and twisted in the breeze. He looked every inch the romantic hero, and Draco decided then and there that it was high time they experimented with costumes and roleplaying in the bedroom.

The Aurors reacted before they could register who it was that had interrupted the proceedings, flashes of light speeding towards Harry before anyone could blink.

Draco opened his mouth to shout, but Harry - the wonderful and overdramatic git - merely extended a splayed hand and the spells dissipated upon an invisible shield. Draco raised an eyebrow, impressed despite knowing that Harry had planned on being as dramatic as possible.

And damn if that wasn't a turn on.

The moment of shocked silence passed, and the roar of the crowd shouting questions and screaming that it was Harry Potter was deafening.

Draco idly counted how many witches swooned, since his dignity wouldn't allow him to join them.

One had to admit, his Harry certainly knew how to make an entrance.

Harry turned his burning gaze to Draco. His face darkened at the chains wrapping around his lovers body.

His voice boosted by a Sonorus, Harry spoke over the hysterical onlookers.

"Draco Malfoy. I hereby release you from your vow to me. You are no longer bound to silence."

Draco grinned, and tore his gaze from Harry's to eyeball the Minister and prosecuting lawyers.

"On the night of the murder, and all other occasions that I was supposedly seen at the house of the victim, I was with my boyfriend, Harry Potter."

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that fell.

Draco kept his face serene, though inside he was cackling madly. The looks on the faces of everyone in the courtroom was almost too funny for words.

Harry strode across the floor to halt next to him, standing with his feet braced shoulder width apart and hands clasped behind his back. His face was stony, though the breeze still swirled around him, making his cloak dance lightly.

Draco caught a faint whiff of the woodsy cologne he'd bought for Harry a few months ago, and had to fight the urge to squirm as his cock twitched. Apparently that particular scent mixed with the petricor from Harry's magic was a rather spectacular combination. He decided that at a later date he would explore that little titbit more thoroughly. For science, of course.

"Mr Potter, I must say this is rather unexpected." Kingsley Shacklebolt rumbled. His face was its usual stoic mask, but the slight twitch of his lips and the amusement in his eyes were clear to those who knew him well.

Harry merely raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure."

"May I ask why you have chosen to interrupt this session in such a dramatic fashion? To my understanding it has been years since you deigned to grace the Wizarding world with your presence."

The words may have been faintly caustic, but Harry could see genuine curiosity behind it. He hadn't seen or contacted Kingsley since leaving the Wizarding world behind, but the two men had always gotten along fairly well.

"Because you would have convicted an innocent man. He was bound by Wizards Oath not to reveal me, and as such was unable to defend himself adequately. Had I revealed myself earlier, I would have been mobbed, and unable to see him in order to release him from his vow. Even if I had managed to release him, being suddenly able to reveal information, especially information about me would have looked contrived and desperate, and would have been treated as such. I decided that this way was the most efficient. Congratulations on your appointment as Minister by the way. I would have sent you a card, but, I didn't."

Kingsley stifled a smirk. "Thank you. I appreciate the sentiment, I think. May I ask where you have been?"

Harry's face grew marginally colder, his tone matching. "Is that relevant? I must admit that my most pressing priority is currently chained to a chair."

Nodding slightly, Kingsley conceded. "You're right. Perhaps after this issue is dealt with you would agree to meet with me?"

Harry pursed his lips slightly – drawing a dreamy sigh from most females in the spectator seats – and half lidded his eyes.

"I'll consider it."

Nodding again, the tall black man knew that that was the best he would get at this point. He clearly remembered how Harry tended to react to being pushed.

At that moment, one of the figures at Draco's feet stirred, drawing the attention of the Boy-Who-Lived.

"I request Veritaserum. I think you'll find that these are the real culprits behind the murder of Magda Thomas, and the framing of Draco Malfoy."

Waving his hand, Harry conjured two chairs and motioned for the Aurors to place the bound figures on them. He waved his hand again, more bindings wrapping around them and keeping them immobile.

The wide eyes as everyone watched him perform wandless magic made him fight down a chuckle. His wand was strapped to his forearm, and he'd taught himself how to cast through it without drawing years ago, since waving a wand around when in the muggle world drew too much attention. However, combined with a long sleeved shirt, it looked suitably dramatic.

"Mr Potter, you may not be aware, but taking Veritaserum during a legal proceeding is voluntary. We cannot force these people to take it against their will. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded peacefully, and stepped forward to whip the hoods from their heads, his back turned to the crowd. The shouting from the Wizengamot and spectators at the revealed identities provided the perfect cover when Harry whispered to them.

"You will take the Veritaserum." His voice mimicked Voldemorts, and their terrified faces paled further when his eyes flashed to Voldemort's red slits for a split second.

They nodded quickly.

Resuming his position next to Draco, Harry raised his voice again.

"Perhaps we can begin?"

A few members of the Wizengamot grumbled at his interference, but Kingsley quickly silenced them and moved the proceedings along.

The Veritaserum was quickly accepted and administered, and Kinsley began his questions.

"Lucius Malfoy, do you know why are you are here?"

"Yes." His voice was the soft monotone induced by the drug.

Kingsley bit back his annoyance. He'd been out of the field too long if he'd forgotten how literal people under Veritaserum could be. "Please tell us why."

"Because I betrayed my lord by framing my son for murder."

Kingsley frowned. "Your lord?"

"The Dark Lord."

The panicked screams and yelling was loud enough to drown out the Minister as he tried to restore order. Several people fainted, and one elderly lady collapsed with heart trouble and had to be removed to St Mungo's for treatment. Kingsley banged his gavel and shouted, but the crowd was close to rioting, and his efforts went unheeded.

After several minutes, Harry lost his patience and cast a loud bang from his hidden wand, drawing enough attention that Kingsley was able to regain control.

Kingsley cleared his throat and sat up straighter. "You claim that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is your Lord, and that you framed your son for murder?"

"Yes."

Kingsley pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting a smile. "Alright, let's take this one point at a time. You have previously claimed to have only served the Dark Lord due to being under the Imperious Curse. Was that the truth? Or did you serve willingly?"

An elderly member of the Wizengamot coughed. "Point of order, Minister Shacklebolt. This line of questioning pertains to a closed case unrelated to this one."

The woman's voice was uncomfortably reminiscent of Delores Umbridge, and Harry shuddered imperceptibly as he rubbed his scarred hand. Six years, and he still had I must not tell lies embedded in his skin because of that bitch.

Kingsley pursed his lips in irritation. "You are correct Madam Rosier. However any claims relating to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will be investigated thoroughly, and if new information comes to light, all relevant cases will be re-examined and reopened as necessary. I will, however, concede that the matter of the case at hand should be dealt with first." Ignoring Rosier's furious huffing, he returned his gaze to Lucius, and began again. "You claim you framed your son for murder. Please explain why, and how."

And so Lucius began.

"My son had been shaming the family with his antics and blatant homosexuality. He refused the bride selected for him, electing instead to carry on like some sort of common whore, not even being discrete enough to keep his deviancy out of the public eye!

"After many futile attempts to have him see reason and marry Miss Parkinson, we gave him one last chance. When he again refused to marry and produce an heir, it was decided that it was necessary to force his hand.

"Miss Parkinson selected the target, based on her knowledge of a pathetic crush the bitch harboured after Draco saved her worthless skin during the war."

"What was the targets name?" Kingsley prompted.

"Magda Thomas. It was pathetically easy to woo her. We Polyjuiced into Draco's form, and conducted several assignations with her."

Kingsley interrupted again. "We?"

"Miss Parkinson and I. We alternated, ensuring we were both seen at various social events in order to establish alibis for ourselves."

Nodding, Kingsley spared a glance at Draco, noting his pale but expressionless face.

"Please continue."

"We Obliviated the mudblood during each meeting, convincing her that we were having – relations – when we met." Lucius's face screwed up in disgust, despite the Veritaserum dulling his emotional responses.

"We timed each interaction for when Draco was off with his latest whore. He claimed to be bound by Wizards Oath to keep the filth's identity secret. We tried to find out who it was, but never succeeded."

Kingsley interrupted again when it seemed Lucius might get lost in the details.

"So you took advantage of the oath, making sure you and Miss Parkinson were seen impersonating Draco because you knew he wouldn't be able to provide an alibi?"

"Yes."

His face stony, the intimidating black man decided to cut to the chase.

"Did you and Miss Parkinson kill Magda Thomas?"

It seemed as if everyone in the room was holding their breath.

"No."

Draco listened, feeling his world come crashing down around him. He'd known, of course, that his parents disapproved of his lifestyle and couldn't accept that being gay was something beyond his control, and had suspected that they had something to do with his current predicament. But hearing it laid out so coldly was a rather bitter potion to swallow.

Harry leaned marginally closer, unobserved by the rest of the courtroom. He could see how much Draco was hurting, and wanted nothing more than to hold his lover and soothe the pain away, but he knew that such affections would be unwelcome in public. The Malfoys had a reputation to maintain after all.

Draco noticed, and flicked his eyes towards Harry in a silent gesture of thanks.

Kingsley tried again.

"Do you know who killed Magda Thomas?"

"Yes."

Rubbing his eyes in frustration, the Minister kept his voice to its habitual calm rumble, refusing to allow his irritation to bleed through. "And that would be?"

"Me."

Before the shouting from the spectators could deafen them all, Madam Rosier was again on her feet.

"Minister Shacklebolt, clearly Mr Malfoy is confused, since even under Veritaserum he is contradicting himself. I move that his testimony be stricken from the record, and that he be moved to a secure ward in St Mungo's for assessment."

Kingsley speared her with a cool look. "Madam Rosier, I believe that the contradiction was due to the phrasing of my question, and further questioning will determine whether this is the case. One has to wonder why you are so determined to prevent Mr Malfoy from giving testimony."

The unspoken warning and potential threat hung in the air as the two politicians stared each other down.

Rosier broke first, gritting her teeth and resuming her seat. Kingsley continued to eyeball her until she lowered her eyes.

"Mr Malfoy, are you admitting to the planning and murder of Magda Thomas?"

"Yes."

Fighting to keep the wolfish smile from his face, Kingsley took a moment to compose himself and let the furore die down. He had waited a very long time for this.