For fifteen minutes, solicitors and judge deliberated behind closed doors, while the courtroom was left to recover.

Eventually, everyone returned to their seats. Harry, aided by Avi, had calmed down and been allowed to return. His shoulders slouched and his expression slacked into that of disassociation. Something vital had gone out of him during the shouting match with Narcissa, Draco saw it. He noticed Harry's dead stare ahead, the opposite of his emotional outburst before. Avi must've given him something. A mild sedative that left him awake and dull, perhaps. He didn't trust it. Something ticked behind Harry's deceptively blank eyes.

The judge announced changes in the proceedings.

"The needs of this trial have changed. In light of the admission of guilt, the appeal, and new evidence required, this trial is now suspended. Draco and Narcissa Malfoy will submit to medical testing to clarify the biological integrity that each has in relation to the child. Blood samples will also be taken from Lucius Malfoy. All evidence will be assessed and a verdict shall be reached regarding the rights and sentencing involved."

Destiny protested, "But Your Lord, blood tests will likely be affected by the curse. It reaches the level of genetics and is why a blood-magic test was never relied upon before."

The judge answered, "Before I send a wizard to prison and consider any sort of visitation rights, I want all the evidence possible. The child will of course, also undergo testing. I'm told results will take eight hours to attain, therefore, this trial is dismissed for today and will resume at 9 AM tomorrow."

He pointed out that Harry's admission of guilt was pending consideration, and did not hold enough substance to warrant detainment in a cell. Harry and Draco locked eyes from openings in the privacy screens, as they were guided through the testing process. Draco had had to remove his dress jacket and he was putting it back on as Harry lingered, watching him. His glare warned Harry that this was not the place to discuss anything, and forced him to keep his distance.

Harry waited to get close enough to whisper, "I have to talk to you."

Draco shrugged him off. "It can wait." His voice was cool and he quickly put more distance than necessary between them, making it difficult for Harry to walk next to him without looking like he was struggling to keep up. Harry slowed, not wanting to show anymore vulnerability to those present.

Draco got away from him, brusquely extracting himself from a crowd of people calling his name. Harry stood there for a moment, feeling him slip completely out of reach. It hurt. He got his feet moving again and followed him out, also ignoring throngs of people, including their solicitors. He thought Draco might be headed for the public floo system, but saw him walk up to a dark sedan, who's driver opened the door for him. He called after him. Draco spared only a glance, disgusted by the reporters demanding statements from him. He shut the door in their faces. Harry didn't blame him, only that left himself as a target, as the press had no one better to badger. As Harry ignored them, he comforted himself by deducing that Iece must be near. Draco had to be using a muggle car instead of the floo system because he was traveling to pick her up. No doubt to follow the court order to present her to the nearest hospital for testing. Of course he wouldn't have time to talk to Harry. He was too busy taking care of all of Harry's problems.

That made Harry feel worse. He felt like he needed to say something to Draco, without knowing what. He'd been so reckless at the trial. Had it cost Draco his visa? Was he angry with him? He'd spent all that time chasing Snape because he knew he already had Draco. A constant in his life, even if Draco did push him away at times. He always took him back. Had he finally fucked up so badly, that he'd jeopardized that?

The next morning, his lost expression, as he watched the car drive away, filled the front page of the Prophet. The headline read, 'Husbands Divided. Draco Leaves Harry on Court Steps.'


By mid morning the next day, they were all back in court. Even though Harry waited on Draco at the hospital, he didn't get to talk to him. Draco evaded him, getting Iece in and out, and exiting the hospital through the stairwell.

He's doing what's best for her and the trial, Harry consoled himself. He kept himself from following as Draco's driver sped away from more press.

He tried not to think about the trouble they were all in, and was prepared to explain away any abnormalities in the results, as being the effects of the curse. No one could prove that it wasn't.

Late into the night, Destiny had coached him to stick to that. "Blood tests, even the magical components, will have to be thrown out, as the curse is unprecedented in its ability to rewrite genetic information. We might have to go so far as to use Draco's body to show how volatile and destructive to DNA it is. Pictures will speak louder than words, I'm afraid. Draco is prepared. I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but it looks like it might."

"I'm not going to let him go through that," Harry told her. "Just let them arrest me."

"If only it were that simple. Mrs. Malfoy opened a can of worms. The prosecutor is going to sniff out the rat he smells regardless of your admission. If Draco demonstrates his body's ability to transform, that may be the only way any jury can comprehend what's going on with Iece's body, and how tragic it is."

She couldn't convince Harry that exploiting Draco was worth the sacrifice to his privacy. Even if everything was being done behind screens with professional doctors, all the evidence would be seen by average people. People who would talk, point fingers, and otherwise contribute to disrespect.

"Do whatever it takes to keep pictures from being taken of his body."

"He's volunteered himself."

"Bullshit. He's only doing it to get us out of this. It'll kill him to give the public that kind of ammunition."

"It may be our strongest card."

"It's not." He had to make her understand. That was difficult to do without knowing what Draco had disclosed to her. "Look, I realize it's no secret that he's been cursed sexually. But pictures add a completely different dimension to humiliation. I know the muggle internet. The worst images in existence, end up there. Our world has already crossed with theirs, long before I attacked Lucius, and that would be a million times worse for Draco. His enemies and associates a like, would all have access to the most private photos possible. I won't have him do that for us."

"There may not be anything you can do about it. You don't want your daughter ending up in Narcissa's hands. No jury is going to give Narcissa visitation rights when they see what she allowed to be done to her own son."

"Why do they need to see it? They've already been told. Why isn't knowing the extent of Lucius's perversions enough?"

"Because seeing is proof. It's profound."

"It's the morbid gluttony in people. They're not happy until they've seen all the hidden parts of a person's pain. I won't let pictures of his body get loose in the public."

The evening ended with head throbbing. In court the next day, he waited out the findings while trying his best not to stare at Draco to get him to look at him.

Before the test results were revealed, the prosecution insisted that Draco recount his story of the circumstances in which Iece's conception took place.

Winston held his hands behind his back as he paced in front of Draco. He affected an innocence to his quizzical comment. "It's funny, but when Mr. Potter and Mrs. Malfoy had their very loud 'exchange,' yesterday, he accused her of being present during the incident, while your testimony, Draco, has your father assaulting you as Voldemort and only a few of his followers looked on."

Destiny defended Harry, "Objection. Harry was not on the witness stand and he was speaking out of duress. His statements should not be considered as valid testimony under those conditions."

"Sustained."

"Then lets get him on the stand. But first I want the court to hear Draco's version of the events on that night. I know the results of the tests and I think everything will be clearer to the court if we could clarify some rather significant details before sharing our new evidence with everyone else."

That did not bode well, and the knot in Harry's stomach told him not to show an ounce of panic. What could this guy know? Even if their stories differed, it wasn't proof of anything, just a difference of perspective. He and Draco had been in two different places in that very large room that night, which could account for seeing events unfold in two different ways.

But even as he thought of it, he had to ask himself if he was really trying to trick himself into believing Draco's story? What were they doing? How far were they going to take this?

Take it as far as we have to, Draco's hardened stare drilled into him from across the room.

No matter how well dressed he was, Draco Looked younger, thinner, and more haunted than he could help showing. His mouth tensed around his attempt to speak of that night. He gave the court what it wanted, explicit details. He told the story he'd rehearsed, but it didn't flow smoothly. It came through clenched gut muscles, wavering suppression of emotion, and staunch determination to get it over with.

"The lights were turned down, but I could see people in the room. I was never sure of how many or all of their identities. I was drugged, knowingly, to dull any resistance and feelings. I cooperated because I knew that Voldemort was crazy, and doing what he wanted was the only way we were going to get out of there alive."

The courtroom was so silent, even the air stood still like stagnant vapor. Every ear strained to hear what it also felt uncomfortable to hear.

Harry intended a whispered plea. Please don't, Draco.

"It was set up like a ceremony, a ritual. I never knew the magical side of it, or what the ritual was supposed to do. I did as I was instructed to do. Lie there and let it happen. My body had already undergone the transformation and I told myself that there was nothing more harmful they could do to me, except kill me. And I didn't mind dying. But I couldn't leave my parents like that. So I disassociated. After months of dealing with symptoms of the curse, I knew how to relax into the worst of it. When my body is changing, the tissue actually swells and feels feverish. It doesn't feel like my flesh. It feels as if clay could become hot with its own veins and blood supply. Unnatural sensations take place. I used to grit my teeth through the pain all night. So I learned to cope. By the time this happened with my father, I only had to keep calm and not lose my mind while it was happening. It took place on the floor."

Here, tension cut a deep grove between his eyebrows. An instant of pain marred his face before he concealed it.

Harry could feel him editing the memory as he spoke, using himself as the spectacle writhing on the floor, instead of the way it really happened. Draco couldn't seem to tell the story unless he could rationalize what he had to say. This hooked in his critical thinking, and all the judgments that came with it, until he hit a wall of remorse. Harry saw it. While everyone else must've assumed that Draco's shame was getting the best of him, and his pace came to a halt, Harry knew that the truth was what was bringing him to his knees.

They all saw the tear drop before being brushed away, and Draco huskily said, "It happened. My father had actually coached me before hand, to go inward and not to allow his touch to matter."

Harry sensed that part to be true. He had stopped judging Draco's relationship with his father, once he realized what psychotic pressures must've been constant in their household. Lucius demanded perfection. Of course nature would have to do backflips to rise up out of that kind of scrutiny. At his most basic level, Draco had been a boy who only wanted his father's love. Add Voldemort to that equation, and something as delicate and specialized as adolescent sex, would inevitably go awry in the worst way. That wasn't anyone's business. It could be said that locking a kid under the stairs and starving it, was no better a perversion, and just as disgusting treatment. There are some horrors in people's pasts, that don't hold their form in the face of rational logic, or even moral logic. That's what makes them horrific, and completely unfathomable to the normal way of thinking.

And right now, Draco was doing a very good job of bridging horror to rational logic, but it still wasn't going to be enough. Harry condemned every last asshole hearing this testimony, who didn't deserve to. These people weren't worthy enough to receive this honest, small, ashamed part of Draco. His love for his father still lived in the details of his words and he walked a fine line between reservation and graphicness, with what integrity he had left.

"Our ability to go through with it was about survival. We knew that something like this was going to happen months in advance. I tried to train myself, in my mind, to keep still beneath his touch. I went to extremes to perform mental tricks, to tell myself that it wasn't hell. When it was over with, I was rewarded with more medication. Probably to get rid of me. I didn't take it. When the show was over and all attention was elsewhere, my father left two house elves in my instruction. They were supposed to take care of me. Well, having gone through all of that, I was so disgusted with Voldemort and everything he was putting my family through, I didn't care the way I had before."

Before he was finished, Harry knew that he himself was going to prison. He lost his mind listening to Draco lie for him, even if it was sprinkled with truths this court could never appreciate. He could no longer stand it. His palms slipped with sweat as he talked himself out of jumping up to stop Draco from lying for them anymore. Doing that would risk a perjury charge and surely send Draco to prison with him. He didn't know when it would happen, but something in him didn't want to fight anymore as it listened to Draco demean himself one last time.

"I suppose I lost it somewhat. I reached my darkest moments, after it took place. I decided to free Harry and the others, I didn't care about my life anymore. I stopped thinking about my family. I gave our elves the order to apparate Harry and his friends out, while I attacked my father. I didn't think I could do anything to harm Voldemort, so I focused on getting Harry and the others out. Fortunately, I made it out myself. It wasn't until weeks later, when we were all in hiding, still on the run, that I began to feel different. Ill. Professor Snape was the one who looked me over and determined the pregnancy. That was that."

While looking at Draco smugly, the prosecutor, said to the court. "Touching. So lets see now if our findings support his story." He introduced a doctor representative of the laboratory blood work done. The small man who came forward looked like a muggle, glasses and tie clip, indicative of orderly and professional credibility. Only the wand, with which he tapped his file open, hinted that he was a mediwizard.

"Results show that Narcissa Malfoy is related to the child by thirty percent of her blood ancestry. The child shares forty percent of its genetic heritage with Draco Malfoy, and sixty-five percent with Lucius Malfoy. While these results are consistent in general family lineage, they show a remarkable anomaly in blood convergence. We were expecting at least an eighty-five percent genetic replication from Draco to his daughter. No birth-father has ever been tested with anything less than an eighty-five percent match. Their magical spectrum show the same correspondence between phenotypes and is therefore consistent with our findings."

"So what does this mean to the court?" Destiny asked.

Winston smirked, as the doctor pointed out, "It means that Lucius Malfoy shares enough traits with the child to be her father, and that Narcissa Malfoy is entitled to claim blood rights. But it doesn't support Draco's biological claim to have given birth to the child at all. We don't understand, he should've passed on his entire genetic print, but she only has the markers for a fraction. The tests suggest that he and the child are siblings, not parent and child."

Winston stepped up. "Are you saying that Draco is not the birth-father of the child?"

The doctor looked baffled. "No test is definitive. She's definitely related to him, but I cannot say with certainty that he gave birth to her. These findings are inconclusive by traditional standards."

Destiny folded her arms and turned to face the courtroom. "You see, standard medical testing can't hold up against a curse this dark and this advanced. The tests prove nothing when it comes to parentage. Your Lord, let the record show that– "

Winston interrupted her, "– that Draco Malfoy has sworn under oath that he is the birth-father of his father's child, and yet his claim is not supported by medical testing."

"Why would he make up a scandal so damaging?" she asked.

"To distract everyone from an even worse scandal, I suppose. Draco's story is inconsistent with his testimony. He stated that he and Lucius were left alone to follow the orders of Voldemort that resulted in the child. But the transcripts of his previous statements, say that there were witnesses in the room. And still yesterday, Harry himself shouted that Narcissa was in the room and she didn't deny it. So which is it? With this many versions of the story, it's a wonder anyone knows who the child belongs to at all."

Draco shouted from his seat, "I told you the people I saw, not those I couldn't see. I didn't see my mother there, maybe Harry did. Death Eaters had him tied up at the other end of the room, how could I know what he was seeing? As for the tests, I was cursed. Iece's conception wasn't normal. You can't expect a routine test to tell you what was really going on that night."

"No, I didn't expect traditional methods to get to the bottom of this. That's why I've done a bit more research into the matter and found far more discerning results on the magical hereditary side of things."

He turned to the judge.

"As I understand it, Your Lord, Mediwizard technology is at its most advanced. But in the field of blood sciences and magical ancestry, our methods pale in comparison to that of our Goblin friends, who control the world's most ancient records of blood heritage and ancestry based magic. After all, they match most families with their house elves, and their records go back farther than modern medical records. Who better to consult on this matter than Goblin authorities?"

Destiny looked caught off guard. A murmur of shock buzzed around the room. Without meaning to, Draco and Harry looked at one another.

"Given the severity of the curse, I thought extra attention to the evidence might be needed," Winston continued. "Fortunately, I was able to consult with an expert witness from Gringotts ancestry division. As everyone knows, Goblins have their own techniques for tracing magical families and tracking bloodlines, for the sake of inheritances. Since Draco's results are no more than conjecture at this point, I would like to call Mr. Todrick to the stand, to clear up this matter."

Recognition of the name, burned to the tip of Harry's mind.

"Objection," Destiny countered. "Goblin experts are not doctors, they're bankers and underwriters, with whom we entrust our assets."

"Yet their methods can be as accurate as those of mediwizards, if not more, in cases of ambiguity. They have ways of testing magic that are kept closely guarded among their kind. And where our tests fall short, theirs are able to extract the smallest modicum of information. Don't we all trust them to keep track of the lawful allocation of our finances and our blood ties? Their methods are protected under the Species Specific Preservation Act, that allows them to keep their secret in order to protect their race and culture from exploitation and dissolution."

"Allowed."

Draco leaned forward, arms stretched over the table. "The curse doesn't care what methods you use. I will show you. I'm willing to take my clothes off and let you see why no test can stand up to what was done to me. Medical tests are created to be ethical and humane. This curse is cruel, ugly, and designed to twist the body's fundamental blueprint into something unrecognizable. Let me show you! I'm willing to let the world see, in order to end this ridiculous trial."

The judge rapped his gavel. "Order, Mr. Malfoy!"

"There is no order here." Draco sneered.

Winston motioned a small goblin to come up. The little man-creature walked with a bowl-legged twaddle, but wore a three-piece suit suggesting successful rank among his banking peers. He was very human looking, with thick brown hair combed away from pointed ears. When he took the oath of honesty, his jagged teeth reminded everyone of the humorless nature of goblins. His unwavering gaze told the whole room that he was only ever accustomed to being taken seriously. He had their attention.

A heavy shadow settled over Harry. It was the goblin he'd met at Gringotts when he had Snape's wand tested. The seat was raised magically, to compensate for Todrick's height.

"Thank you, Mr. Todrick. You've heard the results found with traditional testing. The same samples were released to Gringotts' subsidiary labs, to provide the most comprehensive testing available to us. You yourself supervised the investigation. Please share your findings with the court. And if you would, spell out how they differ from results found with traditional methods."

Todrick slowly looked around the room, as if making sure he had everyone's attention. His hands came together, long fingernails overlapping, until his fingers slid through one another.

He very calmly said, "The blood specialists at Gringotts, are the most thorough in the world. We do not practice medicine, and our methods are barred from the healing arts of wizards because we do not disclose our secrets. Yet when it comes to money, our hereditary accuracy is trusted above all. We were able to duplicate the medical findings discussed here today. We also found Narcissa and the child to be related within the limits of hereditary degree. Her markers fell just within the limit to be the child's grandmother. Magic contributed to that. Whether hers or the child's, we're unsure. By blood alone, they exhibit the relevancy shared by distant cousins. Lucius Malfoy tested with the highest degree, to be the child's father, by both genetics and magic."

Here he paused. His eyes were stern. "When we examined the signature of Draco's blood, his markers gave us one reading, while his magic gave us another. Both showed that he is related to the child, but less so than Narcissa herself. His genetics confirmed only that they share primary markers, and that their magic belongs to the same gene pool. The child's actual genetic signature looks nothing like Draco's. We found no evidence to suggest that Draco gave birth to that little girl."

Groans had hardly burst throughout the room before Todrick raised his finger. "So we looked further into the matter."

Everyone hushed to listen.

"We dug deeper, looking for evidence that the curse itself had corrupted Draco's genetics at their signature levels. We found mutated sectors, or what muggles refer to as DNA. You see, DNA is like sensitive sheets of holographic photo paper, and everything any of us goes through, creates a photo-sensitive impression upon that thin, translucent, slip of biological record. Of course, it's all in it's own language. I suppose, under the world's most powerful microscope, the codes of light can be read and translated into medical terms. The world will get there one day. But us goblins know that emotion is what imprints DNA. Life struggles, all major illnesses, all experience becomes written records encoded into the body itself, and this is how we modify the traits we're born with, the talents, propensities, interests, and pass them on as available genetic options, to our young."

He paused, making them wait.

"This is how we improve the potentials within us. We make demands upon our minds and our bodies, and cause the cells the build under those instructions. Whether we discover the improvements or not, our offspring are born with them hardwired within them. This is what a mother passes onto her child. A birth-father is no different. When the child is born, it's only imprint, is what it's gotten from the parents. This becomes enhanced and alters as the child grows. We expected to see Draco's imprint upon his child. So we took his blood and separated it into its most basic components. We spread out his full biological blood spectrum and peeled the light-codes back on his magic.

"We translated his whole life in the language of light and imprints, and used our magic to read it back to us. On the night in question, when Draco was trapped with his father and Voldemort, his spectrum does indeed go dark, as if his magic shut down, at that time and place. If we dig deep enough, we can match it to a calendar. He experienced trauma that caused a blackout in his magic, that lasted for months. Some mothers experience that, and they weaken magically until they recover. But try as we might, we never saw the imprint that should've passed from father to child."

Everyone looked on, while Todrick appeared thoughtful, "While we were scratching our heads over this, I remembered something. I remembered a visitor to the bank, only two months or so ago, and how his blood might be related to this case."

Harry stopped breathing. He knew what was coming. He spent the next few seconds willing himself to keep his head.

"A visitor?" Winston asked, as if he hadn't already rehearsed the big reveal. "And would you please tell the court who that visitor was."

"Why, Mr. Harry Potter himself. He paid for special services, in blood. We still had the sample, enchanted to stay viable."

"That's a steep price. What service was he asking for?"

"I can't tell you that. I entered into a non-disclosure contract with him as a client. All perfectly legal. We had to break down the magical components of his blood to determine its value."

Winston looked perturbed and cleared his throat. "Very well, so you tested his blood. And?"

"He was with Draco that night, in the mansion, that is. We wanted to see how closely their encoded spectrum recorded the trauma of that night. If they were a close match, we'd have agreement in their stories. We could figure that Draco was telling the truth, to a great extent. But if there was no hint of the same patterned experience over the same dates, we would have to conclude that the birth of the child remains a mystery, perhaps distorted by the effects of the curse, as Draco has stated."

"And your findings?" Winston drawled rather impatiently.

"Harry's blood records and his magic, did not show a similar pattern to Draco's."

Everyone blinked, waiting to understand what that meant."

Todrick said, "It was worse. Where Draco's imprint had gone dim, blotting out all the light of the genetic record, Harry's had gone completely dark. Black. His magic showed a wipeout that, as far as I can tell, he still had not recovered from two months ago. Oh, the bars are not as dark as the twelve months prior, but his magic is still compromised from something that happened exactly thirty months ago. His body recorded trauma on a genetic level, that would be passed on as encoded information, to his offspring. Not trauma, mind you, but the memory-instructions of his experience. The overall pattern of his magical signature looked familiar. We placed it on top of the child's, and found almost an exact match. We were then able to determine that Draco suffered along with Harry that night, but the timelines do not add up. Draco's loss of magic started months ahead of Harry's and has mostly recovered. But he passed none of his major signature onto the child. It's Harry who passed eighty-seven percent of his imprint, his genetic signature, onto the child. Draco is not her birth-father. Harry Potter is."

Murmuring started before he'd even finished his last sentence. Whispers moved like gas throughout the room. The judge hammered distractedly, for order.

Harry glared at Todrick, willing him to die. The little goblin averted his eyes and sat up even straighter.

Draco shouted, "Your tests are no match for this curse!"

Harry kept his eyes forward.

Destiny raised her voice. "Your Lord, with all due respect, the curse itself is a genetic distortion and has ruined any chance of proving that Draco is the birth-father."

Harry would've gotten to his feet sooner, to shut her up, but he couldn't move. He couldn't breathe, as if his rib cage was stuck in a vat of cement. Something clamped tight around his heart and lungs, and twisted. He didn't see others turning to look at him, to question the sweat pouring down his temples, or the way he struggled to get up. He only knew that it was time to speak up. He couldn't let Draco lie for him any longer. But every joint in his body braked to keep him from doing it. He pushed past the pain, gripping the bench in front of him, and pulling himself up.

"Stop it!" He yelled at Destiny, at Draco, at everyone. "Stop dragging him through this." He looked at Narcissa. "Are you happy now?"

Her silent stare was defiant.

Harry tried to speak as clearly as he could over the judge's gavel. He shook as he held onto the bench in front of him. "Everything Draco has told you, is true. Except for one thing. I made him do it. I made him cover up for me and we never admitted it to our solicitors because I couldn't live with it. Voldemort did force him to do unspeakable things with his father, but it played out differently. I was the one attacked that night, with the same curse. Draco had been living with it for months. I was the one used and tortured that night, and I thought I'd die if anyone found out. It happened in front of all the Death Eaters, my friends, Narcissa, everyone. I barely survived the curse, but it was the humiliation that destroyed me. I forced Draco to never tell a soul, and to say that she was his."

Draco shouted, "That's not true! He didn't force me to do anything. I did have sex with my father."

"Stop it. It's too late to save me. With any mercy, you'll do less time than me, and you can still take care of her."

Harry looked from Draco to Destiny, to the judge. "I am Iece's birth-father. I tried to cover it up. The only lies we told, were the ones having to do with her biological parentage. I was cursed, same as Draco. But I didn't have his courage. I let everyone think that I'd stepped up to play her father, to help her and Draco. But in reality, he was the one helping me and her. I didn't know how to cope. I didn't know how to face the truth, so I didn't let Draco reveal it. Not to anyone. And that's the truth. Iece is my biological daughter."

The court exploded in shock that could not be silenced any longer. The judges gavel went ignored. Narcissa appeared to have strong words with her solicitor. Draco looked torn between getting up to go to Harry and remaining in his seat, where one of his legal team kept a hand on his sleeve. Arthur and Molly Weasley willed strength to Harry from their seats. Ron tried to hold Hermione, but she was braced against the bench in front of her, whispering, "It's okay, Harry," through empathetic tears.

No one heard it against the bustle of journalists and public outcry. "He's been lying for over two years," someone was heard to say. "Lied! The great Harry Potter is as untrustworthy as old Voldy, himself," cried another.

The room could not process it. "He was lying all this time? He let it ruin Draco's image. It ruined Draco's life. What sort of person would do that?"

It took half a dozen threats from the judge, a wand-waving bailiff, and the removal of several incensed wizards and witches who wanted to rip Harry apart right there, before the crowd settled down. By then, Destiny was awarded a break in the proceedings, that allowed everyone to talk privately with their clients and regroup. But before dismissing the room, the judge acknowledged that Harry's admission was irreversible and that he had incriminated himself in such a way that he could not let Harry walk out in total freedom. They all knew what was coming.

The last photos taken of Harry that day, were of him being cuffed by an official and escorted out of the courtroom by two aurors, as Draco, Narcissa, the Weasleys, and Ron and Hermione looked on.


A/N: For the record, Draco's body is beautiful. :-)