Hermione pulled at the sleeve of her light blue floral printed dress, adjusting it on her arm. She wore it, wanting to look nice today. For him.
She sat in the stalls of the Ministry's interrogation chambers, waiting. Today was Scabior's sentencing and she wanted to be there. Even if she could not sway the wizards, she wanted to try and to show him she hadn't just left him alone. Her heart was pounding and she fidgeted nervously. There had been two sentences for two prisoners already heard. And she knew alphabetically, Scabior would most likely be next.
The Forewizard, a thin man in his fifties stood as the last prisoner was escorted out of the interrogation chair. "The Ministry calls Nicolas Scabior for sentencing."
Hermione's heart leapt into her throat, she was so nervous. She was seated so she would face him as directly as she could be, adjacent to the witches and wizards of the Wizengamot who voted on sentencing, off to the side of center. She heard shuffling footsteps.
She let out an indrawn breath when she saw him. His hair was longer, but he was clean shaven. She frowned at his striped uniform from Azkaban. It was ragged and tattered and almost surely not warm enough.
The corners of her mouth lifted in a smile as she felt a great sense of relief. Somehow, seeing him with her own eyes had reinforced that he was still alive and well.
He turned to sit in the chair and she cleared her throat. Looking up towards the noise, his eyes locked on her. He was so stunned he took a small step backwards, almost tripping over the chair bottom as the corner of his mouth quirked up and his eyes lit. She smiled at him and managed a tiny wave in his direction. He sat, bringing his hand up slightly to acknowledge, not taking his eyes from hers.
When the court addressed him, of course he did look away. It was then she noticed his face was more drawn, maybe slightly thinner. She wondered if he was being mistreated. Godric, it was so good to see him with her own eyes.
The Interrogator, a rotund man around the same age as Scabior, stood and addressed him.
"Nicolas Scabior, please stand."
He did.
"Do you understand that today you will be sentenced for additional crimes?"
"Yes, I do."
"In the matter of the abduction of Hermione Granger, how do you plead?"
"Guilty."
"In the matter of deliberately escaping from controlled custodial questioning while at Hogwarts, how do you plead?"
Scabior hung his head, dejectedly.
"Guilty."
"In the matter of a purposeful and prolonged absconsion from an existing sentence at Azkaban, how do you plead?"
He shut his eyelids tightly and slowly moved his head to the side, while still tilting downward. Hermione kept her eyes locked on him.
Why wasn't he making eye contact with her? Why wasn't he fighting back on any charges?
Just then, he lifted his head. He looked at Hermione, his eyes knitted together, and she swore she saw a glaze over his eyes as if they were wet. Her stomach lurched when she heard him say the word, "Guilty."
"Wait!," she cried, standing up, their eyes still locked together.
"Excuse me, madam-," the Interrogator started.
"I know that legally I am allowed to petition the release of this prisoner."
The Interrogator moved to open his mouth, but before he could get a word out, Hermione continued.
"I'm Hermione Granger, and Nicolas Scabior is my child's father."
There was some twittering from the Wizengamot at the admission. While everyone knew about it, petitioning release of prisoners was not generally understood by the general public. No one had known Hermione Granger would have gone to such lengths to do research; research that was not easy to find. Or that she would be appearing in court on behalf of her captor. When the hushed speaking waned somewhat, Hermione continued.
"I would like to petition the council that the prisoner, Nicolas Scabior, be released fully."
"Miss Granger, would you please come down here?," the Interrogator said.
"Gladly." Hermione rose and moved quietly down the large steps to the floor level as all watched intently. Perhaps none so intently as Scabior, who's mouth had quirked up on one side. He couldn't believe she was coming to his defence, and all with accurate knowledge. He almost laughed to himself as he thought, 'of course she has, my little know-it-all.'
He saw her look at him, her eyebrows knitting together in concern.
"Are you alright," she asked him. He nodded as the Interrogator spoke to Hermione. "Miss Granger, you will not address the prisoner, but the Wizengamot, is that clear?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes, quite."
A chair was magicked and appeared behind her as she and Scabior both sat, next to each other, her on his left, facing the Wizengamot.
"Now, Miss Granger, Mister Scabior has perpetrated several heinous crimes-"
"And it is my understanding he cannot be tried for the same crime twice."
The Interrogator stopped for a moment, quizzically looking at her and then back to the foreman of the Wizengamot. How had she known so much about the judicial system?
Begrudgingly, he turned back towards her.
"You are correct, of course."
"Of course", Hermione said.
Since she and Scabior were nearly shoulder to shoulder, she couldn't see him put his head down to hide his smirk, but she swore she could feel it. As well as the heat radiating off of him and onto her.
"That leaves the other problems of-"
"As I myself am the 'victim' of at least one of these crimes, namely abduction, and I refuse to pursue charges against Mister Scabior. Therefore, I move that we drop that item entirely."
She heard Scabior let out a hiss of breath and hang his head. She wasn't sure but she thought he was trying not to laugh. Fire lit her eyes. She was on a roll.
The Interrogator, rather flustered, spoke, "I will confer with the Wizengamot," before walking over to the foreman while the council broke out in hushed conversation.
Hermione looked over at Scabior who looked back at her amusedly. They locked eyes and he gave her a saucy wink. She smiled at him. It was so good to see him again. A voice broke their gaze and startled her back to reality.
"The Wizengamot does not object to dropping the charge of abduction."
She heard Scabior let out an indrawn breath. Poor man, she could only guess his nerves had been hamstring taut. He was relaxing.
"I would also bring before the court the fact that prisoner release is conditional upon three items, and a fourth item which I will also introduce. Petitions are based on several factors, the first of which is 'Severity of Crimes'. As Mister Scabior's primary motives for absconding from custody and eluding capture were both to be able to reach me to speak of and plan for our child's birth, I believe these can be dismissed entirely as well."
"No," the Interrogator stated. A thin woman in her forties moved over to his side and gently touched his arm. The two of them conferred privately for a few moments. She returned to her seat and the Interrogator resumed speaking with Hermione.
"Nicolas Scabior at that point was a convicted prisoner, a dangerous man, and as you are not the only person involved, the Wizengamot declines to overturn this conviction."
Hermione's eyes narrowed and she continued. "Then I would like to call attention to item two, 'Good Behaviour'. Nicolas Scabior has exhibited exemplary behaviour since being back in Azkaban. And also item three, 'Familial Obligations'. Mister Scabior is now a father, of my child, and I cannot raise my child alone, either financially, physically or mentally. So I would petition his release based on these items."
The Interrogator narrowed his eyes at her, obviously annoyed.
"In addition," she started, her voice catching slightly as Scabior saw a furious blush break out across her features. She stopped speaking but resumed again. "Additionally, spouses are entitled to….'Marital Favours.'..," her voice trailed off for a moment, absolutely horrified at having spoken those words aloud. "Though Mister Scabior and I are not married, we have a child together so obviously…," she looked down again, her face as red as a beet, as she squirmed in her seat. "Well, what I mean to say is, we would also like include 'Marital Favours' for consideration in the petition."
The Interrogator cleared his throat and looked up at the other witches and wizards. He was silent for a moment.
"The court will confer," he said, turning back to the Wizengamot as again their hushed voices broke out.
Hermione used his moment to reach her right hand over to the arm of Scabior's chair and gently stroke the side of his hand with her pinkie. He stiffened for a moment, turned towards her, and then she saw a look of such unbridled lust come over his features that she stopped, her lips parting. His gaze roamed over her dress, the buttons near the bust line, the skin of her cleavage that was open to his gaze. She felt her breathing speed up. He followed the buttons down the front of her dress to her stomach…lower…then, his eyes slowly traveled back to hers and he smirked, which made her clench in her very core.
She didn't know how he was always able to disarm her so. With a look or a glance. He was so deliberate in how he moved; how he did everything really, that she couldn't help be reduced to a quivering mass of nerves when he decided to look at her a certain way. How she wished he would jump up from the chair, pin her to hers and just take her, the council be damned…
They looked at each other for a long time, obviously fixated on the 'Marital Favours' she had spoken of.
The voice of the Interrogator broke them out of their reverie.
"We have discussed your Petition-,"
"I should also note, as per request, that I have it in writing," Hermione stated, reaching for her purse and procuring the letter immediately. The Forewizard strode to her and took the letter, moving to the clerk, a young man in his early twenties with a moustache. He gave the clerk the letter.
"Please have that entered into the record," the Interrogator said. He turned back towards Scabior.
"Mister Scabior, you will please stand again for sentencing."
Scabior stood, slowly.
