There was hardly any work left. You did so well" Colin could hear that his mum was impressed, and it made him proud.
The headmaster's office was a real mess, books were everywhere, some closed, some opened, but in the middle was a huge family tree, Rina, Colin and Lizzie had prepared. They had glued several leaves together and it was about the only thing that looked tidy. The reason it looked tidy was rather frustrating though. They had gone back to the time of the conquest, when the Malfoys had come over from France with the wizarding counsellor of William the Conqueror and there were only five possibilities.
"To be quite honest, our grandmother had already covered everything up to the 1750s.", Lizzie said.
"Do you know, when this whole pureblood rubbish started?" Colin asked. "Judging from the family trees and how the sacred 28 intermarried so often, I would say, that it goes well back into the 15th century. Before that there are different names, at least occasionally."
Mum shook her head. "I have no idea, Colin. I've always concentrated more on dismantling pureblood ideas than studying them. Your dad might know, but then listening to purebloods you would think they practiced their traditions since Adam and Eve."
"It's almost lunchtime. We could make a break and discuss the possibilities with dad," Colin suggested. He wanted to squeeze in a question of his own that had nothing to do with the Malfoy family.
"Do you want to go to the Great Hall for lunch?" Mum asked. She looked around and decided not to disturb the books, they had leafed through in the last hours, but sat on the ground. "If you'd rather not, we can always sneak down to the kitchen and ask Prudy if she'll get us something.
"We can't do that, mum," Lizzie said. "My housemates will have my head, if all these questions remain unanswered."
"There are more questions? You want us to sit with the Hufflepuffs again? Your father is going to have a fit about all these private questions."
"If he does, I am bound to win a lot of money." Lizzie smiled smugly.
"You bet on dad going off on some of the questions?" Colin could hardly believe his little sister.
Lizzie giggled. "I had to swear that I would not interfere though. Did you not bet at all?"
Colin flushed. "Just about what mum and dad would answer to the 'Dumbledore or Snape' question, and I obviously won that one. I didn't bet any money, though, but I will brag about being right about mum's answer. I can't believe you bet money!"
Lizzie stuck out her tongue.
"I had no idea that the students would be that curious about us."
Lizzie and Colin looked at each other and shook their heads. Sometimes mum could be strangely oblivious to her own fame.
Seeing that his mum had settled down comfortably, Colin fetched the book on elves from his bag, the book that he hardly ever left behind, because the riddle had hooked him well and fast.
He showed the book to his mum. "Mr Fillingham told me, that you were the last person to borrow 'Customs and Conventions of the Common house elves' from the library. Have you any idea, which language this is? I have tried to find out, but I've had no luck so far."
He showed her the strange spidery script, and the gibberish. Mum frowned, took the book, and looked at the cover.
"I remember reading that book in third year, when I was on my S.P.E.W. spree. If I remember correctly it was nothing but rubbish, how elves love to be slaves and all that." She snorted.
She opened the book again. "The cover looks the same, but this is not the book, that I read, I am sure. What does Prudy say?"
"Prudy just had a look at the cover, and vanished."
"If you had some secret information on elves, it would be a good idea to hide it in a doublet in a library." She tapped her lips in thought. "The writing looks so strange. Maybe it is not another language. Maybe someone disguised their writing and wrote code."
She handed the book back to him. "You could try to unlock possible spells on the books. And maybe ask Mr Fillingham if you can take the book with you. We can search in the British library for a language that might fit, and you can ask Luna the next time you see her. Luna and Blaise know many languages."
"That is a good idea." Colin was excited. He would not ask Mr Fillingham though. He would just take the book. Better ask for forgiveness later. Mr Fillingham was very possessive about 'his' books and Colin doubted that he would allow him to take it out of Hogwarts.
Colin had just put away the book, when Professor Greengrass, Rina, uncle Neville and aunt Pansy entered the headmaster's office.
Rina had a spring in her step. "That must have been the best DADA lesson, I've ever had. Not to smarm up to anyone present, but there were so many more students who managed to cast the scutum than in Dawlish' lessons."
Rina went to mum and in an unusual show of affection gave her a hug.
She raised her hand. "Five", she said, bursting with pride. "And five points to Slytherin. We still might make it this year, Colin."
Mum smiled and gave Rina a thumbs up and Colin shrugged. Gryffindor had a rather comfortable lead this year, but he didn't care as much as Rina anyway.
Dad scrutinized the family tree.
"I'm not sure, if I should be impressed by all the work you have got done or gutted by the fact that this does look far too tidy to be promising."
He gave mum a quick peck on the cheek. "Care to give me the intermediate results?"
"Where is Professor Flitwick?", professor Greengrass asked.
"Fled," mum answered. "Leaving us with the portraits who have long started snoring or who have fled as well. Genealogy is really a very boring subject."
She walked around the spread papers. "So, no younger brothers to the heir up to the 1750s, and before that up to the Conquest the cadet lines always died out after a generation or two, apart from the one time, where the older heir died in a quidditch match without issue, and the younger brother continued the line"
Dad scoffed. "Makes you wonder about brotherly love, inheritance squabbles gone awry and the pruning of the family tree"."
Mom did not comment on that. Colin wondered why dad always suspected the worst.
"That leaves the women, not too many of them either, there is Euphemia Malfoy who married a Theodore Nott in 1788. There is Xanthippe Malfoy who married a Perseus Black in 1681, Lysistrata Malfoy and Frederic Greengrass in 1562, Lucille Malfoy and Earnest Abbot in 1438, Ludmille, not be mixed up with her twin Lucille who married Stan Sloane twenty years later in 1458, and…. " she made a dramatic pause, "there is an Adelaide Malfoy who married an Aethelwulf nicknamed 'the Weasel' in 1071."
Uncle Neville laughed. "Weasleys on the side of the Anglo-Saxons, and Malfoys on the side of the Normans. Did you know it went that far back, Draco? I bet that marriage was a disaster."
"You'll hear no objection to that theory from me," dad answered.
Mum chided them. "You don't know that. Adelaide might have been a French ethereal beauty who tamed the Anglo-Saxon, who was uncouth but honest. Even you might like that story, Malfoy."
"Hermione," dad said.
"Yes, honey?". She smiled innocently. "We still have to double-check these, of course. Nott is the best option. Not only is Theodore quite often the name of the heir, but it's also the closest in time."
"And Theo desperately needs the money on top of Nott villa and his meagre earning from the books he writes." Dad commented wrily.
"We have to check if Perseus Black was the Black heir, but the Black heir today is obviously Harry."
"Potter is also in desperate need of money I hear," Dad joked. Colin was not sure, if he really thought it was that funny.
"But Potter is not the biological heir," Rina put in.
"I doubt the magic would accept him," Aunt Pansy argued. "Harry is at the Manor occasionally, and he never said anything about a magical connection. He would feel that, wouldn't he?"
"Potter visits the Manor occasionally? Occasionally?" Dad's voice sounded quite irritated.
"I do as well, Draco, ever since January, since I learned about the curse, as does Luna. A curse you never mentioned, I might add. So, your mother is well-informed about you and your family. As well as we all are able to." Aunt Pansy shook her head at dad.
"We wrote her on behalf of the Hogwarts students to thank her for the donation to the library." Rina put in. When she saw dad's eyes widening, she added. "without giving names obviously."
"Will you stop talking so openly about this," Professor Greengrass interrupted, her voice raised.
She took a breath. "I mean we're at Hogwarts, in the headmaster's office, still, just be careful. One could think you're bloody Gryffindors."
"Some of us are, Astoria." Uncle Neville sounded amused. "Luna could ask Hannah on Earnest Abbot and his issue," he suggested.
"Why don't you ask her yourself. I thought you were on speaking terms." Dad wanted to know.
"Yes, but nobody ever denies Luna." That was true enough.
"No chance at approaching the Sloanes," mum said. "Even Luna couldn't do that. But we tackle that, after we have checked the other options."
"Could you ask the Weaselette to look into Perseus and possible issue as well as the uncouth Anglo-Saxon?" Dad had turned to mum.
Mum licked her lips. "That sort of stretches our usual arrangement, but she owes me for Luna's party. I'll write her."
"I can cover the Greengrass marriage," the charms professor said. "I'll ask my sister. I wanted to ask a favour anyway and you might kill two birds with one stone that way."
The Professor fidgeted in such a manner, like Colin had never seen her do before.
"Daphne wants to meet Ellie, and she invited us for tea, the day after Easter, when Ellie has a bank holiday and we don't have school. And I wondered if you would want to come as well, that is you and the children, so that Ellie doesn't feel overwhelmed by all these strange wizarding people."
"So, Ellie would get some kind of semi-muggle backing and we can have a look at the Nott and Greengrass connections? Tit for tat? But would they want us? I haven't seen Theo since Pansy's and Neville's wedding." Dad frowned.
"Only if Nott swears on his honour that he has disenabled all Muggle, Muggleborn and Half-Blood traps in the house."
"He's done that ages ago." Professor Greengrass shrugged. "That shouldn't be a problem."
Dad and mum exchanged this look they had when they seemed to discuss something just by glances.
"We'll come and give you a car-ride. That way Ellie won't have to side-along or floo or something that might stress her."
"Is there a library at Nott villa?" Colin wanted to know.
Dad laughed. "Always asking the important questions."
"That is not true," Lizzie complained loudly. "The more important question is, when we will finally go and have lunch."
"You go on," Dad said. "I'll stay and try to chat with Severus Snape and join you later."
Notes:
Another present time chapter... Genealogy is a tough subject, so I sought to make it entertaining...
Chapter 57: DADA lesson
Summary:
The third years get a lesson, Colin included.
Chapter Text
Lizzie won her bet about dad being annoyed about the series of questions, which did not surprise Colin at all. His loved his parents, but he had known for quite some time, that patience was not among their virtues. At least dad had not gone off. He had just switched into a sarcastic mood, when he was asked if living as a muggle was 'unbearable' which obviously was still enough for Lizzie to win her bet.
Mum asked dad about his chat with Snape's portrait, and dad snapped out of his sarcasm.
"Severus was really rather sloppy with this. I mean I understand, it was all done in great haste…. I don't remember our talks because I stored them away and he doesn't remember them because he just put his knowledge on Potter, horcruxes and apparently Lily Evans into the portrait."
He laughed. "It made conversation about mutual memories awkward, to say the least. But it also made him ask about you, and our marriage."
"I think, he might be jealous," dad whispered. "He ranted about your general swottiness, that he's heard what a nuisance our children are, if we did try to get a Quidditch team of our own, and then he asked if we are happy."
"What did you answer?", mum asked. "That you can tolerate our life?"
He gave mum a peck on the cheeks. "How well you know me."
The third years were the last students to get a demonstration of the scutum. They would not cast the spell itself, which was far too advanced for third years, but would learn the theory.
Aunt Pansy, Uncle Neville and Professor Greengrass took turns to show the students how a scutum felt and Colin could see in their faces how exhausting it was, even though they only ever held the scutum for a few seconds, as long as it took the students to try casting a charm. His godmother also showed them that a scutum could be tied off when it was applied to inanimate objects. The wand wave was complicated, but Professor Greengrass assured them, that they would repeat this every year.
Several students were allowed trying to spell the objects that had been put under the scutum. But of course, nobody succeeded. Colin shook his head at his classmates. It said so on page 95 of their DADA book after all. Although it would be quite an achievement if someone were to find a way to go past a scutum.
Then the students could test to fire hexes and jinxes to their heart's content. Dad was thoroughly amused by that part of the lesson. He taunted the students to have a go at 'hexing a villain'. Colin held back, hoping that time would be up before it was his turn. When he was the only one left, he refused though.
"I'm not going to hex you, dad," he told his father.
"Lizzie and Rina did."
"That's because Rina would never miss an opportunity to test some elaborate hexes with an official permit and Lizzie had a bet with her housemates on which class would get the most hexes thrown at you."
"Well, that explains some things. Wouldn't that mean that your class is at a disadvantage, if you don't hex me?"
"It's an inner Hufflepuff bet, dad, and it wouldn't work for any of the others. The classes do the counts themselves, and every other house would just cheat about the numbers, even Gryffindors."
Colin looked at the Hufflepuffs with suspicion. "I'm not sure about the Hufflepuffs either."
He only got snickering as an answer.
"I am really appalled at the lack of proper education here at Hogwarts, Neville. You should teach your students that the most important thing about bets is to set the conditions to prevent cheating."
"You mean, to set the conditions in such a way, that they seem to prevent cheating. And then let the Slytherins come up with a way of how to cheat anyway." Uncle Neville's face was straight, but Colin could see the twinkle in his eye.
"That is the general idea."
Then came the part of the lesson, Colin had hoped would be cancelled. Questions. Uncle Neville was a big fan of questions and Professor Greengrass always had a way about guiding the students to the answers. It made their combined lessons a huge success, but Colin wished, that this part would be omitted today.
Rachel, bless her, was the first to raise her finger.
"Unc… I mean, Mr Malfoy, is it true that you found the wand movement to tie off the scutum?"
"Yes, I did. I wanted to protect my memory store from being used by others."
"Mr Malfoy, did you ever try to brew Phoenix Potion again?"
"No, I'm banned from potion brewing. And since I remember only bits and pieces, I might not manage without my notes."
"Mr Malfoy, was it exciting to work as a double agent?"
"No, not at all. I lived in constant fear."
"Mr Malfoy, do you have any idea how Severus Snape perpetuated the spell he put on you?"
"Mr Malfoy, do you feel anything, when a spell hits the scutum?"
"Do you still feel your magic?"
"Do you miss magic?"
On and on it went, and Colin was surprised, that dad did answer with a semblance of patience, even though some of the questions were so stupid that Colin could not stop himself from shaking his head. He would never get it. Why didn't his classmates ever read a book in advance? It would save so much time. Colin knew all the answers, and not because he was living with his dad and had personal experience with his scutum.
"Mr Malfoy, are you aware that Severus Snape meant this spell for Voldemort and do you think it would be an appropriate punishment instead of a sentence to prison?" Colin's head jerked up at that question. That had been Richard Weasley. He scowled at the back of his classmate's ginger head.
Dad's face gave nothing away though. "I know that Severus Snape developed this to contain Voldemort, Mr Weasley, and believe me, I am well aware of the irony. No one has ever been able to reproduce this permanent scutum, so your question is simply theoretical. Even in theory I do not think it would be appropriate though. It does not allow for the possibility of 'error of justice', as my wife could explain to you in length. And thankfully, criminals nowadays tend to be much less dangerous than Voldemort."
"So, you do allow for possible 'errors of justice'. Was your own trial an 'error of justice'?", James Potter asked.
"I was acquitted because of 'in dubio pro reo'. I don't see how this would be an error of justice."
"You were acquitted because your wife blackmailed my father into giving testimony on your behalf."
The class fell silent. For the fracture of a second Colin could see that dad was taken aback by this claim. It really surprised Colin that dad did not seem aware of this rumour. Colin had heard it often enough. Until now, he had always filed it under the 'amortentia' header close to the one that read 'mum and dad stay only together because of the house elves'. He wondered, if there might be a kernel of truth to it, after all.
"Well, for once I am not quite sure, if 'testimony on my behalf' describes accurately what your father did. Furthermore, I was not privy to any of the talks your father and my wife had during my trial. So, I wouldn't know."
James Potter's face was set in a scowl. "Are you telling me, that my father invented that?"
"No, I am telling you, that I cannot possible give reliable testimony to back up or refute your claim."
James Potter's face became flushed and he looked embarrassed like Colin had never seen him before.
"James," Uncle Neville's voice held a soft warning.
He did not heed it. "Well, my father was there, and this is what he told us."
"You know, Mr Potter, I could well believe that, if it were not for the fact that it would have meant my wife's licence." Dad's smile did not exactly reach his eyes. "To me, this seems to be a clear case of 'si no e vero e ben trovato' as the Italians say which loosely translates as 'might as well be true, even though it can't be proven'. Because my wife is that bitch."
The students stared at him, surprised about the rude word. Colin was alarmed.
"It's spelled bee – dot – itch," dad said. "It's an abbreviation by contraction and it stands for brightest witch."
The tension dissolved into short tittering laughter that Colin joined gladly.
Chapter 58: Final speech of the defence (March 18, 2002)
Summary:
Hermione pleas for Draco's freedom
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Was that enough truth for you, Hermione?" Harry's words rang in her ears and her blood rushed loudly through her ears, drowning out every sound. Her uneasiness, her regret burned in her middle, and she felt as if she had swallowed a thistle that was now sitting directly beneath her heart, poking at her with tiny hot pricks. Harry had told the truth and then some more.
Sloane, the prosecutor, made his case now. Hermione did not listen. She knew what his angle was, and it was unimaginative and traditional, but it was a tale, many would believe, she had to give him that. She looked at her notes that refuted each and every one of Sloane's argument, but she doubted that would be enough now. She would have to find another angle. She stared at her notes, desperately rummaging in her brain for something she could use.
But it was like the day they had been brought to the manor. She looked at the audience and noticed many details and analysed them, but the main problem of how to swing the balance in Draco's favour eluded her. She saw Draco's father scowling at her, Draco's mother was deathly pale. Her own parents whispered to each other, maybe trying to sort out how they could reconcile 'the nice young gentleman' with the obsessive entitled prat Harry had pictured. Ron's face was redder than his hair, and if Hermione was right, his brothers physically restrained him from jumping up. No doubt, he was itching to pummel Draco. Ginny's eyes were round and full of surprise, while Luna was showing Neville something she had written down. She probably would try to adjust her theories to the new revelation.
Hermione could feel Draco's gaze on her. He did not listen to Sloane either, as if his speech were of no consequence. His eyes were glued to her face, as if he wanted to burn her image into his memory to last forever. And Harry, Harry sat there with his arms folded, his mien grimly set, as if he expected her to back down. His face seemed to tell her, that he had not enjoyed any of it, but that it had been necessary. He looked as grim as the day he had broken up with Ginny so that he could go on the Horcrux hunt. Only this time, it was her who would suffer, but Harry did not know that, or at least not to what extent. She wondered what she could have done differently.
She saw all these details, and her thoughts circled around possible explanations for all of them, but when she tried to focus on a way out, her mind drew blanks. The letters in her notes blurred before her eyes, and she was sure, that the argument she had crafted so carefully would crumble. Her first case, a case of the utmost importance for her and her representation for the defence was rubbish, turned obsolete. All too soon, the prosecution had finished, coming to the conclusion that the defence had tried to paint a criminal as a repentant defector, and the judge called upon her to argue against it.
Hermione stood and for what felt like a sliver of infinity, the ground seemed to give way under her, and her nerves threatened to pull her under. All eyes were on her and she vividly remembered how helpless she had felt when Bellatrix Lestrange had raised her wand to torture her. For seconds, she thought she would drop down on the floor and begin to talk gibberish. She picked up her notes with shaking hands.
She was only half-way through her first paragraph, when she realised that it did not matter what the audience would think, that it did not matter if she looked ridiculous. It mattered whether she did her best. And just like that, her nerves calmed, and she felt as if she had been hit by an ice bucket. An ice bucket of righteous anger. The ground was not shaking any longer.
She shook herself and carefully placed the notes on her table, abandoning them. She took a deep breath.
She looked Harry straight in the eye. "Apparently, my case and my career are in shambles, just because I decided to do the defence. If you think that this means anything to me at all, that my career is more important to me than justice, you do not know me at all. I fought in this war, so that people would not be judged without a fair trial. I fought to bring down a tyrant who arbitrarily killed people who had displeased him for this reason or that, for the wrong blood status, for not fulfilling his orders. Voldemort randomly threatened people with death because he liked to bask in their fear, it made him feel powerful, he pressured people to do his bidding. Tyrants do not do justice, even if they try to give themselves a semblance of being just or merciful or strict, whatever serves their purpose."
Her words seemed to flow on their own.
"If we do not manage to make justice our utmost goal, then it was all for nought. What is my career when justice is at stake? And I want you to ask yourself, what is justice in this case? I have argued that Draco Malfoy defected. That he distanced himself from this 'homicidal maniac' – his words not mine – as much as he could, that he entered an understanding with Severus Snape and worked against Voldemort. The prosecution has argued that Draco Malfoy, the repentant death eater, is an act. The circumstantial evidence the defence produced that backs the accused's claims was ridiculed by the prosecution, most blatantly in the case of Prudy the house elf, whose testimony was declared invalid simply because of her status as a magical being. As if she is somehow less than wizards or witches. The prosecution has argued that Draco Malfoy somehow orchestrated circumstances in such a way, that his guilt could not be proven. I think it interesting, that the prosecution seems to think that Draco Malfoy was a death eater convinced that Voldemort would win and yet made an effort to build up a case for the possibility of him being tried. I assure you, if Draco Malfoy had wanted to plant evidence for his innocence, he would have managed to make it convincing. It is far more reasonable to suppose that he did what double agents should do – which is to not tell anybody, just like he had learned from Severus Snape. Scattering evidence for a possible future trial was the last thing on his mind."
Sloane sneered at her and his face told her, that he thought her arguments to be feeble.
"Draco Malfoy had doubts even before he refrained from fulfilling the task he had been given by Voldemort. He did not want to kill. And that is why he shrank back from killing Dumbledore. I want you to realize that he abhorred killing so much, that he refused to do it, even though it might have meant his own life and his mother's. Severus Snape killed Dumbledore. As we now know this was planned. Dumbledore wanted Snape to be the master of the Elderwand, but in a strange twist of fate, Draco Malfoy became the master of the most potent wand of all."
"And Severus Snape knew. I think this is, why he took the risk to recruit Draco as an ally. Because the Elderwand enhances the wizard's abilities and Mr Malfoy always had a knack for potions, as Professor Slughorn would have known, if had taken the trouble to check the grades of the students he took over from Professor Snape. The prosecution has argued that it would not have been possible to develop a new potion in mere months, that it would not have been possible to cast a scutum for more than five minutes. But as Master of the Elderwand? Even the loss of his wand was as it should have been. The Elderwand was a tricky artefact and its masters lost the wand when they were weakened. As did Draco Malfoy when he was weakened up to the point of almost losing his magic after saving me."
She was almost grateful to Harry for bringing up the Elderwand. She had only just realised how she could further use this in Draco's favour, as an argument that he had brewed Phoenix Potion.
"Let me remind you of the evidence that supports that this is the truth. The testimony of Dr Williams shows that Draco Malfoy hated Voldemort and his arbitrary killings, the testimony of Helena Winters showed that he had successfully brewed Phoenix Potion and used it, the testimony of Narcissa Malfoy showed that it is at least feasible, that Draco Malfoy called Severus Snape as backup with his ring, the moment he realised Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and I had been brought in by snatchers. He clearly recognised us all and yet did his best to buy time. Harry Potter is convinced that Draco Malfoy recognized him. This is all topped by the testimony of the house elf Prudy. Her contract with Hogwarts clearly shows that she is a free elf whose testimony should be worth as much as a witch's. Who knows, how many lives Draco Malfoy saved at the Battle of Hogwarts?"
Hermione looked at the faces of the wizengamot and wondered if her words had made an impact. Surely, many had suspected that this would be her argument in her final speech. She drew a deep breath. Time to take the plunge into deep waters. She was not a Gryffindor for nothing. If she made the scales swing, they might come to a stop in Draco's favour after all.
"When Judge Prewett asked me, if I would take the Malfoy case, I asked him, if I would not be considered biased. And he told me that he had no doubts about my professionalism, that my first case would probably be an easy win. At that time, I thought this to be overly optimistic, but I did not realise that I had been offered the prosecution. I had registered for defence, and I was naïve enough not to realise, that the sentence in the Malfoy case was considered to be a foregone conclusion, that I was offered the prosecution to boost my career, that the bias I should have had as a muggleborn and as someone from the other side of the war was thought to be inconsequential. It was assumed that it would not hurt to have a prosecution with a bias directed against the accused."
"Since I stand here, you can see, that I took the defence, thinking that this was what I was meant to do. Thinking that I had luck to do what I had wanted to do since the moment I learned that he was not dead. Plead for Draco Malfoy's freedom."
Her eyes sought Draco's face and she smiled at him. He was frantically shaking his head. Her smart boyfriend, no husband, knew what she was doing, even if the audience was oblivious.
"You know, I was not the only one to make a mistake. I thought, I was offered the defence, the judge was completely mistaken about the nature of my bias."
Draco stood up and was snapped at by Dawlish who pressed him into his chair again.
"Hermione, don't", he pleaded. "Don't do this to yourself."
"My decision," she told him.
"We agreed on this." He argued.
"Circumstance have changed." Hermione answered him. He closed his eyes and shook his head.
"I will now tell you about my bias, my real bias. Harry Potter has told you about what he calls Draco's obsession with me, how he treated me in school when other people were around. What he does not know, is the other side. He does not know what Draco spoke when we were alone, that his insults had become a façade he put on to hide a secret. I do not just assume that Draco Malfoy had doubts before Dumbledore was killed, I know it. Because he told me all about it in our sixth year as much as he dared to confess, his taking the mark because of his mother, his conviction that he would die because Voldemort did not really mean for him to complete his task."
She ignored Harry's shouts of "He told you, what do you mean, he told you?"
"I told Dumbledore about this and he assured me that all would go as planned. And apart from the minor detail that it was Draco who disarmed Dumbledore, it went as both Voldemort and Dumbledore had planned. Severus Snape killed Dumbledore, with Voldemort none the wiser about Snape's true allegiance and thinking he had bested Dumbledore."
She stopped herself. She would have liked to shout, to rant, that both sides had used teenagers in their war. That Dumbledore could have helped Draco, if he had not been hell bent on his plan. That would not help her case though. It was bad enough, that she went against Harry.
She turned to Harry now. "You only had it half right, Harry. You wondered how Draco made me defend him. The answer to that is, that he did nothing. He did nothing but turn up alive. I wanted to defend him, because I knew better than anyone else that he did not want Voldemort to win. I know that, because he told me between stolen kisses."
Again, she ignored the buzz, Ron shouting in the background, Harry sputtering in surprise.
"This is the truth, the whole truth." Hermione opened her bag and pulled out her marriage certificate.
She straightened her back, looking into the eyes of the judge and the wizengamot. "I am biased, because I am not only completely and utterly convinced that Draco has told nothing but the truth, but I am also biased because as of last Thursday I am his wife, and if you sentence him to Azkaban you should at least know that you not only condemn an innocent man but that you also punish Hermione Granger-Malfoy, you know, one of the few persons who destroyed one of Voldemort's horcruxes."
She placed the certificate on the judge's desk with a loud bang that echoed in the hall.
All hell broke loose after that.
Notes:
More courtroom drama... The good thing about wizarding society is, that I can come up with conditions and rules for trials that would not work in the real world...
And I might have mentioned it before. I absolutely love courtroom drama.
In these crazy times, I hope to give my readers some distractions and entertainment...
Many thanks to my ardent readers who comment and make my day!
Chapter 59: Shadows from the past
Summary:
Draco confronts Hermione about the rumour he heard from James Potter and it turns out that there is something Hermione never told him.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Hermione did not at first realise that something was amiss. They said goodbye to their children and Neville and climbed the Thestrals to fly back to London. The flying made Hermione fidgety and she was so preoccupied with handling her own nerves that she did not note Draco's silence as unusual.
When they had reached their home, Hermione told her parents who had looked after Meg and Robert about their day. For half an hour Monica and Wendell shared what they had done. Robert had apparently gotten into mischief like he always did. He was already in bed, looking like the angel, he most certainly was not. Meg was reading and was put out that her parents had returned because that meant she had to stop.
It was all the usual routine and it was only after Hermione had closed the door behind her parents, that it struck her that Draco had been quiet the whole time.
"Thinking about your ancestors and their stupid one heir policy, Malfoy?" she asked him.
He just shook his head.
"Are you put out that a Weasley might be the heir of the Malfoy fortune?"
He scoffed. She studied him. He was putting away some clothes, that Monica had folded, and did not look at her.
"What is it, love?"
He rummaged in their wardrobe and did not answer at first.
He closed the wardrobe with a thud and turned to her, suddenly, his eyes searching her face.
"I heard a strange story today. James Potter claimed that my wife blackmailed his father into making a testimony on my behalf at my trial. Would you care to explain, why I did not know this, Hermione?"
His voice was not very loud, but it sounded pressed and unnatural, not like Draco at all.
"You know, I was about to protest and deny it, but in a way, it makes far too much sense."
Hermione let herself fall on their bed. She closed her eyes. Her heart beat erratically when she remembered. When she opened her eyes again, her husband's eyes were glued to her face.
"A part of me would very much like it to be nothing but an unjust slander like so many things that are said about us, but it's the truth, isn't it?"
She just nodded.
"Why, Hermione, why?"
"You know why!". She could hear her agitation in her own raised voice. Even after all these years, the memory hurt. It hurt. "I did not want you to go to Azkaban. I did not see a way. Harry had refused to see reason. After Ron had given his testimony, I had talked with Harry every day. Every fucking day. And he would not listen. He just wouldn't listen. He, and Ron, and almost all of them, made bets on how many years you would get, they made theories about what had happened, and they were not willing to even entertain the idea, that you spoke the truth. Even after I had showed them the scutum, even then, they insisted that I misremembered. That you made it all up, that I had been duped."
Tears sprang to her eyes. "I had saved his arse more than once and he would not do me the favour of just telling the simple truth!" Her voice had become very loud.
"I know why you did it, Hermione. But why didn't you tell me? Why? All these years, I thought …." His voice was hoarse. "All these years, I thought they had given me the benefit of the doubt, because Potter confirmed, that I recognized him, but even that …. "
"Why are you angry at me then, Draco?" Hermione wanted to know. Tears were springing into her eyes. "I was desperate."
"I'm angry because you did not tell me!" He had become louder. "I might not have been declared innocent or a defector, but at least I was not guilty either. Or so I thought. And Potter…. "
"That is exactly, why I did not tell you. Your trial was unfair enough. You should have been fully acquitted." she shouted back.
"And not telling me, made that better how?" he roared. "You had no right to keep that from me. My dear Hermione."
"When should I have told you?", she yelled. Hermione tried to get through to him. "I didn't even want to think about the trial during our honeymoon. And then you were framed with that bloody cauldron. I really should have ignored the contact ban then, just to tell you that I cheated to get you free, my dear Draco? That there was a chance that your trial would be re-opened? I'm sure that would have been so encouraging."
"Well, anytime, after we reunited, would have been soon enough, I guess, my dear Hermione" Draco told her. She hated when he fled into sarcasm, probably because she did the same.
"How can I cover for you if I do not know?" He bent forward, his voice loud and intense. "What if someone decides to look at the fact, that Hermione Granger pressured a witness in her very first case? It's not yet twenty years, it could still cost you your licence. And my trial could still be re-opened, my dear. And Potter…."
"Mum, dad?" Meg suddenly was in the door or their bedroom, standing on one foot and then on the other, the way she did, when she was barefoot. Her hair stuck out at one side. She must have slept already. "Are you fighting?"
Draco glowered at the interruption. "We are in the middle of a discussion, Meg, go back to bed," he told her curtly.
"It doesn't sound like a discussion." Meg's voice sounded small and frightened. "When you discuss, you call each other Malfoy and Granger. You just said, 'my dear Hermione', dad. You never say that. That means it's serious and you fight."
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again. She hoped she did not look as flabbergasted as Draco did. She reached out to Meg, but their daughter stood rooted.
Draco inhaled slowly, and the silence became awkward, as they both searched for words.
"You're right, Meg," Draco finally said. "We fight. Couples fight, you know."
"You don't need to be afraid." Hermione added. "Sometimes it is necessary to fight, to sort things out." She smiled ruefully. "And you know we both have a temper."
Meg looked at them with huge eyes. Draco took a few steps. "Come, I'll tuck you in again, and I promise we won't shout again."
He took Meg's hand and turned to Hermione. "I'll go out for a short walk, and get my thoughts sorted, o.k.?"
Meg ran to her and hugged her, and Hermione nodded to Draco, mutely. Her thoughts needed some sorting as well.
Draco's walk turned out to be not so short after all. Hermione had already drunk two mugs of tea to calm herself and to keep awake. She sat on her side of the bed, fully clothed, mug in hand, when he returned. He was sweaty, he must have been running instead of walking, and Hermione was tempted to chide him for not having changed into suitable shoes at least.
He sat on the edge of her mattress and gestured at the mug. "Another one?"
She shook her head. "I had too much already."
She gestured at him. "Shower first?"
"I think, I first want to hear what really happened. I might need a cold shower after that."
She told him then. She had gone to Grimmauld the morning before the last day of his trial, in her last attempt to convince Harry about his testimony. In a muggle trial she would not have been allowed to see Harry, but wizarding law had its perks. There was a bunch of Gryffindors at Grimmauld, including Ron and that had not helped Hermione's mood. It did not help either that Neville delayed her in the entrance hall, in the vain attempt to hide the fact that George Weasley was acting as bookie for the bettings on the Malfoy trial. She had told Harry that she needed to talk to him. He had refused at first and told her that there was no need to reiterate, but had taken notice when she had told him that there was something important, something he needed to know.
Hermione remembered it clearly. They had gone to a separate room and Hermione had cast quick wards so that they would neither be interrupted nor heard.
'What is it you need me to know' Harry asked.
She had raised her wand and cast a scutum on him.
'Try to do magic', she told him, standing deliberately relaxed.
Harry paled.
'Just try it', she said with bared teeth.
Harry took his wand, and nothing happened.
'When you stand in the courtroom tomorrow, I want you to remember that feeling,' Hermione said. 'and try to imagine how it would be to have that feeling for the rest of your life.'
The betrayed look on Harry's face hurt. Hermione steeled her heart against that look.
'Because if you do not tell the truth tomorrow, you will be subjected to my newest discovery.'
'You found out how Snape did it?'
Hermione raised an eyebrow. 'Like it's hard?'
She stopped casting the scutum, deliberately evening her breath, as if it had been nothing at all. She turned one last time at the door. 'Remember, Harry, the truth.'
"You bluffed," Draco said. "You bloody bluffed." He let himself sink at her side.
"I always knew, you're a snake at heart. Bloody ruthless." He snorted. "And then Potter dug up my sketches and told the truth, the whole truth. Or what he thought was the truth."
She nodded.
"He must have suspected you bluffed."
"Or he thought I would not go through with my threat. He followed the letter of my request after all."
They were silent for a while. Hermione studied her hands.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Hermione looked up. "It is not, as if we had no other problems to think about. I wondered if I would ever get a client, you were disinherited…"
"You shouldn't pretend that we thought about anything but sex during our honeymoon." They both had to laugh.
"Please, Hermione," Draco said. "Don't evade. Tell me the truth. Why did you not tell me?"
Tears were running down her face. "You were so happy. And I felt guilty. I did not want to think about it and I'm quite good at blocking out. I knew I served Harry a wrong turn… He was my friend. I should have given him the chance to do the right thing. But the truth is, I did not see another way, and even in hindsight I don't see, how I could have salvaged our friendship and ensure he told the truth at the same time."
She took a shuddering breath. "Part of me wanted to make it up to you. Make it up to you, that I left you to fight with Harry after we escaped the Room of Hidden Things. Part of me knew that I would have to risk everything if I wanted to keep you. I would do it again, and it frightens me. I see a problem, and I find a solution, and then I just do it. The truth is, that I am ruthless. And I shied away from you realising how ruthless I really am."
She suppressed another sob. "I often wonder, what would have happened, if I had told Ron and Harry about us from the beginning."
"We will never know. It might have gone even more terribly." He handed her a tissue. "Judging on how Potter's and Weasel's reaction to our marriage was. Just imagine someone bringing up that cauldron during my trial. It could have meant ten years at Azkaban."
"Or Ron might never have proposed to me, if he knew I had feelings for you. And then Harry would not have been so hell bent on proving to the world and me, that I had been duped by you. They might not have fallen for that bloody cauldron."
She began to cry again, and he moved closer and held her then.
"What I did was entirely wrong. On so many levels. The world should be grateful, that I did not become minister of magic."
He stroked her back, shushing her. "If you expect me to agree that it was terrible you saved me from Azkaban, you're going to wait quite some time."
He bent his mouth to her ear, nibbling on her earlobes.
She freed herself from his arms. "It was still wrong."
He nodded. "Yes, but Potter lying to get me into prison would have been wrong as well."
"He might not have lied."
"But you did not want to risk it."
She nodded. "I did not want to risk it."
He pulled her closer again. "We are old enough to know, that it is complicated, and we cannot do more than try. And maybe do not cross some boundaries."
She settled against him, sighing, glad about a weight lifted she had not even known was still there.
"Why did Potter never tell on you?"
"Well, the whole Amortentia business happened and Harry and Ron were convinced that everything I had done had been under influence of Amortentia. They were prepared to forgive me for everything most nobly and generously."
She snorted. "By the time that was out of the way, I had made a name for myself in all the house elf cases. And nobody believed in the Amortentia crap any longer, not really. He knew I pressured him, and I knew he had fallen for planted evidence. In a way we were even."
He kissed her hair, breathing her in.
"Hermione, do you think, he would make a case now?"
Hermione was taken aback. "Why should he?"
"I don't know really, but the Weasel is back in England, and seems to be hell bent on revenge or comeuppance. All I know is that Potter had me followed the other day."
"He had you followed?" Hermione felt like someone had dosed her with ice cold water. "Why didn't you tell me that? Pott-kettle, Draco? Have you become a hypocrite?"
"I didn't tell you, exactly because I thought he had given that testimony on his own accord. That he tried to be fair within certain limits and that he tries to be fair now. And after that long time as an auror I doubt that he would fall for someone blatantly being framed again. He is a good auror and since then he has occasionally questioned evidence."
Hermione studied Draco. She had long come to the conclusion that Harry had had nothing to do with that blasted Amortentia business, that he had been duped, but she had not known, that Draco thought the same. They rarely spoke about that time. It was too painful.
He ran his hands through his hair. "He did neither confirm nor deny I was tailed, of course, when I confronted him. He used to be an open book, but he is bloody good at deflecting by now."
She took a deep breath, trying to will away the cold dread that had taken hold of her.
"Oh Merlin, it's not as if we don't have enough worries already."
"My only consolation is, that they can't really find anything and that he would be suspicious of something being planted. And as far as I know, you never tried to manipulate witnesses again, or did you?"
"No, I didn't. Nothing was ever that important to me again."
"Love," he said. "You are a menace, you know that. I am glad, you're on my side. And I've known for a long time, that you do have flaws, my love. Nevertheless, you do make me a better person."
"I wouldn't know what to do without you, Draco. If you wouldn't give me perspective, I would be the bane of the wizarding world. Trying to force people seeing everything my way, hexing them left and right…." She smiled ruefully. "Apart from the fact that you ensure that I get food. And that means that my mood is better."
He kissed her then, tasting the rest of her tears. He was tender at first, but their kisses soon turned more demanding, deeper and more passionate. It didn't matter that it was terribly late, that Hermione's face was swollen from crying or that Draco was dishevelled from running. It was more important to touch and feel and sink into each other.
"Want to join me in the shower?" Draco asked. His smile was mischievous. "I could dive for pearls."