"So, this is it then," said Harry Potter to one of his best friends, Hermione Granger. "This is the last day of testimonies for Malfoy's trial, unless your's runs long." They were riding the lift in the Ministry of Magic, down to the tenth level. Hermione wore her brand new formal robes and dressiest shoes, even though the heel was a little too high for her liking. Hermione was never fond of shopping, so she turned to her best girl friend Ginny Weasley. Ginny had helped her pick out a classy, royal blue dress, reminding Hermione of the dresses she had seen on those courtroom drama television shows her mother used to watch. It was perfect for the occasion.

The war had ended just under six months ago. Most of Voldemort's allies had been arrested (a few were still in hiding), and trials were slowly underway. Hermione had given written attestations to the Chief Warlock for each and every person's trial. It was to avoid having to restate her perspective of events every week or so. It was a nightmare just to write them all down. She, of course, sat in on all of the trials, but it was better off for her not to have to speak. However, she had chosen to speak for two trials: Narcissa Malfoy and her son, Draco. Harry had asked her to speak on behalf of Mrs. Malfoy, and she agreed, especially after Harry told her what she had done for him. As for Draco Malfoy, Hermione had her own reasons. When anyone questioned her about it, she always responded the same, "I want justice to be served." Ronald Weasley thought she meant what he meant when he said that phrase, and she didn't bother to correct him.

"Well, here's hoping," she responded. "I don't think I could handle another day of this. By the way, it might be a little difficult to hear some of it. Just warning you now, Harry."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, giving Hermione a puzzled look.

Hermione sighed. "Just that, I don't think people know him as well as they think they do. We'll see though. Hopefully it'll all go smoothly." This would be the fourth day of testimonies for Draco Malfoy's trial. It had been a long week for Hermione, having to listen everyone's different perspectives of the same events over and over again. George Weasley was giving his testimony first thing in the morning, and Hermione was to give her testimony right after that. George had told her earlier in the week that his testimony was fairly short, given he didn't have too many direct interactions with Malfoy. Hermione was hoping this would give her more time in the day. She would be the last to speak on Draco's behalf. Her testimony would be the one in the forefront of everyone's mind when sentencing him, not to add to her growing nerves. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear as the lift opened up.

Harry and Hermione walked up to the courtroom doors, gave their wands to the guarding Auror, and proceeded into the room. Hermione let her eyes wonder across the fifty members of Wizengamot, including Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt. She kept the poise and grace that would make even Narcissa Malfoy envious, not wanting the Wizengamot to have any reason to undermine her testimony. Hermione found it ironic that she was trying to emulate Mrs. Malfoy, when she was there specifically to testify on behalf of her son. Narcissa's trial had been a few weeks prior. She had been sentenced to six months house arrest and had not been able to make it to Draco's trial.

Hermione's eyes lingered over the witness booth as they walked, seeing the thirteen other people who had testified during Draco's trial so far: Ron, Neville, Luna, Dean, Seamus, to name a few. Professor McGonagall was even in the back row, as she had testified on the first day with Harry. Of course, not everyone had testified on Draco's behalf, but more so to say their piece. Hermione walked up the stairs to her seat, next to Ron, with a little help from Harry's arm to avoid tripping on her heels. Harry took the seat to her right. As she sat down, she looked over the defendant. She had avoided looking at him all week, knowing full well her poise would falter the second their eyes connected. However, she didn't want her first look at him to be while she was sitting in the witness chair. She forced herself to look.

Draco was seated, facing the Wizengamot slightly, in such a way that he couldn't see Hermione from his perceptive, which was a blessing for her. He looked sickly and haggard. His face was sunken in, looking worse than he did in sixth year, as if he hadn't eaten or slept in weeks. Maybe he hadn't. Those 173 days in Azkaban looked like they had done a number on him (and yes, she was counting). She thought back to those first few weeks after his arrest. In between rebuilding Hogwarts and mourning the dead, she tried to get visitation rights granted for him and his mother. She submitted so many requests, refilled out forms, and even changed the wording on some of them to see if it made any difference. It hadn't. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement denied every single one of them, stating Death Eaters were not to be given visitation rights; blanket statement, end of discussion. She tried arguing that Mrs. Malfoy wasn't a Death Eater, but they didn't want to hear that either. Hermione had meeting upon meeting with different members of Wizengamot, a few even with Kingsley, but that got her nowhere. She had tried submitting requests to allow mail and posts to be delivered to them, but those requests were rejected too. She had kept that all under wraps, of course, and requests such as those were considered confidential, so no one except the select few knew she had made them.

In those 173 days, she worked so hard, done so much research, on helping him keep his sanity and getting him out of that hellhole, even if he would never hear a word of it. She had worked so many sleepless nights on her testimony for him. This was it, hopefully the final day. He couldn't spend one more day in that place. He was looking at a maximum sentence of ten years in Azkaban, and based on how he looked right then, ten years was sure to do him in. She couldn't be the cause of that. She wouldn't be.

"Ready for this?" Hermione heard Ron whisper to her. She nodded slightly, glancing at him, keeping her face neutral. She felt ready. Ready to testify. Ready to admit everything she knew. Ready to do anything she could to protect Draco, just like he had promised her, what felt like a lifetime ago.

"To start the day, we will hear from Mr. George Weasley," said one of the Interrogators of the day. George walked down to the witness chair, sat down, and began his testimony. Like he promised to Hermione, his testimony was fairly short. The Interrogators only asked a handful of questions, which he had answered briefly. After about thirty minutes, he returned to his seat behind her and squeezed her shoulder for comfort. If Hermione had an older brother, she would've wanted someone like any of the Weasley boys.

"We will now hear our final testimony, from Ms. Hermione Granger." Hermione felt Ron's hand squeeze her left knee and Harry softly pat her right hand. The butterflies in her stomach started to flutter. She smiled at both of them for their support, before standing from her seat in the witness booth. She walked toward the center of the courtroom, reminding herself to keep the poise and grace she had at the start of the day. Keeping her head high, Hermione sat down in the chair George had just occupied, finally facing the Members of Wizengamot, with Draco on her left, just within her peripheral view. She crossed her ankles and folded her hands on her lap, trying to relax in such a tense situation.

"Thank you for testifying today, Ms Granger," said the Interrogator who had called her down. Interrogator Chambers had been the one doing most of the questioning throughout Draco's trial. He was a thin, brazen man, who reminded Hermione of every villain in every cartoon movie she could think of. Given the purple robes he was wearing, she wouldn't be surprised if green smoke started arising from underneath his seat. He was sitting in a way that made her think he was going to make her time on the stand very difficult, as if he were going to test her on material she hadn't had time to study. Hermione took a breath, sticking out her chest ever so slightly, to appear a little taller in her sitting position.

"Thank you for allowing me to testify, Interrogator Chambers, Members of Wizengamot," Hermione said, as she turned her head and nodded, once to the right and once to the left, acknowledging the room. She silently reminded herself that, as important as the previous testimonies were, hers was just as (if not, more) important, just as valuable, to his sentencing, especially since she was the last to say her piece. Don't let them undermine you, she thought to herself.

"Now, Ms. Granger, how do you know the defendant, Mr. Draco Malfoy?" Interrogator Chambers said conversationally. His hands were folded in his lap, his head slightly tilted to the left, as if they were having a chat over a pot of tea and biscuits.

"From school. We were in the same graduating class at Hogwarts." She kept her voice even and steady, her eyes forward.

"Ah. And how well would you say you know Mr. Malfoy?" Chambers tilted his head slightly to the right. It no longer felt like they were having tea, and more like she was in Professor Snape's office, ready to be caught in a lie.

"Fairly well, I'd say." He wouldn't catch her in a lie though, not today of all days; this was far too important.

"Fairly well?" Interrogator Chambers repeated.

"That's what I said," she responded. It was getting more and more difficult for Hermione to keep her poise. She uncrossed and recrossed her ankles, feeling fidgety all of a sudden.

"Fairly well..." Hermione caught sight of a slight smirk upon his lips, reminding her more and more of the late Severus Snape by the second. "Fairly well... Fairly—"

"Objection! Badgering the witness!" Hermione heard her own voice say, but still not quite sure it had come out of her own mouth. She saw the Interrogator's smirk deepen. The courtroom went even quieter than it had before, if that were possible, and Hermione felt everyone in the room staring at her. She chanced a brief look at Draco, who was looking down at his feet, smiling slightly. She knew if circumstances were different he would've said something teasingly (How long have you lived in the Wizarding World? Old habits die hard, huh, Granger?). Hermione instantly knew she had said the wrong thing, even though it felt like the right thing at the time. Chambers was badgering her, after all.

"Ms. Granger." Minister Shacklebolt's voice was easily distinguishable, and Hermione felt her heart drop. She turned her head toward him; he was leaning forward so that she could see him more clearly. "Ms. Granger, please do remember that you are in a Wizengamot courtroom, and not a Muggle one."

"Yes, Minister," Hermione responded. She could hear quiet chuckling surrounding her, which she ignored. She pushed her hair behind her ear again, avoiding the nervous habit of biting her nails that she was still trying to kick.

"Thank you. Interrogator Chambers, you can continue your questioning," Shacklebolt stated and leaned back into his seat. Hermione turned her eyes back toward the Interrogator, taking another breath to calm her racing heart.

"Thank you, Minister. Now, Ms Granger," Chambers continued, still smirking at her, "you say that you know Mr. Malfoy 'fairly well'. Would you care to elaborate?"

"You want me to elaborate on how well I know Draco Malfoy?" Hermione watched Chambers nod his head, his hands still folded neatly in his lap and the same smirk still on his face. She could feel Draco's eyes on her, but she refused to look at him. Her heart was already beating faster than it should; she didn't need another reason for it. She kept her eyes on Interrogator Chambers. Hermione took another breath and began her answer.

"How well do I know Draco Malfoy? Well, I know his middle name is Lucius, after his father. I know his birthday is the 5th of June. I know his favorite color is silver. I know he loves pumpkin juice but hates pumpkin pancakes, unless you make them without nutmeg. I know his favorite Quidditch team is the Appleby Arrows. I know his favorite subject at Hogwarts was Ancient Runes, and he hated Potions, even though he excelled greatly at it. He told me once it was because he didn't want to end up like Severus Snape, though I'm not sure potions was the reason for that statement. I know he has seventeen scars, in various directions and lengths, across his torso, and five across his back, from when he was struck by the Sectumsempra Curse, performed by Harry Potter in our sixth year. I know he has the Dark Mark imprinted on his left forearm, and he's the youngest wizard in history to receive the honor." Hermione heard a sharp breath in, as if someone had been stung, but she kept her eyes forward and continued. "I also know, if you look closely enough, you will see many, thin scars, going through it. Mr. Malfoy had the brilliant idea that if he could cut it out, it wouldn't burn anymore. He was wrong, of course, and almost bled to death twice our sixth year. I don't think many people knew that though. Is that enough Interrogator Chambers, or would you like me to elaborate more on how well I know Mr. Malfoy?"

Hermione could hear whispers coming from the witness booth. She could just make out some of it, as Ron was never very good at whispering ("She's brilliant. It's no wonder she knew all that stuff."). She had told Harry some of this might be hard to hear. They had barely gotten their feet wet in her testimony. It was going to be a long day, first interrogated by the Wizengamot and then interrogated again by Harry and Ron.

"No, no. that's quite enough, Ms. Granger." Chambers rose his hand at her, slightly shaking it, stopping her from continuing. He had lost his smirk, looking as if he were contemplating what she had said. Hermione kept a calm face, feeling like she had won the battle. "Now, Ms. Granger, let's start at the beginning and go back to your first year. What was your first impression of Mr. Malfoy?"

"First impression?" Hermione was actually surprised by the question. She had prepared for this day, but first impressions? She didn't think those mattered too much, since your impression of someone can change drastically from one minute to the next. She didn't skip a beat though. "He was the perfect gentleman," as she began to recount her first interactions with Draco.