PROLOGUE/22ND AUGUST 1998

The end of the Second Wizarding War was a welcome relief, and the summer had been dedicated to rebuilding Hogwarts and the many wizarding villages in Britain and Ireland, and huge taskforces of Obliviators and Healers to erase the damage caused to the Muggle world. It had also been full of funerals and heart break. There weren't many nights anymore that Hermione didn't wake up with the haunting howl of Percy and George Weasley ringing in her ears, the ghost of a smile that remained on Fred's face seemingly burnt into her retinas.

In her younger years, she had hated the need for sleep. It was a necessary evil that frequently got in the way of jamming more information into her brain. Today she only wished she could lie back down and close her eyes and not have to think anymore.

There was a loud groan beside her in the bed and a sudden gust of warm, slightly sour morning breath swept across her face. Ron stretched, and slung an arm over her waist, pulling her into him and nuzzling her neck.

"G'morning 'mione." He yawned again, and she leaned away from his morning breath, laughing.

"Good morning Ron." A fond smile, before swinging her legs out of the bed and extracting herself from his arms. "You really should get up. We've got a full day of trials at the Ministry today."

A full day she wished she could avoid. She didn't much feel like coming face to face with people who had spent the last two years trying to kill her in earnest, nor did she want to stand up and face the angry Wizengamot and public and advocate on behalf of Narcissa and Draco Malfoy.

But her conscience was stronger than her reservations, and whether she liked it or not, Narcissa and Draco had both played important roles in ensuring the end of the War. Narcissa had lied about Harry's death, and Draco had refused to identify them in the Manor. Either would have meant a swift death for all involved and she shuddered to think of the consequences of that particular path.

Draco rarely fidgeted, it was not in his Pureblood upbringing; but he was also rarely tried as a war criminal and as far as he was concerned, if there was ever a reason to fidget, this was it.

His mother wholeheartedly disagreed, shooting him subtle disapproving looks periodically, maintaining a cool indifference to anyone watching them. Lucius stood as still as the marble statues that lined the holding chamber, virtually indistinguishable with his ashen skin and pale features. With 50 years each of schooled decorum, they were much more prepared for something like this. However well one could be prepared when their support of a homicidal madman was being scrutinised in great detail anyway.

An Auror opened the door of the chamber and gestured out to the hallway.

"Malfoy's, you're next," as if his gesture might've been for the gargoyles. Draco was suddenly overwhelmed with fear; he didn't want to face the people who had lost family members, who had been tortured or maimed or held hostage.

What a fucking coward he was. He straightened his back, rearranged his features into an expressionless mask, and followed his parents into the short hall and through the doors to the Wizengamot court rooms. Hundreds of eyes almost pinned him to the floor as he entered, and he took a visible gulp of air.

Lucius stood forward first, and the Minister, Shacklebolt, stood and unrolled a long scroll.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, the Wizengamot hereby accuses you of the following war crimes," the silence in the room was deafening, "Torture of Muggles, Muggleborns, and Half-Bloods, conspiring to murder, conspiring to torture, treasonous intent to overthrow the presiding Ministry, harbouring criminals, second degree murder of Charity Burbage, taking the Dark Mark, and taking part in illegal Death Eater activity."

Shacklebolt looked up from the scroll, which rolled itself up and disappeared with a muted puff. "The Wizengamot is aware that you defected in the Battle of Hogwarts, and that you were under great duress with Voldemort in your home. You will now be given the opportunity to present evidence and witnesses to speak on your behalf."

Lucius spoke quietly, but he still commanded the room. "Thank you Minister. I acknowledge and plead guilty to the accusations presented. I have no witnesses for my character."

"Very well," the Minister gestured to Narcissa, who stood, as Lucius took his seat. "Narcissa Druella Malfoy, nèe Black, you are accused of obstruction of justice, conspiring with Voldemort to overthrow the Ministry..."

His voice faded into the background as Draco's eyes roamed the courtroom. Several angry faces jeered at him from the public booths, the members stands were not much better. His eyes roamed to the witness stand, and he realised with a jolt Potter was sitting there, next to Weasley and Granger. He had a sudden urge to empty his meagre breakfast onto his dragon hide shoes.

Apart from the Battle of Hogwarts, the last time he had seen the trio had been when his mad aunt had carved a slur into Granger's arm as she screamed and begged for her to stop. He looked down and swallowed the rising bile in his throat. If they were there as character witnesses for him, he had very little hope of avoiding a long stint in Azkaban.

"The Wizengamot calls upon Harry James Potter to bear witness to the actions of Narcissa Druella Malfoy." His head shot up again as Potter made his way to the platform. He listened in shock as Potter spoke on behalf of his mother, and watched as his mothers legs shook beneath her.

And all too soon, it was his turn.

He could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on him, but none more than the trio, burning into his neck. Shacklebolt read the list of his war crimes for everyone to hear. Conspiring to murder Albus Dumbledore. Use of the Imperius Curse. Granting Death Eaters entry to Hogwarts. Secondary to the murder of Charity Burbage. Causing grievous harm and death to fellow students. Repeated use of forbidden Dark Magic. Conspiring to overthrow the Ministry. The list went on and on and he could feel himself being crushed into the floor by the heel of justice.

And then he stopped, and Draco licked his lips and croaked, "Thank you Minister." Before he could get any further, the Minister beckoned to Potter and Granger.

"The Wizengamot calls on Harry James Potter to bear witness to the actions of Draco Lucius Malfoy." He had a dry mouth. How did he ever think breathing was an automatic thing? He had forgotten how to; his lungs may as well have been cinderblocks on his chest.

"Please state your name and birth date for the record."

"Harry James Potter, 31st of July, 1980." Well, at least Potter could speak.

"How do you know the defendant?"

"We attended Hogwarts together for six years." He concentrated on keeping his breathing even.

"And how well would you say you know him?"

"We were... acquainted."

"What do you know of his involvement in the War, and with Voldemort?"

Silence. He could hear his heart beat in his ear.

"He was forced against his will. I was there the night Dumbledore died. He didn't want to kill him. His family was being threatened."

His vision sparkled, and he let out a whoosh of air, gasping. Shacklebolt and Potter exchanged a glance.

"We now call upon Hermione Jean Granger to bear witness to the actions of Draco Lucius Malfoy."

His mouth was a desert, parched, and he was unable to swallow. Granger took Potters' place on the platform.

"Please state your name and date of birth for the record."

"Hermione Jean Granger. 19 September 1979."

"How do you know the defendant?"

He could feel her eyes, burning a hole in his bent head.

"We attended school together for six years."

Her answers were indistinguishable from Potters until she was asked about his war crimes.

"He is the reason we made it to the Battle of Hogwarts."

"Can you elaborate?" Draco met her gaze, molten silver and chocolate.

"He refused to identify us when asked by the Snatchers that captured us. He wouldn't fight us, he wouldn't kill, and he gave up his wand without a fight." Clearly the events had rearranged themselves in Grangers mind, but he wasn't going to argue. "Our relationship has been antagonistic in the past. He grew up indoctrinated with Pureblood supremacy, I'm a Muggleborn. We hated each other."

She took a sharp breath, "He was a child. He's still a child. He doesn't deserve to be punished for being a bullheaded teenager."

An inexplicable urge to laugh bubbled up his throat. He managed to hold his expression, a puff of air coming out his nose.

"He's still a right git." Weasley's voice came from the seats, shushed by Potter.

Draco could barely contain himself, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. Bursting into peals of laughter would not help his case in the slightest. Nothing was even funny. He was a git, but he wasn't an evil git, and for some reason that made him want to sit down and howl with laughter until tears ran down his face and his ribs cramped.

"The Wizengamot will now convene."

The Mafoys were ushered back into the waiting chamber, and as the door slammed shut, to the utter bewilderment of his parents, Draco Malfoy dissolved into laughter.

If her research had been accurate, and it was very rare that it wasn't, the average Wizengamot convening lasted 3 hours and 32 minutes. This wasn't average though. They'd been through the trials of Yaxley, Dolohov, and Rodolphus LeStrange, all open-and-shut cases that required less than 30 minutes deliberation before delivering a guilty verdict and life in Azkaban. There was no mistaking the alliances of the sneering, arrogant faces that spat at her feet as they passed her being escorted to Azkaban.

The Malfoys were different though. Lucius was a coward who backed the wrong horse, so to speak. His loyalties lay with the cause, not the leader, and he would have been content ensuring the Malfoy line was not sullied by dirty blood (Merlin she hated the expression "dirty blood") if Voldemort had not recruited him. Narcissa skated the line between light and dark expertly; she would back whoever or whatever kept her family safe.

And Malfoy (Draco, she silently corrected), he was, as they say, an enigma wrapped in a paradox and shrouded in a conundrum. Not saying he wasn't a slimy little cockroach, but he certainly shouldn't spend his life in Azkaban because he was brought up as a bigot.

She sighed and rubbed her temples, and Ron squeezed her knee affectionately. She felt like she was on tenterhooks, and it wasn't even her trial for Godric's sake!

/

4 hours, 27 minutes, and counting. This was taking too long. She didn't know what she would be advocating for if she was a member but she couldn't just sit here and do nothing for hours on end.

/

She had been pacing for an hour and four minutes, making it a total of 5 hours and 31 minutes since the Wizengamot convened.

The door cracked open. A stout, wrinkly witch beckoned them with a crooked finger and they crossed the threshold into the court room once more. The Malfoys entered the room from the other side, and she didn't think she had ever seen any of them as pale as they were right now.

Kingsley stood waiting for the three to be seated, casting sonorus before speaking.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, for crimes against the Wizarding World, you are hereby found guilty of all charges, and sentenced to Azkaban for 20 years. You may be granted parole in the form of house arrest on the proviso of giving up your wand if you demonstrate good will."

Well, that was probably the best he could have expected. Hermione resisted the urge to sneer at him.

"Narcissa Druella Malfoy, nèe Black, for crimes against the Wizarding World, you have been found not guilty of conspiring with Voldemort, conspiring to overthrow the Ministry of Magic, of secondary murder of Charity Burbage, and of taking the Dark Mark. You have been found guilty of the obstruction of justice pertaining to the reign of Voldemort. The Wizengamot has taken into consideration your role in the victory at the Battle of Hogwarts, and are imposing a fine of 20,080 Galleons, 5 Sickles, and 13 Knuts, to be utilised in the reparations of Muggle Britain. You are to be contained to the grounds of the Malfoy Manor, pending an investigation of the manor."

Narcissa looked like she was about to faint from relief, before looking towards Draco, who was slowly turning a nauseating shade of faint green.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy." He had never felt smaller. "For crimes against the Wizarding World, you have been conditionally cleared of all charges."

A ripple of muttering went around the room. He wasn't sure if he'd heard the dark skinned wizard correctly. He wasn't entirely sure this whole this was not an extremely vivid hallucination.

"The conditions are as follows. You are to complete your education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are not to use magic outside of class. You will pay reparations of 10,040 Galleons, 2 Sickles, and 21 Knuts. Your Gringotts accounts will be frozen until you have graduated."

Shacklebolt peered over the scroll. "Mr Malfoy, I expect you to take your education seriously, and I expect you to be remorseful in all your actions. Your behaviour will be closely monitored, and poor behaviour will not be tolerated."

Draco swallowed, finding his throat entirely too dry again, and nodded. Hogwarts. He could deal with it. Head down, finish the work, and get through it.

He locked his knees and looked up at Shacklebolt. "I accept these terms, thank you Minister."

AUTHORS NOTE: Hi all, and welcome to my story. I have been writing on and off for years, but have taken a break from writing fanfiction for a very long time. This story has been sitting in my head and has been slowly being converted to actual words over the last couple of months and I'm hoping have actual people reading my stories will be motivation for me to write them.

I'm hoping to update each story I write weekly. I ship Dramione hard core, but have also recently been into Sirmione so you may see some of that too.

Lastly, I would really appreciate reviews telling me what you're liking and not liking about the chapters and the characters, and the overall plot.

Thanks all! ~ Alycat

P.S. Love that I already have a review accusing me of advocating for a racist bully... we're in the prologue buddy, hold your horses, redemption is a part of this.