AUTHOR'S NOTE A: This is rated T for language and countless references to erections.

I wanted to take a quick minute to thank CourtingInsanity, who has beta edited the prologue and first two chapters of this story. She did great work and had a great turnaround time, and I highly recommend her. :) Due to a mix of real life circumstances, social awkwardness on my part (lul), and my completely unpredictable writing turnarounds, I have opted to continue future chapters without the use of a beta, but this is no reflection on the quality of her beta work. If you're reading this, CI, I apologize!

Prologue - Harry's Big Speech

May 3, 1999

Ministry of Magic

Department of Mysteries

Courtroom Seven Conference Room

11:34 am

Harry Potter glanced at his watch, the familiar face calming him slightly.

So far it had been four minutes. Four minutes since he'd entered the conference room and seen Draco Malfoy for the first time in just over a year. Four minutes since the men had greeted each other with mirrored sneers. Four minutes since Harry had asked for a moment alone with his former school rival. Four minutes since the click of the closing door announced the moment Harry had been practicing for for weeks.

Five minutes.

Draco sat with his wrists magically bound, scowl fixed to his face and eyes fixed to the table. Time, as well as his recent stint in Azkaban, had changed him. He was still good looking, Harry allowed himself to begrudgingly admit; if you're into ferrets. Draco's hair was longer and still more orderly than Harry's own despite the imprisonment. There was no product, but it appeared Draco had never actually required product to make his hair obey. He was more gaunt than Harry recalled, and as pale as ever, the white stripes on the Azkaban jumpsuit almost hidden against the light skin. His jaw and cheekbones, always sharp, now looked downright dangerous.

Harry did not wish to speak first, but he was sure his rival felt the same. He was also sure that Draco had more patience, thanks to months of sitting in Azkaban. Sitting at this table, even with Harry, was certainly better than sitting in a cell. Harry crossed his arms in a feeble attempt at intimidation, and could almost feel how badly Draco wished to mirror the posture. The spell binding his wrists prevented it, however, and instead he placed both palms together in front of him, rhythmically tapping his long fingers against each other. Harry let out a quiet guffaw, and, happy with the simple victory of being able to maneuver his limbs, he allowed Draco a rare win, and spoke first.

"I suppose you've been told-"

"I know why you're here, Potter." Draco said the words, but when Harry looked at him, it was as though nothing had happened. Draco's expression remained dispassionate, his posture was stiff, and his fingers continued their tapping. "What I don't know is why you've insisted on a heart-to-heart first."

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and fought the urge to call Draco an ungrateful prat. "I have something to say to you, and since I'd prefer to never see you again, I thought I'd get it over with."

Draco's position still did not shift. His eyes did not widen in curiosity; his fingers did not stop tapping; it was almost as if he'd been struck with an errant Petrificus totalus that froze all but his hands. A glint in his eye was all that revealed he held any interest at all in listening.

"I have decided to testify at your trial," Harry began after taking a deep breath. "As I did in your mother's. And I want you to know why."

Draco gave a mirthless laugh, his fingers finally stilling. "I am aware of your hero complex, Saint Potter, so spare me-"

Harry barked out a laugh as well, and lifted the corner of his mouth in a superior grin. "My hero complex does not extend to you, Malfoy." He'd saved Draco's life in the Room of Requirement a year ago, and they both knew it - but neither brought it up. "I'm here because Hermione Granger asked me to be."

Harry squinted across the table, scrutinizing Draco's response. There was a slight narrowing of his eyes, a slight furrowing of his brow, a flash in his irises.

Harry had never been very eloquent, and so his speech was well rehearsed, every minute detail planned. "We argued about it for hours, the three of us. When your representative approached me, I turned him down immediately. Why would I testify on your behalf? Not only are you a prat and a bully, you're a Death Eater. You almost murdered multiple people I care about. You tried to hand me over to Voldemort." Draco grimaced at the mention of the name. "I was content to let you rot in Azkaban." Another grimace appeared at the mention of the prison; Harry smirked at Draco's discomfort.

"But then Hermione brought up Dumbledore, and how he'd obviously seen something redeemable in you. The secret of what that was died with him, and I doubt we'll ever figure it out. But she had a few other points, as well, and in the end she was able to convince me.

"And do you know what really gets me?" Harry asked, removing his glasses and polishing them in what Ron had confirmed was a very condescending way. "She didn't want me to tell you that it was her. She begged me to lie, to make something up. To say it was Dumbledore's idea, or mine, or your mother's." Harry laughed again, remembering the conversation, and how passionate Hermione had been. "She doesn't even want credit. She doesn't want to gloat. She genuinely thinks you deserve to go free, and she doesn't want you having to owe that to anyone, especially not to her."

Draco's face was blank, but his features were tight, as though he had to force them to portray no emotion. Harry leaned forward onto the table, and adopted a dramatic whisper.

"She doesn't know I'm telling you this, but I am. Because I don't think that's fair, Malfoy. I don't think you should get to walk and not know why. I don't think you should continue living a normal, happy life, blissfully unaware of to whom you owe it all."

He raised his voice, and pushed his glasses back on to his face. "I want you to remember that a lowly muggleborn has bested you in every way. She is the argument as to why muggleborns are not inferior. She's smarter, stronger, faster, kinder, better. Every time you take a breath of fresh air, remember why it's possible. Remember that she fought for you, and remember that you didn't give her the same treatment when your positions were reversed. Remember that thanks to a Mudblood - one whose death you've wished for, one who your chosen side would've eliminated without thought - your precious pureblood line may live on."

His speech finally finished, Harry rested his eyes again on Draco. The blond's hands, still bound at the wrist, were clenched into fists. The corners of his mouth were turned steeply downwards, his jaw locked tight. He was still glaring at the table, and Harry wouldn't be surprised to see it start emitting smoke at any moment.

"Again, Hermione doesn't know I'm telling you this. I'd prefer to keep it that way, but I know better than to trust you. If you do decide-"

"I won't bring it up." The quiet sentence was initiated with a low growl. Harry wasn't sure what to make of it.

"I'm serious, Malfoy, you stay away from her, and don't think you can turn us against each-"

"I. Won't. Mention. It." Draco snapped, punctuating with pauses.

"Well - well good," Harry responded lamely, brought up short. He had been expecting an argument and was fully prepared to launch his retort. He'd been expecting Draco to protest and whine, to attempt to derail Harry's words, to say something cruel and mocking - to do anything, really, expect for wordlessly listen and then complacently agree to keep the whole thing a secret.

Harry got up to leave, satisfied. As he placed his hand on the doorknob, he thought he heard Draco say something. Turning back, he saw that Draco's cheeks were slightly pink, and he was still focused on the same place on the table.

"What?"

Draco shifted in his seat. "I said thank you, Potter." He cleared his throat, and before Harry could ask if Draco had heard a word of the speech he'd just flawlessly delivered, Draco added, "For my mother."

Draco looked up, and for a brief second their eyes met. Harry gave a terse nod, feeling inexplicably guilty, and left the room.

AUTHOR'S NOTE B: I want to mention that I have no clear publishing/writing schedule. I have the first 5 chapters completed and will post probably weekly, but after that I make no promises as to when the next chapters will be posted. I hope this will not turn you off of reading this story. If you were around a decade ago when I wrote Crupulus (BTW- I hope I have dramatically improved since then)... you know that it took me over a year, but I did eventually finish that story. The pressure of knowing people are waiting for me to post is a great motivator. I write fanfiction solely for fun and to keep myself immersed in my favorite world, and share this in the hopes that someone else may enjoy it. If you came from my Owl Spew one-shot - I do have a follow-up for that in the works that I may start to post soon as well. Thanks in advance for reading and hopefully reviewing!