Chapter Ten

"Every conquering temptation represents a new fund of moral energy. Every trial endured and weathered in the right spirit makes a soul nobler and stronger than it was before." William Butler Yeats

Hermione sat back against her pillows, watching the sun come up over the grey horizon through her open curtains. She hadn't slept since she got back from the prison, her mind filled with images of Draco's face separated from her. Wrapping the quilt around her, she wandered through to her kitchen, put the kettle on and stared at it absentmindedly, not hearing the water heating up. Her heart was constantly racing. Every time she tried to calm down, an icy hand clamped around her heart and set it speeding again. There was nothing that she could do to reassure herself. The culmination of this whole horrific episode was something that she dreaded and anticipated in equal measures. It would all end today, whether for better or for worse, and she was utterly powerless to do anything more.

The click of the kettle brought her back down to earth, and she poured the water on top of a tea bag, inattentively swirling the liquid around. Looking down at it, she felt a sudden swell of nausea rise in her throat: it looked vile. The idea of pouring it down her throat was enough to make her push the cup away and run back into her bedroom. Staring into her mirror, fighting to quell the movement of her throat. Her eyes were rimmed with violet shadows, making them look huge in her pale face. Her lips were colourless and her hair was hanging limply onto her shoulders. She thought miserably that Draco shouldn't have to be confronted with that if he was going into prison. Or even if he was acquitted. Coming home to a hag – how charming for him. She looked at her wardrobe, wondering if she had the energy to get dressed. Maybe she could just go in her pyjamas and quilt. It wasn't like anything really mattered any more, especially if she was going to lose Draco.

Shaking her head, she made the effort to pull on a pair of trousers and a shirt, brushing her hair into a more presentable state, she stared at her bedroom clock. There were still three long hours to go before she could go to the Ministry, and hear the results of the trial. It was intolerable. Why would time fly so quickly when she didn't want it to, when she was curled into Draco's arm, but drag unbearably when she was faced with their separation? Sitting in front of her window, she watched as the sun gradually rose higher, dragging itself above the wispy clouds.

Draco woke up and thought that today would be the last time he woke up in this cell. He would either be free or in a considerably worse cell by this time tomorrow. He would have Hermione with him, or he would have lost her forever. He couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't ask her to stay faithful to him when he couldn't ever see her beyond the windows of his cell. He should set her free, like he should have done those two long years ago.

Crossing his arms behind his head, straining to keep himself calm, he wondered how long it would be until he found out what his fate would be. Would he be able to see Hermione before they went into the court chamber? He supposed not. Why would the Wizengamot make the experience any easier for either of them? Standing up, he began pacing his cell, his footsteps wearing a path of desperation into the grim tiles.

There was nothing that he dared to hope for any more. Everything that he had wanted for slipped through his fingers like water, so what would make this situation any different? He could see the contempt in his judges' eyes, making their decisions before they even heard what he had to say. Dragging a hand through his tangled hair, he closed his eyes and tried to resign himself to the only bleak future that he could see ahead of him.

Hermione tried to muster some form of authority as she walked through the halls of the Ministry; trying to tell everyone around her that she was utterly confident that she was going to win this case and be reunited with Draco, with absolutely no flack from anyone. Breathing in deeply, she picked up her pace slightly, able to see the chamber door ahead of her.

Her heart crashed within her chest as she saw two men standing beside the door, one with jet-black hair, and one with flaming red. "What are you two doing here?"

"We've come to see Malfoy go to prison," Ron answered, his eyes spiteful.

Hermione blinked slowly, unable to think of any retort. "You know what Ron? Say what you want. I'm exhausted. I'm heartbroken. I can't think straight any more because I'm constantly worrying. I love him, regardless of what you say or do. And I think Draco is innocent, and I will stand by him, even if no one else believes his story. And I will stand by him until I die. I gave him up once for you, and you've hardly made it worth my while, have you?" Pushing past him, she walked into the chamber, feeling that some shred of her dignity had been salvaged.

Her two best friends watched her back departing, and looked at each other. There was nothing that they could say to each other, so they just followed her in, sitting quietly at one side. She was sitting near the front, her eyes heavy with the dusting of shadows beneath them. It was heartbreaking for them to watch her, and know, deep in their hearts, that they could have eased some of her suffering by giving her some small amount of support. But it was never easy to turn around and admit that a deeply entrenched hatred of someone had been wrong all along, and it became even more difficult when there was a fear that that foe would take away a treasured friend.

Hermione's heart was thumping so hard in her chest that she thought it was going to explode out onto the desk in front of her. She was sure that people were looking at her funnily, wondering what the constant throbbing was. Burying her head in her hands, she vowed that she wouldn't look up again until Draco was in the room; she just couldn't focus on anything other than her own fear.

Just as worried as she was, Draco was pacing backwards and forwards in his cell, his pace growing more and more agitated as the seconds ticked away. Just as he thought he was about to punch the wall in frustration, the guards came to his cell, and opened the door, guiding him through the corridors for the last time. They didn't chain him but were clustered tightly around him, clearly ready to clap the manacles on him should the situation require it. He held his hands rigidly at his side, raising his chin proudly, seeking to retain some vestige of the sleek grace which had previously been his trademark.

Hermione heard the heavy clunk of marching footsteps, and raised her head to see Draco being escorted into the room. His blonde hair was gleaming slightly in the dim light of the chamber, and the tight line of his jaw showed the tension that he was feeling. She had never wanted more in her entire life to run to him and bury her face in his chest, letting his arms wrap around her and soothe away all the worry while she stroked his strong back. Smiling weakly at him, she tried to convey just how desperate she was for this to go well. They were past the point of telling each other that they would be ok, and that everything would be fine. There were no guarantees that they would hear what they needed to hear, there was no promise that they would be able to spend their lives together, there was no assurance that anyone would let them forget what had passed here and let them live a normal life. All their lives depended on at this point was hearing the two most important words in the English language: not guilty.

Draco was left standing in the centre of the chamber, accusing eyes glaring down at him. Hermione clasped her hands together so tightly that her nails were gouging crescents into her palms, as the Minister of Magic stood up, resplendent in his robes.

"The Wizengamot has reached its decision."

Hermione thought she was going to pass out.

"It goes without saying that being a Death Eater has long been considered one of the most heinous crimes within the wizarding community. This society has consistently been associated with violence, torture and death."

Draco bit his lip to try and stop his breath escaping too loudly.

"It is not the policy of the Ministry to pardon members of such groups, neither has it ever been."

Hermione bit her lip as tears spilled out of her eyes and streamed down her face.

Draco saw his life crashing around him as steel bars slammed down.

But the Minister was drawing breath to carry on speaking.

"However, the Ministry has always been working on the assumption that involvement with such groups was entirely voluntary."

Hermione raised her eyes to stare at the Minister, barely daring to breathe.

"The testimony which we have heard, has led us to believe that the defendant's involvement in the group was not entirely willing."

Draco sucked in a deep breath and began praying again.

"And as such, we do not believe that it would be acceptable for us to punish him. The faith which Miss Granger has shown in Mr Malfoy, and his honesty when answering our questions has led us to believe that he is entirely innocent of all the atrocities of which he was accused."

There was a stunned silence in the court.

"Therefore, he is hereby acquitted of all charges."

There was an even more stunned silence in the court. Then Hermione screamed and flung herself out of her seat and into Draco's arms. The guards melted away from them, and they spun around and around, clutching at each other, laughing, crying and kissing each other. The photographers took countless photos, the reporters scrawled quick notes into their pads, observers chattered together, discussing the verdict, and the Wizengamot looked down with strangely observant eyes. Draco's wand was handed back to him as Harry and Ron looked at each other, caught Hermione's eye, nodded and left the room in silence, unable to say anything.

Hermione suddenly became aware of the intense scrutiny on them, and grabbed Draco's hand, pulling him out of the chamber. They ran along the corridors, quickly apparating into Hermione's apartment as soon as they were able.

Draco stood, staring around a room that wasn't blocked with bars, revelling in the freedom. Then, remembering where he was, he turned back to Hermione, gathered her up and kissed away the tearstains on her face. She smiled and pulled his lips to hers, tasting him, smelling him, touching him. Their first truly free embrace in over two years brought them closer than they had ever been before, linking them beyond the pain of their first love, the passage of time and the torture of the trial. As they held each other in their arms, they knew that there was no way they could ever face separation again. To take away one part would mean leaving the whole destroyed.

As they lay together, entangled in the intimacy that only true lovers could have, Draco kissed the top of Hermione's head and asked "what do we do now then, Miss Granger?"

She kissed him back, and pulled his arm tighter around her. "We live happily ever after."

AN: So, it's the end of yet another era! Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck with me through this story, even through my terrible delays (for which I am once again, very sorry), and I really hope you've enjoyed reading it. I had to give them their happy ending this time - we're all romantics at heart. Anyway, I'm going to be posting my Christmas special soon, which will be called The Secret Snowflake, and then after that I'll be starting a new story which will be called Forbidden Fruit, so put me on your author alert, if you want to know when they go up. Also, if you're one of my new readers, I've got quite a few other stories up on my profile here, so feel free to check those out. Finally, please, please, please, please review, I'm so grateful to all of my reviewers (if you reviewed the last chapter and didn't get a response off me, I'm really sorry, was being funny and wouldn't let me reply for some reason, but I am very grateful). As always, all my love...petitesorciere xxx