Chapter Text
“Hermione!” Harry yelled from the kitchen below. “Have you seen my black and grey tie?”
“It was hanging on the armchair in the drawing room yesterday, have you moved it since then?” Hermione replied as she descended the stairs at Grimmauld place. She was making her way to the kitchen, following the delectable smell of freshly brewed coffee and toast. Harry pushed past her in the doorway, clearly in a rush. Hermione set about serving herself breakfast, toast with Jam, and pouring herself a strong, hot cup of coffee.
Just as she was settling into her chair, and opening up today's prophet Harry returned to the kitchen.
“I’ve got it!” He exclaimed, triumphantly brandishing the tie as he sat down to her left. Their morning routine was perfected at this point. Harry was always looking for something he had left lying about while Hermione made them each some toast and coffee.
She had been staying at Grimmauld Place since just after the Battle of Hogwarts, but she would be moving out in a month. Headmistress McGonagall had prepared for an eighth year at Hogwarts for this coming year. It was for the students who had their seventh year and NEWTS interrupted by the War. Hermione would certainly have been able to take on any job she had applied for based on her name alone, but she wanted the year to grieve and come to terms with everything, and she wanted to receive job offers based on merit, not fame. Plus, Hermione Jean Granger thrived in an academic environment.
“Why do you need that tie? What’s wrong with that nice maroon one Ginny got you before she left?” Hermione took a sip of her coffee and spared a thought for her friend, and Harry’s fiance, who was currently touring with the Holyhead Harpies.
“Well, today is Narcissa’s trial, and I didnt think Gryffindor colours would be appropriate.” Harry pulled out his morning memo from the aurors office, always one to take work home with him, and set about reviewing it. Harry had immediately accepted a position as a senior auror with the ministry, he wanted to help track down any remaining death eaters. He had an offer to teach DADA from McGonagall but he wanted to wait a few more years before taking her up on it.
Ron had made the decision to work with George in the Jokeshop.
“I want to be with my family, and I want to make children laugh. It’s all been so dark for so long, I want to bring back some happiness, you know?” Hermione remembered his speech very well, she’d interrupted after that.
“You don’t have to explain anything to us Ron, we’ll always support you.” Hermione had reassured him.
“Harry,” she prompted while taking his coffee cup away and flicking his memo. “You’re going to be late.”
“Oh, bollocks!” He stood in a rush and grabbed his coat from by the door. “Thanks ‘Mione, you’re a lifesaver!”
“She lied to Voldemort,” Harry noticed a few of the Wizengamot still flinched at the name. “She looked him in the eye and lied, if she was a true supporter, if she was there by choice, and not forced into the role by fear of Voldemort and what he would do to her family, she wouldn't have lied. And if she hadn’t, then I wouldn't be here right now and Voldemort would have won.” A chorus of whispers passed through the councilors as they discussed this information. Harry looked over to Narcissa.
She looked put together, not a hair out of place, but she also looked broken. Her cheeks were sunken and her lips were cracked, her shining hair was dull and greying. She looked like a particularly strong gust of wind could take her down. She would never survive Azkaban.
“Thank you Mr Potter, if you have nothing further to add you may take your seat.” The speaker announced. “We will now break for an hour to discuss sentencing.” The councilors rose and began to file out.
Harry stepped down from the witness box, but did not move to his seat. Instead he approached Narcissa. The aurors guarding her gave him stern glances but made no move to stop him. They hadn’t placed her in shackles, clearly they didn't see her as dangerous or a flight risk.
“Narcissa, I’m so sorry about your husband, and Draco.” He looked down at his feet.
“It’s quite alright dear. Lucius got what he deserved, putting us through hell like that.” She fiddled with a strand of hair before looking up and catching Harry’s eye. “I was wondering Harry if you would do me one last favour.”
“Anything.” He replied instantly. The woman had saved the wizarding world just as much as he had.
“Would you please testify for Draco at his trial tomorrow.” Harry flinched, whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that. “I know he didn't kill Professor Dumbledore, he’s not a murderer, and he didn’t identify you to the Dark Lord at the Manor, and he gave you a wand, in the fight. He had as much choice as I did. I know he was never kind to you or your friends, but he wasn’t a murderer and he never wanted to be a death eater. He’s already paid such a high cost. He… ” She looked down at her hands again. “Please.”
The desperation in her voice drew him straight back to that night in the forest. A mother who just wanted to protect her son.
“Of course, Narcissa,” he tried to reach for her hand but the aurors pinned him with a glare. “Of course I’ll testify.”
“Hermione, I have to go back tomorrow. We’ll have to postpone our lunch.” Harry reached across the table to grab the roasted potatoes.
“Oh. Did they really need another day for her trial? I thought they’d be rather lenient with her, all things considered.” Hermione took a sip from her wine and furrowed her brow in conclusion.
“No, it’s-” Harry looked down at his dinner. “It’s Draco. I said I’d testify at his trial. Everything at the manor and the battle and sixth year. Well, I promised.”
“Oh.” Hermione dropped her fork. Malfoy. She considered his situation. He had seemed rather distraught in sixth year. It would make sense that he didn't want to join the cause. If he was blackmailed into it rather than joining willingly. Then, that night at the manor. He hadn’t identified them. Six years of school together, he had to know that it was them. But he had lied to his father to protect them. He had thrown Harry his wand at the Battle of Hogwarts. He had always been intelligent, even if he was a prat. It didnt make sense for him to fall for the stupid pureblood propaganda. He didn't deserve the kiss. Not like the other Death Eaters.
“I’ll come with you. I can say a few words too.” Hermione gave Harry a reassuring smile from across the table before they both took a deep drink of wine.
“And after they took Mr Weasley and Mr Potter away, what happened then?” The chief Warlock leaned forward in his seat. He was obviously trying to get her to talk about Bellatrix, to try and incriminate Draco with her torture.
“That incident had nothing to do with Mr Malfoy, if you need a refresher then you can look at my initial testimony in the records. I do believe you have access.” Hermione’s voice was icy, but not as cold as the stare she fixed the Chief Warlock with.
Draco stood at the front. He had shackles around both his wrists, and his feet. Four aurors stood around him. Their wands remained drawn But he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the floor for the duration of his trial. The only movement he made was during his sentencing. When the Chief Warlock sentenced him to probation Hermione could have sworn his shoulders slumped even further.
“You will remain on probation for three years. The first will be spent as an eighth year at Hogwarts. The Headmistress will send us fortnightly reports. You will not be allowed to leave school grounds. The remainder will be spent on house arrest.”
Hermione breathed out a sigh of relief as the gavel banged down.