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The Only True Lords	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 54573 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 11
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Chapter Fifty-Three—The Malfoys, Day One
            “Mr. Potter? I wanted to speak to you, before you went into the courtroom this morning.”
            Harry turned around and regarded Ollondors with a wary eye. He hadn’t forgotten how she had looked at Draco, and he thought he knew what this—bustling up to him in the anteroom before they got into the trial—was about.
            “Yes, madam?” he asked, resigned. Changes was with Draco, trying to make sure that he knew what to say, and that he remembered the most likely worst consequence for his actions was Azkaban, not the Dementors’ Kiss. That had been what was really driving the way he had almost broken down yesterday, Harry knew. He might talk about Azkaban, but what Draco feared more than anything else was death. Or maybe his own death plus the deaths of his parents.
            Ollondors drew him a little apart from his vassals, though it was difficult, in that small room filled mostly with chairs and a table, to get him far away. She cleared her throat. “Do you think that it’s the wisest course for you to go on defending the Malfoys?”
            “I only intend to defend one of them,” Harry said, and shifted his arm so that his silver shield with the four green dots appeared in the corner of her vision. “The one who’s bound to me by the Lordship commitment. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy can stand and fend for themselves, as far as I’m concerned.”
            Ollondors gave him a blank look. She had obviously never considered that. Harry wondered why not. More and more, he had the impression that the Wizengamot had played its games among its own members for so long that they had forgotten what kind of people they might seem like to the outside world.
            And maybe how those people in the outside world think, too.
            Harry bit his lip thoughtfully. If there was any possible way that he could use that to his advantage, then he would.
            “Fine,” said Ollondors, speaking in a clipped voice that seemed to say more about how her own plans had been overset than anything else. “But you have to see that associating with any member of the Malfoy family could tarnish your reputation.”
            Harry laughed. “And the papers and the public think my reputation is shining right now?”
            Again Ollondors hesitated. Then she said, “The firestorm that comes down could make this one look mild.”
            Harry had to shrug. “I’m already confined to a house for a year, and monitored, as far as what magic I can use goes,” he said. “I already have to live with the knowledge that a load of other Hogwarts students, most of whom committed the same crimes under the same fear as Pansy, are never going to be punished for it, because they weren’t Slytherins. I already have to live with the knowledge that a lot of people in the Ministry who followed Death Eater orders or used the Unforgivables Curses in fear of their lives are never going to be punished for it, while I am. I know that we’re the test cases, and the ones that all those eyes are focused on, so it’s worse. But telling me that it could be worse is sort of stupid. I know that. It’s just not enough to make me change my mind.”
            Ollondors considered him up and down. Harry stared back silently, stubbornly. He didn’t understand her. Sometimes she seemed to grasp that he couldn’t just walk away from the obligations of Lordship and desert his vassals; she’d even helped him use it in a few trials. And then she thought he should turn his back on Draco.
            Maybe it’s like Snape and Greg, Harry thought. He didn’t think about the bond or the promises I’d made to Greg. He just wanted to protect Draco, and he thought I should abandon Greg to do it. And Ollondors wants me to protect myself, and thinks I should abandon Draco to do it.
            “I cannot help you, if you persist in this folly,” Ollondors whispered, so quietly that Harry had to concentrate to hear her. “If you insist on tying your name to the Malfoys’, then all my help goes away.”
            “Do whatever you like with Lucius and Narcissa,” said Harry, waving his hand. “I know that Draco will be upset, because they’re his parents, but I can’t protect them. And I think that Lucius Malfoy deserves Azkaban.”
            “There’ll be no problem with that.” Ollondors’s jaw had tightened. “But we must have the whole family.”
            “Why?” Harry asked, and all he felt was curious at the moment, not angry. “Do you think that anyone who has the last name Malfoy is equally guilty?”
            “If you knew what he had done…”
            Harry sighed. “I saw some of what he did. I had a connection with Voldemort, and he used to use Draco to torture people, just because Draco didn’t like it and Voldemort wanted to hurt him. But he could perform the spells, so it’s not the same as what Voldemort tried to do with Greg. I know that Draco did bad things. But there’s the Lordship bond, and there’s the fact that he could have turned me over to the Snatchers and didn’t, and there’s the life-debts he owes me.”
            Ollondors shook her head. “I speak of other things.”
            “Did he do other things?” It was true that Harry had never asked Draco what had happened the year he was at Hogwarts with Snape as Headmaster, the way he had with Pansy. He knew that the case against Pansy was based on things other students said she had done, and the case against Draco was based on him being a Death Eater.
            “His family has done far worse than simply their activities during this war.” Ollondors’s eyes flickered over to Lucius. “You cannot have studied the actions that Lucius Malfoy claimed responsibility for, during the first war. And then he claimed that he was under Imperius and that he’d had to do those things. Imperius, indeed.” She shook her head.
            “Draco was a kid during the first war,” Harry said, his heart sinking a little. “Try him for what he did, fine. Don’t try him for what his father did.”
            “He is his family,” said Ollondors, and her eyes came back to him. “I cannot separate them.”
            “Why can you do it when it’s the Carrows?” Harry demanded, seizing the first parallel that came to mind. “You have that cousin of theirs on the Wizengamot, but I don’t think you’re going to say she should go to prison along with her cousins who were Death Eaters.”
            “The Malfoys have dominated politics in the Ministry for too long.” Ollondors folded her arms and looked up and down the anteroom as though she thought someone would actually want to spy on her conversation with Harry. “They will never lose that influence unless we rip them out, root and branch.”
            “Fine,” Harry said. “Then you can send Lucius to Azkaban and even Narcissa, maybe.” He wasn’t actually sure how Narcissa’s trial would go. “But Draco doesn’t have contacts in the Ministry.”
            “He has people who would fight for him,” said Ollondors. “Simply because of his name and the reward they might receive in the future.”
            Harry scowled at her. “Is that like people who would condemn him simply because of his name and what his father did?”
            Ollondors nodded once. “I tried to warn you, Lord Potter,” she said, and Harry doubted that her switch to a more formal title was actually a good thing for him. “You will receive no further help from me if you are determined to let a Malfoy drag you down.”
            She turned and marched away to the door that opened into the courtroom. Harry drew in a shaky breath and looked around for Lucius. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to have his friends testify for Draco after all. It would probably just confirm for Ollondors that Draco, like his father and mother, had contacts in the Ministry and politically powerful friends.
            Instead, he found Draco, his body tense and his eyes silent.
            “If necessary, I’ll send your father’s friends away when they get here,” Harry said at once, leaning forwards so that Draco was the only one who could hear him. “It won’t be that great a hardship.”
            “I’ll give up my money, if I have to,” Draco muttered, pressing his eyes closed. “I’ll give up my wand. And I—I don’t want to go to Azkaban, but I would rather do that than get Kissed.”
            “If they sentence you to the Kiss,” Harry said, his mind already spinning with plans, “then I’ll smuggle you out of the country myself, and stand trial for that. Because they might be able to put you in Azkaban, it might be necessary, or right, or just, but getting your soul sucked out because you were caught up in the war isn’t going to make sense when they didn’t do it with Greg, and they’re not even checking the arms of the Aurors in the Ministry for Dark Marks.”
            “Oh, yes, we are, Mr. Potter.”
            Harry jumped and spun around. Auror Stone was a heavy woman; it seemed that she shouldn’t have been able to sneak up on him. But there she was, standing behind him, face calm and bland and cold, as usual.
            “The Ministry would be willing to ignore most of what its people did when the Death Eaters were in charge,” said Stone, with a nod. “But the Ministry also doesn’t want the public scandal that I would raise if they did nothing. So we are checking. And I don’t think that the public would stand for having hundreds of wizards Kissed.”
            Harry swallowed. “Is that the punishment some people are proposing for all Death Eaters?”
            “Some people,” said Stone, without turning a hair. “Other people are arguing that they should all go to Azkaban and be stripped of their personal possessions. Others pointed out that that didn’t work in the first war, and are arguing for them to be stripped of their magic. And some people are saying that the punishments should vary based on their individual cases.” She let her eyes flicker.
            Harry nodded in determination. She agreed with the last one. Well, so did he. Someone like Lucius Malfoy should be punished more than someone in the Ministry who had taken the Dark Mark but had never tortured anyone, and someone like Fenrir Greyback should be punished more severely than Draco.
            “Thank you for your support, Auror Stone,” he said, as formally as he could when he saw the door of the courtroom opening. “Do you think that a submissive demeanor is going to work with people who think all punishments should be the same, or not?”
            Stone studied him for long enough that Harry heard murmuring beyond the door. The Wizengamot would have expected him to enter right away. Snape moved towards the door in his place, turning his head so he could keep Harry and Draco under observation.
            “I think you should remember that not all the people in a group might believe that the punishments should be the same,” Stone said. “And that some people might be your allies where you would never have believed they could be.”
            Then she turned her back and joined the Aurors standing guard around Draco’s parents, and Harry had to guide Draco in with an arm around his shoulders. He knew the stir that would create when Ollondors and her allies saw him. He didn’t care.
            I think I understand. I just wish I understood better. He and Changes had planned and plotted the trials, and they had planned and plotted this one, but Harry had a feeling their plans would have to change. He also didn’t know if he should try to do that on his own.
            I’ll do what I have to. Still better for Draco to go to Azkaban than to get the Kiss.
*
            The barrister spent a long time smoothing down her robes before she spoke.
            Draco didn’t need to look at the faces of the Wizengamot, or Harry’s face, to know that was a bad sign. But he was in the courtroom now, and it would be far more damaging to show his emotions than it was when he was with Harry by himself. He merely sat mute in his chair, and waited for Changes to talk.
            “All of you know the Malfoys,” said Changes, and glanced back and forth from face to face as if making sure that all of them were with her. Draco frowned, then wiped the frown off his face. He didn’t know what Changes was doing. “And you know that many of them have had a reputation for power, politics, and less than forthright and honest dealings.”
            Draco wanted to snort. But he was seated next to his mother now, and she had a grip so tight on his fingers that he didn’t dare.
            “And everyone knows, or should know, that they did not come out of this war untarnished.” Changes began to move, pacing back and forth slowly, her head bowed, her hands clasped behind her back. Draco wondered how much of that came from a scrip, how much from deep thought, and how much from the simple fact that she really didn’t know what to say next. “Two of them carry the Dark Mark. The other hosted You-Know-Who in her home for months.”
            His mother’s hand tightened. Draco could imagine the bitter things she would say, if her voice was her own. He could only squeeze back, though, and shake his head a little. It wasn’t any more advisable for her to speak up right now than it was for him.
            “They should be punished for their crimes,” said Changes. “For any murder and torture they committed, for any support of their Dark Lord they practiced.” She paused and looked straight at Lucius. “For breaking out of Azkaban.”
            Draco thought his breathing was too loud and persistent, and did what he could to suppress it. But then he coughed and only had to start breathing again, and Harry shot him a stern look. Draco nodded back in return to that, and tried his best to fold his hands in his lap again and calm down.
            “But they should not be punished for their reputations,” said Changes, turning to face the Wizengamot again, and her voice was confident enough this time that Draco was sure she had found the tactic she intended to use at last. “For the deeds of their ancestors. Those Malfoys are dead and gone, and they would not necessarily know or care about anything their descendants have done. Wizards and witches of the Wizengamot, let us punish the crimes in front of us today. There are certainly enough of them.”
            “I still want to know why Harry Potter is associating with them,” muttered a witch towards the back. Draco squinted at her, thinking her features were familiar. Yes, she looked like portraits of his Rosier ancestors that he had seen in the Manor.
            “Because he is bound as Lord to one of them,” said Changes, without missing a beat or making it sound as if the question did anything other than bore her. “Now. May I know the formal charges against Draco Malfoy, Madam Ollondors?” She faced that witch with her hands clasped in front of her.
            Draco shot a glance at Harry. Harry nodded at him, but didn’t take his eyes off Changes. Draco bit his lip in response. If Harry was that calm, the least he could do was try to match his serenity.
            “Torture,” said Ollondors, and the light hostility in her voice didn’t fool Draco. He could see the much deeper hostility in her eyes. “Attempted murder of Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. Bringing Death Eaters into the school. Attempting to capture Harry Potter in the middle of the Battle of Hogwarts.”
            "Torture of Death Eaters?" Changes's voice was absolutely calm, but Draco still flinched. He saw Ollondors smile. Changes never looked around.
            "Yes," said Ollondors. "I think the other charges are sufficiently specific that you don't need to ask me to define them further," she added, as Changes opened her mouth.
            "I was not going to argue with you about them, or ask you to define them further," Changes said, with a low bow. "I only wanted to make sure what charges are being applied against Draco Malfoy, and which against his father and mother."
            Ollondors gave Changes a cold frown that was probably meant to be quelling. Draco didn't think he could have resisted it, but Changes must have stood up to worse challenges in her time as a barrister. She only looked back at Ollondors with quiet interest, but no sign of weakening. "I think that torture and attempted murder and murder will be among the charges laid against them as well," said Ollondors.
            Changes smiled. "But not the attempted murder of Dumbledore, or attempting to capture his current Lord in the middle of the Battle of Hogwarts."
            "No," Ollondors conceded, frowning as though she didn't see what Changes gained from making the charges so specific. For that matter, Draco wasn't sure he did, either. Phrased like that, he had done a lot of horrible things, and he didn't see how the Wizengamot would vote other than for death. "Not his parents, for those things."
            "Good," said Changes. "Then I would like to explain the first of the charges, with the help of Lord Harry Potter." She turned and waved a hand up and down at Harry as though commanding him to come forwards. Draco bristled a little. He didn't think someone should casually command Harry, after all he had done for the wizarding world.
            But Harry simply stood and walked over to confront the Wizengamot. He didn't look afraid. He didn't look much of anything. Draco blinked, a little frightened and a little impressed. He hadn't known Harry could hide his emotions like that.
            Maybe it was because, with his vassals, he had never felt the need.
            "I had visions of Voldemort, when the connection through my scar was still active," Harry said. He didn't seem to rejoice in the flinches that that name could still cause; Draco felt one tremble through his father. Then again, Harry might be hiding that sign of emotion, as well. "Sometimes I saw him ordering Mr. Draco Malfoy to torture people. Draco never wanted to, but that was one reason Voldemort ordered him to. He wanted to use someone unwilling to torture people. It suited his sadistic pleasure."
            "But he did torture people," said Ollondors. "You're providing the proof yourself, Mr. Potter."
            "He did," said Harry. "He wasn't very good at the spells, but he did cast them." He turned and looked at Draco. Draco looked back with his stomach churning. Was this the fighting for him that Harry had said he would do? Draco had to grant it was effective, but he thought it might only be effective in sending him to Azkaban.
            "Then why are you arguing with us?" Ollondors studied Harry as though he was the solution to a puzzle. "If you agree that your vassal is guilty of the crimes that would condemn him?"
            "Because I want you to see that he didn't do it out of any sadistic pleasure himself." Harry was looking at her again. Draco clenched his hands. As uncomfortable as having Harry's eyes on him was when he didn't know exactly what Harry was doing, he found he preferred that to having Harry's back turned. "That was the reason. He did it out of fear and weakness, not out of longing to do it, the way that Bellatrix Lestrange or Voldemort himself would have."
            Ollondors snorted softly and shook her head. "Someone who can be defended only by being compared to You-Know-Who himself isn't a paragon of virtue."
            "I never said he was."

            There was some more silence, short but baffled. Then Jenkyns leaned in and said, "Do we need to waste more time on this charge? The sentence for torture is six years in Azkaban."
            Draco felt his head spin. He thought he might actually have fallen if not for his mother's supporting hand, and the warmth from the shield mark on his arm. He knew Harry hadn't abandoned him. He was doing what he thought was the best.
            Except that he thought his definition of what was best and Harry's might not actually agree.
            "Excuse me, sir." Changes was standing up with her hand apologetically raised. "But exactly what kinds of torture, and for how long? Do you assign all torture the same length of six years in Azkaban? From my study of the law, I thought that was for deliberate use of the Cruciatus six times in succession on the same person, or holding someone under it long enough to break their minds, or use of lesser torture spells for up to a week in succession."
            Jenkyns stared at her. Ollondors stared at her. Harry didn't stare, but kept his firm, unsmiling gaze on the Wizengamot. Draco lifted his head and peered from face to face, trying to understand.
            "What does that matter?" Jenkyns snapped. "The sentence for all torture is the same."
            "Ah, but it is not," said Changes, and her voice was sharp. "It cannot be, or there would be no point in discussing the details of a case. But that is exactly what we do, with torture or any other charge. Unless you're going to tell me that we're not going to discuss the details of the charges here because Mr. Malfoy is so obviously guilty, in which case why have a trial?"
            Ollondors brought her hand down sharply. Harry turned his attention to her. Draco swallowed again. He thought maybe they had been trying to anger her deliberately, but why? Until she had started ranting about his family to Harry this morning, she had been their strongest ally on the Wizengamot.
            "You know that he's guilty," Ollondors hissed. "His own Lord admits it! What else do we need? What sort of proof do we need? He deserves to spend the rest of his wretched life in Azkaban!"
            "Then so does anyone who tortured people in the Ministry during the reign of Pius Thicknesse as Minister," said Harry. He didn't sound interested in the words he was saying, or in the way that Ollondors folded her arms and tried to stare him down. "You can bring in all sorts of witnesses, even ones closely related to them, who will say that they tortured, and not because they were under the Imperius Curse. And half the student population of Hogwarts deserves to go to Azkaban."
            "Careful, Mr. Potter," Ollondors breathed. "You are treading a very fine line."
            "No," Harry said, and in the motion of his neck, the stubborn lift of his chin, Draco saw the support he had been missing. "I agree that Draco should be tried for his crimes. But it should be a fair trial. And tell me this, Madam Ollondors. Except from me or my vassals and friends, where are you going to get the details of the crimes that you need in order to condemn Draco? Professor Snape is the one who needs to testify about Draco's attempts to kill the Headmaster and let Death Eaters into Hogwarts from the Death Eater side; he's the only Death Eater witness on our side that you have. My friends and I are the ones who can tell you about the murder attempts on me and the attempt to capture me. I will provide that information, and counsel Professor Snape to provide the same. But you can't arbitrarily assign punishment to Draco that he doesn't merit under the law. If different incidents of torture have different punishments, then he should receive the one that he merits. Not the one that you want to decide on because of his family name or his Dark Mark or anything else."
            The courtroom was tense, silent, full of quiet breathing. Ollondors seemed too enraged to speak, at least from the way she was puffing.
            Then Jenkyns said, "Well. We have to go through this farce of a trial in the first place to get the details. So why don't you tell us what you saw of the torture sessions, Mr. Potter, and we can use that to decide on the punishment?"
            For the first time, Harry smiled.
            He's using Jenkyns and Ollondors against each other, Draco realized abruptly. He can't get me out of spending some time in Azkaban, but he can get me out of spending six years there just because Ollondors hates my family.
            It relaxed him more than he should, to know that the trial would be fair, and his Lord would be fighting for him. He hated the thought of going to Azkaban, but at least he probably wouldn't be Kissed.
            And the mere thought of having someone in his corner, someone who would fight for him and support him even if he was in prison, made hope flare bright in his chest.
*
delia cerrano: Well, the tactic of having people testify for Draco turned out not to be that good an idea after all. But that is what Lucius would have been asking him to do.
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The Only True Lords