Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Freedom Bound in Chains	By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58477 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Harry Potter characters. I did not make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 56
- 57
- 58
A/N: Sorry this chapter is a week late. I haven’t given up on this story at all. RL is very difficult right now and also this chapter kept growing. It’s the length of two chapters in one. I hope to get the next chapter out next Sunday - April 16th - and get back on the usual schedule. Thank you for your support and patience. I look forward to hearing what you think about this one. It was definitely difficult to write.
Justice
Narcissa gave a polite smile as Andromeda stepped through the floo the day after the boys had returned to the manor. Her sister wore a long maroon and grey plaid skirt that fell just above her ankles and a maroon blouse. Her darker hair was pulled up into a messy bun, a few whips framing her heart-shaped face. Her lips were painted a dark red; her eyes were lined with kohl. She had grown into her beauty, holding herself with confidence and grace. In their youth, Narcissa had always been considered the most beautiful of her sisters, however she had grown colder and harsher instead of more graceful.
“I have tea set up in the sitting room,” she said politely and gestured toward the doorway. “If you would care to join me?”
“Of course.” Andromeda bowed her head slightly.
As she followed her sister, they didn’t speak more than polite comments. She took a seat at the table Narcissa had arranged, complimented the tea service, and requested one sugar. She wondered what Narcissa had invited her over to discuss and how long it would take her to get to it.
Narcissa led the conversation, discussing the current trends in Wizarding fashion and soliciting Andromeda’s opinion. As their second cup was prepared, she casually stated, “The boys informed us that there was an event during Samhain.”
Andromeda set her porcelain teacup down with a soft click. “Yes. Our circle drew the attention of the fae. Some of us were called to the Hunt. Others were called to dance.”
“That is what the boys have told us,” Narcissa agreed, daintily lifting her cup and sipping from it. “I was hoping for more details.”
“I’m afraid it’s hard to describe.” Andromeda frowned and tapped a nail on the table in thought. “It was as if I wasn’t myself but more myself than I had ever been before. I don’t remember the kills very well. However, the taste of hot, fresh blood filling my mouth will never be forgotten. I remember feeling like I was riding a massive horse, but at other times it felt like I was running on legs significantly more powerful than my own.” She looked Narcissa in the eyes and grinned fiercely. “The Leader of the Hunt was a powerful fairy, Narcissa. I can’t rightfully describe it. I would have followed his call forever, but we were fortunately led back to the circle instead of spirited away. Those we’d left behind, including my husband, were waiting. He told me that he’d danced in ways that weren’t physical; it was a deeply spiritual experience for him. Others were there, too, including Mama and Reggie. We all danced and ate and drank. I don’t remember it too clearly, but I remember feeling powerful and complete. It was surreal.”
Narcissa hung on her sister’s every word. She couldn’t imagine such an experience and felt honored that her children had been chosen while also feeling jealous. She would definitely make sure she was present during the next Samhain. A rising blush on Andromeda’s cheeks drew her attention and she lifted an eyebrow. “What happened next?”
“Let’s just say I felt invigorated and celebrated that strength with my husband.” Andromeda blushed even darker at Narcissa’s knowing look. She quickly took a sip of the now cool tea to hide her embarrassment.
“What were the children doing during this celebration?” Narcissa asked curiously.
“The children continued to dance, of course.” Andromeda tilted her head curiously. “They are too young for anything else.”
“Even the boys?” Narcissa pressed, heart beginning to beat faster. This was the perfect opportunity to feel Andromeda out on the topic of the boys being together.
Andromeda stared for a long minute, her hazel eyes dark with emotion. Quietly, she said, “I don’t like what you’re implying. Draco may have made it clear that he felt more attached to Harry than is strictly platonic, but they are still young and had only each other for so long.” She chuckled, trying to make light of it. “After all, it’s not unusual for children to say they will grow up and marry their parents. Draco is simply confusing their love for each other as something more than it is.”
“No.” Narcissa refused to play along with her denial. “Their bond makes confusion regarding their feelings impossible. Draco meant what he said.”
Andromeda’s smile became desperate. “You can’t possibly know that. They are too young to truly feel lust. When they are older, they will gain a more natural perspective and be drawn to girls.”
Narcissa could see Andromeda was upset. Her eyes were too wide, her smile too forced, and her breathing had quickened. It told her that Andromeda didn't fully believe what she was saying. A part of her feared the boys would be together in truth. Narcissa considered her next move carefully.
On one hand, Andromeda’s denial let the boys live with her in peace. If Narcissa insisted that Andromeda acknowledge the boys’ true relationship, she may demand some type of mental health treatment. That would lead to Draco refusing to return to Andromeda’s entirely, which Narcissa would love, but Andromeda could then ask the Ministry to enforce the visitation contract. Questions would be asked and shortly thereafter the Ministry and the whole of the Wizarding world would know the boys were gay. Sadly, the public would at best act like Andromeda and make demands for treatment or at worst they could demand the boys’ bond severed and have them admitted to a mental hospital until proof of being cured could be established.
On the other hand, Narcissa didn’t expect Draco to keep their relationship secret while in his other home. Eventually Harry would need something like that shocking puppy game and Draco would not deny him. If Andromeda wasn’t resigned to them being together by that point, then the worst case scenario would likely happen anyway. Narcissa would have to employ all of her Slytherin cunning to make sure that didn’t happen.
With a feigned sigh, Narcissa lifted her cup and took a delicate sip. “Perhaps you are right,” she said lightly. “Draco may mean it now, but he is very young. The young often say things they mean in the moment, but that aren’t true later.”
Andromeda seemed to relax, her smile truer and brighter. “Exactly.”
“But if it were true,” Narcissa continue casually, “it’s a shame the world would be so against it. It’s not like there would be many such couples compared to the more traditional pairs, so what should it matter? Even Merlin formed a triad with Arthur and Lancelot. This fear of homosexuals seems silly.”
Andromeda frowned. Unconsciously she began to twist her cup the way their mother had when she was deep in thought.
Putting a little more bite into her tone, Narcissa added, “Actually, I’m surprised. You threw away so much of what we were taught, why would you hold onto this one?”
Andromeda tensed and glared at her sister. “Is this what you called me here to discuss?”
Narcissa patted her mouth with her napkin and set it on the table. “No. The Aurors finally tracked down the Dursleys to a rocky, abandoned island. They are currently being held at the Ministry for questioning, but they aren’t cooperating. If that continues, Harry will be called to give his memories to the Wizengamot so that a verdict can be made. Your attendance as Harry’s second guardian will be required if it comes to that.”
Andromeda’s eyes narrowed in worry. “How are the boys taking the news?”
“Harry is anxious he will commit some error of course, but Draco has assured him that he will not be returning to the Muggles regardless of anything he does or doesn't do.”
Drumming her fingers on the table, Andromeda asked archly. “Is there a chance the Dursleys will be found innocent?”
Narcissa met her eyes calmly. “None, but if the Wizengamot does fail, others will be ready to step in to make sure justice is done.”
Andromeda smiled coldly. In this she was of one accord with her sister. “Good. Let me know if my assistance is needed in any way.” She stood and fixed the cuffs of her blouse. “Thank you for inviting me to tea, Narcissa. We should do this again soon.”
Narcissa stood and gave a regal nod of her head. She led her sister back to the receiving room and said her goodbyes. Andromeda left in a flare of foo-fire, and Narcissa stood there for several minutes frowning. Had she said enough to plant the seeds of acceptance in her sister’s stubborn head? Only time would tell, but she certainly wasn’t going to give up. Maybe it was time to talk to Severus. He would know of potions that would assist her if Andromeda became troublesome.
…
Lucius sat in his office and plotted. He had no faith in the government to do what was right, and that was the utter destruction of the vile Muggles Harry was unfortunately related to. He was determined to have revenge.
The first step in the plan was to stir up the population a bit. It may be illegal for newspapers to toss speculation around about a minor, but it was perfectly legal for them to report factual information regarding trials and arrests. Lucius whispered in the right ears and suddenly the fact that Harry Potter’s previous Muggle guardians had a trial scheduled at two in the afternoon on November 7th was splashed across several publications. Each demanded in their own way that they hoped justice was done for their hero who had already gone through so much. Lucius also made sure to talk to the highly suggestible and ambitious Cornelius Fudge.
During the war, a young Bartemius Crouch, the then newly appointed Head of the DMLE, had worked hand in hand with Minister Bagnold. They had been heroes, taking decisive and often borderline unethical action against Death Eaters. It was Crouch who authorized his Aurors in using the Unforgivables. He also approved of a kill rather than capture approach. He’d personally overseen the arrests and sentencing of dozens of Death Eaters. However, in mid-December after the Dark Lord had fallen, it came to light that his own son had participated in the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom. Crouch’s star had fallen fast after that.
Which had brought Cornelius Fudge to Lucius’s attention. The man was Barty Crouch’s peer. He had also been involved during the war, acting as Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. He and his department were often first on the scene after battles and Death Eater attacks. He’d helped the Aurors and dealt with the populace during the aftermath, which had built him a considerable reputation. He was ambitious, and as Crouch’s star fell, he became very useful and supportive of Minister Bagnold. Fudge’s star had continued to rise, and now it was his name that was whispered as the best candidate for Minister when Bagnold retired. Lucius had gotten on board early on and had a very strong relationship with Fudge, which he used now, whispering that Fudge’s reputation would become that of a hero if he helped see to it that Harry Potter’s abusers were brought to justice. After all, in just a year, the campaigns for the next Minister would begin in earnest and Dumbledore was still a strong candidate.
“I was one of the first on the scene when Black was arrested,” Fudge told him when Lucius stopped by to pay a visit. “So messy! So many Muggles to Obliviate! So tragic, that Mr. Potter’s own godfather would betray him so thoroughly… You’ve been a good friend, Lucius. You’re an honorable man to take in our Mr. Potter as you’ve done. I give you my word that I will see to it that he gets the justice he deserves.”
“Thank you, Cornelius,” Lucius had answered, heavy with respect. “I knew I could count on your friendship. You will always have mine in return.”
He had pretended not to see the avaricious gleam in the man’s eye as he had taken his leave from Fudge’s office. Lucius wanted him greedy; in fact, the greedier, the better.
Lucius had made a few other calls and visits, and the result was that on the day of the trial the Ministry lobby was filled with Harry Potter supporters and dozens of reporters all waiting to hear the verdict. It also ensured that the Wizengamot was present in full and that the Ministry side was full to capacity with various department Heads, Junior Ministers, the Senior Undersecretary, and the Minister herself. The courtroom hadn’t been so full since the war, officials squeezing in next to each other filling every space.
The stage was set. Now it was up to Draco. He had a feeling his son felt even more strongly about the Dursleys than he did. He’d have to wait and see what his son would do and be ready to support him. Malfoys always got what they wanted.
…
Draco lifted his lips from Harry’s hip, eyes bright.
Harry was panting, his damp hair fanned out around his head - love trust - singing between them. They had just gotten out of the bath and Draco had gently pinched and kissed the healing bruises scattered over the front of Harry’s body, refreshing them and making them sore anew.
“You’re mine now, Harry.” Draco crawled up, never breaking eye contact with his flushed, wide-eyed boy. He put their faces close together and firmly gripped his jaw. “That means if people insult you or hurt you, they’re hurting me. I don’t want you to let others disrespect me by putting you down. Do you understand?”
Harry bit his lip - uneasy nervous.
Draco’s hand tightened on Harry’s jaw, making him focus. “Remember when we went to school? And you stood up to those kids who picked on you? To protect me, to protect us? I want you to do that again for me.”
- uncertainty determination love - “Yes, Draco.”
Draco gave him an easy smile and kissed him, thrusting his tongue deep into the boy’s mouth before pulling away. “Good. Let’s get dressed.”
Draco had chosen to wear black. His day coat fell to mid-thigh and had two rows of large silver buttons going down either side of his chest. They held the coat closed on the side and made it seamless down the front so that it looked like all one piece and vaguely resembled a wizarding robe. (Children under the age of eleven who had not yet learned to work magic did not wear robes except for rituals or very formal occasions.) The lapels of the coat were wide, folded back away from his sternum revealing the white button-down he wore underneath and his black necktie. The end of his white sleeves poked out slightly from the coat sleeve, revealing an inch of white at his wrists. He wore slacks and dress shoes. His hair was tucked securely behind his ears, and pinned over his heart was a thin green stalk with white spiky balls on it. They were chestnut flowers and symbolized the call for justice.
Harry wore a deep red day coat, the red of the House of Potter. It was tighter and more formfitting than Draco’s, hugging his slender frame. It had wide black cuffs and black lapels that opened in a deeper V than Draco’s, revealing more of his white undershirt. He had a thin, red ribbon tied around his throat to hold the white collar of his undershirt closed around his throat, incidentally covering the black collar he never took off. He wore shorts that fell just short of the knee and black socks that came up to mid calf. His dress shoes had higher heels than Draco’s, placing them at the same height. Draco did his best to brush and tame Harry’s hair, but it remained thick and wavy, falling over his ears and into his eyes, covering his forehead. Over his heart, he had two types of flowers: a simple yellow marigold and a few small pink flowers with five open, heart-shaped petals that were white at the base with a yellow center. It was called an Eglantine rose. Marigolds symbolized pain and grief while the Eglantine rose symbolized a wound to heal.
As a final touch, Draco slid the vial of specifically chosen memories into Harry’s pocket and pecked his lips. “You look amazing.”
Blushing, Harry leaned against Draco - love embarrassment.
Draco took his hand and they made their way to the receiving room. Lucius, Narcissa, and Andromeda were waiting for them. Lucius wore a nice suit and over-robe with silver snakes knotted at each side of his neck. His thick blond hair was left unbound and fell free just past his shoulders. His eyes were a bright grey, his expression hard, but he gave a small smile when the boys appeared. Narcissa wore a black wizard robe with tight sleeves and back vines embroidered on them. Underneath she wore a tight floor length dress that was a dark forest green with triangular shapes embedded in the pattern. Her hair was pulled back into a single twist, her eyes a nearly crystal blue. Under a simple black robe, Andromeda wore a loose knee-length dress that was the deep Potter red in Harry’s honor. She’d left her dark brown hair to fall in waves to her shoulders with two beautiful, golden hair combs holding it off her face and pinned on both sides of her head. All three of them had a bulbous, inwardly folded yellow flower pinned to their robes: bird’s-foot trefoil, the flower of revenge.
Narcissa held her hand out to the boys. “Come. It’s time.”
Draco led Harry forward and Narcissa settled her hand on her son’s shoulder. She pulled the boys in close and they whooshed away amid green flames.
Harry stepped free of the floo and into the Ministry lobby. He was anxious. He knew the Dursleys were here and that the Ministry was trying to take him and Draco away back to Privet Drive. It made him queazy, but at the same time his body throbbed in a dozen places, Draco’s collar sat snug against his throat, and the blond’s promise rang through his mind. Draco had told Harry several times they were not going back. Draco had never let him down, he’d never been wrong, so that meant they weren’t going. Still, Draco’s request that he not let anyone disrespect him made him uneasy. He would protect Draco, he’d die for Draco, but he wasn’t sure he understood what Draco was telling him to do.
Coming from the floo hallway, they hit a massive crowd of people. Harry stepped closer to Draco’s side and he felt the blond’s hand tighten almost painfully around his own. Lucius, Narcissa, and Andromeda formed a shield in front of them.
Lucius briefly spoke to Chief McLaggen who had been waiting for them. He had six Aurors with him and they surround their group, helping them get through the crowd without being accosted. Harry’s face heated and he ducked his head as people cheered and shouted good luck. Eventually they made it onto the elevator and Lucius pulled on a lever. Draco wrapped Harry in his arms to cushion the jerky movement as they zipped through the Ministry, and Harry was able to close his eyes and relax in the absolute safety of that embrace.
They stopped on the floor of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Chief McLaggen explained that Harry’s memories would be taken here and would be carried by him, personally, to the courtroom. They passed desks and cubicles all set in seemingly random patterns. People in red robes worked with their heads bent over their papers, but they all stopped and looked up as they passed.
Paper airplanes zoomed through the air going every which way while stacks of files were scattered around the room nearly waist high in some places. Finally they were taken down a hallway where the offices were placed. Chief McLaggen led them to his own personal office. It was large with filing cabinets, a bar, a table with six chairs, a massive desk, shelves for books and magical objects, and plush rugs on the floor.
“If you would like to stay here, I’ll take Mr. Potter to the Obliviator assigned to this case. She is waiting for him only a few doors down.”
“He’s feeling anxious today,” Narcissa spoke in a cool, rational voice. “Would it be permissible if his twin were to accompany him?”
McLaggen looked at Draco questioningly.
“I’ll stay out of the way,” Draco promised, making his eyes big and trying to look innocent.
Harry, of course, was a master of the look and his large, green eyes implored McLaggen to allow it.
With a sigh, McLaggen nodded his head. “Only Mr. Malfoy. We don’t want accusations that Potter’s memories were influenced or tampered with.”
Narcissa bowed her head. “We understand.”
Without further discussion, McLaggen strode from the room, his red robes flaring. Draco followed him and Harry held tight to his hand, doing his best to stay close.
They were taken to a bare room with a table and two chairs facing each other on either side. A woman in black robes stood from a chair. She had dark brown hair, tan skin, and dark brown eyes. She was tall and thin, with a little grey at her temple. Her expression was serious and she didn’t once smile during the brief introduction.
“Obliviator Bellmouth, this is Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. You’re needed to extract the memories from Mr. Potter that would confirm or deny any charges of abuse.”
“Thank you, Chief McLaggen. I will need a moment alone with Mr. Potter,” she answered flatly.
“It’ll be okay, Harry. I’ll be right outside, okay?” Draco said sweetly, squeezing his hand once before letting go. * Give her the vial when she gets close to you. *
Harry watched, heart thumping, as McLaggen and Draco left and the door shut behind them. He turned wide eyes to the woman.
“Sit on the chair. I’m going to put my wand to your temple. You might feel a tug inside your mind, but I’ll try and be quick.”
Bellmouth moved to stand behind him once Harry obediently moved to the chair. He reached into his pocket and lifted his hand to his shoulder where she was touching him. She took the vial from him smoothly as she pressed her wand to his head and stood there quietly for several minutes. Harry remained still, waiting for his next instruction.
After what seemed a long time, she finally stepped away and called for Chief McLaggen to return. Draco was the first in the room and he immediately came and wrapped Harry in a hug. Harry melted against him, but he was feeling pretty calm. Sitting in silence with no one around was peaceful, but his heart picked up as he thought about what would come next.
McLaggen took the vial Bellmouth gave him and led the boys back to his office. Lucius was standing by the bar, but he hadn’t poured a drink. Narcissa and Andromeda came to their feet, having taken seats at the table. Draco and Harry went to stand with the women as McLaggen confirmed the retrieval of the memories and asked if they wished to witness the trial. Lucius confirmed they did.
Harry nearly quivered with nerves. They were about to see the Dursleys. Dark memories stirred in his mind, but Draco put pressure on him mentally through the bond before he could truly panic.
* Don’t think about anything but my marks on you, Harry, * came a firm order. * Feel them now. Count them. They mean you belonging to me. Think about nothing else. *
Harry obediently ducked his head and thought about it. The one on his hips throbbed a lot when he walked or sat because his pants pressed into it, but the hottest ones were on his nipples. He probably liked the bites best, though. The ones where he actually had scabs and the skin had broken. He currently wore three: one on his stomach left of his belly button, one on the juncture of his neck and shoulder just below the collar, and the last on his inner right thigh. He liked how he could touch them and feel the marks under his fingers. It felt more permanent and real somehow, like Draco had meant it more.
Harry was pulled from his thoughts as the elevator doors opened and Draco’s whole body went tense. He’d even stopped breathing.
Lucius, Narcissa, Andromeda, and Chief McLaggen all stepped off the elevator, but Draco remained frozen in place.
Harry’s heart pumped hard as he recognized the look in Draco’s eyes. He planted himself in front of him, his back to the hallway and the adults, shielding Draco from view.
“Draco…” he called softly, searching Draco’s cold, haunted eyes, trying to get the blond to see him.
“Harry?” Narcissa asked, worry in her voice.
Harry shot her a look over his shoulder, his green eyes fierce. “Give him a minute.” He returned his attention to Draco and made eye contact. He was determined to wait as long as Draco needed.
“He’s a little nervous,” Lucius’s voice came from behind him. “Let’s give them a moment. It won’t be long, I’m sure,” he continued, his voice getting softer as they walked some distance away, but all that disappeared as Draco began to whisper.
“You died. I watched you die. I killed you.” His voice was completely flat, without inflection at all. His grey eyes were bleak.
“Draco?” Harry stepped closer, pressing his chest lightly against the blond’s, trying to let him know he was here - love worry.
“Pandora…” Draco’s voice trailed off.
Harry bit his lip. Ever since Draco had come back from wherever Pandora had taken him, he’d had nightmares. At first it was every night, then only a few times a week. Draco would bolt up-right with a scream and then hold Harry painfully tight until Draco’s heart stopped pounding and they could go back to sleep. Harry didn’t know what Draco dreamed or what Pandora had done, but he did know it was his job to heal Draco, to fix him.
He very carefully wrapped his arms around Draco’s shoulders and pulled him down so that his head rested on Harry’s chest. Draco’s hands lifted to grip his waist painfully hard as he listened to Harry’s heart beat.
“I’m alive, Draco. Yours. Always yours. Love you,” Harry swore and let - LOVE calm trust - fill him completely.
Draco’s breathing slowed and after two minutes he straightened. He smoothed Harry’s hair and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I’m okay,” he said softly, his face still pale.
Harry nodded, but he was on alert, watching Draco like a hawk, ready to intervene again if needed.
Narcissa, Andromeda, and Lucius were standing with McLaggen a few feet down the hallway. The hallway itself was strange. It was narrow and made completely of black stone. Torches burned with blue flames and were spaced evenly along the flat, smooth walls. There was a massive grey door at the far end that read: Department of Mysteries, Enter at Your Own Risk.
Luckily, they didn’t go down the hallway toward that imposing door. Instead, they were directed to a door partially hidden by the elevator. There was a narrow spiral staircase there made out of the same glossy black stone. It led them to a room that was thin and wide. The wall across from the stairs was curved, as if they stood outside of a large, circular room. There were chairs along that curved wall for people to sit and wait if necessary and a door along the curve to the far right that had massive iron bands.
“It goes to the dungeon,” Andromeda whispered, noticing where the boys were looking.
McLaggen and Lucius led them to the door in the center of the wall across from the stairs. Harry’s eyes went wide as they passed through that door into a large circular room that was nearly three stories tall. Massive columns with a black base and golden marble pillars on top were placed regularly along the back of the room. Tiered benches were placed around a deep, low stage in the center that was inlaid with a gold and black mandala pattern. Two hundred people filled the room, creating a dull murmur. One section of the benches were filled with fifty people in the plum-colored robes with the silver W embroidered on the breast. They also wore triangular hats and nearly all of them had silver or white hair. The rest of the room was filled with officials in black with smaller groups of lavender and red-robed people representing Child Services and the Aurors.
“This is courtroom ten,” Narcissa explained softly as Lucius led them to seats in the highest, back row near the door. McLaggen continued on to the lowest level where other red-robed Aurors sat. “It’s the deepest and most protected courtroom in the Ministry. It’s only been used a few times in the last hundred years and is reserved for the most high profile cases only.”
Harry’s attention was locked on that cleared stage in the center of the room. Two black chairs sat there currently empty. Chains hung from them. That’s where the Durlseys would sit. He swallowed hard and felt Draco’s hand tighten around his own. Harry forced himself to look at something else.
In front of the chairs was a tall podium with two shorter podiums on either side. Dumbledore, in his plum robe, sat in the shorter podium to the right. His hat was tall and pointed. He also had on heavy silver necklaces with runes hanging from them. A white-wood staff was propped against his side. Abigail Abbott stood at the shorter podium on the left in formal lavender robes. She looked very solemn.
“Those in the plum robes are the Wizengamot,” Lucius explained to Draco in a low voice, gesturing. “It predates the Ministry of Magic itself, dating back to the days of the medieval Wizard’s Council. The Wizengamot is made up of around fifty members. They are nominated by the community and appointed by the Minister or the Chief Warlock, and once they are appointed they usually hold that position for life. They are very respected and influential members of society. As you can see, Dumbledore wears the chains and has the staff of office. He is the current Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. He speaks for them and has certain powers during court or in the passing of new laws.”
“There in the grey robes is the Court Scribe,” Narcissa pointed out. “She took a very specialized potion that quiets the ego and strengthens her observation skills. Her memory will then be extracted and serve as a record of the proceedings.”
“Next to her in white is the Youth Representative,” Andromeda added. “It is always someone in their Seventh-year at Hogwarts, usually the Head Boy or Girl.” She gave them a proud smile. “I once served as the Youth Representative at a trial during my Seventh-year.”
The door opened and absolute silence descended. The Minister walked down the stairs, crossed the stage, and took her place at the center podium. Behind her, Aurors marched Vernon and Petunia Dursley along. They looked spitting mad, terrified, and dirty. They were very firmly shoved into the chairs and the chains snapped to life, binding them tightly and causing Petunia to scream silently, clearly under the effects of a silencing spell.
Harry’s heart instantly began beating hard. He unconsciously shrank in his seat, trying to become small and invisible. Draco wrapped an arm around him and pulled him against his side.
Minister Bagnold clapped her hands. A deep boom filled the room, making the silence deepen further. Suddenly, the slightly nutty and sweet scent of cardamom as well as the earthy, herbaceous scent of white sage and the woody and slightly fruity scent of frankincense lightly filled the room. They were meant to enhance clarity of thought and wisdom.
“I call the court into session,” Bagnold intoned, her expression frightening as light flashed off of her gold-framed glasses. “Shall the one bringing forth the charges of child abuse please state their case.”
Mrs. Abbott stood. “I was informed by anonymous note that Harry Potter still had living relatives. I went to the address indicated and found Petunia Dursley, Lily Evans’ older sister, Mr. Potter’s maternal aunt. I informed her of Mr. Potter’s return and interviewed her. She became emotional. I interpreted that emotion as relief and joy that her nephew was found. However, Mr. Potter’s reaction to the news that he would be returned to Mrs. Dursley’s put into question his safety in her home. I, therefore, requested a full investigation by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”
“And what was found?” Bagnold asked chillingly.
Auror Scrimgeour stood. “I was appointed lead investigator in this case, Minister. I found that the Dursleys had fled their home. It took me several weeks to find them. They had run to a remote island in the hopes they could not be found. The initial interview was met with violence and hostility, so I apprehended them and brought them to holding. They have a son Mr. Potter’s age and I made sure he was put into the care of a blood relative, one Marge Dursley, Mr. Dursley’s sister.”
“Have they answered to the accusations leveled against them?” Bagnold continued.
“No, they have not.”
“Very well.” Bagnold stared down at the man and woman before her. “Vernon Dursley. Petunia Dursley. This is your last chance to offer your memories to this court in your defense.” She waved her wand, allowing them to speak.
“This is illegal!” Vernon bellowed, face nearly purple. “I have rights! I demand you release us at once!”
“Our friends and neighbors will notice us missing!” Petunia shrilled fearfully. “The authorities will be called!”
Bagnold swished her wand once more and the two went silent despite their mouths still moving. “Let the court acknowledge every chance was given to these two to answer to the charge of child abuse. I call into evidence the memories of Harry James Potter.”
McLaggen came forward. He walked past the two Muggles without acknowledging them, as if they were invisible.
The Minister lifted a thin silver bowl and let it go. It floated down to McLaggen and stopped about waist height. He uncorked the vial and poured Harry’s memories in. The bowl lit up and a shimmering window appeared above it, nearly as clear as a Muggle movie screen but maybe half its height and width.
Lucius subtly cast a blinding and deafening charm on Harry.
Draco met his father’s eyes and nodded, while telling Harry within his mind, * You’re okay. Focus on me beside you. You’ll be able to see and hear in a minute. *
Harry turned sideways to cling to Draco’s jacket, pressing his forehead hard against the blond’s shoulder.
On the screen in front of the court, it showed a two-maybe three-year-old Harry in a small room with two toddler beds with rails. In the other bed was a screaming blond boy, red in the face. Baby Harry watched from his bed across the room as the boy threw a teddy out the window in a rage. The boy then screamed and cried louder than ever. Petunia opened the door just as Dudley's screams turned into laughter. His teddy was floating in the air and slowly dropped into the blond toddler's arms.
Rage and fear distorted Petunia’s features as she rushed across the room and slapped the small, dark-haired child across the face. "You little freak! Don't you dare taint Dudley with that vile freakishness!"
Harry - shocked, afraid, hurt - began crying.
Petunia was further enraged and yanked him from his bed. Harry's screams sharpened as his shoulder visibly dislocated. Yelling hysterically about Harry's vileness and freakishness, she searched the house frantically for a place to put him. Then she saw the cupboard under the stairs. Petunia threw it open and tossed the boy inside. The memory became blackness filled with the frightened and painful sobbing of a baby.
A jump in the image, a skip in sound… The room was deathly still and silent. Petunia looked as pale as a ghost, but Vernon’s expression remained furious. To react with such violence and fear toward a child’s first act of magic was blasphemous in Wizarding culture.
The darkness was broken with a painful flood of light as the cupboard door opened. Petunia stood there with a horrible glare. "Freak, get out here and help me."
"Yes, Aunt Petunia,” Harry answered, his voice barely over a whisper.
"You can't help like that, idiot! Go get cleaned up and quickly!"
Harry rushed to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later all the grime and dust was scrubbed from his skin. There was no sign of physical abuse, but the audience could see that Harry was stick thin. He pulled on his over-large, worn clothes and hurried passed the cupboard and into the kitchen.
Petunia stared at him with cold eyes. ”Go over there and make the batter."
Harry rushed to do as she said. He had to carry a step-stool from the kitchen closet to the counter where there was a bowl, a stirring spoon, and cake ingredients. Even with the step-stool he wasn’t quite tall enough, so he had to struggle to do the task she’d assigned, but he did it with relatively practiced hands and without complaint, his head ducked submissively all the while.
“You're disgusting, you know that, freak?” Petunia asked coldly, watching him as he worked. “Can't do anything right. Just like your filthy parents. Died just to get away from you, most likely.”
Harry’s little hands began to shake and some of the egg mix slopped out of the bowl.
“Don't spill, freak!” she shrieked.
Big tears rolled down his cheeks, but Harry did his best to steady the bowl.
“Can't do a bloody thing right! The least you can do is listen, boy! Your no good, filthy mother couldn't listen, and you're just like her! Hold that bowl and stir! Pathetic muling worm!”
Harry was crying too hard to do as she’d ordered and helplessly pulled his arms in close to his chest so that the didn’t make a mess.
“Don’t you dare cry! It's your own fault, you filthy little brat!”
She picked up her broom and swatted him violently, knocking him off the stool and onto the floor. She continued to hit him with the stiff, scratchy bristles until he scrambled back into the hallway and into his cupboard. Again, she slammed the door and the memory ended in darkness.
A jump in the image, a skip in sound… Dark murmurs swept the room. Vernon was yanking on his chains as if he were trying to get free. Petunia had begun to weep.
The memory began with the same flood of light as the cupboard was opened. This time Petunia demanded Harry clean up after Vernon before she stomped up the stairs and a bedroom door slammed. It was night and an even thinner Harry crawled out of the cupboard and went into the living room where a drunk Vernon was breathing hard in anger, slumped in an armchair. He had a glass of amber liquid in his hand. His face was red and shinny, his eyes dark.
“They think they can skip me for the promotion, do they?” he muttered to himself. “I’ll make them regret it! You just wait and see!” Suddenly his eyes focused on the trembling boy pressed against the wall. “Freak! This is your fault, freak! I bet you cursed us!”
He threw his glass and it shattered against the wall inches from the small child’s head. Harry’s cheek began to bleed as glass cut him and he immediately dropped to his knees, clearly cutting them, to begin to pick up the glass.
Vernon spewed more anger and hate, not even making sense. By the time he managed to get on his feet, the glass had been cleaned and Harry was trying to use a towel to soak up the alcohol from the carpet. The fat man staggered over to the boy and stared down at him hatefully, swaying.
“Teach you to mess with my affairs!” he slurred and clumsily tugged his belt off his waist. He wrapped it around his fist and began to bring it violently down on the frail child.
The boy made not a sound as he was beaten. Fortunately, Vernon’s blows were sloppy, but a few solid hits landed on the child’s shoulders and back. The painful crack of leather against skin echoed through the courtroom.
A jump in the image, a skip in sound… The crowd roared with fury. Bagnold and Dumbledore had to work together to create a Silencer wide enough and strong enough to cover them so that the last of the memories could be heard.
Images of Harry on his hands and knees scrubbing with chemicals that visibly burned the child’s hands… Of Harry working in the yard to the point of fainting from weakness and heat exhaustion… Of Petunia beating him with a hot spatula when Harry burnt the bacon… and finally the memory of being sold…
They were in the kitchen. Petunia at the stove, Dudley at the table, and Harry sitting in the corner next to the garbage can.
“Go get your bag for school, Duddykins, and wash your face, love,” Petunia told her son.
Dudley beamed at his mother before running out of the room.
“Wash the floor, freak,” Petunia growled at the poor boy.
Harry scrambled over to the sink and reached underneath for the cleaning supplies. He quickly began to scrub the floor. Dudley had returned by the time he was done, and Harry scrambled back toward the cupboard only to be drawn-up short by a meaty fist.
“Not today, boy. You’re coming with me.”
Vernon practically dragged Harry to the front door by his arm. He took Harry toward the back end of the car. The trunk lid was lifted and Harry had a look of absolute terror on his face. Vernon grabbed the tiny boy by the neck and lifted him completely off the ground, choking him.
“Keep your mouth shut, boy. You’re a worthless piece of shit, you filthy freak. No one wants to hear from you.”
The memory went dark and there was a very brief skip…
Vernon opened the trunk and Harry was dragged out by his arm. It clearly hurt the child. “You’d better be good, freak, or you’ll regret it.”
Harry nodded vigorously and was set to his feet. He followed his uncle toward another car across the empty parking lot. Men climbed out of the car and they talked to Vernon.
“No one wants the freak. No one’ll come looking,” Vernon assured them.
“Let’s hope you’re right because we’ll come back if it ain’t so,” one of the men said and handed over a duffel bag.
Vernon opened it and it was filled with money. “Good riddance,” he muttered and quickly turned back to his car without once looking at the little boy he’d sold.
Harry tried to follow, a look of bleak devastation on the his painfully young face, but a strong arm wrapped around his middle and lifted him up. Harry grabbed onto the man so he wouldn’t fall.
“You’re coming with us, kid,” the man said gruffly.
“W-wait…” Harry stuttered in that soft, barely there voice he had as that arm pressed on his bladder. He was ignored and warm tears spilled down his cheeks as he peed himself.
The man dropped him, face red with rage. “What the fuck!”
Harry’s whole body was jarred as he hit the hard concrete. A kick slammed into his chest, his body flying several feet.
The memory went black…
The room was in a fury. Men and women were on their feet, their fists waved in the air, their faces contorted in rage.
Lucius wanted those filthy animals dead.
Narcissa felt like her insides had broken and all the uneven pieces were grinding against each other, sending splinters of ice and rage through her very soul.
Andromeda sat frozen, a primal rage in her face.
However, none of them looked remotely as scary as Draco. The little blond’s eyes had gone silver. His face seemed etched from ice, all hard angles and hunger. His hand ever so gently cradled the back of Harry’s head to his shoulder as he bared his teeth in a ferocious, deadly smile.
“Is there…” Bagnold could hardly speak past her shock and fury. “Is there anything you’d like to say in your defense?” She sharply waved her wand and allowed the two criminals to speak.
“WE NEVER WANTED THE FREAK!” Vernon bellowed furiously. “He was a burden and a monster! Floating things and making freaky stuff happen! We’re good, normal people! WHO THOUGHT TO GIVE A FREAK LIKE HIM TO A NORMAL FAMILY LIKE US?”
“What were we supposed to do?” Petunia echoed her husband, sobbing. “He could do ANYTHING to us! He could kill us in our sleep like that beast who killed my sister! He could burn the house down around our ears! WHAT WERE WE SUPPOSED TO DO WITH HIM?”
“Not abuse him,” she snapped back before taking a deep breath to calm herself.
Draco reached over to touch Lucius’s arm and gestured at Harry’s head. Lucius nodded and lifted the spell so that Harry could hear and see once more. Big green eyes blinked quickly as they tried to adjust to the sudden light.
Bagnold clapped her hands, creating a boom that quieted the angry crowd. “I call the court to vote. A show of hands if you find the accused guilty of child abuse!”
Every single hand in the room went up. Petunia began to cry loudly, still asking them what she should have done. Vernon, however, had some things to say.
“You can’t judge me! You’re nothing but a bunch of freaks! You aren’t even human! Just wait until my government finds out about you! They’ll make sure you’re wiped off the face of the planet! We should have burned the little freak! We should burn you all at the stake!” he roared hatefully, spit flying from his lips.”
Bagnold silenced the man and his wife. Gravely, he asked, “A show of hands if you find them innocent.”
Not a single hand was raised.
“Then I find Vernon Dursley and his wife Petunia Dursely GUILTY!” the Minister declared and the crowd roared in approval.
Harry squirmed - upset confused guilty - as he watched Vernon and Petunia struggle against the chairs clearly terrified. Draco shushed him and began petting his hair.
Bagnold clapped her hands and the boom made the room reluctantly quiet. “I order the Obliviators to ensure the Dursleys can only tell the truth and release them into the custody of the Aurors who will ensure they face just punishment at the hands of Muggle law enforcement.”
“Ahem.”
Bagnold looked over to see a black clad Cornelius Fudge standing among the officials to the left of her. “I recognize Cornelius Fudge, Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.”
Cornelius gave a smile. “Thank you, Minister. I would like to suggest that such a punishment does not fit the heinousness of this crime. We have a lobby full of people who will not tolerate Harry Potter’s abusers simply being held in a Muggle prison. They deserve a punishment of equal severity to the acts they have committed.”
A roar of approval exploded through the room.
Bagnold had to clap her hands twice before everyone quieted down. “All in favor of an alternate punishment raise your hand.”
A good majority of hands went up, including Lucius, Andromeda, Narcissa, and Draco. Dumbledore’s hand remained down and he had a frown on his face. A good half of the Wizengamot followed his example and kept their hands in their laps.
“An alternate punishment passes,” Bagnold announced. “What punishment are you suggesting, Cornelius?”
“I suggest a life sentence in Azkaban,” he declared.
A loud murmur rose as everyone considered the fate of the two Muggles in such a place. It was essentially a torturous death sentence.
“I recommend a total memory erase,” Mrs. Abbott stood up and suggested gravely. “They should start their lives over and hopefully make better use of it in the time they have left to them.”
“I recommend the Dementor’s Kiss!” an elderly man from the Wizengamot cried. “What they did to Harry Potter is unforgivable and their actions should be treated the same as the frequent use of an Unforgivable Curse! The punishment for which is the Kiss!”
As the courtroom yelled in shock and approval, Dumbledore stood. A hush slowly defended as he grabbed his staff and came down to the center of the floor near where Petunia and Vernon continued to struggle in magically induced silence.
“Good people,” he began, voice reaching to every corner of the room. “I implore you to think past the anger of seeing young Harry Potter’s past. I implore you to remember Harry is well cared for, loved, and protected in the homes of Lord and Lady Malfoy and Mrs. Tonks. He has a twin and a rare magical bond. He is a happy, healthy boy. These people are despicable, their actions deplorable, but they were unable to destroy Mr. Potter. They were unable to break his spirit.”
Draco felt like hissing like a furious cat. What the hell did this man know about Harry’s spirit? Like hell those animals down there in those chairs hadn’t broken him! Harry had shattered and had nearly become an Obscurus! It was Draco who put together all those broken pieces. It was Draco who held back the darkness instilled by those evil bastards! Draco couldn’t bare to live knowing the ones who had hurt Harry, tortured him mind and soul, would continue breathing as if what they had done was acceptable.
Dumbledore turned in a circle, making eye contact with everyone in the court. “Harry was saved, ladies and gentlemen. He has put this evil behind him. We do not need to add to that darkness by breaking with the letter of the law and adding more evil and suffering to the tale. I implore all of you to reconsider and be satisfied with the justice of having these people judged and condemned by their own society. Let them feel the sting of hatred from their own people, locked away and deplored for their actions by their peers. You do not want their death or injury to mar young Harry’s heart. It is our job to protect him from further pain not inflict more upon him! I implore you to vote to release them into Muggle custody!”
As murmurs rose from the court, a few people began clapping. Draco nearly growled. He could see that Lucius was just as appalled. Narcissa grew dangerously blank-faced while Andromeda placed a supportive hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry was panting, wide-eyed and confused. Draco held him tightly, but everything was growing too intense as the arguments continued and the court grew louder and more contentious.
Bagnold clapped, calling for silence as Dumbledore returned to his place at his podium. “We have four sentences presented to this court: life in Azkaban, a total memory-erase, the Dementor’s Kiss, and returning the Dursleys to the Muggle world to be imprisoned. I will allow each presenter a few minutes to argue their case before I make my decision. Cornelius, if you would?”
Fudge stood and came to stand by the prisoners, following Dumbledore’s example. He cleared his throat, his eye caught Lucius’s up in the highest row and he flushed. “Yes. Thank you, Minister. The trouble is that Muggle prison is far from uncomfortable. It is true that their freedom would be constrained and they would face judgement from society, however they would also receive regular meals, access to activity outside, and given an occupation during the day. It’s not pleasant by any means, but neither is it truly terrible. On the other hand, Azkaban was designed by our forefathers as a place that would truly punish those who have committed evil. It is the only place such corrupt souls can truly be made to understand the pain they have inflicted on others. We must remember everything that Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, has sacrificed for the good of our world. We must take responsibility and see true justice done!”
A rousing cheer went up at his words and he beamed happily as he took his seat.
Bagnold waited several minutes for the court to quiet down. “Thank you, Cornelius.” Her eyes went to Abbott’s. “Department Head Abbott, why do you support a total memory erase?”
Abigail stood where she sat, choosing not take the floor as Dumbledore and Fudge had done. Still, her voice was clear and strong. “These people have committed unforgivable acts against an innocent child. A mind-erase would erase the personality that had committed such horrible crimes and give these souls a chance to redeem themselves in this life just as Mr. Potter was given a second chance at a happy childhood. Chief Warlock Dumbledore spoke well. The Dursleys’ suffering will not change what they have done. All we can do is try and protect the future. Erasing their memories would do that without burdening Mr. Potter further.”
No one clapped as she took her seat.
“Thank you, Mrs. Abbott.” Bagnold looked to the group of plum-robed members. “Lord Ogden, what do you have to say for your proposed action?”
The elderly man slowly made his way down the stairs to the center floor. He had shoulder-length white, wavy hair, brown eyes, and a furious glare. “I’ve seen cases where children have been beaten and cursed within an inch of their life. I’ve seen parents call their offspring every vile word in the book and seen children disowned. I’ve even seen cases where children have been raped,” he began, his voice like thunder as he stared down at the Dursleys. “I’ve seen cases where parents have murdered their own children, but NEVER in my life have I seen two people despise a child so thoroughly. Even the most vile abusers valued their children more than you did Harry Potter. Your UNRELENTING hatred was monstrous! That boy was constantly dehumanized and treated worse than a slave! To do that to a child… and to one as young as Mr. Potter was in your care…” Ogden reached out and slapped first Vernon and then Petunia. The hits were given with his full strength and left their cheeks burning red. “The Kiss is the only thing you deserve.” He spat at their feet, fury in his eyes, and then turned and made his way back up the stairs.
For a long moment there was silence and then a loud, roaring cheer exploded throughout the court.
Draco was grinning, blood-lust in his eyes. He wanted to scream his approval. He vowed to remember Ogden. He would not forget the words the man spoke on Harry’s behalf.
“Silence!” Bagnold boomed, clapping her hands several times. “Silence.”
It took many minutes but eventually the noise died down. The Minister opened her mouth, likely to ask them to vote, but Dumbledore stood once more. He leaned on his staff, his blue eyes piercing as he swept the crowd.
“Before the Minister calls for the vote,” he intoned gravely. “I’d like to ask Mr. Potter if he’d like to speak as this crime was made against him.”
There were gasps, as the majority of the room had not realized Harry was there.
Tears rolled down Harry’s cheeks - panic confusion fear - swamping the bond. He pressed himself hard against Draco’s side and underneath the blond’s sheltering arm. He stared unblinking back at Dumbledore, struck completely mute. Even had he wanted to talk, he was physically unable to. Simple decisions sent him into a panic attack. One this significant was nearly enough to make him snap completely, but Draco was there and his presence was hot and heavy against his mind, keeping him relatively calm. - Draco owned him. He was Draco’s. Draco would take care of him. - He focused on that over the thunder of his own heartbeat and held on.
For Draco, the room took on crystal clarity the way it had when he’d been pushed to his breaking point by Raymond in the Hold. He stood, pushing Harry into Narcissa’s arms without ever removing his gaze from Dumbledore’s form. He stood, tall and proud, his whole bearing projecting authority.
“How dare you,” he said lowly. He stared Dumbledore down for a long moment before his crystal gaze found Ogden. “Thank you, sir. You are the only adult here who truly respects my twin.” His eyes turned to sweep the gathered court. “From the beginning, this trash has been treated with respect while you have treated Harry as if he were worthless.”
Draco’s voice, high and clear as a bell, sliced through the rising murmurs of denial. “You did not pull the truth from their minds even though they ran from your questions! Even though they have shown you their anger and hate! Instead you called Harry here to relive those horrible memories. You claimed it was for justice. As if Harry should have to pay for it! As if it’s not due him! You sit there arguing over their futures as if they deserve one after completely destroying Harry’s!”
Dumbledore opened his mouth, but Draco slashed his hand violently in warning, causing the old man to pause.
Glaring and fierce, Draco exclaimed, “Harry had no future after these disgusting animals got through with him! It was our bond that saved him; it was LUCK! Had he been left on his own, sold and broken, Harry WOULD have died.”
Turning his piercing glare to the Minister, Draco challenged her. “You’ve protected these animals, cared about them and their rights even as you watched them break Harry down until he was barely able to speak. On top of that, you allow your Chief Warlock to put the responsibility back on Harry’s shoulders. As if giving his memories and watching this continue isn’t burden enough, you force Harry to have to beg for justice.” Eyes flashing to Dumbledore, he accused, “Or was your intent to shame him for needing it?”
Facing the members of the court, he flung his arms wide and yelled proudly, “Well, I am not afraid. I am not ashamed! I demand our rights not the rights of vicious child abusers be respected and acknowledged! I, Draco Malfoy, magical twin of Harry James Potter, do hereby call for the DEATHS of Petunia Dursley and Vernon Dursley for the monstrous abuse they inflicted on Harry, Boy-Who-Lived and Savior of the Wizarding World! That is our answer. What is yours?”
Whispers erupted as Draco continued to stand there and challenged both the Minister and Dumbledore.
- confusion terror -
* They treated you bad because you’re special. Just like I’m special. Remember, Harry? That’s why we can kiss and you can heal me. I’m like you and they would treat me like that. They would hurt me and put me in the dark. Like they did you. I have to show them that I won’t allow it. I won’t let them put us in the dark! *
- protectiveness anxiety fear need - Harry pulled free from Narcissa’s embrace and helplessly reached for Draco’s back, not daring to actually touch him.
Without looking, Draco reached his hand back. Harry took it eagerly and was pulled to his feet. Draco positioned him so that he was facing outward, his back held firmly to Draco’s chest. The blond wrapped him in a tight embrace that didn’t let him take a full breath.
Harry stared down at his aunt and uncle, short of breath and wild-eyed. He didn’t understand why everyone was upset. He was a filthy Freak. It’s normal to hate Freaks like him. BUT! But he was more than a Freak now. He was Draco’s. Draco loved him though he didn’t deserve it at all. Draco was amazing and bright and smart and strong and beautiful. Harry would not let ANYONE put Draco in the dark!
“I won’t let you hurt Draco,” Harry whispered madly, green eyes beginning to glow. “Draco said die.”
Draco’s eyes widened as he felt the surge of blackness in Harry’s magical core. Harry’s magic was strong and gentle and healing, but there was a core of insane, destructive darkness tucked away deep down where all the pain and self-hatred lived and it was about to explode. Harry had been pushed too far today. Draco felt the sting of anger at himself for getting carried away and not realizing how close Harry was to snapping. He had seconds to act or the whole of the court would see just how close to an Obscurus Harry had become.
Draco spun them around as the torches in the room fluttered, the whole room going dim and dark. An oppressive, ominous weight pressed down on them all. A woman screamed. Draco forced Harry to his knees and curled over the boy’s back, his arms still wrapped around the smaller boy. He pulled Harry’s hair hard, yanking his head to the side and exposing his throat. He bit down on the juncture of Harry’s neck and shoulder, making Harry gasp and go limp.
* Good boy. That’s it. Let it all go. I’m here. I’ll take care of you. Trust me, Harry. Be still and trust me. I’ve got this. I’ll tell you when to act. Do what I say, Harry. Prove you’re mine… *
His voice trailed off as he felt Harry’s darkness retreat as the boy forced it back under Draco’s mental chains. He was completely limp by this point and sobbing, saying sorry again and again. Draco carefully loosened his jaw and released Harry from the painful bite. A little blood rose up under Harry’s white shirt where Draco’s canines had pierced his skin.
- remorse fear self-hate trust -
* I’m going to make you sleep. I’ll take care of you when you wake up, * Draco promised.
Harry nodded weakly, the bond throbbing with - gratitude remorse love anxiety.
“Put him to sleep,” Draco rasped, voice hoarse. He looked up into his mother’s eyes, pain darkening them to a stormy grey.
Narcissa obediently cast a Stupefy and Harry folded unconscious over the seat.
“Take us home?” Draco asked and clumsily pulled himself up to sit on the bench next to Harry. He barely noticed the obscuring curtain around them so that the court could not see or hear them clearly. He looked over to Lucius. “Tell me the results when you get home.”
“I will,” Lucius promised solemnly, eyes filled with emotion as he acknowledged his son’s pain and exhaustion.
Narcissa glanced at her sister. “Would you cast a Lightening Charm?”
Andromeda, pale-faced, did as asked. She said nothing as Narcissa pulled Harry’s sleeping body into her arms, the boy’s legs hanging around her waist, his head balanced on her shoulder. One of her arms supported Harry’s butt, the other was placed securely across his back, her hand supporting his head. Draco followed closely at her heals. Andromeda chose to stay with Lucius and watch the rest of the trail.
As soon as Narcissa and the boys left the room, the door shutting behind them, a roar erupted as people began to shout and argue. Dumbledore was speaking to the Wizengoamot and Fudge was arguing with some of the black-clad wizards representing the Ministry. Vernon and Petunia sat still and silent, the fight having left them. No one spoke to Lucius or Andromeda. They sat stone-faced while waiting for the verdict.
Minister Bagnold also sat in silence, ignoring all the noise. She waited for nearly half an hour before the noise began to die down and then clapped her hands. “I call the court to order!” she yelled. “Silence!”
The room became silent and those standing retook their seats.
“We’ve had enough time to deliberate. It is time to place our votes. I will ask those of you in favor of life in Azkaban to raise your hand.” Hands rose and the Minister dutifully counted them. It took her a few minutes. She confirmed the number with Dumbledore and Abbott. “Please note there were eighty-four hands raised,” she intoned.
“I will ask those in favor of turning the Dursleys over to Muggle justice to raise their hands.” A significantly fewer number of hands lifted, mostly those in lavender and a few in plum-colored robes. “Please note twenty-nine hands were raised.”
“I will now ask those of you in favor of a total mind erase to raise their hands.” No hands were lifted, not even Abbott’s. She had voted for Muggle justice, convinced by Dumbledore’s speech. “Please note no hands were lifted.
“Finally, I would like you to raise your hand if you are in favor of the Dementor’s Kiss.” Again a large number of hands were lifted in the air. Again Bagnold counted and confirmed the number with both Dumbledore and Abbott before announcing it. “Please note eighty-seven hands were raised.”
Minister Bagnold stood and stared down at the man and woman chained before her. “I hereby sentence Petunia Dursley and Vernon Dursely to the Dementor’s Kiss.”
A slow but steady clapping started as the court signaled their approval.
Bagnold looked out at all of them. “Those of the court who wishes to absent themselves while the sentence is carried out may leave at this time. However, I ask those of you who voted yes to remain and witness your justice. If at any time before the Kiss has been given three of your number change their minds, the sentence will be revoked and the condemned will be sentenced instead to life in Azkaban.”
As if Lucius or Andromeda would miss it. They sat triumphant and did not acknowledge the fifty or so court members who trickled out of the room.
Conversations started up as everyone waited. Lucius, Andromeda, Bagnold, and Dumbledore remained aloof and silent. In just under an hour, five Aurors escorted a magically leashed Dementor into the room. Instantly the temperature dropped. Everyone clumped together in fear as the creature glided past. The echoes of moans could just be heard if you listened hard enough and the faint sound of a never-ending in-drawn breath. Death and despair spread from its unholy form as it drifted over to the two Muggles screaming helplessly within their chains, their voices Silenced. They could not see the dark creature creeping ever closer, but they could feel it.
Lucius watched avidly as the dementor chose Petunia first. He noticed from the corner of his eyes as many court members looked away. A few men and women had begun to silently cry. A skeletal hand wrapped around the woman’s face and pressed down on her jaw, forcing her to open her mouth wider than was natural, dislocating it. The cloaked figure then bent down and began to suck. A light as small as a pebble began to lift up her throat and out of her mouth, devoured by the heartless creature. Petunia fell slack, her eyes dull and empty, her jaw hanging uselessly with drool already trickling out of the corners of her mouth.
Vernon was next and it went the same as it had with his wife. It was done.
The Aurors immediately leapt forward and leashed the dementor once more, leading it from the room. It remained deathly silent; the chill lingered. Some could not look at the drooling, empty wrecks left behind. Others couldn’t tear their eyes away. A very solemn Minister stood and looked down at the now mindless, soulless Muggles.
“Today was a dark day indeed,” she said quietly into the perfect silence. “Justice has been served.” She turned to McLaggen who stood blank-faced by her podium. “Chief McLaggen, please escort these people to Dursley’s sister. She will have to arrange for their future care or not as she so chooses.”
“Yes, Minister.” McLaggen gave a bow. When he straightened, he gestured for a few of his Aurors to assist him and they guided the Dursleys from the room.
Lucius was very careful to watch them as they walked passed. He knew Draco would want to see every last detail when he reviewed Lucius’s memory. He was also careful to note the expressions of the court members as they left the room. He made sure to give Lord Ogden a respectful nod. The man had a look of grim satisfaction on his face that Lucius was certain was mirrored on his face. Finally, the room was empty and he rose to his feet. Andromeda followed him silently.
The lobby was a mess as reporters and civilians bombarded those leaving the Ministry with near feverish questions. They had seen Narcissa as she carried an unconscious Harry past and towing a blank-faced Draco. Over an hour later, the empty shells of the Dursleys had been escorted out. Now the grim court members had finally begun to leave. They wanted answers and their would be riots if they didn’t get them.
Lucius didn’t stop to listen to Minister Bagnold finish her speech, informing the public of the guilty verdict and the decision reached after reviewing the evidence to sentence the Muggles to the Kiss. He would read all about it in the paper, he was sure. Plus, he wanted to get home and tell Draco the good news. Today they had won.
Chapter end.
A/N: I look forward to hearing what you think about this chapter. It was difficult to write.
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Freedom Bound in Chains