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Author's Note:
As I mentioned in the summary, this oneshot was written as a response to a challenge on The Owlery (a general Harry Potter forum I enjoy visiting). This is probably one of the longest oneshots I have ever written and, like most of my oneshots, has the potential to become a chaptered fic. The title is temporary, so if any of you can think of something better please tell me. Anyway, enough of my rambling- sit back and enjoy the show. Oh yeah, don't be bashful about correcting any errors you spot- criticism will only make me a stronger writer. ^.^
Post War Romance
"It's hard to believe it's been two years since she...she..." Hermione choked back a sob, unable to finish her sentence. Ron Weasley, her boyfriend of four years, put a comforting arm around her shoulder, his blue eyes glazing over with tears.
"I should have been there to protect her," he said, shaking his head as he placed a rose on the tombstone in front of them. Hermione took his hand in hers and they stared at the picture in front of them- a pale, marble tombstone surrounded by vivacious and lively flowers; a cruel reminder of the irony of life and death.
"There wasn't anything we could have done, Ron," she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. "By the time we got there, she was already...gone." Ron nodded; his shoulders were slumped in defeat.
"I suppose we should leave before we're late," he mumbled, pulling his girlfriend away from the heart-wrenching tombstone. "G'bye Ginny," he whispered before they Disapparated.
The long, mirrored hall was full of chattering people- reporters, businessmen, government officials, and, most importantly, the guests of honor: survivors of the Final Battle. They were all dressed in somber, respectful clothing; even Tonks had dulled her hair down to a dark blue-black for the occasion. The loud din of voices lowered as the Minister of Magic assumed his place on the stage. He straightened his black tie nervously before beginning.
"On this day, four long years ago, brave witches and wizards fought for the deliverance of all wizardkind from the cruelty of Lord Voldemort," the grey-suited man began; now that the war was over, not even the meek slip of a man who called himself the Minister of Magic was afraid of saying Voldemort's name out loud. "Today we are gathering to honor the courageous people who helped rid the world of the darkest evil of a soulless man. Without the sacrifices these heroes have made, our futures would certainly be dim, if not nonexistent. Let us raise our wands together in salute to the fine witches and wizards behind me-" he paused, lifting his wand high above his head, "lumos."
"LUMOS." The spell echoed throughout the hallowed hall; spots of light, like little beacons, grew on the tips of every wand- reflecting off the mirrors in a brilliant glory. The long line of witches and wizards behind the Minister showed their gratitude in a mixture of ways. Perhaps the most lasting impression was left when Molly Weasley literally collapsed into the arms of her eldest son, sobs shuddering through her large form. Hermione leaned against Ron, her cheeks moist with the tears she had been holding back for years. Ron kissed the top of her forehead, his own eyes glistening.
-----
"I'm sorry Miss, but the ceremony has already started," the guard in front of the large mahogany doors of the memorial hall explained. The woman couldn't be any older than his own daughter would have been and her tearful pleas struck his heartstrings.
"Are you sure we can't just slip in the back?" her companion asked, putting his arm around the crying red-haired woman. The woman shook her head, shrugging out of the older man's embrace.
"It's fine. Let's just go... we shouldn't have come anyway," she muttered, trying to push past him. He grabbed her by the arm firmly.
"We didn't come all this way for you to chicken out, Weasley," he whispered into her ear. The guard looked at them suspiciously. All of the Weasleys had checked in earlier, certainly the man had misspoken.
"Please sir, she hasn't seen her family since the end of the war and I'm sure they're extremely worried-"
"I understand," the guard said with a warm smile. "There will be an intermission soon, I suppose I can let the two of you slip in then." The young woman's face broke into a large grin, a spirited youthfulness masking the hard lines on her forehead.
"Thank you so much!" she whispered, shaking his hands gratefully. He studied her youthful, freckled face that was framed by long wavy locks of red... she was a spitting image of Molly Weasley when she was, oh twenty years of age...
"Excuse me, Miss, but might I have your name? For the records, you see," the guard explained.
"Ah..." the jovial expression slipped off of her face, and she turned to look at the man beside her with a worried expression. He merely rolled his slate-gray eyes.
"Ginevra Weasley and guest," he stated calmly. The guard's eyes widened considerably.
"You must be joking... little Ginny Weasley died about, oh, two years ago..."
"Sir, do I look like I am joking?" the man snapped, drawing back his hood.
"Draco, please, you're frightening him," the woman, who claimed to be Molly Weasley's only daughter, yelled. The guard nodded thoughtfully as he eyed the man with suspicion.
"Ah, I'd recognize those eyes of yours anywhere. You'd be Lucius Malfoy's son wouldn't you? The one who's wanted for murder?" the guard growled, his hand itching for his wand.
"I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about," the gray-eyed man remarked, stepping away.
"I told you we shouldn't have come!" the girl, for that's all she really was, cried.
"Would you be quiet? Your mouth has gotten us in enough trouble!" he snapped at her. Once anger sparked in the young woman's eyes, the guard had no doubts as to who she was. Only one other woman with hair like that had as much of a temper as her- Molly Weasley.
The doors swung open of their own accord, signaling the beginning of the intermission. The guard pointed to the red-haired woman.
"You, Miss Weasley, may go right in... you, however, Mr. Malfoy, will need to stay right here," he said, aiming his wand at the young Malfoy.
"Draco..." Ginny said, placing a hand on his elbow. The wild-eyed boy nodded towards the doors.
"Go ahead, Weasley. Run along to your family... and Potter, if he's still waiting for you like you've hoped," he added with a sneer. Ginny gave him a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek, ignoring his last comment. He stared at her silently.
"Thank you, Draco," she said, before running through the doors.
-----
For the first time in a long while, Hermione Granger was taken completely by surprise. The dead did not come back to life- that was a fact that even the darkest magic couldn't alter; as was proven by the soulless half-life Tom Riddle had lived before Harry Potter finally gave him his rightful end. However, despite the facts, Ginny Weasley was before them, alive and breathing. Well, as long as her mother didn't hug her too tightly.
"Ginny, my darling Ginny! I knew you weren't dead! You were always too smart of a girl!" she sobbed, petting her daughter's head lovingly. Ron watched on in horror, afraid he was seeing a ghost, or perhaps all of them had gone mad. His sister had been dead for two years; he had just visited her grave. "Oh if your Da could just see you... you've grown into such a beautiful woman... Ginny, my Ginny!"
Bill, Molly's eldest son, stepped to the side of his mother and put a comforting hand on her quaking shoulders.
"Mum, the doctor said for you not to get too excited. Perhaps you should sit down for a bit..." he whispered, looking past Ginny as if he couldn't see her. It wasn't until she noticed the odd opacity of his eyes that she knew he couldn't see her even if he wished to. His face had long since been scarred beyond recognition, but now he had lost his sight. Fate was a cruel mistress indeed.
"Bill..." she started, touching him on the shoulder. He smiled sadly, large tears forming in the corners of his damaged eyes.
"I know you're there, Ginbug. I can smell that flowery scent you've always had... no matter how often you rolled in the mud to get rid of it, it's always clung around you..." he whispered. She smiled, wiggling out of her mother's embrace to give her oldest brother a fond hug.
"Hey, what about me?" Ron asked jokingly, his voice cracking mid-sentence. Bill helped his mother to a seat, stumbling a bit himself, and Ginny sat down next to Ron, her smile seeming a permanent fixture.
"How are things, Ron? Are you married to Hermione yet?" Ginny joked, sending the still shocked brunette a wink. Hermione smiled slowly, hesitant in every action as if the reappearance of her old friend had made her question everything, even the simplest of movements.
"Not yet, the stubborn wench still won't have me," he answered back with his own wink. The moment passed, leaving a nostalgic aftertaste in their dry mouths. "Where've you been Ginny?" Ron asked, his eyes darkening. Ginny frowned, her eyes lowering to her worn robes.
"Ron, it's a long story... perhaps another time, yeah?" she mumbled, avoiding his eyes.
"Ginny..." he warned, making it clear that he would not be moved on this subject. She nodded, taking a glass of water from a passing tray. She took a large swallow before staring into the contents of the glass, ready to begin her tale.
"It was the last day of the Final Battle, perhaps the last hour. I was getting cocky I suppose, not quite thinking right; I didn't even bother being quiet when I snuck up on the camp of Death Eaters. I had my wand ready and the curse was just on my lips when I was attacked from behind. I must have been knocked out, because when I came to, I was inside some sort of dungeon, alone and cold...
"I tried to move off of the table I was on, but I was strapped to it like some sort of Frankenstein creation on a lab table. I was about to scream when he spoke.
" 'I wouldn't make a sound if I were you, Wealsey' is what he said. I recognized his voice almost immediately. After all, you don't forget the voice of the boy who terrorized you throughout all your school years. It was Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius Malfoy, as rotten to the core as his father- as most said.
"'I have you hidden well. If you scream, it'll ruin my fun.' He was always calm when he talked, as though everything was going according to his plan. Then again, I suppose it was. So I kept quiet. I pretended I was playing the silent game; I couldn't make a sound or I was out. We were both playing a game, neither of us really admitting to the seriousness of the situation. I could die if he chose. He would die if he were caught. He gave me some bread and a bit of water, just enough to sustain me really, and then left. It went on like that for days until I found out why he had captured me.
"'You could have gotten yourself killed the way you were barging into that camp,' he had explained. At first I didn't believe him- why would Draco Malfoy save me from certain death? I figured he didn't want his buddies to have all the fun. Instead, he captured me for his self- his own little plaything... a doll he could bend to his will, or break in half. It seemed weeks had passed before I really began to believe him. He hadn't done anything besides keep me alive- he didn't even enter my prison except to take care of me. He freed me from the table only so I could bathe or relieve myself. However, by the end of the first five weeks, he let me roam my prison without restraint- no longer trapped on the cold stone slab.
"Every so often, he would come in just for companionship, for someone to talk to. I learned that he had recently been framed for the murder of his aunt Bellatrix and a young Auror a few months before, so he had to hide from both sides of the war- both of them wanted his blood. Conversations where he was completely unguarded were few and far between, but I learned enough to not be terrified of him as I once was.
"For a month or so things went on in that fashion. Until, one night, he woke me up, his hands full of luggage. We Disapparated from wherever it was that we were staying, I never truly found out, and began a long trek across the countryside. The grey, bleak weather told me we were still in England- where, I didn't know. We traveled for days on end until we checked into a small Muggle inn as a honeymooning couple. He paid the employees good money to leave us alone, and all was well. It turns out one of his old friends had somehow managed to track him down, and he showed up once again at the inn. We ran, leaving the Muggles to be slaughtered. For nights I had nightmares about that...
"I... I'm sorry..." Ginny cried, pausing to recollect herself. She took the moment to gauge her brother's reaction. His mouth was set in a grim line and his face was pale.
"Perhaps we should save the rest of the story for another time..." Hermione suggested with a small smile. Ron shook his head, running a shaking hand through his ginger hair.
"No, I want to know..."
Ginny nodded and resumed her story.
"I suppose, if things had been different- if he hadn't been as protective as he was, or if I hadn't been so desperate- I would have come home much sooner...
"I had been staying with him for over a year when I tried to escape the first time. I barely made it past our campfire when he caught up with me. He didn't grab my arm, he just stood in front of me- leaving me plenty of room to pass by him and run away into the cover of night. He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes made me stand still long enough for me to realize that I had nowhere to go. I had long lost hope of anyone finding me, and even if I did escape, I had no idea where we were. I would get lost, I would starve, but most importantly, I would be alone. All of my life I've been accustomed to being surrounded by people who love me; I presume that is why I was so afraid of being out in the wilderness without a companion. It was then that I realized with startling clarity that Malfoy was no longer The Enemy, he was merely a man I was traveling with.
"It took a while for him to trust me again; I believe he was just as scared of being alone as I was. We were traveling across the country in uncertain times; the war was over and the Ministry had yet to reorganize and take a firm hold on the government. Robbers and cutthroats hid in the bushes by the roads, so we traveled unmarked paths in the forest. Often, we ran into other refugees- they had set up small camps in the wilderness, their campfires dotting the woods like small stars. The refugees would always let us stay for a night, give us a decent meal, and send us on our way- no questions asked. Suddenly, old rivalries didn't matter. We were all just people fighting to survive.
"We stopped by a small shire outside of Dumfries. It was there that Draco got hold of the first issue of the Daily Prophet either of us had seen in years. I didn't ask him how he found it; I didn't really want to know. It wasn't that important to me at the time. We looked through the list of the missing that they printed daily, which slowly grew smaller as time wore on. I scanned the list frantically but my name failed to appear. We thumbed through the list of those presumed dead and I gasped- Ginevra Molly Weasley. I was listed beneath Cameron Warrington, who I remember as a Slytherin as dumb as he was large.
"After seeing my name listed as dead, I lost all hope. Certainly no one was looking for me now. Perhaps I had been forgotten. Surely Harry had moved on. Draco didn't check for his own name; he knew he was still a wanted man. We left the small village quickly and darted back into the wilderness; the woods had become our home, as comforting as they were spacious. Though Draco's presence had become more calming than it had once been, I still longed for my family and friends. I still longed for my Harry. Draco knew, and maybe that's why he never made any advances beyond friendship. In my heart I still belonged to Harry, the boy who had always been a man in my eyes..."
Ginny paused once more, using her napkin to dap at the corners of her eyes. Hermione was silent. Ron stared at his sister as though he hardly knew her. In two short years she had changed so much, yet she still clung to romantic delusions that should have ended years ago.
"He's in Boston," Hermione said finally, answering the question that Ginny couldn't bear to ask. "He left England after the war. He said he wanted a fresh start somewhere where no one would know his name." Ginny nodded slowly.
"I should have known Harry wouldn't wait for me," she whispered, tears pricking her eyes. "I just... These past two years, thinking of him has been what kept me going..." Ron shook his head angrily.
"He owled us a few weeks ago. Apparently, he's settled down with one of those American Muggles. He didn't even invite us to the wedding," Ron added mournfully. "Though I suppose we wouldn't have gone anyway. Not after what he did to you... He didn't even come to your funeral, you know. Harry left as soon as the dust on the battlefield settled. He didn't bother cleaning up the mess he made either. We were such stupid kids; following him against the Ministry once Voldemort was gone. Harry never understood our world or he would have left the government to the politicians instead of trying to get us involved. I'm surprised the Ministry rebounded as quickly as it did." Hermione nodded in agreement.
"I guess I should be happy for him, eh?" Ginny mumbled. The three of them sat in silence for a moment, a new trio for a new age.
"Ginny, if you don't mind me asking... what happened between you and Malfoy? You make it seem as though you were beginning to develop feelings for each other," Hermione explained. Ginny glanced at Ron hesitantly. He gave her a small, reassuring nod and she began to speak again.
"With each passing day it became more apparent to me that perhaps Draco had become just as fond as me as I was of him...
"For nearly two years we had kept silent about the night when he had captured me. Yet, unasked questions constantly plagued my mind. I still wondered why he had bothered to save me that day; surely he couldn't have done it out of the goodness of his heart. So, one night when the sky was clear and the maiden moon was shining proudly, I asked him.
"'Why did you capture me that night?' were my words. He wasn't as surprised by my question as I thought he would have been.
"'Well, you wouldn't be any use to me dead,' was his reply. Draco's eyes were always startling, but underneath the moonlight they seemed somewhat natural, as if they belonged among the stars and moonbeams. Perhaps it was because I hadn't seen a man of any account besides him in near two years. Perhaps it was lunacy. Nevertheless, I found myself hoping that maybe he cared for me, that he had saved me from the Death Eaters because he secretly longed for me.
"He had always been jealous of Harry when we were in school; maybe, just maybe, I was one of the things he was most envious of. We didn't speak anymore that night. I wanted to ask him again, but was terrified that he would elaborate and that I might be right. My heart still ached a bit for Harry and I couldn't bear the thought that I was moving on, towards Draco Malfoy, no less.
"That night was one of the coldest nights we had to endure. We only pitched one tent that night, we only made one cot- we slept side by side, each reveling in the heat the other emitted. I understood that after I was home I would miss moments like that. It was a harrowing realization.
"The next morning I awoke to find him gone. I panicked, searching around our campsite frantically; my eyes brimmed with tears despite my efforts to remind myself that if he were truly gone I would finally be free. I sat down by the ashes of the previous night's fire, staring as dawn spread her golden wings across the countryside, aiding the sun in its ascension. I sat in that way, my head cradled in my shaking hands, for what seemed like hours but was really less than thirty minutes. I heard his heavy footsteps, twigs snapping, but didn't bother looking up. Perhaps it was an illusion.
"'Well, you're up early.' I looked up at him, barely believing my eyes. In that moment I truly hated him- how could he be so calm when moments earlier I felt as though my world was falling away from me?
"'I want to go home,' I told him. How could he look startled? Did he honestly think I enjoyed being his hostage?
"'Then you have the perfect opportunity,' he said finally. Then he showed me the front page of the paper he had picked up from a town nearby. There would be a memorial service held in the honor of the brave people who fought during the Final Battle against Lord Voldemort. I almost felt guilty because I knew that my face lit up at the news while his fell into shadows. I was a free woman; even when he bound me, I was free. Draco would never know that sort of freedom again, for he was still a wanted man. I could go back to my family and friends and live as I once did. What did he have to go back to- a jail cell?
"But he still brought me here. Despite everything, he brought me here," Ginny finished, staring at her hands nervously. Hermione gave Ron a significant look.
"Ginny, did he leave before he was seen?" she asked urgently, placing a hand over her friend's shaking ones. Ginny shook her head, her eyes glistening.
"I told him that he shouldn't have come. The guard at the front door recognized him..." her voice broke, guilty tears spilling over her cheeks.
"Ron-" Hermione began. Ron nodded and stood up.
"I know. I'll do what I can. Ginny," he addressed his sister, "did you see where the guard took him?" Ginny shook her head.
"He just pulled Draco to the side... please, Ron, if it weren't for Draco I wouldn't be alive... I know that you may not trust him, but please, do this for me?" she pleaded. Ron smiled.
"Of course." And then he left.
-----
Draco refused to cry out when the guard's foot connected with his jaw; nevertheless, his breath rushed out of him in a pained hiss. The guard spat on the ground next to Draco's face.
"I hope they hang you for what you've done. None of that poison business for you, Malfoy. No siree, an old fashioned hanging is what you deserve," the guard growled, giving him another sharp kick in the ribs. They were in the alley between the memorial hall and a large corporate building; either no one heard what was going on, or they didn't care enough to stop it. "You killed my Susie, you did!" the guard yelled, drawing his wand. Draco smirked at him, his teeth red with blood.
"I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I said it was an accident," he mused. The guard let out an angry cry.
"I'd kill you myself. If I didn't want to see you rotting in jail so badly, I would kill you my damn self."
"Go ahead, Bones. I'm not afraid of dying," Draco hissed. Luther Bones, grieving father of Susan Bones, raised his wand, ready to damn his soul with a single spell.
"Av-"
"That's enough, Bones!" Ron Weasley shouted, his wand drawn and aimed at Luther's head. Luther dropped his wand in surprise; Ron Weasley, a war hero and his superior, was sticking up for a wanted criminal whose very name represented everything he stood against. "Step away slowly, Luther," Ron instructed, summoning Luther's wand towards him. Bones scrambled after his wand but Ron's hand was too quick for him. Luther scowled at the loss of his weapon.
"Sir, he's a wanted criminal," Bones explained; he hated having to grovel to a man who was at least twenty years his junior. Ron nodded, pocketing the other Auror's wand.
"I am well aware of that, Luther," Ron stated, "however, because of the recent bill passed in the ministry, even wanted criminals like Malfoy fall under the protection of the law until his trial has passed." Luther swore and spat at the ground; everything was changing in the wizarding world and he didn't like it one bit. "So, until Mr. Malfoy here is proven guilty- you can't lay a hand on him..." Draco slowly stood up, brushing dirt from his pants; as if that would do any good- he was already outlandishly unkempt from being in hiding for so long.
"And for the record- I'm not guilty," Draco muttered, glaring at the balding man who had just beat the living daylights out of him. The muscle in Luther's jaw twitched and he clenched his fists at his sides. If it weren't for the huge mess it would make of his career, he would get things over with and kill the little shit on the spot.
"Now, Bones, I'd like it if you'd pop by HQ and get some back up... it's time to finally capture this bastard," Ron added, his ears reddening with his anger. Draco rolled his eyes as he saw Luther's pleased grin before the old Auror Disapparated. Ron turned to the blond haired man standing next to him. "Well, Malfoy, aren't you going to run?" Draco looked up at him sharply.
"What?"
"I'm giving you the opportunity to escape; I'd advise you to take it. Though many years have passed since you allegedly killed Susan Bones, the Wizengamot is still as vindictive as ever," Ron explained casually. Draco stared at him blankly.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked suspiciously. Ron gave a small, strained smile.
"I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for my sister," Ron answered. He studied the other man's face carefully and was surprised to see that a little warmth crept into his eyes at the mentioning of Ginny Weasley.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"For some reason she feels indebted to you," Ron explained. He figured that if Ginny truly did care for Malfoy, as disgusting as the thought was, she should tell him in her own time. Matchmaking was not an affair Ron meddled with, at least, not since the horrible disaster of setting Harry up on a date with Gabrielle Delacour. Draco let out a scoffing sound.
"I don't need to take charity from Weasleys," he stated. Ron rolled his eyes; some things never changed. However, for his little sister's sake, Ron hoped that Draco Malfoy was one of the few things that did.
"In that case- Draco Malfoy, you are under arrest for the murder of Susan Bones-"
"You forgot Bellatrix Lestrange," Draco interrupted with a bitter smile. Ron continued unapologetically. The Ministry didn't bother themselves with the murders of Death Eaters.
"You have the right to remain silent; anything you say or do can be used against you in the court of law..."
-----
Draco's trial was set for the following Monday. The Daily Prophet jumped on anything and everything to do with the trail, which, of course, included interviewing Ginny Weasley as much as possible. However, Ginny didn't give them the traumatized victim story they had hoped for- the story she had given, one of forgiveness and friendship, was never printed. Perhaps they would save it if that horrible boy turned out to be as good as the poor girl thought. Until then, the articles were chock full of anything that would sway the public's opinion- DRACO MALFOY- CONTINUING HIS FAMILY'S MURDEROUS LEGACY, was a prime example of their favorite headlines.
On the day of the trial, the court was full of judgmental witches and wizards. About fifty court members entered the dimly lit room and everyone, save Draco Malfoy who was bound to his chair by magical chains, stood up respectively.
"Trial 7,200- the murder of Susan Bones. Let it go on record that the accused, Draco Malfoy, has decided to represent himself in this trial-" the chief justice called down to the clerk.
"What is he thinking?" Ginny whispered to Hermione, who was sitting by her side. Hermione shook her head in disbelief.
"The accused has provided a witness for his case... will a Miss Ginevra Weasley come to the stand?"
Ginny stood up slowly and made her way through the whispering crowd. She pulled her light blue cardigan around her tightly; the glances and glares sent from her peers were giving her chills. An Auror approached her and placed her hand on a large silver box.
"Do you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, by the magic that flows in your blood from the same blood that flowed through the very veins of Merlin himself?" the Auror asked. Ginny nodded.
"I do," she said loudly. The Auror took out a bottle of veritaserum from the box and poured a serving into an ancient looking, engraved goblet. She swallowed the potion obediently and sat down at the witness's stand. For the next hour she gave a detailed account of the two years she spent with Draco Malfoy. The chief justice looked her over thoughtfully.
"Do you have any suspicion in your mind that may lead you to believe that Draco Malfoy did in fact kill Susan Bones?" he asked slowly. The other justices regarded her with shielded eyes. Ginny stared at the old man defiantly.
"Perhaps before I spent so much time with him I would have said yes, but after these past two years I would have to say no. There is no way that Draco Malfoy could murder someone-"
"Even if he had been ordered to do so?" one of the younger justices spoke up. Ginny faltered.
"I..." she paused to gather her thoughts. "Look at him. Does he look like a person who would take orders? Mr. Malfoy has too much pride to commit murder just because someone told him to-"
"So you believe that he could, in fact, commit murder?" the same young justice pressed. Ginny fought to keep from scowling.
"To protect someone else? Yes. But I don't think he could kill someone out of cold blood," Ginny stated firmly. The young justice whispered something to the chief justice. The older man nodded.
"Miss Weasley, do you have feelings for Mr. Malfoy"? Ginny hesitated; willing her thoughts to take a far less shocking turn.
"With all due respect, I fail to see how that has anything to do with this trial," she answered, staring down at her hands.
"Miss Weasley, if you are conspiring in any way with the accused, your account will be stricken from the records, and my colleagues and I will have to pass judgment without considering any of your previous statements," the chief justice explained calmly. Ginny was appalled.
"Is this how our justice system works? Is my testimony going to be considered void only because I care for this man? If anything, my feelings should make his case stronger. After all, who could love a murderer?"
"I see. We have no further questions for the witness," the chief justice said. "You may take a seat, Miss Weasley."
Ginny exited the witness stand and made her way back to her seat. She avoided Draco's gaze when she walked by the chair he was bound to. The courtroom was buzzing from this new development. The reporter for the Daily Prophet was already starting on his next article- a tale of a poor, young girl who was manipulated for the use of a disturbed madman; it wouldn't be the first time such things had happened to the youngest Weasley. Ginny sat down next to Hermione. Her shoulders slumped dejectedly as she watched the justices converse with each other.
"I just ruined his case didn't I?" she whispered tearfully. Hermione gave her hand a comforting squeeze.
"I don't understand. The Wizengamot has used the testimony of loved ones in other cases of this nature. I don't see why they wouldn't include your testimony in the records. Perhaps you did make his case stronger... Your family is highly respected in society; I believe the justices will take that into consideration. After all, you're just as much of a war hero as the rest of us; your testimony should be valued," Hermione answered with a small, nervous smile. The courtroom grew silent as the chief justice of the Wizengamot stood up.
"May it go on the record that on the third hour of trial number 7,200 Draco Malfoy was found guilty of murdering Susan Bones," the justice said slowly. Ginny felt her inside grow cold. The chains binding Draco to the chair disappeared as two large Aurors grabbed him by either arm. Ginny watched on numbly as Draco was led out of the courtroom. One of the Aurors, a large man with brilliant red hair peaking out from his hat, gave them a subtle wink. Hermione bent down to whisper in Ginny's ear.
"Be ready with Plan B," she whispered. Ginny nodded, pulling her wand out of her robes. The two women followed the crowd of people as they exited the courtroom. Hermione and Ginny stood by the corner of the court building, waiting for the two Aurors whom had Draco bound to them to pass by. "All right, Ginny, get ready to disapparate," Hermione said, giving her friend's hand a quick squeeze.
"Thank you so much, Hermione," Ginny whispered back, letting go of her hand. In a moment of chaos from flashbulbs of magical cameras going off and reporters pushing forward, the two Aurors lost their grip on the 'guilty' prisoner. Ginny rushed forward and grabbed his arm. In a CRACK they disapparated. A few seconds later, they landed in a pile of hay. Ginny coughed and picked out pieces of straw from her hair as Draco stared at her.
"Do you realize what you've done, Weasley?" he asked quietly. She gave him a cheeky grin.
"Of course, I just saved the man I love," she answered. For the first time in the two years she had been around him, Ginny saw Draco smile.
"I hope you're prepared to rough it. Being a wanted criminal isn't easy business," he said, standing up. She placed her hand in his, giving him a confident smile.
"I think I can handle it," she whispered before placing her lips on his. And so, Ginny Weasley gave up any chance of returning to her old, normal life. Quite frankly, she didn't care.
As I mentioned in the summary, this oneshot was written as a response to a challenge on The Owlery (a general Harry Potter forum I enjoy visiting). This is probably one of the longest oneshots I have ever written and, like most of my oneshots, has the potential to become a chaptered fic. The title is temporary, so if any of you can think of something better please tell me. Anyway, enough of my rambling- sit back and enjoy the show. Oh yeah, don't be bashful about correcting any errors you spot- criticism will only make me a stronger writer. ^.^
Post War Romance
"It's hard to believe it's been two years since she...she..." Hermione choked back a sob, unable to finish her sentence. Ron Weasley, her boyfriend of four years, put a comforting arm around her shoulder, his blue eyes glazing over with tears.
"I should have been there to protect her," he said, shaking his head as he placed a rose on the tombstone in front of them. Hermione took his hand in hers and they stared at the picture in front of them- a pale, marble tombstone surrounded by vivacious and lively flowers; a cruel reminder of the irony of life and death.
"There wasn't anything we could have done, Ron," she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. "By the time we got there, she was already...gone." Ron nodded; his shoulders were slumped in defeat.
"I suppose we should leave before we're late," he mumbled, pulling his girlfriend away from the heart-wrenching tombstone. "G'bye Ginny," he whispered before they Disapparated.
The long, mirrored hall was full of chattering people- reporters, businessmen, government officials, and, most importantly, the guests of honor: survivors of the Final Battle. They were all dressed in somber, respectful clothing; even Tonks had dulled her hair down to a dark blue-black for the occasion. The loud din of voices lowered as the Minister of Magic assumed his place on the stage. He straightened his black tie nervously before beginning.
"On this day, four long years ago, brave witches and wizards fought for the deliverance of all wizardkind from the cruelty of Lord Voldemort," the grey-suited man began; now that the war was over, not even the meek slip of a man who called himself the Minister of Magic was afraid of saying Voldemort's name out loud. "Today we are gathering to honor the courageous people who helped rid the world of the darkest evil of a soulless man. Without the sacrifices these heroes have made, our futures would certainly be dim, if not nonexistent. Let us raise our wands together in salute to the fine witches and wizards behind me-" he paused, lifting his wand high above his head, "lumos."
"LUMOS." The spell echoed throughout the hallowed hall; spots of light, like little beacons, grew on the tips of every wand- reflecting off the mirrors in a brilliant glory. The long line of witches and wizards behind the Minister showed their gratitude in a mixture of ways. Perhaps the most lasting impression was left when Molly Weasley literally collapsed into the arms of her eldest son, sobs shuddering through her large form. Hermione leaned against Ron, her cheeks moist with the tears she had been holding back for years. Ron kissed the top of her forehead, his own eyes glistening.
-----
"I'm sorry Miss, but the ceremony has already started," the guard in front of the large mahogany doors of the memorial hall explained. The woman couldn't be any older than his own daughter would have been and her tearful pleas struck his heartstrings.
"Are you sure we can't just slip in the back?" her companion asked, putting his arm around the crying red-haired woman. The woman shook her head, shrugging out of the older man's embrace.
"It's fine. Let's just go... we shouldn't have come anyway," she muttered, trying to push past him. He grabbed her by the arm firmly.
"We didn't come all this way for you to chicken out, Weasley," he whispered into her ear. The guard looked at them suspiciously. All of the Weasleys had checked in earlier, certainly the man had misspoken.
"Please sir, she hasn't seen her family since the end of the war and I'm sure they're extremely worried-"
"I understand," the guard said with a warm smile. "There will be an intermission soon, I suppose I can let the two of you slip in then." The young woman's face broke into a large grin, a spirited youthfulness masking the hard lines on her forehead.
"Thank you so much!" she whispered, shaking his hands gratefully. He studied her youthful, freckled face that was framed by long wavy locks of red... she was a spitting image of Molly Weasley when she was, oh twenty years of age...
"Excuse me, Miss, but might I have your name? For the records, you see," the guard explained.
"Ah..." the jovial expression slipped off of her face, and she turned to look at the man beside her with a worried expression. He merely rolled his slate-gray eyes.
"Ginevra Weasley and guest," he stated calmly. The guard's eyes widened considerably.
"You must be joking... little Ginny Weasley died about, oh, two years ago..."
"Sir, do I look like I am joking?" the man snapped, drawing back his hood.
"Draco, please, you're frightening him," the woman, who claimed to be Molly Weasley's only daughter, yelled. The guard nodded thoughtfully as he eyed the man with suspicion.
"Ah, I'd recognize those eyes of yours anywhere. You'd be Lucius Malfoy's son wouldn't you? The one who's wanted for murder?" the guard growled, his hand itching for his wand.
"I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about," the gray-eyed man remarked, stepping away.
"I told you we shouldn't have come!" the girl, for that's all she really was, cried.
"Would you be quiet? Your mouth has gotten us in enough trouble!" he snapped at her. Once anger sparked in the young woman's eyes, the guard had no doubts as to who she was. Only one other woman with hair like that had as much of a temper as her- Molly Weasley.
The doors swung open of their own accord, signaling the beginning of the intermission. The guard pointed to the red-haired woman.
"You, Miss Weasley, may go right in... you, however, Mr. Malfoy, will need to stay right here," he said, aiming his wand at the young Malfoy.
"Draco..." Ginny said, placing a hand on his elbow. The wild-eyed boy nodded towards the doors.
"Go ahead, Weasley. Run along to your family... and Potter, if he's still waiting for you like you've hoped," he added with a sneer. Ginny gave him a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek, ignoring his last comment. He stared at her silently.
"Thank you, Draco," she said, before running through the doors.
-----
For the first time in a long while, Hermione Granger was taken completely by surprise. The dead did not come back to life- that was a fact that even the darkest magic couldn't alter; as was proven by the soulless half-life Tom Riddle had lived before Harry Potter finally gave him his rightful end. However, despite the facts, Ginny Weasley was before them, alive and breathing. Well, as long as her mother didn't hug her too tightly.
"Ginny, my darling Ginny! I knew you weren't dead! You were always too smart of a girl!" she sobbed, petting her daughter's head lovingly. Ron watched on in horror, afraid he was seeing a ghost, or perhaps all of them had gone mad. His sister had been dead for two years; he had just visited her grave. "Oh if your Da could just see you... you've grown into such a beautiful woman... Ginny, my Ginny!"
Bill, Molly's eldest son, stepped to the side of his mother and put a comforting hand on her quaking shoulders.
"Mum, the doctor said for you not to get too excited. Perhaps you should sit down for a bit..." he whispered, looking past Ginny as if he couldn't see her. It wasn't until she noticed the odd opacity of his eyes that she knew he couldn't see her even if he wished to. His face had long since been scarred beyond recognition, but now he had lost his sight. Fate was a cruel mistress indeed.
"Bill..." she started, touching him on the shoulder. He smiled sadly, large tears forming in the corners of his damaged eyes.
"I know you're there, Ginbug. I can smell that flowery scent you've always had... no matter how often you rolled in the mud to get rid of it, it's always clung around you..." he whispered. She smiled, wiggling out of her mother's embrace to give her oldest brother a fond hug.
"Hey, what about me?" Ron asked jokingly, his voice cracking mid-sentence. Bill helped his mother to a seat, stumbling a bit himself, and Ginny sat down next to Ron, her smile seeming a permanent fixture.
"How are things, Ron? Are you married to Hermione yet?" Ginny joked, sending the still shocked brunette a wink. Hermione smiled slowly, hesitant in every action as if the reappearance of her old friend had made her question everything, even the simplest of movements.
"Not yet, the stubborn wench still won't have me," he answered back with his own wink. The moment passed, leaving a nostalgic aftertaste in their dry mouths. "Where've you been Ginny?" Ron asked, his eyes darkening. Ginny frowned, her eyes lowering to her worn robes.
"Ron, it's a long story... perhaps another time, yeah?" she mumbled, avoiding his eyes.
"Ginny..." he warned, making it clear that he would not be moved on this subject. She nodded, taking a glass of water from a passing tray. She took a large swallow before staring into the contents of the glass, ready to begin her tale.
"It was the last day of the Final Battle, perhaps the last hour. I was getting cocky I suppose, not quite thinking right; I didn't even bother being quiet when I snuck up on the camp of Death Eaters. I had my wand ready and the curse was just on my lips when I was attacked from behind. I must have been knocked out, because when I came to, I was inside some sort of dungeon, alone and cold...
"I tried to move off of the table I was on, but I was strapped to it like some sort of Frankenstein creation on a lab table. I was about to scream when he spoke.
" 'I wouldn't make a sound if I were you, Wealsey' is what he said. I recognized his voice almost immediately. After all, you don't forget the voice of the boy who terrorized you throughout all your school years. It was Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius Malfoy, as rotten to the core as his father- as most said.
"'I have you hidden well. If you scream, it'll ruin my fun.' He was always calm when he talked, as though everything was going according to his plan. Then again, I suppose it was. So I kept quiet. I pretended I was playing the silent game; I couldn't make a sound or I was out. We were both playing a game, neither of us really admitting to the seriousness of the situation. I could die if he chose. He would die if he were caught. He gave me some bread and a bit of water, just enough to sustain me really, and then left. It went on like that for days until I found out why he had captured me.
"'You could have gotten yourself killed the way you were barging into that camp,' he had explained. At first I didn't believe him- why would Draco Malfoy save me from certain death? I figured he didn't want his buddies to have all the fun. Instead, he captured me for his self- his own little plaything... a doll he could bend to his will, or break in half. It seemed weeks had passed before I really began to believe him. He hadn't done anything besides keep me alive- he didn't even enter my prison except to take care of me. He freed me from the table only so I could bathe or relieve myself. However, by the end of the first five weeks, he let me roam my prison without restraint- no longer trapped on the cold stone slab.
"Every so often, he would come in just for companionship, for someone to talk to. I learned that he had recently been framed for the murder of his aunt Bellatrix and a young Auror a few months before, so he had to hide from both sides of the war- both of them wanted his blood. Conversations where he was completely unguarded were few and far between, but I learned enough to not be terrified of him as I once was.
"For a month or so things went on in that fashion. Until, one night, he woke me up, his hands full of luggage. We Disapparated from wherever it was that we were staying, I never truly found out, and began a long trek across the countryside. The grey, bleak weather told me we were still in England- where, I didn't know. We traveled for days on end until we checked into a small Muggle inn as a honeymooning couple. He paid the employees good money to leave us alone, and all was well. It turns out one of his old friends had somehow managed to track him down, and he showed up once again at the inn. We ran, leaving the Muggles to be slaughtered. For nights I had nightmares about that...
"I... I'm sorry..." Ginny cried, pausing to recollect herself. She took the moment to gauge her brother's reaction. His mouth was set in a grim line and his face was pale.
"Perhaps we should save the rest of the story for another time..." Hermione suggested with a small smile. Ron shook his head, running a shaking hand through his ginger hair.
"No, I want to know..."
Ginny nodded and resumed her story.
"I suppose, if things had been different- if he hadn't been as protective as he was, or if I hadn't been so desperate- I would have come home much sooner...
"I had been staying with him for over a year when I tried to escape the first time. I barely made it past our campfire when he caught up with me. He didn't grab my arm, he just stood in front of me- leaving me plenty of room to pass by him and run away into the cover of night. He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes made me stand still long enough for me to realize that I had nowhere to go. I had long lost hope of anyone finding me, and even if I did escape, I had no idea where we were. I would get lost, I would starve, but most importantly, I would be alone. All of my life I've been accustomed to being surrounded by people who love me; I presume that is why I was so afraid of being out in the wilderness without a companion. It was then that I realized with startling clarity that Malfoy was no longer The Enemy, he was merely a man I was traveling with.
"It took a while for him to trust me again; I believe he was just as scared of being alone as I was. We were traveling across the country in uncertain times; the war was over and the Ministry had yet to reorganize and take a firm hold on the government. Robbers and cutthroats hid in the bushes by the roads, so we traveled unmarked paths in the forest. Often, we ran into other refugees- they had set up small camps in the wilderness, their campfires dotting the woods like small stars. The refugees would always let us stay for a night, give us a decent meal, and send us on our way- no questions asked. Suddenly, old rivalries didn't matter. We were all just people fighting to survive.
"We stopped by a small shire outside of Dumfries. It was there that Draco got hold of the first issue of the Daily Prophet either of us had seen in years. I didn't ask him how he found it; I didn't really want to know. It wasn't that important to me at the time. We looked through the list of the missing that they printed daily, which slowly grew smaller as time wore on. I scanned the list frantically but my name failed to appear. We thumbed through the list of those presumed dead and I gasped- Ginevra Molly Weasley. I was listed beneath Cameron Warrington, who I remember as a Slytherin as dumb as he was large.
"After seeing my name listed as dead, I lost all hope. Certainly no one was looking for me now. Perhaps I had been forgotten. Surely Harry had moved on. Draco didn't check for his own name; he knew he was still a wanted man. We left the small village quickly and darted back into the wilderness; the woods had become our home, as comforting as they were spacious. Though Draco's presence had become more calming than it had once been, I still longed for my family and friends. I still longed for my Harry. Draco knew, and maybe that's why he never made any advances beyond friendship. In my heart I still belonged to Harry, the boy who had always been a man in my eyes..."
Ginny paused once more, using her napkin to dap at the corners of her eyes. Hermione was silent. Ron stared at his sister as though he hardly knew her. In two short years she had changed so much, yet she still clung to romantic delusions that should have ended years ago.
"He's in Boston," Hermione said finally, answering the question that Ginny couldn't bear to ask. "He left England after the war. He said he wanted a fresh start somewhere where no one would know his name." Ginny nodded slowly.
"I should have known Harry wouldn't wait for me," she whispered, tears pricking her eyes. "I just... These past two years, thinking of him has been what kept me going..." Ron shook his head angrily.
"He owled us a few weeks ago. Apparently, he's settled down with one of those American Muggles. He didn't even invite us to the wedding," Ron added mournfully. "Though I suppose we wouldn't have gone anyway. Not after what he did to you... He didn't even come to your funeral, you know. Harry left as soon as the dust on the battlefield settled. He didn't bother cleaning up the mess he made either. We were such stupid kids; following him against the Ministry once Voldemort was gone. Harry never understood our world or he would have left the government to the politicians instead of trying to get us involved. I'm surprised the Ministry rebounded as quickly as it did." Hermione nodded in agreement.
"I guess I should be happy for him, eh?" Ginny mumbled. The three of them sat in silence for a moment, a new trio for a new age.
"Ginny, if you don't mind me asking... what happened between you and Malfoy? You make it seem as though you were beginning to develop feelings for each other," Hermione explained. Ginny glanced at Ron hesitantly. He gave her a small, reassuring nod and she began to speak again.
"With each passing day it became more apparent to me that perhaps Draco had become just as fond as me as I was of him...
"For nearly two years we had kept silent about the night when he had captured me. Yet, unasked questions constantly plagued my mind. I still wondered why he had bothered to save me that day; surely he couldn't have done it out of the goodness of his heart. So, one night when the sky was clear and the maiden moon was shining proudly, I asked him.
"'Why did you capture me that night?' were my words. He wasn't as surprised by my question as I thought he would have been.
"'Well, you wouldn't be any use to me dead,' was his reply. Draco's eyes were always startling, but underneath the moonlight they seemed somewhat natural, as if they belonged among the stars and moonbeams. Perhaps it was because I hadn't seen a man of any account besides him in near two years. Perhaps it was lunacy. Nevertheless, I found myself hoping that maybe he cared for me, that he had saved me from the Death Eaters because he secretly longed for me.
"He had always been jealous of Harry when we were in school; maybe, just maybe, I was one of the things he was most envious of. We didn't speak anymore that night. I wanted to ask him again, but was terrified that he would elaborate and that I might be right. My heart still ached a bit for Harry and I couldn't bear the thought that I was moving on, towards Draco Malfoy, no less.
"That night was one of the coldest nights we had to endure. We only pitched one tent that night, we only made one cot- we slept side by side, each reveling in the heat the other emitted. I understood that after I was home I would miss moments like that. It was a harrowing realization.
"The next morning I awoke to find him gone. I panicked, searching around our campsite frantically; my eyes brimmed with tears despite my efforts to remind myself that if he were truly gone I would finally be free. I sat down by the ashes of the previous night's fire, staring as dawn spread her golden wings across the countryside, aiding the sun in its ascension. I sat in that way, my head cradled in my shaking hands, for what seemed like hours but was really less than thirty minutes. I heard his heavy footsteps, twigs snapping, but didn't bother looking up. Perhaps it was an illusion.
"'Well, you're up early.' I looked up at him, barely believing my eyes. In that moment I truly hated him- how could he be so calm when moments earlier I felt as though my world was falling away from me?
"'I want to go home,' I told him. How could he look startled? Did he honestly think I enjoyed being his hostage?
"'Then you have the perfect opportunity,' he said finally. Then he showed me the front page of the paper he had picked up from a town nearby. There would be a memorial service held in the honor of the brave people who fought during the Final Battle against Lord Voldemort. I almost felt guilty because I knew that my face lit up at the news while his fell into shadows. I was a free woman; even when he bound me, I was free. Draco would never know that sort of freedom again, for he was still a wanted man. I could go back to my family and friends and live as I once did. What did he have to go back to- a jail cell?
"But he still brought me here. Despite everything, he brought me here," Ginny finished, staring at her hands nervously. Hermione gave Ron a significant look.
"Ginny, did he leave before he was seen?" she asked urgently, placing a hand over her friend's shaking ones. Ginny shook her head, her eyes glistening.
"I told him that he shouldn't have come. The guard at the front door recognized him..." her voice broke, guilty tears spilling over her cheeks.
"Ron-" Hermione began. Ron nodded and stood up.
"I know. I'll do what I can. Ginny," he addressed his sister, "did you see where the guard took him?" Ginny shook her head.
"He just pulled Draco to the side... please, Ron, if it weren't for Draco I wouldn't be alive... I know that you may not trust him, but please, do this for me?" she pleaded. Ron smiled.
"Of course." And then he left.
-----
Draco refused to cry out when the guard's foot connected with his jaw; nevertheless, his breath rushed out of him in a pained hiss. The guard spat on the ground next to Draco's face.
"I hope they hang you for what you've done. None of that poison business for you, Malfoy. No siree, an old fashioned hanging is what you deserve," the guard growled, giving him another sharp kick in the ribs. They were in the alley between the memorial hall and a large corporate building; either no one heard what was going on, or they didn't care enough to stop it. "You killed my Susie, you did!" the guard yelled, drawing his wand. Draco smirked at him, his teeth red with blood.
"I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I said it was an accident," he mused. The guard let out an angry cry.
"I'd kill you myself. If I didn't want to see you rotting in jail so badly, I would kill you my damn self."
"Go ahead, Bones. I'm not afraid of dying," Draco hissed. Luther Bones, grieving father of Susan Bones, raised his wand, ready to damn his soul with a single spell.
"Av-"
"That's enough, Bones!" Ron Weasley shouted, his wand drawn and aimed at Luther's head. Luther dropped his wand in surprise; Ron Weasley, a war hero and his superior, was sticking up for a wanted criminal whose very name represented everything he stood against. "Step away slowly, Luther," Ron instructed, summoning Luther's wand towards him. Bones scrambled after his wand but Ron's hand was too quick for him. Luther scowled at the loss of his weapon.
"Sir, he's a wanted criminal," Bones explained; he hated having to grovel to a man who was at least twenty years his junior. Ron nodded, pocketing the other Auror's wand.
"I am well aware of that, Luther," Ron stated, "however, because of the recent bill passed in the ministry, even wanted criminals like Malfoy fall under the protection of the law until his trial has passed." Luther swore and spat at the ground; everything was changing in the wizarding world and he didn't like it one bit. "So, until Mr. Malfoy here is proven guilty- you can't lay a hand on him..." Draco slowly stood up, brushing dirt from his pants; as if that would do any good- he was already outlandishly unkempt from being in hiding for so long.
"And for the record- I'm not guilty," Draco muttered, glaring at the balding man who had just beat the living daylights out of him. The muscle in Luther's jaw twitched and he clenched his fists at his sides. If it weren't for the huge mess it would make of his career, he would get things over with and kill the little shit on the spot.
"Now, Bones, I'd like it if you'd pop by HQ and get some back up... it's time to finally capture this bastard," Ron added, his ears reddening with his anger. Draco rolled his eyes as he saw Luther's pleased grin before the old Auror Disapparated. Ron turned to the blond haired man standing next to him. "Well, Malfoy, aren't you going to run?" Draco looked up at him sharply.
"What?"
"I'm giving you the opportunity to escape; I'd advise you to take it. Though many years have passed since you allegedly killed Susan Bones, the Wizengamot is still as vindictive as ever," Ron explained casually. Draco stared at him blankly.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked suspiciously. Ron gave a small, strained smile.
"I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for my sister," Ron answered. He studied the other man's face carefully and was surprised to see that a little warmth crept into his eyes at the mentioning of Ginny Weasley.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"For some reason she feels indebted to you," Ron explained. He figured that if Ginny truly did care for Malfoy, as disgusting as the thought was, she should tell him in her own time. Matchmaking was not an affair Ron meddled with, at least, not since the horrible disaster of setting Harry up on a date with Gabrielle Delacour. Draco let out a scoffing sound.
"I don't need to take charity from Weasleys," he stated. Ron rolled his eyes; some things never changed. However, for his little sister's sake, Ron hoped that Draco Malfoy was one of the few things that did.
"In that case- Draco Malfoy, you are under arrest for the murder of Susan Bones-"
"You forgot Bellatrix Lestrange," Draco interrupted with a bitter smile. Ron continued unapologetically. The Ministry didn't bother themselves with the murders of Death Eaters.
"You have the right to remain silent; anything you say or do can be used against you in the court of law..."
-----
Draco's trial was set for the following Monday. The Daily Prophet jumped on anything and everything to do with the trail, which, of course, included interviewing Ginny Weasley as much as possible. However, Ginny didn't give them the traumatized victim story they had hoped for- the story she had given, one of forgiveness and friendship, was never printed. Perhaps they would save it if that horrible boy turned out to be as good as the poor girl thought. Until then, the articles were chock full of anything that would sway the public's opinion- DRACO MALFOY- CONTINUING HIS FAMILY'S MURDEROUS LEGACY, was a prime example of their favorite headlines.
On the day of the trial, the court was full of judgmental witches and wizards. About fifty court members entered the dimly lit room and everyone, save Draco Malfoy who was bound to his chair by magical chains, stood up respectively.
"Trial 7,200- the murder of Susan Bones. Let it go on record that the accused, Draco Malfoy, has decided to represent himself in this trial-" the chief justice called down to the clerk.
"What is he thinking?" Ginny whispered to Hermione, who was sitting by her side. Hermione shook her head in disbelief.
"The accused has provided a witness for his case... will a Miss Ginevra Weasley come to the stand?"
Ginny stood up slowly and made her way through the whispering crowd. She pulled her light blue cardigan around her tightly; the glances and glares sent from her peers were giving her chills. An Auror approached her and placed her hand on a large silver box.
"Do you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, by the magic that flows in your blood from the same blood that flowed through the very veins of Merlin himself?" the Auror asked. Ginny nodded.
"I do," she said loudly. The Auror took out a bottle of veritaserum from the box and poured a serving into an ancient looking, engraved goblet. She swallowed the potion obediently and sat down at the witness's stand. For the next hour she gave a detailed account of the two years she spent with Draco Malfoy. The chief justice looked her over thoughtfully.
"Do you have any suspicion in your mind that may lead you to believe that Draco Malfoy did in fact kill Susan Bones?" he asked slowly. The other justices regarded her with shielded eyes. Ginny stared at the old man defiantly.
"Perhaps before I spent so much time with him I would have said yes, but after these past two years I would have to say no. There is no way that Draco Malfoy could murder someone-"
"Even if he had been ordered to do so?" one of the younger justices spoke up. Ginny faltered.
"I..." she paused to gather her thoughts. "Look at him. Does he look like a person who would take orders? Mr. Malfoy has too much pride to commit murder just because someone told him to-"
"So you believe that he could, in fact, commit murder?" the same young justice pressed. Ginny fought to keep from scowling.
"To protect someone else? Yes. But I don't think he could kill someone out of cold blood," Ginny stated firmly. The young justice whispered something to the chief justice. The older man nodded.
"Miss Weasley, do you have feelings for Mr. Malfoy"? Ginny hesitated; willing her thoughts to take a far less shocking turn.
"With all due respect, I fail to see how that has anything to do with this trial," she answered, staring down at her hands.
"Miss Weasley, if you are conspiring in any way with the accused, your account will be stricken from the records, and my colleagues and I will have to pass judgment without considering any of your previous statements," the chief justice explained calmly. Ginny was appalled.
"Is this how our justice system works? Is my testimony going to be considered void only because I care for this man? If anything, my feelings should make his case stronger. After all, who could love a murderer?"
"I see. We have no further questions for the witness," the chief justice said. "You may take a seat, Miss Weasley."
Ginny exited the witness stand and made her way back to her seat. She avoided Draco's gaze when she walked by the chair he was bound to. The courtroom was buzzing from this new development. The reporter for the Daily Prophet was already starting on his next article- a tale of a poor, young girl who was manipulated for the use of a disturbed madman; it wouldn't be the first time such things had happened to the youngest Weasley. Ginny sat down next to Hermione. Her shoulders slumped dejectedly as she watched the justices converse with each other.
"I just ruined his case didn't I?" she whispered tearfully. Hermione gave her hand a comforting squeeze.
"I don't understand. The Wizengamot has used the testimony of loved ones in other cases of this nature. I don't see why they wouldn't include your testimony in the records. Perhaps you did make his case stronger... Your family is highly respected in society; I believe the justices will take that into consideration. After all, you're just as much of a war hero as the rest of us; your testimony should be valued," Hermione answered with a small, nervous smile. The courtroom grew silent as the chief justice of the Wizengamot stood up.
"May it go on the record that on the third hour of trial number 7,200 Draco Malfoy was found guilty of murdering Susan Bones," the justice said slowly. Ginny felt her inside grow cold. The chains binding Draco to the chair disappeared as two large Aurors grabbed him by either arm. Ginny watched on numbly as Draco was led out of the courtroom. One of the Aurors, a large man with brilliant red hair peaking out from his hat, gave them a subtle wink. Hermione bent down to whisper in Ginny's ear.
"Be ready with Plan B," she whispered. Ginny nodded, pulling her wand out of her robes. The two women followed the crowd of people as they exited the courtroom. Hermione and Ginny stood by the corner of the court building, waiting for the two Aurors whom had Draco bound to them to pass by. "All right, Ginny, get ready to disapparate," Hermione said, giving her friend's hand a quick squeeze.
"Thank you so much, Hermione," Ginny whispered back, letting go of her hand. In a moment of chaos from flashbulbs of magical cameras going off and reporters pushing forward, the two Aurors lost their grip on the 'guilty' prisoner. Ginny rushed forward and grabbed his arm. In a CRACK they disapparated. A few seconds later, they landed in a pile of hay. Ginny coughed and picked out pieces of straw from her hair as Draco stared at her.
"Do you realize what you've done, Weasley?" he asked quietly. She gave him a cheeky grin.
"Of course, I just saved the man I love," she answered. For the first time in the two years she had been around him, Ginny saw Draco smile.
"I hope you're prepared to rough it. Being a wanted criminal isn't easy business," he said, standing up. She placed her hand in his, giving him a confident smile.
"I think I can handle it," she whispered before placing her lips on his. And so, Ginny Weasley gave up any chance of returning to her old, normal life. Quite frankly, she didn't care.
The End.
torndeception is the author of 5 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 12 members. Members who liked Post War Romance also liked 1388 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 12 members. Members who liked Post War Romance also liked 1388 other stories.
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