Chapter 2
The room had fallen silent. Hermione could feel Draco staring at her, but she continued to stare resolutely up the members of the Wizengamot.
“Miss Granger, are you absolutely certain that your magic is bonded with the accused?” Kingsley broke the silence. His brow furrowed as he read the document she had provided him.
“Yes. There is a spell to check. I have no objection with you casting it.”
“We will need to verify your claim. However, you understand that there are repercussions if you choose to invoke this law and have Mr. Malfoy acquitted, correct?”
Hermione nodded. She was finding it difficult to be so close to Malfoy when his magic was being forcibly suppressed. It was making her skin itch. Her own magic was trying to reach him and unable to find him.
* * *
It didn’t take long for the spell to be cast, and confirmation of their bond to be obtained. Once Kingsley had made the announcement, she’d risked a glance at the boy who’s magic she was intimately familiar with. His face was stoic and emotionless. If he was grateful she had saved him from a lifetime in Azkaban, he definitely didn’t look it. Her gaze traveled to the elegant witch seated in the family section behind him. Narcissa hadn’t moved the entire trial. The shock of seeing her son in threadbare prisoner robes with dirty hair and his gaunt complexion hadn’t left her features all day.
Hermione turned her attention back to the Wizengamot in front of her. They were speaking in hushed tones.
“Draco Lucius Malfoy, you are hereby pardoned of your crimes and free to return to your ancestral home.”
The courtroom cleared out almost immediately with many of the Wizengamot shaking their heads and casting pitying looks at Hermione on their way out. Kingsley didn’t even look in her direction before leaving the room in a swirl of maroon robes.
* * *
Harry and Hermione had been living at Grimmauld Place since shortly after the final battle. Molly had invited both of them to stay at the burrow, but neither Harry or Hermione felt comfortable intruding on the family’s time to grieve.
Hermione was struggling with the knowledge that although her parents had survived, she’d still lost them. Harry tried to be a supportive friend, but he had his own issues after the war. He’d been so distant with Ginny she’d finally broken up with him in a fit of tears before fleeing back to the burrow. He knew he should try and fix things, but he hadn’t managed to reach out to her and when two weeks had passed, it felt too late to try and chase after her.
Things between Ron and Hermione weren’t much better, although they were still technically a couple. They’d had the same fight every time they spent any time together and she knew it was only a matter of time before they’d have to admit it wasn’t working. She had tried to want a physical relationship with Ron, but every time they were alone, it was like her body was afraid of being touched by him. Her stiffness and discomfort was too obvious to ignore and it would end with him not understanding why she always got so uptight at his touch now.
When she arrived home from the Ministry, Ron and Harry were eager to hear how her testimony had went. She’d requested that her testimony be closed, even from them, because she hadn’t yet found a way to tell them about what had happened at the manor. She was still trying to decide how she felt about the bond, and didn’t want to have to deal with their emotions as well.
“Did they announce a verdict while you were there?” Harry asked her as he filled the kettle for tea.
“He was acquitted.”
“Blimey! No way! He was a Death Eater. He has the mark!” Ron sputtered incredulously.
“He was a child, Ronald. It’s not like he had much of a choice.” Hermione’s exasperation at Ron’s childhood grudge was another ongoing fight between the two of them.
“I don’t understand why you care so much. He was awful to you at school.”
“He still wasn’t evil, mate.” Harry piped up in an attempt to keep the peace.
Three cups of steaming tea were floated over to the table and the friends sat quietly sipping, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Hermione was grateful they’d given up asking her why she didn’t want anyone hearing her testimony. She didn’t like lying to her best friends, but she simply wasn’t ready to open up to them. She worried that they would blame her, or hate her for being tied to their childhood bully, no matter how much the war had changed him. She knew Ron still carried a lot of anger about Fred’s death, and Harry was struggling to figure out who he was without the constant threat of a dark wizard trying to kill him.
They’re thoughts were interrupted by a loud tapping at the window. A huge eagle owl sat perched on the sill. When Harry opened the window, it flew directly to Hermione and dropped a black envelope into her lap before turning and flying back out the window. The Malfoy family crest was embossed on the front. She opened it with shaking hands and pulled out the thick cardstock inside.
Miss Granger,
We request your presence at Malfoy Manor for dinner this Sunday, August 9th.
Regards,
Narcissa Black Malfoy