分卷阅读1（2 / 2）

He didn’t bring a lawyer. He didn’t speak up in his own defense. He just sat there, pale skin turned sickly under the shine of the lights, waiting as his sentence got handed down to him. It always hurts to see what the war turned them all into, but this was by far the worst.

“Do you have any last comments, Mr. Malfoy?” Kingsley was presiding over this as a special favor to Harry. Ron thinks he’s crazy, but he hadn’t seen what Harry had seen—the guilt that builds in the shadows under Draco’s eyes, a hand shaking as he was forced to torture or be tortured, a boy that wanted his father’s love but only got pain. “Nothing to add to the court?”

Speak up, Harry wanted to shout down at him. Beside him, Ginny leaned forward, clearly waiting to see what would come next. Come on, Malfoy, show them what a harmless guilt you are.

“Then we proceed with the sentencing.” Kingsley stood, his voice magically magnified to project across the court, and dozens of cameras flashed at the same time. The images would find their way to the front page of the Daily Prophet tomorrow. (Which Dean had taken over as editor, so it actually reports the facts independent of the ministry.) “I’m sentencing you to probation, on the condition that you can stay with someone who is in good standing with the wizarding community. Could you give the court the name of some such person?”

A pause, long and silent, and then Draco’s voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. “No.” One syllable, but it was damnation. “There’s no one.”

There was another silence, and then Kingsley sat down again. “Then you leave me no choice but to sentence you to Azkaban for the full sentencing period.”

At least there are no dementors there anymore, Harry was thinking, resigned to a lost cause, but then he looks down one last time and sees Draco, this pitiful, broken thing compared against the shadow of what he used to be, and he found himself standing, his hand slipping out of Ginny’s fingers.

“He can name me, Minister.” There’s a surprised bark of laughter from his right, and he knew that Ginny was grinning, the smile she always had on her face when one of them did something stupid. Those same reporters are now taking pictures of him, and forget Malfoy, forget Kingsley, this was going to be the headlining news for the entire week. “I’ll take responsibility for him.”

Maybe I do have a bit of a saving people thing.

Draco

Things were bad.

They were bad, but at least Draco was prepared for them. He had cleaned his house, boxed up all his belongings, put all his heirlooms in his Gringotts safe. He’d written letters, and set up a trust fund for Teddy, and arranged for someone to care for his mother, when it came to that. It would be okay.

It’s not like there are dementors, He had told himself, sitting down in the middle of that stage when the whole thing started, already giving himself over to the idea that this wasn’t going to have a happy ending. It was no less than he deserved. So he showed up to court when he should have ran instead, and he didn’t speak up even when he had the chance to, and he was okay with how it was going to end.

But then he looked up and caught eyes with Harry freaking Potter of all people, who had given statements about how Draco didn’t deserve to be punished for his parents’ mistakes, and then Harry Potter was standing up and telling the whole world that he would take Draco into his home.

(And like, not that Draco doesn’t appreciate it, but does anyone seem to remember that he was a complete arse to him in school? They aren’t friends. He’s pretty sure he’s described the two of them as archenemies once, like kids even have those.)

(though when he thinks about it, Harry had one of those. Freaking Dark Lord bullshit.)

So here he was, a free man, his wand returned to him and his arms free of chains, walking towards the ministry doors like nothing had happened. There were people staring, so he did the right Malfoy thing and tried to look the way he used to, with his head high and shoulders back and a look on his face like he knows that he’s better than everyone, but it falls flat. He trails behind Harry instead, as he pushes past reporters and shouts hellos at people he must have known from school or auror camp.

They make it to the floo gates. Harry shifts on his feet and looks over at Ginny, who had helped them on their way here but now shrugs at him, like this was your problem, now deal with it. Harry must have agreed, because he grimaced and stuck out his hand to Draco.

“Come on.” He shakes his arm when Draco doesn’t grab on, like there was a way he hadn’t seen it. “I’m not saying my address out loud when this many people are around, they’ll be at my door in minutes.”

Because he was living with a celebrity. Draco’s first reaction was to be mean, to sneer at him and say that he would rather take the cell, thanks. He also wants to ask him why on earth he was doing this, when they pretty much tortured each other all through school. But that’s not what he says. “I’m not quite sure I trust you.” There’s a flash of hurt across his face, a little shadow of pain that goes as fast as it came. “I’ve heard the stories of you getting stuck up chimneys.”