What Shakes The Elephant

What Shakes The Elephant

Chapter 14 – There’s Nothing In You

Draco stood transfixed on the spot as he heard the footsteps draw nearer to him. Potter. Why did he come? What possessed him to do that? Better question yet, how did he find out the actual date and time of the trial?

Draco made no motion to acknowledge his own witness as Potter approached the point where he stood. Shacklebolt’s eyes were trained on Draco in a questioning manner, but he refused to pay any attention to it. He was livid.

He did not need Potter’s help. There was no proof against him in regards to his father’s poisoning, thus there was no way to actually convict Draco of anything related to it. Hydra had already confessed. The court was simply using this as a means of getting more information on Draco.

He was very secretive and reserved about his business and the way he accomplished the complex plans that he had. There were those that wanted him out of the Ministry seated amidst the rest of the Wizengamot and Shacklebolt was forced to question the accused on all matters bearing any relation to the charges.

Then, of course, there was Potter who had to stick his nose into absolutely everyone’s business. When they least want him to, no less.

“What testimony do you bring to the court on behalf of Draco Malfoy?” Shacklebolt asked calmly, motioning for Potter to speak.

“Mr. Malfoy was with me between five-forty-five and midnight,” he said quite simply. “His testimony of our time spent at Three Broomsticks is accurate.”

The Wizengamot buzzed excitedly with this new revelation that Draco and Harry Potter were spending time together. Draco nearly allowed himself the luxury of rolling his eyes but knew better. At the very least, having Potter on his side could not hurt him… much.

“What was the nature of your meeting?” a witch towards the back, whom Draco could not identify but knew to be his enemy just from the tone, asked.

Potter shifted and considered the question for a moment before daring to answer.

“Casual get-together,” he replied coolly. “Though the nature of our meeting has no bearing on the case, whatsoever.”

There was another murmur of discussion before Shacklebolt raised a hand to quiet them all. He considered his notes for a few moments. Then another wizard piped up.

“Mr. Potter,” he began from somewhere in the crowd. “Did Mr. Malfoy inform you that his father was taken to hospital before he left you that night?”

Draco felt himself drain of blood and knew that, though nothing could legally convict him of the attempted murder, anything Potter said from this point onwards could gravely damage any reputation he might have been able to build for himself and send him to prison anyway. He knew that his future was in Potter’s hands at the moment and he could practically see it all crumble around him. If Potter answered truthfully, just as he would, the courts would automatically assume he had something to hide. Why should he lie to the Saviour of the Wizarding World?

“Yes,” Potter lied, though he did so with such ease as Draco had never witnessed of him. He tried not to let his eyes widen at the response. He stared resolutely forward and avoided any eye contact with the man who stood as his witness. Meanwhile, the jury became more and more unruly, discussing the new information in louder voices.

“Did Mr. Malfoy inform you of why his father was taken to hospital?” another wizard asked. Draco knew that they were out for his neck at this point. There was no relation to the case but the Wizengamot was something akin to a circus in most rights.

“No,” Potter replied, clearly getting annoyed at the questions as well. “But he shouldn’t have known then, should he?”

There was an eruption of noise this time and Shacklebolt had to magically silence the crowd of members before he was able to speak over them. He turned his gaze back to Draco but did not meet his eyes and addressed the court instead.

“All the evidence has been presented,” he said slowly. “With a show of hands, all those in favour of conviction?” Draco watched with baited breath as a number of hands flew into the air. He tried to count but was not fast enough. “All those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?” And then more hands flew into the air, but Draco was unsure of how many stood on either side. He knew full-well he was innocent but that did not mean that the Wizengamot cared. They rarely took true innocence into account in their rulings. “Accused cleared of all charges,” Shacklebolt concluded. “You are free to go, Mr. Malfoy.”

The Wizengamot slowly began to dissolve as the members left in their separate doors and Draco took no time to dally. He turned on his heel, wanting to get as far away from Potter as was possible. He walked directly out into the hallway of the Department of Mysteries, remembering that considering this was where Potter worked, it might not have been so difficult for him to discover the court time.

As soon as he met the marbled hallway, he was ambushed with flashing cameras and a number of reporters (most of whom he did not recognize) each wanting a story. Draco very near drew his wand on them all in shock. Once he realized who they were and what they wanted, the urge to draw his wand grew even greater.

He ignored the questions and bit back his tongue so as not to demand where they got their information and how they managed to get down to the courtrooms. But the reporters did not need Draco to open his mouth. They had quite enough to speculate upon when Harry Blood Potter walked out right behind him and began calling his name.

“Malfoy!” he cried through the throng of people but Draco simply pushed passed the group until he came face to face with the bane of his existence. His wife.

Hydra stood, in magically bound shackles awaiting her own sentencing and surrounded by officials from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Her hair was singed in places from her own fiendfyre and there were telling scars that drew themselves the length of her face and disappeared down the neck of her robes. Draco might have had scars to match hers from years ago, had Severus Snape not come in to save his life.

“You snivelling bastard!” she shrieked as he stood there with a smug sneer. She made a move to grab for him but the shackles would not permit it.

“I see you received the divorce papers,” he replied coolly. His hand travelled to his wand out of instinct, though he did not draw it.

“How DARE you separate from me!” she screamed out for all the reporters and everyone within seven thousand miles to hear. “You will regret this! I promise you! You need me, Draco! Scorpius needs me! What will he become with nothing but a useless father like YOU raising him?!”

Draco was livid. He felt the rage bubble inside of him and he met his breaking point. His eyes were a molten mercury and he toned his voice down to the ice cold sharpness that it only had when dealing with people he hated.

“You attempted to murder my father and I,” he replied in a cutting whisper. “You are in no position to be preaching about the errors in MY judgment or negative influences.”

Hydra fought against her restraints and the Aurors closed in tighter around her. The press, meanwhile, were having a field day at Draco’s expense and he could not stop them. He was too focused on his wife at this point to care.

“You’ll pay for this, Draco!” she hollered at him sounding more and more like an enraged Veela as she spoke. “I won’t be in Azkaban forever! Scorpius will be mine! You cannot keep my son from me!”

And this time Draco’s face changed only slightly. His anger died away to be replaced with pure, unadulterated loathing. One clean eyebrow raised slightly and modified his expression, giving him an ice cold expression of contempt.

“I promise you, Hydra,” he said in a deadly whisper. “You will never see my son again.”

The Aurors carted her off into the courtroom, the flashing cameras following her every move and noting her every word until the massive doors closed behind her. Draco turned and hurried away wanting nothing more to do with the press, but a voice followed him.

“Malfoy!” Potter called out from behind him again. He hurried his steps and ignored him but Potter was persistent. “Malfoy!! Hold on!” Draco continued his charade of pretending not to hear Potter until the other man got quite bored of the game and caught Draco offguard. “Draco!!”

Draco, no matter what he told himself, had not been expecting that to come out of Potter’s mouth. As a result of his surprise, he faltered in his steps just enough for Potter to catch up with him and grab a hold of his arm. Draco tensed at the touch and felt a stab to his chest. That had never happened before.

“I thought that might get your attention,” Potter quipped, slightly out of breath. Draco made sure not to look at him for fear of seeing that endlessly irritating smile on Potter’s face and losing his resolve.

“What do you want, Potter?” he shot, feeling his voice quaver very slightly. Too much was happening in one day. Draco had never dealt well with this much stress all at once. And death was… not his strong point.

Potter seemed taken aback by Draco’s inability to be amused at the situation.

“How are you doing?” he asked, his face contorted to aptly display his mixture of confusion, insult and concern. Draco did not allow his face to change.

“Magnificent,” he replied scathingly. Potter frowned.

“Look, I understand that this must be difficult,” he began, casting his eyes away briefly. Draco nearly gaped.

“Difficult?” he asked in a mocking tone. “No Potter, it wasn’t difficult. It was murder.” He corrected, intending no pun at all. “My wife tried to kill my father and I and consequently murdered one of the few people I trusted alive.”

He turned around and attempted to leave as Potter looked at him with his mouth slightly open.

“People you trusted?” he repeated quietly. And then it dawned on him as Draco bit down hard on his tongue to stop from screaming. “Your House Elf? YOU trusted your House Elf? And referred to him as a person??”

Draco ground his teeth and stopped again, turning only his head this time.

“Fuck you, Potter,” he said simply, giving in to the building tension within him. Why couldn’t he just let it go? Why couldn’t he just move away and forget they ever tried to be friends? It would never be the same for Potter as it was for Draco. He needed to give it up.

“Why are you being like this?!” Potter snapped, grabbing Draco’s arm and forcing him around. “I just testified in your defence and I didn’t have to! Hell I even lied for you!”

Draco tugged his arm away, his eyes having become a matte silver as the emotions within him raged and fought for dominance. His face was empty and expressionless, or at least that’s what he intended. He couldn’t be sure of his own masks anymore. Potter gaped again.

“You shouldn’t have,” he replied smoothly though it was monotone. Potter looked directly into his eyes and, for a moment, Draco thought that the other man could see through every glamour that he had put up –magical or not.

“What did you want me to do, then?” he asked harshly. Draco did not smile.

“You should have listened to your wife for once,” he replied tonelessly before walking off. “And stayed away from me. I’m no good for you.”

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A/N: ANGST ANGST ANGST. Draco’s reactions are unclear now but they will be. I promise they will. The next bit is/was hard for me so please bear with me. It’s all very emotional what with everything I’ve been through in the past two weeks.

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