Hard Time

Chapter Five: Debts and Promises


Harry sat in the witness chair at the Wizengamot, looking up at the faces of the now somewhat less than fifty wizards and witches who comprised of the court, after the loss of Delores Umbridge and a few other Dark wizards who had previously held ranks here. They hadn't had time to refill all the seats. It still felt frighteningly familiar, bringing him back to his fifth year when he'd been accused of underage magic and brought on trial. That, except for the fact that the accused was over sitting on the bench, looking small and huddled. Narcissa Malfoy.

She looked pale, as she has last time, but whereas before she had looked fragile and lost, there was a strength now to her, an acceptance of fate. She had lost her air of superiority that he remembered from the first time he'd seen her, that whole habit of looking down her nose at things. Humbled by events, her posture showed it, shoulders rounded, tangled blond hair falling unbound down her shoulders, eyes downcast. Haunted would probably be the best word to describe her. Haunted and full of regret. She had something clutched in her hands, a handkerchief, Harry realized, possibly from her husband.

Kingsley began speaking, and Harry wrested his attention back to the matter at hand. "Harry James Potter. I understand that you are willing to back up the charged's claim that she defied a direct order from You Know Who in an attempt to assist you in vanquishing him, correct? As you have heard, Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy is charged with several counts of aiding He Who Must Not be Named in his takeover of the wizarding world over the last twenty years. Describe what happened on the night of May 3rd of this year."

Harry nodded. "I had come to the conclusion that I needed to turn myself over to Voldemort, because in a spell he had used to regain his body, he'd used my blood--so in effect, there was a bit of me in him, and vice versa. Neither of us could survive while the other lived. This meant also that neither of us could die, while that part of each other lived inside of us." He'd already decided not to mention Horcruxes or his year long search to destroy them. Before Voldemort, all knowledge of Horcruxes had been banned to discourage wizards from trying to create them, and that still seemed like the best policy to him. Also, there was the fact Dumbledore had told him only to tell a few people. He wasn't going to go back on that promise, even now.

He continued as the Wizengamot listened, "So I let Voldemort use the Killing Curse on me. I didn't die, but that piece of Voldemort that had been inside me, that had given me this--" He showed them the lightning scar, "--did perish, and that meant that Voldemort could finally be killed, once and for all. Unfortunately, it also meant I could be killed as well."

Harry glanced at Narcissa. "I was lying on the ground after having been struck down by the Killing Curse when I regained consciousness. I knew I had to try and kill Voldemort, but in order to do that, I had to convince him that I was already dead, or I'd never have a chance. He asked one of his followers to check and make sure I was dead. Narcissa was the one he chose. I was terrified. If she reported that I was only faking it, he'd curse me again, and I'd truly be dead, and he'd still be alive. She put her hand on my chest, and I knew that she could feel my heart beating. But then she whispered in my ear. She asked me if her son Draco was still alive. I told her yes, because I'd just seen him shortly before, in Hogwart's. She told Voldemort that I was indeed dead. She lied for me, and in doing so, she saved my life, and allowed me to carry out my ruse, so that I could destroy Voldemort."

Kingsley looked hard at Harry. "And how does this pertain to her crimes?"

Even though Harry knew Kingsley was only doing his job, speaking on behalf of the other wizards, he couldn't help but feel his hackles rise. "She switched sides, by helping me and by not helping Voldemort. Dumbledore said previously to Draco Malfoy, that if he changed sides, he would offer the full protection of the Order of Phoenix. So why shouldn't we offer her some protection? She may have been a Death Eater. But by her actions that night, I believe she has renounced it." Harry was tempted to speak a little on Draco's behalf as well, but this was not his trial. He also didn't have nearly as good a case; despite repeated opportunities, Draco had never done anything heroic in the cause of good. If the Wizengamot could be merciful to Narcissa, at least it would be a start.

There was murmuring among the wizards and witches, conferring with one another in hushed tones. Harry could make out little; the room had been designed that way. Amelia Bones, Heath of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and one of the chief questioners at his own trial, stood up to address him. "Do you believe then, that past transgressions against the Wizarding Community should be forgotten? That wrongdoing should not earn punishment?"

Harry shook his head; she looked the same, but he looked older, more sure in his position, hair longer, brushing the top of his shoulders. He'd finally grown a few inches as well. "No. I think she should serve a time that the Wizengamot thinks is reasonable. But not a life sentence." He glanced over at Kingsley. "And leave her with her possessions. Leave her with a chance of a life, at least. As she left me a chance at life."

There was more discussion among the wizards and witches, a low buzz in the room. On his way here this morning, Harry had been chased by several photographers for The Daily Prophet as well as other newspapers and magazines (including the Quibbler, which was back). He knew that news of his testimony here today was sure to be broadly publicized. A Death Eater, in part responsible for the vanquishing of Voldemort? It would stun people, as much as his account of Snape's real actions had shortly after the victory. He was the wizarding world's charming hero, regardless of how he felt about it. Public opinion would probably not take kindly to the Wizengamot dealing harshly with someone who had helped him at a crucial time.

Kingley nodded to Harry. "Thank you for your time. If we have further questions, we'll call you up again." No need to use Veritaserum or ask for his silvery memories, no. They'd all trust his word. After all, he certainly had no ulterior motives to help out Narcissa.

Harry returned to a side bench to sit, as Narcissa was called back to the chair--the chair with the chains that he recalled so well. He shivered. Kingsley stared down at her, a thoughtful expression on his face. "So you verify that everything Harry Potter here has said is true?"

There was a quiet sense of resolution to Narcissa as she met Kingsley's gaze. "It is."

"And do you officially say before this court that you are no longer a Death Eater? That you will not attempt to aid any Dark Wizard who tries to force his or her way into power, as You Know Who did? Do you swear allegiance to the Minstry rule and its laws of conduct? This includes the reinstatement of all Muggle-born wizards and witches, I'll have you know." Kingsley's deep voice resonated in the hall, and a few of the wizards and witches fidgeted. Harry knew they had been among those to condemn the so-called 'Mudbloods' not that long ago. Kingsley was still hard at work trying to mend all the tears in the fabric of their society left over from Voldemort's schemes.

Narcissa swallowed. "I do. I have no wish to aid any wizard of any kind coming into power. It has brought my family nothing but grief. I want only the safety of my husband and my son, and a chance at life again. I don't care about the Muggles, or what the Ministry does with all their rules." She glanced over at Amelia Bones, who was frowning. With a last little sigh, she added, "I swear allegiance to the Ministry of Magic's body of lawmakers."

Amelia nodded. Kingsley nodded as well, and tapped his fingers on the podium, thinking things over. "I move that given these extraordinary circumstances, that the defendant's sentence be reduced to . . . three years. I make a second motion, that any possessions directly belonging to Narcissa Malfoy including Black family holdings, but NOT to include any holdings acquired since her marriage to Lucius Malfoy, be returned to her and not held under Section 59 of the Ministry Reorganization Act seizing assets of convicted Death Eaters."

Another wizard seconded the motion--very likely a pureblood, Harry thought. And then the vote was called. Hands went up for both sides, but in the end, the motion passed, as Amelia Bones finally raised her hand in favor. Narcissa bowed her head, silently weeping with relief, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. Two wizards came forward to lead her out of the chamber, and Harry stood up to leave. Well that was over, at least.

Then Narcissa abruptly turned to him. "Harry Potter! I need to speak with you. Please, for just a moment." She gave her captors a pleading look, cheeks still wet with her tears.

Harry paused, glancing over at Kingsley, but Kingsley was busy handling other matters. Chewing his lip, Harry nodded to the guards, and followed them back into the waiting chamber. The guards gave him a strange look. Harry shrugged. "Some privacy, please?" Something about the look on Narcissa's face told him they'd need it. They drew back a little, and waited.

Narcissa drew herself up to a more regal stance, and Harry wondered for a moment if the humility had been feigned. "Harry. Thank you, for testifying for me. Draco always said you were honourable to a fault. But I certainly can't fault you for this."

Embarrassed, Harry shrugged. "It was the truth. You did help me. You shouldn't be punished for that."

"You do realise, that helping you was merely a byproduct. My chief concern was helping my son." Narcissa was staring at him intently, a look on her face that Harry couldn't read, as if she was trying to look into his soul. There was a starkness to her, as if all her suffering had stripped away all her layers of conceitedness and pride and left only a cold brutal honesty. "Draco told me that you saved his life twice that night. Once from Fiendfyre, and once from a Death Eater."

Harry nodded, amazed Draco had actually mentioned it.

Narcissa surprised him further, by reaching out to take hold of his hand. "He owes you a debt, one that he will need to repay some day. For that to happen, however, I need to ask you one more favour. Draco's in Azkaban, imprisoned with the other youths who fought for You Know Who. I need you to check and make sure he's all right. They'll know that he didn't come when You Know Who called everyone. They'll think he's a traitor." There was such emotion in her voice, such urgency. Harry shook his head in confusion.

"He wasn't in the same cell as you?"

A dark, sad smile and a shake of the head was his answer. "The Ministry put all the youths together, anyone under twenty-one. I don't think they know what to do with them; they're in the minimal security portion from my understanding. But you don't understand. Some of them are very, very dangerous."

Harry glanced over at the guards, looking for some kind of confirmation of this, but they kept their gazes averted, almost avoiding him, it seemed. He started to get a bad feeling in his gut. Draco, looking so lost after the battle, held by his mum and dad . . . but surely he'd pull through, wouldn't he? He was Draco Malfoy, for pity's sake!

Narcissa pulled at his sleeve, bringing his attention back to her. "Harry? Please, say you'll check in on him? Let me know if he's all right!"

There wasn't even a question in Harry's mind. "I will." That might be half the Slytherin House, the upper classmen at least, all together . . . "They can't mean to hold all of them forever. That just seems ridiculous."

Narcissa made a little derisive sound. "Who knows? I shall certainly look into it, when I am out." She fell silent, pulling at a thread which was coming loose from her clothes. It seemed with all the recent changes in prison populations lately, they didn't even have proper uniforms to wear.

Her silence seemed to be the cue the guards had been waiting for. With a nod to Harry, they came forward to take Narcissa's arms again. As they lead her through the back door which led presumably to a Floo network, she glanced over her shoulder to throw him one last look. "Promise me!"

"I promise," he said softly, and wondered what he had just gotten himself into.

***

TBC