When Severus, Draco, and Harry filed into the courtroom Wednesday morning, it was unbearably crowded, filled to bursting with spectators and press reporters and photographers all hoping to get a glimpse of the Malfoys. It was rare that such a powerful and influential family took a fall like this, and half of wizarding London had turned out to witness what they hoped would be justice for the two alleged Death Eaters.

Tension was running rather high, since most people had considered the Malfoys pillars of the community, or at least purebloods to be respected and feared, Narcissa had been known for her sizable donations to the Wizarding Children and Families organization and also to St. Mungos. To discover that such activities were actually a cover for their more nefarious dealings made some people very angry. They didn't like being played for fools and wanted the Malfoys to suffer for it, they wanted to see the proud witch and wizard's Name dragged through the mud and publically humiliated and for the world to know the truth-that underneath the shiny posh exterior was a well of darkest evil.

Along the right half of the circular room was the benches for the Wizengamot, which would serve as judge and jury for the trial. They were among the most powerful witches and wizards in Britain, and many of them were Ministry advisors and officials who held no love for the Malfoys. Cornelius Fudge himself was there, as was his second, Rufus Scrimgeour, and Dumbledore as well. There were several Aurors present, including the fearsome Mad Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Harry, who was under the Invisibility Cloak, was free to observe the room and the people in it as he followed on Severus's heels. The courtroom was made of interlocking blocks of gray stone and was circular and the ceiling of it was dotted with large globes upon which an everlasting Lumos spell had been cast. There was a large wooden podium in the center of the circle, just opposite two large chaisr wrapped in chains. For some strange reason, the sight of the chairs gave Harry the chills.

Surrounding the chair and the podium were tiers of benches, those on the right half of the circle were for the members of the Wizengamot and those on the left were for the spectators, although there didn't look to be near enough seats for all the people who were crowded into the courtroom. Because of the packed number of people, Harry was careful to stick close to Severus and Draco, who were trying to make their way up to the podium, where the prosecuting attorney, Gabriel Dresden was awaiting them.

Both Draco and Severus were dressed in their best set of robes and wore suits underneath them, they looked impeccable to Harry, who had never seen Severus look so imposing or regal, or Draco either. Draco looked every inch the aristocrat and Severus did as well, he had trimmed his hair and pulled it back so that it was no longer in his eyes, and those eyes were bright with determination and reminded Harry of a falcon, proud and fierce.

Harry was dressed as he normally was, in jeans, trainers, and a yellow and black rugby shirt, and he was happy he didn't have to get all slicked up like his foster brother, he hated formal wear. That was the beauty of being invisible, you didn't have to worry about your appearance. He hadn't even bothered to comb his hair, and Severus had been so busy inspecting his own and Draco's appearances that he hadn't examined Harry too closely. If he had, Harry knew he would've been scolded roundly for leaving the house looking like a ragamuffin. Harry silently thanked whatever being looked after wayward teenagers for that bit of mercy.

He darted a quick glance at Draco, who looked all cool and collected, like he did this sort of thing everyday. Harry almost envied the Malfoy heir his poise and control, which was partly inborn and also the result of extensive instruction as a young child. Until he recalled that it was just a mask, for Draco had been nowhere near that last night, when he'd woken Harry from a sound sleep begging Lucius not to take him away from Prince Manor . . .

Harry was awakened by a low moan coming from Draco's half of the room. Afraid his brother was sick or something, he quickly Accio-ed his glasses and groped for his wand, which he now slept with beneath his pillow at Severus's insistence. His hand closed reassuringly about the shaft of holly and he whispered, "Lumos!"

Sitting up, he aimed the glowing ball on the wand's tip towards the side of the room where Draco slept, and discovered the Slytherin thrashing and whimpering, tangled like a mummy in the bedcovers. Draco's eyes were squinched shut, as though he feared what he would see if he dared to open them. His white-blond hair was wet with sweat and he was jerking like possessed animal.

"Draco? Hey, you're dreaming." Harry called uncertainly. He had seen the other in the throes of a nightmare only once before, right after the disastrous encounter with the darkhound, though then he'd been suffering his own angst and guilt and hadn't been much help to Draco. That had been the first time he'd ever seen the stoic Slytherin cry, not that Harry blamed him, for what he had gone through in the Deepwood would have scared a hardened warrior to pieces, much less a mere fourteen-year-old apprentice wizard.

Harry slid from the bed, wincing at the chill that played about his bare toes, despite the carpeting. He walked hesitantly across the room, his wand held before him like a beacon. He had plenty of nightmares himself, but he had never before seen anyone else have one, and for several minutes he just looked at Draco's writhing whimpering form, at a loss as to what he should do.

Should he attempt to wake him up? Should he go and fetch Severus?

Harry chewed his lower lip to shreds in his indecision, before a particularly loud groan decided him. He bent and shook Draco's shoulder hard and called firmly, "Draco, wake up! You're dreaming!"

"Please, Father! Let me stay here! I don't want to go away . . .I just want to stay here, with Uncle Sev . . .this is my home . . .please . . .I don't want to come with you, don't make me . . .I'm not your son! I'm NOT!"

Harry remained frozen, gaping slightly like a stunned fish, at Draco's impassioned plea and his final shouted denial made him jump.

It also brought Draco awake with a start.

"Huh? What? Where?" Draco blinked, then tried to sit up, but the sheets were wound too tightly about him. "Ah . . .what the hell? Why can't I move, Harry?"

"Shhh. Stay still and I'll help you," Harry instructed, beginning to unwind the sheet from the other boy. "You were having the devil of a nightmare, and that's why you can't move now."

"Hurry. I feel like I'm smothering."

"Calm down. Just give me a few minutes." Harry worked as quickly as he could, but the sheet was wound about Draco's lean frame very tightly. "Merlin! But it was as if you were trying to run away from someone."

"I was . . .kind of. In my dream . . .my father was coming after me." Draco admitted softly, not looking at Harry.

"Oh. No wonder you were running. I'd have been too. Did he, uh, have his, uh . . .cane?"

Draco gulped and then nodded. "Yeah. He was . . .screaming at me to come here, he was furious at me for living here, he wanted me to come back with him. And all I wanted to do was run away as quick as I could."

The sheet was partially unwound and Harry quickly continued peeling the sweat-soaked cloth away from his brother's boxer and T-shirt clad body. Draco shivered as the cool air from the partially opened window hit his sweaty skin. His gray eyes were a bit unfocused and filled with more than a little dread and anxiety. Concerned, Harry asked, "You okay? Stupid question, ‘course you're not. D'you want me to get Dad?"

Draco shook his head rapidly. "No! The last thing I need is for him to see me like this again. It was just a stupid dream. I'm not gonna curl up and die over it."

Harry understood how Draco felt, embarrassed and ashamed, but at the same time relieved that someone else was there to talk to, even if it was only Harry. "All right. Then we'll let him sleep." He glanced about the room, wondering where Smidgen was.

After the last nightmare they had both had, the shimmerling had watched over their dreams, keeping the nightmares at bay with her dreamweaving. "Where's Smidgen got to?"

"I told her to get some sleep just before I went to bed," Draco answered, yawning. "Must be exhausting, watching over our dreams, so I told her we didn't need her tonight and she should take it off." He laughed derisively. "I really suck at predictions."

"Join the club." Harry said with a wry grin. "I make all mine up along with Ron. We might as well call it Lying 101 instead of Divination."

Draco gave him a kind of smile, clearly he was still shaken up from his nightmare. "Yeah. Uncle Sev says Trelawney's an old fraud that Dumbledore lets teach out of charity."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Harry said, a bitter note creeping into his voice whenever he thought of the old wizard and what he had done to him in the name of some fool prophecy. He had finished untangling the sheet and Draco sighed in relief.

"Thanks, Harry."

Harry shrugged, embarrassed. "No problem."

Draco coughed, then said, "Hope I didn't freak you out too much. I'm not used to . . .sharing a room with anyone."

"Same here. The cupboard was too small to fit me and Dudley."

Draco sniggered. "I'll bet." Then he sobered and asked, "How can you joke about it like that, Snape?"

"‘Cause it's better to laugh about it than to get all depressed over it. Least that's what Smidgen tells me."

"Yeah. I guess." Draco agreed. Then he said awkwardly, "Uh. . .I should've said this before, but . . .anyway, I just wanted to say thanks for, uh, doing what you did back in the Deepwood. You saved my life, y'know. Uncle Sev said I would have died if it weren't for you. So . . .thanks."

"You're welcome." Harry said, not looking at Draco. "I couldn't just let you die. Then who would I have to fight with and blame stuff on?" he joked lightly.

Draco shot him a dirty look. "You'd find someone." Then he gave his brother a tentative smile. "Now I owe you one."

"No," said Harry quickly. "You don't. There are no debts between us, Draco. That's for strangers and rivals and you're not either."

"I'm not?"

"No. You're family. And family doesn't owe family. Least not in my book."

The other was silent for several long minutes then he said, "Yeah, but I'm only family so long as Uncle Sev has guardianship over me. I've been thinking a lot lately . . .what if they get off. My mother and father. What if, by some miracle, they get released from Azkaban?"

"Could that be possible? They were arrested."

"Arrested and convicted are two different things," Draco reminded him impatiently. "My father has money and connections. If there's a loophole, he'll find it." The blond apprentice shivered and wrapped his arms about himself. "I . . .don't want that to happen, Harry. I don't want to go back there . . .not with him in charge. I'm sick of pretending to be loyal to his cause, sick of him trying to make me into a twisted and evil person. I just want to stay here . . .where I can be myself and happy. Living here is like . . .the very best thing ever and I don't want Father to come and destroy everything. And he will if he's declared not guilty."

"What court in their right mind would declare him not guilty? Dad was there, he was a witness to everything."

"I know, but all it takes is one vote of uncertainty and they can't convict him of a crime." Draco said hoarsely. "If that happens . . .I won't go back there, Harry! I'd . . .run away and live in the Deepwood first or . . .or something." His gray eyes were wide with fear.

"Hey. Relax. Nothing's even happened yet, so don't panic."

"Easy for you to say. You've got a great father, instead of the henchman from hell and his bride. You don't know what it would be like. It would be a living nightmare. It would be like . . .if you were sent back to live with your uncle, if he was still alive, that is."

Harry checked a shudder at the mere thought. For that would have been a fate worse than death. He looked at Draco again, and saw how pale the other was and how the gray eyes were filled with a kind of resolute terror, as if he were already resigned to being sent back to live with his dreadful parents, as if it were guaranteed they'd get off. Funny, but he'd never seen the usually composed Draco in despair like this before, and he sought to find something to say to alleviate the other's distress, for he found it disturbed him very much.

"Don't even go there, okay? Look, what makes you think that Dad would ever let you go back?" Harry pointed out softly. "You think he would just let your father march up and drag you back to Malfoy Manor? Like hell! He's got legal custody of you, Draco. He'd fight them tooth and nail, believe me."

"I know that," said the other miserably. "And that's the last thing he needs, to get dragged through the courts in some kind of custody fight over me. It would cost too much and . . .and I don't think I'm worth it."

Harry's mouth hung open. Out of all the things his foster brother could have said, that one shocked him the most. Draco had always acted as if he were better than everyone, and self-esteem had always been something he never seemed to lack, if anything he had an over-exaggerated idea of his own importance.

But not now. Now he saw behind the mask the Slytherin wore to nothing more than a frightened kid, one who was terrified he would end up alone and abandoned to the cruel mercy of his tyrannical parent.

For one moment, Harry remained with his mouth open and the next he found himself coming back with, "Who asked you? You're worth it to my dad, you're like his son. And . . .and you're worth it to me too."

Now it was Draco's turn to look like he'd been smacked upside the head. "I am?"

"Yes. Because you don't deserve to become your father's shadow, anymore than I deserve to be my uncle's slave. We both deserve the chance to live a normal life, with a parent that cares for us, and we've got that with Dad, so don't go borrowing trouble, all right?" He fetched the Slytherin a playful cuff on the back of the head.

Draco gave him a mild glare. "What the hell was that for?"

"For being a boneheaded git," answered Harry. "Don't you know you could always hide out here in the manor, and nobody, not even Voldy himself, would ever find you? So what are you worried about? Everything's going to be fine."

"Oh really? What are you, some kind of seer now, Harry?"

"Wish I was, so then you'd quit worrying yourself to death."

"Why? Am I keeping you from your beauty sleep, Harriet?"

"Don't be an ass, Draco. Come tomorrow, you'll see, Dad will testify to what an evil bastard your father and mother are, the jury will vote to put them in Azkaban for life, and that will be that."

"I wish I could believe that."

"Believe it, Malfoy."

"Why should I?"

"Because . . .because I, Harry Albus Snape, the Chosen One, say so." Harry declared, struck by a sudden inspiration.

Draco snorted. "Chosen One, my arse." Then he smiled faintly and clocked his brother one on the arm. "Okay, I can take a hint. Go back to bed, little brother. I'll think about what you said . . .it ought to put me out like a light."

Harry hid a smirk and rose from where he'd been sitting at the end of Draco's bed to return to his own. "You're welcome, big brother," he called over his shoulder before falling back onto his bed and letting sleep claim him.

* * * * * *

"Mr. Dresden," Severus greeted the prosecutor, shaking his hand firmly. "I am here, as requested."

"Hello, Mr. Snape. Or do you prefer Professor?"

"Not while I'm out of my classroom. I'm professor for nine months out of the year, I deserve a break from it during the summer. Mr. Snape will do just fine." He laid a casual hand on Draco's shoulder. "And this is my ward, Draco Malfoy."

The attorney, who was a tall young man in his late twenties with brown hair and blue eyes that scrutinized Draco intently before holding out a hand, said, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Malfoy. I'm Gabriel Dresden, representing the Ministry's interests. If you would please have a seat on the bench there," he indicated a bench alongside of the podium. "Your guardian and I have a few things to discuss before the proceedings begin."

Severus turned to Draco, who looked a tad uneasy. "Do as he says, Draco. I'll be joining you shortly. Oh, and if a reporter approaches you, just tell them the standard "No comment" or "I don't know". That ought to keep them at bay till I return."

"Yes, Uncle Sev."

Draco moved over to the bench the attorney had indicated and sat down unobtrusively. Harry followed, knowing full well he wouldn't be able to eavesdrop on any conversation Severus was having with the attorney, he had a feeling they could ward themselves so tight that not even a shimmerling could have listened in to their discussion.

Dresden led Severus away to a small door that Harry had not noticed before, it was probably a small room for the counselors to wait in preceding their cases, and he opened it and gestured for the Potions Master to precede him. Harry noted with a bit of amusement that the attorney was wearing black robes similar to those Severus wore when he taught, high collared stark billowing ones, complete with polished black boots. A quick glance at Draco showed Harry that the comparison had not been lost on the other either. Huh. Is that the standard way the lawyers dress around here? Must be, since the other one is wearing the same thing. Who would've thought, Dad dresses like an attorney? He stifled a giggle, though the comparison was apt.

The door shut behind the two, and Draco and Harry were sentenced to wait on the rather hard bench for an interminable half-an-hour while Gabriel Dresden briefed Severus on the upcoming case and his role in it, which was to provide the prosecution with an airtight eyewitness that would clinch the case and get the guilty put away for good and all.

Draco remained still and unmoving upon the bench, staring off into space, expressionless. No one would be able to tell just by looking at him that he was scared and sick to his stomach. He wished he'd accepted Severus's offer of a Calming Draft or an Anxiety Reducer, instead of trying to play the Spartan. He took several deep slow breaths, willing the nausea to go away.

Next to him, Harry was fidgeting and tapping his hand against his knee, unable to remain completely still. He kept his eyes glued on the door his father and the attorney went into. It remained shut and Harry longed to get up and pace in an attempt to alleviate some of the jitters he was experiencing. But he knew if he moved, someone else would end up sitting next to Draco and neither of them wanted that, so Harry remained where he was, huddled under the Invisibility Cloak, wishing this day were over already.

Finally, the small door opened to admit Severus and Dresden back into the courtroom. As Severus made his way across the room towards the bench where Draco was sitting, he was accosted by no less than eight reporters and photographers, all of whom attempted to take a statement or snap his picture and also Albus Dumbledore.

All of them were treated to the same withering disdainful stare, and a softly spoken, "No comment at this time. Now move out of my way, if you will." That was all, but Severus managed to imply by his posture and facial expression that if they did not move out of the way, they shortly would be decorating the ceiling in bits and pieces.

The press got the message and scattered like mice before a stalking cat.

Albus, however, was made of sterner stuff, and he made as if to speak to Severus further, but the Potions Master made a swift slashing gesture with a hand and his dark eyes blazed in warning.

"Very well, my boy. I shall see you after the trial," Dumbledore murmured, smiling genially, as if Severus had not just nonverbally smacked him in the mouth. He withdrew, returning to the side of the room where the Wizengamot members were sitting.

Severus reached the bench where Draco and Harry were sitting and sat down, careful not to jostle the invisible Harry. His face was set and temper rode his features for a moment, so Draco waited before asking him, rather hesitantly, what Dumbledore had wanted.

"He wished, as usual, to meddle in something that is no longer his affair, and I refused to speak with him," answered Severus shortly.

"What did the attorney, Mr. Dresden, want?" was Draco's next question.

"He wished to brief me about the trial and to warn me there would be a hostile witness called by him, so I wouldn't be surprised when he announced it."

"A hostile witness?"

"Yes, the term means a witness who is reluctant to be summoned for the prosecution, and serves under duress, but is necessary to prove the prosecution's case. That one will most likely be given Veritaserum, since what he says cannot be trusted."

Draco's eyebrows rose until they practically disappeared into his hair. "Will they give it to you too, Uncle Sev?"

"No, because I am here willingly and willingly give testimony. Veritaserum is only used when the veracity of a witness's word is under suspicion."

"Oh." Draco wiped the palms of his hands on his knees. "When do you think they'll start? It's already a quarter past nine."

"In a few minutes, the bailiffs shall shut the doors, and then the accused will be brought in and the trial will begin," replied Snape quietly. "I should be called as Mr. Dresden's second witness."

Draco just nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the podium where Cornelius Fudge was now standing.

There was a low murmur in the room as the spectators all took their seats, eager to see the trial begin.

The bailiffs, dressed in severe blue robes and ceremonial armor, shut the doors to the chamber with a dull thud. They then took up positions beside the door, with arms crossed and wands tucked prominently in their belts, forbidding as stone.

Then a shimmering blue portal appeared at the end of the room and from out of it stepped two Aurors, wands drawn and trained on the two who followed.

Draco craned his neck slightly to see what his parents looked like after being in Azkaban for at least a week, and discovered that they still looked much as they had before they had been arrested, save that the clothes were standard prison issue, not the expensive suits and such his father was wont to wear. His father was dressed in drab gray slacks and a shirt that were a bit too large and his hands were shackled. But his hair was still immaculate and he eyed all the people, most of whom were booing and hissing, with classic aristocratic disdain.

"Still trying to play lord of the manor, eh, Lucius?" muttered Severus, scowling.

"It's an act," Draco hissed. "He's not as confident as he seems. He's not smiling."

"Noticed that, did you?" Severus said, pleased with his son's observations.

Narcissa stepped through the gate last, and she, like her husband, was still playing a role. She was wearing nearly the same outfit as Lucius, the drab prisoner's gray, only hers was a skirt and blouse instead of trousers. Her formally upswept and perfectly coiffed blond hair was now pulled back into a simple ponytail and she looked a trifle gaunt and sallow without her make-up. But her gray eyes were bright with indignation and she had her nose elevated, as if there were something on the ground that was offensive and why hadn't a house elf come and removed it?

Manacles wrapped about her slender wrists as well, but she wore them as if they were mere jewelry and not a degrading sign of her imprisonment. She walked beside Lucius as if they were attending a banquet as the guests of honor, not their trial. More whispers and catcalls accompanied her, but Narcissa ignored them.

"She's acting too," whispered Draco to his guardian. "See the way she keeps twitching her little finger? She always does that when she's nervous."

"As well she should be, for this trial shall decide her fate," said Severus darkly.

Sudden titters broke out in the spectator's gallery as a large sign appeared on the back of Lucius's shirt. It read Kick Me Hard, For I Am a Bonafide Arsehole.

An instant later a similar sign appeared on Narcissa. Kick Me Too, For I Am the World's Worst Bitch.

A second later, both Malfoys staggered and nearly fell as an invisible foot kicked them hard in their posteriors, nearly knocking them down.

"Ow!" yelped Narcissa. She whirled upon her escort. "How dare you assault me, you cretin?"

"Me? I never touched you, woman. But I agree with the sign."

"You miserable dog, touch me again and I'll rip out your throat!" snarled Lucius, spinning about to glare at his own guard.

"I'd like to see you try, sir," sneered the guard.

Now the rest of the room was laughing as well, for the signs were visible to those in the first tier of benches now that the Malfoys had their backs to them.

"Order! Order in the court!" bellowed the judge, to no avail, for the spectators were all hyped up and yelling insults loudly. Someone even threw a rotten apple at them.

More signs appeared. Follow the Dark Lord and End Up Jailbait, read Lucius's now. And Narcissa's read, I Suck, Ask Anyone Over Age Twelve.

Harry was snickering into his hand, and even Draco was biting his lip. Severus too, had an unholy look of glee in his eyes.

"Who cast that spell upon them?" demanded the judge, who was not at all amused at the mockery his courtroom was becoming.

No one stepped forward, of course, though Harry swore he saw two familiar red heads somewhere in the sea of faces.

"Another outburst like that and I will have you all thrown out of this courtroom," snapped the judge. "This is a court of law, not a farce. Be silent, all of you!"

The room hushed after that, and the signs vanished as quickly as they had appeared.

Severus settled back on the bench and watched as the Aurors escorted the accused up to the two chairs that were just in front of the podium and bid them sit down in them.

Neither of them protested, though both winced visibly as they sat down in the hard chairs. Narcissa gasped when the chains slithered across her and bound her to the chair securely. Lucius sneered, as if to say that such tactics wouldn't scare him any. The Aurors retreated behind the chairs, wands trained on the prisoners.

Then Fudge cleared his throat and announced in a ringing tone, "The trial of the Ministry of Magic vs. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy may proceed, the Honorable Wizard Malcolm Highguard presiding."

A wizard in his middle fifties wearing a dark blue robe and hat came forward, he held a hawthorn staff in one hand and he tapped it three times on the floor to signal that the trial was now in session. "Ladies and gentlemen, might I beg of you your silence and restraint during these proceedings," began the judge sternly. "Anyone who is disorderly will be found in contempt of court and removed bodily from the premises. Mr. Dresden and Mr. Knave, you may approach the bench."

The two attorneys went up to the podium and the judge murmured something to them that not even Draco could catch. Then Highguard said, "Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, you stand accused of some of the most heinous crimes in history. We have learned that you both were ardent supporters and followers of You-Know-Who, that you participated in meetings whose sole purpose was to advance his unholy cause and torture and kill ordinary citizens of both wizard and Muggle societies. That with malice aforethought, you did try and kill one Severus Snape, Potions Master. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," said Lucius.

"Not guilty," Narcissa echoed cooly.

Battle lines were drawn then, and Gabriel Dresden moved into the center of the room and began giving the opening statement in his case.

* * * * * *

An hour later, Harry's bottom was going numb from sitting so still, when Mr. Dresden at last called, "The prosecution now summons one Severus Tobias Snape to the stand."

Severus rose and came to stand to the left of the podium next to a conjured chair. He looked neither to the right or the left, but straight at Gabriel Dresden.

The attorney faced him and said evenly, "Please state your full name and occupation for the record, if you please."

"My name is Severus Tobias Snape and I am a Potions Master and professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Thank you, Mr. Snape. Would you please raise your right hand and swear upon your wizard's honor that you shall answer any and all questions put to you truthfully and without bias?"

Severus complied, lifting his right hand and repeating after Judge Highguard, "I, Severus Tobias Snape, solemnly swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth, and speak the facts as I know them with malice towards none, upon my wizard's honor I so swear."

A wizard's honor was the highest oath you could swear without using a Binding Spell or an Unbreakable Vow.

"You may be seated, Mr. Snape," said Highguard. "Counselor, your witness."

Dresden began to question Severus, having him tell the court how he had been working for years as a secret agent for the Order of the Phoenix, doing the most dangerous undercover work. He had Severus speak of being specially chosen for such work by Albus Dumbledore himself, and then he asked Severus to describe a typical Death Eater meeting.

Severus hesitated for a brief moment, as if dredging up such dark memories were painful (as indeed they were), then he said evenly, "At the beginning of the meeting, all the participants would gather in a circle, we all wore black robes and those hideous masks, and then Lucius, who was Chief Death Eater by virtue of his status in You-Know-Who's inner circle and also his power and influence, would begin a hymn to his Dark Lord."

"What kind of hymn?"

"One that beseeched You-Know-Who to return and destroy all of their enemies. This was done at all the meetings, an invocation, I believe it is called. Afterwards, Lucius would call the meeting to order, and tell us what we needed to do. There was always some Muggleborn who needed chastising, or some Muggle family who needed to be taught an object lesson, or some Auror we had captured who needed to be shown the might of the Dark Lord's followers. Also, we would discuss possible means for resurrecting You-Know-Who, and any research we had done to that effect. Once he had assigned partners to go on raids and so forth, then he brought out what he called the evening entertainment." Here Severus's lip curled in disgust.

"Would you describe what was meant by that, Mr. Snape?"

"Lucius would bring out the current Muggle he had captured that week, it was usually a woman or a child, though sometimes also a teenage boy or a man, and proceed to torture them. He would use Unforgivables on them, such as the Imperius and Cruciatus curse, and also more mundane methods of torture and rape as well. The others would watch, because they knew that after Malfoy had his pound of flesh, they would get their own turn. Lucius believed that if you performed your duties well, you should be rewarded, and this was how he did it, by providing innocent victims for them to torture, rape, and kill. Sometimes . . .he would choose one of us and give us the person for the evening, if he thought we were particularly deserving . . .other times the victim was passed around the circle and each one took a turn casting curses, or hurting the person."

"And how did the others react when he did that? Did they participate willingly? Did they ever remove their masks so you could see their faces?"

"Yes, some did take their masks off. Those were the ones who truly reveled in that awful practice. They descended to the level of beasts . . .or worse, for I've yet to see an animal torture and rape a six-year-old. Everyone participated . . .it was almost required." There was a look of utter loathing on the Potion Master's face.

"Was Narcissa Malfoy ever present at one of these meetings?"

"Not usually, though once or twice she did attend some."

"And did she participate in the . . .entertainment?"

"Once, yes. That time, it was a man. She used a Lust Curse to make him mad with desire . . .among other things." Severus said coldly, but the disgust was plain to see in his eyes.

"I see. Were you forced into . . .participating as well, Mr. Snape?"

"I was a supposed loyal Death Eater, so yes, I was expected to have fun like the rest of them. But I did not cast anything harmful upon any of the victims. I used Glamour Charms to deceive my fellow wizards into thinking I was doing as they do, while in reality I was trying to help the victims with healing spells. I was usually the last one to either have a turn or if I was given my own victim, I would retreat to a private place and use magic to heal them partially from the trauma and send them back to their homes or to a hospital for treatment."

"And Lucius never knew of this?"

Snape shook his head. "No. I would tell him the victim died and I had taken care of the evidence. He never looked more closely at me, it was an accepted practice to torture someone to death, after all, they were only Muggles and Muggleborns, lower than dirt, so what did they matter?" the sneer in Severus's voice was unmistakable.

"Where did you learn to cast such tight Glamours?"

"From my maternal grandfather, Micah Prince. He was an expert at them and taught me well."

"Even though you tried to save some of the victims, you probably weren't able to save them all. How did that affect you?"

"I would, of course regret very deeply not being able to save the poor person, especially if it were a child. Those . . .those were the worst. To watch the torture of any human being is bad enough, but an innocent child . . .those nights I remained awake and unable to sleep afterwards and was quite ill for days afterwards. And I vowed that someday I would make Lucius and all his kind pay for their crimes, that one day justice would catch them, and serve them as they had served others, without mercy or pity."

"Thank you, Mr. Snape. No further questions, Your Honor." Dresden bowed to the judge and stepped away.

Highguard looked over at the defense attorney. "Counselor, would you like to cross-examine the witness?"

"I would, Your Honor." Knave rose and approached Severus. He was dressed in robes and a suit underneath it that would have cost the Potions Master half his yearly salary at Hogwarts. His light brown hair was cut and slicked back in the latest style in WG magazine (Wizarding Gentlemen) and his whole appearance fairly screamed unscrupulous rich defense attorney.

He circled Severus like a tiger shark looking for its next meal, his faint smile cold and hungry. Severus met his stare unflinchingly. "Mr. Snape, is it not true that once you were Lucius Malfoy's friend? That you were in school together, members of Slytherin House?"

"Yes, we went to school together, Counselor, though he was five years my senior. We were both Slytherins, and for a time I was friends with him. Lucius was very charismatic and I did not know him for what he was until he introduced me to the Death Eaters."

"Yet you followed his lead like a puppy, is that not so? You were swayed by his pureblood doctrine and joined the Death Eaters willingly, is that not so?"

"I followed Lucius down the dark path, yes, but I was sixteen, and naive. I did not realize where it would lead. Lucius did, however. He knew exactly what he was doing when he befriended me."

"Oh? And what was that?"

"Corrupting yet another soul," Severus replied bluntly. "Only he failed with me. Once I realized that his little club was nothing more than a front for support of You-Know-Who, I tried to get out of it."

"Did you? Then how come you bear the mark of one of their inner circle, Mr. Snape? You weren't trying very hard if you've taken the Dark Mark. Tell the truth, sir, you enjoyed being one of them, you were a willing participant, were you not?"

"No. I was never a willing follower of You-Know-Who. I followed Lucius, because he pretended to be my friend and I was sixteen and . . .unpopular with my classmates."

"Why was that? Was it because you spouted pureblood doctrine and the return of the Dark Lord?" challenged the attorney.

"No . . .it was because I was too smart and dating a Muggleborn witch from Gryffindor House."

There were gasps of surprise around the room at that statement.

"And what did she think of you becoming a Death Eater, Mr. Snape?"

"She knew the truth, that I was never one of them. She urged me to go to the Headmaster and tell him what I knew about the meetings, I had only been attending them for two weeks, and I did. I told Albus Dumbledore everything and asked that he help me leave them. He told me instead that he wanted me to remain and spy upon them. I became a secret agent upon his request, and he also ordered me to take the Mark, though that was many years later, when I was twenty-one. He told me it was necessary, that we needed someone close to the Dark Lord and Lucius, someone they trusted, who could learn what they planned and never suspect of giving information to the other side. I was perfect for his plan."

"How did he know he could trust you?"

"He didn't. Until I took Veritaserum of my own will and proved that I was not an ally of the dark."

Knave had not been expecting that, and seemed taken aback. But there was no way he could refute testimony under Veritaserum and so he took a different tack. "And was there never a time you felt comfortable with the Death Eaters? Never a point that you felt a rush when the entertainment was going on?"

Severus shook his head. "Never. Such vile practices are heinous and I never felt anything save shock and revulsion that I was forced to witness such atrocities. I am a teacher of children, do you think the Headmaster would have hired me if I . . .had tendencies towards abuse and molestation, Counselor?"

"I'll ask the questions, Mr. Snape, if you don't mind," Knave snapped, clearly caught off guard by Severus's sudden attack. "Yet, despite your disgust of their practices, you remained good enough friends with Lucius that he made you his son's godfather. Is that not true?"

"Yes. I continued to cultivate Lucius and when he Narcissa had a baby they named me as godfather."

"And is it not also true that you are now said godson's legal guardian?"

"It is."

"And is it not also true that if convicted, the bulk of the Malfoy fortune and estate would pass to your ward, who would then inherit a tidy sum?"

"Most likely, yes."

"But of course he would not be able to touch it until he was of age. But you could withdraw funds from it, Mr, Snape."

"Yes, as necessary."

"So then, now you have access to the Malfoy fortune, which is a great sum of money, and you want to put the Malfoys away for good so that you may continue enjoying the benefits of several million Galleons, is that not so?"

"I have not touched any of the Malfoy fortune. That money does not belong to me, it belongs to Draco. I have little need of it, since I inherited a great sum from Micah Prince." Severus said, turning the tables neatly on the attorney, who was seeking to paint him as a gold digger and unscrupulous, to destroy his credibility as a witness, so that his clients would walk free.

"Not one little bit of it? Not even for Draco's upkeep? Or school supplies?"

"No. As I said before, that money does not belong to me. I used my own money to purchase school supplies for my godson, and whatever else he needed."

"Can you prove that, Mr. Snape?"

"As a matter of fact, I can. If you wish, you may contact Gringotts bank and see the withdrawal I made from my account. I have the receipt for it at home." Severus said smoothly. "The bank teller will show you that I came into Gringotts to withdraw money from my own account only, the Malfoys' hasn't been unlocked."

"I shall be speaking to the bank manager then." Knave said, seeming quite annoyed. "No further questions, Your Honor."

"You may step down, Mr. Snape."

Severus rose and went back to sit next to Draco, amid a round of applause and cheering.

Highguard banged his gavel down on the podium. "Order! Order in the court! This is not a Quidditch match."

The applause and whistles and so forth died down. Highguard beckoned the two attorneys over to the podium. A few minutes later, he declared the court would break for a short recess, then resume after lunch.

Harry was immensely grateful for the recess, for not only was he starving, but he desperately needed to use the toilet. He had not wanted to miss his father's testimony, however, so he ignored his bladder, but now the urgency was too great. He slipped out of the courtroom and followed some spectators down a corridor to the men's room, thinking that his father's testimony must have swayed the jury towards a conviction.

* * * * * *

After the recess, Dresden called another witness to the stand, one Octavian Malfoy, a cousin of Lucius and also a member of the Death Eaters. Since he was not appearing willingly before the court, he was given three drops of Veritaserum. Then another round of interrogation began, and it was revealed that Severus's account of the meetings was dead on target, and also that Severus had given himself away by refusing to rape a seven-year-old girl, resulting in Lucius, MacNair, and Avery hunting him down like a criminal and trying to kill him.

"It's too bad they didn't, the filthy traitor!" spat Octavian, glaring at Severus with undisguised hatred.

"Restrain yourself. Mr. Malfoy!" rebuked Highguard. "This is a court of law, not a street in Diagon Alley. You do not threaten another witness."

Octavian subsided, glowering balefully.

He was dismissed and more witnesses were called, both for the defense and the prosecution. Narcissa was revealed to have hidden several Death Eaters wanted by the Ministry in her home, as well as being an ardent supporter of her husband and all he stood for. More evidence was gathered, until it appeared that there was no way the jury would not convict them.

At last, there were no more witnesses and the attorneys made their closing remarks and Highguard declared that the court would recess until a verdict was reached.

The Wizengamot members all departed and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Draco looked at the prosecutor, and saw that Dresden seemed relaxed and confident. He breathed a bit easier. Then he made himself look at the two chairs, which were Chairs of Bondage, at his parents, who sat in them as though they were thrones.

Lucius met his gaze steadily, and Draco fought to keep from flinching, for there was a world of darkness in the frost-blue eyes, and no remorse at all. He gave his son a small nod, which Draco knew meant he was to keep on supporting Voldemort and play his godfather for a fool for revenge, if necessary.

Draco nodded, then dropped his gaze. Please, please, convict them, he prayed fervently, his hands clenched to white knuckled fists on his robe.

Severus reached out and placed a hand on the teen's shoulder. "Steady, Dragon. It's almost over."

"What's taking them so long?"

"They must be certain, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that they are guilty before handing down a guilty verdict."

Draco heaved a sigh and shifted upon the bench, trying not to bite his nails. The wait seemed like an eternity, but it was in reality only an hour.

Then the door to the courtroom creaked open and the members of the Wizengamot filed back in.

Highguard turned to them and asked, "Have you all voted on this issue?"

"We have, Your Honor," answered Dumbledore.

"Good. Very well. How say you all in the matter of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy? Guilty or not guilty?"

He pointed his wand at Albus. "Headmaster?"

"Guilty, Your Honor."

And so it went, about the semi-circle, with all the jury casting a vote for conviction. Only two people abstained. Judge Highguard banged his gavel down on the podium once more. "The jury's verdict is Guilty, by unanimous decree. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, you are convicted of crimes against the Ministry and humanity and of being a traitor to your country. I hearby sentence you to life imprisonment in Azkaban without parole. The court further declares that all of your property, assets, and holdings shall revert to the Ministry, who will set up a trust in the name of your son, one Draco Michael Malfoy. Said trust will be held until he comes of age at seventeen, upon which time he shall inherit all the Malfoy holdings, etcetera. The trial of the Ministry vs. Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy is closed."

There were wild shrieks and cheers around the courtroom at that announcement.

"Mr. and Mrs, Malfoy, are there any last requests you might have before the bailiff escorts you back to Azkaban?" queried the judge.

Lucius looked rather stunned, but he recovered quickly. "Yes, we would like to speak with our son, who is there," he jerked his head towards the bench where Draco was sitting.

"Very well." Highguard gestured, and the chains unwrapped themselves from the prisoners, allowing them to stand and greet their son. "Young Mr. Malfoy, approach the bench, please."

Draco froze, and it was only through Severus's urging that he rose and went over to the podium. The Potions Master followed. "Sir?"

"Your parents wish to speak with you, and I have decided to allow it, as a final courtesy. You may bid them farewell, lad." Highguard said gently.

Draco nodded reluctantly.

"Come here, Draco," ordered Lucius.

Draco found himself automatically obeying the stern tone, as he had been conditioned to all of his life. Even manacled, Draco still found his father a frightening figure. "Yes, Father?"

"Do not despair, son. This is not over. I will have an appeal sent out and we shall yet be free of this unjust charge. Until then, I wish you to remain strong and follow the values I have instilled in you. Remember that you are my son and a Malfoy above all and now it is up to you to carry on where I cannot. You know what I'm speaking of, do you not?"

"Yes, Father," Draco said quietly. He took a deep breath, gathering all of his courage, and anger, and resentment he had harbored for fourteen years and glared at Lucius. "You want me to become what you are-a coldblooded killer who worships a dead necromancer. You want me to take up the dark mantle and the mask and become a monster who tortures women and children because it is fun and who laughs when a child is screaming and thinks no more of killing a Muggle or Muggleborn than I would kill an insect. That is the Malfoy heritage and legacy, is it not, Father?"

Lucius's eyes grew stormy. "What are you saying, son? How dare you defile your mouth by calling the Dark Lord a dead necromancer? And to defend Muggles and Mudbloods-the dregs of the street? This is the result of you living with that filthy Mudblood lover Snape! He has poisoned your mind, turned you against me."

"No, Father. He has opened my eyes to the truth. And now I see clearly. And I don't want to become the dark son like you wish. I don't believe in your cause. I never have."

"You lie! What did Snape promise you in return for this betrayal, Draco? I initiated you into the Way."

"Uncle Severus promised me a normal life, and a chance to live without a shadow on my soul, Father. I think that is worth far more than what you offered me. I obeyed you out of fear, but now I have a choice, and I choose the righthand path. I want no part of your plans, Father," Draco said firmly. "I am no longer a Death Eater's son."

Before Lucius could reply to that shockingly bold declaration, Narcissa stepped forward, her gray eyes blazing and cried, "How DARE you speak that way to your father, young man? After all we have done for you, all we have sacrificed, you dare to turn your back on us and disgrace your Name and family by crawling to Severus Snape-the half-blood beggar-and taking his hand like a dog? What has happened to you, Draco? Where is your pride? You are a pureblood, you don't associate with Mudbloods and blood traitors and half-blood scum. I taught you better than that when you were three!"

"I know you did, Mother. But . . .you were wrong. I am sorry I could not be what you wanted. But you ought to be glad that I am better than my father," Draco said, and then he looked her in the face as well.

Narcissa gasped. "Ungrateful brat!" she cried, then she drew back her hand as far as the manacles would allow and smacked her son across the face.

Draco staggered and the Aurors leaped forward to grab her. Narcissa ignored them, shouting furiously, "You have disgraced me past bearing, you are not fit to be my heir, you should have never been born, you puling milksop! Would that I had strangled you at birth! Go! Get out of my sight. You are no son of mine!"

Draco backed away, one hand going to his cheek, his gray eyes wide with pain. Clearly his mother's vicious words had cut him deeply.

Severus sprang forward then, his face a mask of fury, and he interposed himself between Narcissa and Draco with the speed of a black mamba. His hand shot out and gripped Narcissa by the collar of her shirt and he snarled, "Keep your hands off my ward, woman! You dare to call yourself a mother? You aren't fit to be a mother to a cockroach, much less a child! You are a disgrace, madam, to every mother since the beginning of time!"

"Release me, filthy traitor!"

"You allowed your husband to corrupt and hurt your own son, and you dare to call yourself a parent? You disgust me. And you ought to thank Merlin, madam, that I don't believe in violence towards a woman, else you would be picking your teeth up off the ground! Draco is no son of yours, Narcissa, that much is true. He is now my son, and your legacy of darkness and death ends with you, you unnatural harpy! May you find sympathy in the arms of the devil, for you'll find none from me!"

Then he thrust her away, as if he had touched something foul and rotting.

"Bailiff, escort the prisoners away!" ordered the judge. He turned to Severus. "I apologize, Mr. Snape. I had thought they would wish to say goodbye, had I known this would happen . . ."

"You could not know, Your Honor. Do not blame yourself for the spite of a wicked hag," Snape said shortly. He turned to see to Draco. "How badly are you hurt, son?"

"I'll live," answered Draco slowly, for it hurt to talk, one of the manacles had cut into his lip. He still had a hand covering his cheek and part of his mouth.

Before he could say anything else, several flashbulbs went off and there were a dozen reporters clustered about them with quills and pads, wanting to know what had happened.

"Mr. Malfoy, how do you feel about your inheritance?"

"Mr. Malfoy, do you feel exonerated now that your parents are behind bars?"

"Mr. Snape, will you be adopting Mr. Malfoy, now that his parents have disowned him?"

"Mr. Snape, would you be willing to do an interview?"

Severus latched onto Draco's arm and began to push his way past the knot of reporters, ignoring their questions and sending more than a few scurrying away with a sneer and a pointed glare.

"Back off, you bloody vultures!" shouted Highguard, following Severus. "Mr. Snape, I need you to sign some papers regarding Mr. Malfoy's trust fund, if you would."

Severus turned around. "Your Honor, I would appreciate if you would owl the forms to me, I really do not want to linger here. My son is injured and he needs to be at home."

"Yes, of course, how thoughtless of me. Forgive me, Mr. Snape. I shall be owling you directly."

The judge then turned and retreated into the quiet haven of his chambers, away from the mob of reporters and spectators.

"Severus!" called Dumbledore, making his way easily through the crowd. "Might I have a word with you?"

Snape ground his teeth. "Later, Albus! Right now I am sick of being questioned and if you need to speak to me, owl me. This has gone on long enough and we are going home." He kept a firm hold of Draco's shoulder and began to shoulder his way through the crowd, hoping that Harry was nearby, for he sensed Draco was close to falling apart and he wanted to get the boy back to the manor before he lost it.

They had almost made it to the doors leading out of the courtroom when Octavian Malfoy stepped in front of them.

Lucius's cousin's face was dark with fury and he spat on the ground at Draco's feet. "Filthy little Mudblood lover! Your mother was right. You aren't fit to inherit a dungheap, much less Malfoy Manor, you rotten little bugger! I hope you-!"

WHAM!

The lanky blond-haired wizard was knocked flying onto the floor. He sat up, whimpering and clutching his nose, which was streaming blood.

Draco rubbed his right hand and growled, "Shut it, Octavian! Now go crawl back into the hole you crawled out of, you dungbeetle carcass. Before I have you arrested for slander. Get!"

The weaselly man scrambled to his feet and hobbled away, yelling, "Someday you'll regret that, traitor! When He rises again, you'll be one of the first to die!"

"Up yours, you arsehole!" Harry yelled after him.

"Hush!" Severus ordered. "Stay close to me and be quiet."

He led the two at a brisk walk from the Ministry courtroom and into the bright sunshine of a London morning. They walked for another three feet before Severus spotted a convenient potted elephant ear plant and ducked behind it.

"Harry, where are you?" he hissed.

"Here, sir," whispered Harry, throwing off the hood of the cloak.

"Take my other arm," ordered the elder wizard. "We're going home."

Then they Apparated to the deserted lonely moor, where Severus summoned and parted the Evermist so they could return to the haven of Prince Manor.