DRAGON'S HEARTSTRINGS || dramione | harry potter

Chapter Thirty-Four

During the second and the third (the final) set of trials was a two-week gap that Hermione didn't know what to fill with because she was no longer allowed to meet Draco – he attended his sessions with Amita alone, who tried to report it all back to Hermione, but she still felt left out.

Sometime in between she heard on the radio that Kingsley Shacklebolt had become the new Minister of Magic. So she did the only thing she could think of – she went to talk to him about Draco.

Kingsley was polite to her, offering her tea, but warning her that he had little time for her, so she went straight to business.

"You need to pardon Draco for his crimes. He helped the Order. He killed Voldemort. He ended the war. Surely there must be something you can do to stop the trial from continuing."

Kingsley's face fell. He studied her for a long moment.

"Ms. Granger, that was before—"

"Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione interrupted him.

"I—excuse me?" Kingsley seemed at a loss for words.

"I'm married to Draco now, so you're to address me as Mrs. Malfoy, Minister," she explained.

"Right..." Kingsley mumbled. "As I was saying, these conditions were legitimate before what happened during the Slaughter of Hogwarts." That's what they called it now – the Slaughter of Hogwarts. Hermione didn't understand why. Nobody was slaughtered. "He was to be pardoned before he killed half of the Order."

"That is not fair. All he did was try to protect me when Snape wanted to kill me."

"I'm very sorry, but there is nothing I can do." Kingsley, however, did not seem apologetic at all.

"You're the Minister, you can do everything!"

"But not that. I'm sorry, Hermione."

Hermione went silent, studying Kingsley's face. "You once told me Harry was the heart of the Order. And then you said that I was the soul. Don't I mean anything to you?" she asked with a quivering voice – it was more an act than a true emotion.

Kingley was visibly taken aback by her vulnerability, he even seemed saddened by her.

"Of course you do, you mean a lot. You're all that's left of the Golden Trio, you're the war hero—"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't need your praise, Minister. I just want my husband back. He is all I have left. Promise me he won't get the death penalty. Promise me he won't get life in prison."

Kingsley thought for a few long minutes. He didn't lie to her and didn't say he had no power in this – he did. But she even started thinking he might not answer at all, and then he did. "I cannot promise you anything, but I will try to look into it and see what I can do. I don't want you to think this country does not support its' victors."

That's who she was – a victor. But that was merely an empty word, signifying nothing.

She stood up. "Thank you for your time, Minister. I hope you make the right call."

The third and final trial began, and Hermione felt strangely calm. She didn't know what to expect, she had no idea if she could trust Kingsley, but she knew that whatever happened, she will accept it with her head held high.

It started and ended with the retelling of the Slaughter of Hogwarts – that name still made Hermione shiver.

The prosecutor had no mercy. Or maybe he had too much mercy. His questions were sharp and clear, and Draco had nothing else to do but to answer them truthfully – and the answers were horrid, the mass of the people in the courtroom all let out the same gasps of disgust, sighs of terror and mumbles of disbelief while the full picture of the night's events was being drawn.