The Healer II- The Patient (Draco Malfoy Fanfiction)

Chapter 17- Draco's Story

This chapter is long.... long, but spicy. ;)

---

"After the war ended, my parents and I, as well as the few remaining Death Eaters, were put on trial by the Ministry of Magic. There was much ambiguity about which side my family was on."

"Why?" I blurted out.

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "You really heard nothing in America, did you?" He shifted in his seat, wincing a little from the wound. Although he was obviously drunk, he treated the topic with a kind of respectful disdain.

"My mother lied to Voldemort," he said the name freely, like he had gotten used to saying it by now. "She told him he had successfully killed Harry Potter when he hadn't. And furthermore.... Potter used my wand to finally eliminate him from existence. Hence why I had to get a new wand." Irritation formed on the corners of his lips and in his eyebrows. "There were rumors that I handed Potter my wand myself, which would have looked good for me, but it simply wasn't true. He took it from me. However..." He paused thoughtfully. "I'm glad it was my wand that finally finished Voldemort. Very few people on this earth knew just how much I actually despised him." Draco looked at me. "But you knew."

I nodded, slightly subdued by sadness, remembering the psychological and emotional torture Draco endured while following Voldemort's orders to assassinate Dumbledore in his 6th year. Not long after my transfer to Ilvermorny, I read in the newspaper that Dumbledore had been assassinated by Professor Snape. It was so absurd that I was unconvinced for years that it was the truth. But my old roommate, Greta Munch, had confirmed it herself in a letter after the war ended.

"What you read in the papers is true. The headmaster was killed by Professor Snape. I still don't understand how he could do something like that. Sorry for my shaky handwriting. I know it happened over a year ago, but I still can't really talk about it." That was exactly what she wrote on the matter. Greta, who had a hard time shutting up about anything, gave me exactly five sentences.

Draco sighed heavily. "The Ministry picked me apart for an entire year. Although I apologized, they couldn't just let go of my past insurrections, and there were plenty. I stood trial for much longer than anyone else. Longer than my father, even. Because they couldn't decide if I was morally past retribution or not."

Draco's expression softened and tensed as he spoke. "As we stood trial, the Ministry asked all former Death Eaters to formally renounce pureblood supremacy. They asked my father first." His voice lowered, his eyes distant. "He looked Kingsley Shacklebolt right in his eyes and said a firm, heavy 'no'."

Draco tipped the bottle back in his mouth again and grimaced, which only made me more nervous to hear what Draco was going to say next.

"When they asked me, I knew by then that I didn't believe in it like I thought I did. And yet... like a coward, I couldn't say it on the public record. I was unwilling.... And afraid to go against my father."

An unexplainable amalgam of emotions stirred within me when it finally registered with me that Draco was unable to renounce pureblood supremacy due to some loyalty he still had to his father's antiquated beliefs. "That was stupid of you," I said, my voice wavering on the threshold between sadness and anger. It's like our relationship taught him nothing.

"It remains one of the biggest regrets of my life," Draco admitted. "The Ministry used our statements as grounds to exile my father and I to separate countries so there was no chance of another pureblood movement arising from what remained of Voldemort's former followers. My mother, who was never a Death Eater, decided to go with my father to Austria, and I was sent to France."