Olives and Bread

After the Trial

As soon as the doors had been closed, Draco took a deep, long breath. His head was spinning, he still felt all the eyes, suspiciously peering down at him. His throat was dry as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat that had been there the moment he had entered the dark, marble room. His hands found their way through his combed hair and it was only then when he noticed how hard he was trembling. Had he been shaking this much throughout the entire trial? He stared blankly at his hands, examining his long, pale fingers that showed some scratches from his nails which he had pierced into his skin throughout the whole time.

"Mr. Malfoy, this way", his lawyer mumbled in his ear, suddenly appearing next to him.

He placed his hand on Draco's shoulder and shoved him slightly forwards. Quietly, they walked down the dark corridor of the Department of Mystery, every of their steps noisily audible. Draco kept his eyes on the tips of his shoes while they were waiting for the elevator to get them up again. He stretched his fingers and compressed his lips, desperately trying not to think about the hearing. The elevator arrived and they both entered. On their way up, Deane, his lawer, raised his voice.

"So, we made it, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco uphold his head, glanced at him shortly and dropped his gaze again.

"I know", he said, his voice unsteady.

He cleared his throat.

"Thank you", he added then, his eyes still fixed on his shoes.

Deane nudged his elbow into Draco's side, playfully, and grinned at him when he finally looked up properly, locking eyes with his lawyer. Unwillingly, he returned his grin with a slight smile. And somewhere inside of him, a ray of sunlight shone through the heavy, dull blanket of clouds. It was over.

"Well, you still have to work off your social service but apart from that", Deane spread his arms, "you're a free man. Well, and the ministry will continue tracking your Disapparition. But you can do whatever you want to do."

Draco nodded, trying to ignore the fact that his freedom had cost his father's freedom who was certainly on his way back to Azkaban in that very moment. To his surprise, though, he felt no guilt. Emptiness, anxiety – yes, but he didn't feel guilty. He hadn't felt it when he looked into his father's eyes, watching him pleadingly, and confirmed the judge's statements. He hadn't felt guilty when the judge had spoken the verdict. In fact, he hadn't felt nothing at all. And even now, being cleared of all charges, being a "free man", there was still nothing.

The elevator's doors opened. The ground floor was crowded with people, witches and wizards who were living their daily life, working at the Ministry. Just like Draco had imagined when he had gone through today's succession with his lawyer. Deane had also warned him of publicity and reporters, though when the lift had stopped and the doors had opened the air was disrupted by flashes of cameras and yelling of Draco's name. It happened at a speed that Draco was unable to follow and he froze where he stood, blended by the light of the flashes of cameras. Only when he felt his lawyer's hand pressing against his back, urging him to move forwards, his muscles seemed to function again and he left the elevator.

"Mr. Malfoy, how do you feel, having betrayed your family?"

"Do you feel proud? Is your mother proud? Where is she? We've come to know that she did not attend the hearing-"

"Have you been in contact with Harry Potter before the hearing? It was shocking for everyone to hear about his perspective!"

"How do you feel? Are you scared? Some people might not think your verdict is justified, what do you think, Mr. Malfoy?"