Skill and Seclusion [2] || Harry Potter x OC x Draco Malfoy

164. I'm Going Back

DISCLAIMER

I do not own Harry Potter ... but fuck JK Rowling dude. Coming for asexuals? Go lick the black mould on your walls 

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Gus had to give Bel permission before she was allowed to move from her bed.

Apparently, the smallest wrong movement would pull open the stiches Molly Weasley had sewn to keep the remainder of her wound shut.

After changing her bandages, he had deemed her too fragile to move for the rest of the day.

But Bel wasn't going to listen to anyone calling her 'fragile'.

That word wasn't allowed to apply to her in any sense.

Not to mention she was very motivated to leave her bed and get moving. She wanted to head directly to the Ministry of Magic to be there for this hearing Harry was attending.

Gus had indeed filled her in. The dementors that had attacked Harry in Little Whinging, the resultant threat of expulsion from Hogwarts, Dumbledore persuading Fudge to delay the official expulsion until the hearing took place to decide Harry's fate.

Bel knew exactly what fate would be handed to him by Cornelius Fudge.

Expulsion would be a lesser sentence by the time the hearing was through. Fudge would dig deeper, aim to destroy Harry's reputation and use this attack to try and prove the innocent boy a liar.

A dangerous liar.

Harry couldn't be led to such a fate alone. He needed someone, anyone, remotely on his side in whatever court room they would stuff him into.

Sure, Bel wasn't the optimal choice. Dumbledore had decreed that she was to stay as far away from the Ministry – and Fudge – as possible.

If she stepped foot in that courtroom, they'd sooner put her on trial beside Harry than allow her room to speak in his defence.

No, as much as she wanted to, Bel couldn't be the one to go. So someone else had to.

Hence why Bel found herself getting up from bed after being given instructions to stay put, and heading down to the kitchen where the candidates available to head to the Ministry would be having a spot of lunch.

"You're supposed to be resting."

Remus' chastising voice called through the wide open kitchen door right before she entered the room.

The kitchen was warm and cozy, scented with baked chicken and fresh bread from Molly's expert cooking that was being thoroughly enjoyed by what seemed to be every single person currently living under the headquarters' roof.

The table didn't have a single chair free, each adult and child alike situated in the same place.

Clearly, Harry's hearing hadn't just unnerved her. They were all awaiting word of its outcome whilst eating to work through their nerves.

"I'm not tired", Bel replied as her godfather laid down the latest edition of the Daily Prophet, purposefully turning it cover-down – no doubt to hide the foul words mentioning Bel printed in bold all over the front – and stood from his chair to offer her a seat.

"You don't need the rest to catch up on sleep. You need it to heal", he continued to reprimand as he gestured to the now-vacant chair.

"I'm healed enough", Bel tried to sound convincing as she sat down, holding back a wince as her bandaged torso crumpled.