The Malfoy Project

𝟏𝟎𝟔 - 𝐋𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐭

༻❁༺

I was jolted awake by a rough shake. I try to open my eyes, but they had swelled so much from crying and sleep I could barely see through the slits they made.

At first, there were a few fleeting moments of bliss; I had no recollection of everything that had happened. Then Narcissa's face came into focus, grave and grey. I wanted to say something, hi, maybe, but only managed a low groan.

"Gabriella," she said, her voice sounded loud as thunder in the quietness of the room. "Wake up."

Wake up.

I snapped awake. Slowly, my surrounding gained form: the vanity table, the wall-length curtains, their skirts hemmed with a ribbon of white light, the half-filled decanter of water. As I waded through the thick swamp of my mind, Narcissa strode to the curtains and flung them open. Sunlight flooded the room, and with it came a rush of memories. Andromeda's room. Draco. Azkaban. Ernie.

"Wake up," Narcissa said again. She sounded rushed and worried. I frowned. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Nearly two days." She went to the wardrobe and pulled out a few things, tossing them onto the foot of the bed. "Get in the shower, get dressed. Something's come up."

My thoughts immediately went to the worst. "What's wrong, is it Draco?"

"No," she said, picking up the decanter and glass. Then she paused and sighed. "Well, yes. Selwyn will explain. He's downstairs. Quick as you can now."

I jumped from the bed, the curve of my neck screaming from soreness. I showered and put on the clothes Narcissa had chosen, barely worrying about the fact that the oversized cotton T-shirt and black silk shorts did not match.

In five minutes I was flying down the corridor. Muscle memory kicked in as I turned corners and thudded down the staircase. When I came to the foyer, it was empty, as if nobody was home.

"Gabriella." Narcissa's head popped out from behind the study door. "In here, quickly."

Selwyn seated behind the desk, studying a stack of paper that obscured his face. In front of him, more stacks of paper were spread about in a haphazard fashion. He did not bother greeting me or even looking up. "Ainsley, the trial begins next Monday, you already know this," he said.

"Yes," I said, my heart thudding in my chest.

"You will be called to the witness stand to testify."

"Yes."

"You understand that our ultimate goal in this trial is to strive for a favourable outcome, that being the jury — the council of the Wizengamot — find Draco not guilty of murder." Selwyn slapped the piece of paper down, revealing his piercing bespectacled gaze. "Yes, they've charged him with murder of the second degree. And the evidence against him is overwhelming. His wand, first of all, which they've now proven did indeed fire an Unforgiveable. Second, there's the dreaded Mark and all the sins it carries. Both of these alone are enough to send him to Azkaban for a long time. But then, of course, there's the relationship triangle we have to deal with."

"But Draco would never hurt Ernie," I stammered. "They were friends. It doesn't make sense."

"Second-degree murder, Miss Ainsley," repeated Selwyn impatiently. "Do you know what that means? An accidental death. They have it that he hadn't intended to kill Ernie, no. It was the Montague boy he'd wanted to finish off. Your friend just got in the way. But the intention was there to kill, and they've got little to prove."

I shrugged, irritated. "Fine, so help me. Tell me what to say to them and I'll say it."

"Before that, you have to know this came in the mail today." Selwyn took an envelope that had been lying neatly by him and extended it to me between two long skinny fingers. "It's for you."