The Glass Dragon

Prolouge: Warriors

In youth you'd lay
Awake at night and scheme
Of all the things that you would change,
But it was just a dream...
- Imagine Dragons

"Give me your wand Malfoy. And I'll testify at the trial for you and your mother."

Draco stood still, wavering, grey eyes locked with Harry's as the Gryffindor's words slowly sunk in.

It was almost two months after the war. Not a lot had happened, they were enemies still; at least he knew them to be in Potters mind. He licked his lips, weighing options. If he accepted, he'd just be under another foot, but his mother could go free.

"What's the catch Potter? I can just go and buy another one." His voice cracked from weariness. He just wanted to go to sleep. Not home though. That house was tainted for years to come and Draco refused to step foot in it. Potter frowned.

"There's no catch, you suspicious bastard. You give me your wand, your word, however much that means -which is probably nothing-, and I'll testify at the Wizengamot trial. You see me at Hogwarts and retrieve your wand for the classes that you need it. Otherwise... I keep it safe with me."

"Sounds like something your mud-blood friend came up with." The blonde quipped and instantly regretted. Potter smashed him against the wall, wand at his throat.

"Don't you ever talk about Hermione like that. The war's over and Voldemort is dead. I won't have people using those rotten terms around me!" The dark haired wizard pulled away, panting, his eyes a little glazed from fury. Draco rubbed his throat, suddenly keen on not angering Potter anymore. He was probably going to bruise. Potter glared at him, "And you can't buy another wand. Ollivanders, or any wand shop, won't sell to a death eater." He gestured as he spoke, and Draco felt the hair on his neck prickle, his mark tingling. He furrowed his perfect eyebrows, running a hand through his hair. It was ruined, and the Malfoy inwardly groaned at having to get it restyled. His grey eyes flicked to Potter's green, and he sighed, then nodded. Reluctantly, he offered his wand to the other wizard, palm up, the dark wand laying on it. Anything for his mother; she was all he had left really. The Malfoy let his slender hand drop to his side as Potter took back his wand. He stifled a groan and sighed heavily at its loss.

"If that's all, Potter, I will be going. I hope you've had your thrill of lording it over a death eater Potter." He snapped, exhaustion finally beginning to settle in and his short temper showing. He turned on his heel, heading for the fireplace in Dumbledore's, well McGonagall's, office. He threw floo powder in, stepping through after muttering a quiet direction for the Ministry of Magic. The trial was tomorrow, and Potter had finally given him hope for survival, but they weren't out of the dark. Even if Potter did testify, Lucius was still free, his mother would at the least be put under strict house arrest, and he would have an even stricter house arrest at Hogwarts during his upcoming eighth year.

That night, Draco did not sleep, and surprisingly, neither did Harry.

The next morning came too slowly and too quickly all at once. Draco was woken by two Aurors inside his room, which was more of a cell with a big cot. Hauled roughly to his feet, they patted him down for his wand. Typically they would have checked him for it the day before, but as a pureblood, they still had some standing with the Ministry. Unfortunately for Draco, he didn't with these Aurors.

"Where's your wand Malfoy?" Banks asked gruffly, muttering an Accio wand and when it did not work, patted him down manually.

"Don't have it. Just take me to the courtroom." Draco gritted out, disliking the way the mans hands moved over him. Banks tilted his chin up with his wand, eyes dark.