On the Behalf of Draco Malfoy

Chapter 1

Harry walked into the ministry of magic, hands shaking and palms sweaty. He didn't want to do this, or so he told himself. He knew he needed to do it. Nobody knew he was here, but everyone would know soon enough, thanks to the Daily Prophet. Before walking into the room of his destination, he ran his palms down his jeans, and tried to tame his hair, which didn't work. It was good enough, he supposed.

He opened the door of the courtroom, and cleared his throat. He tried not to look at the person in the center of the room, chained to the chair he himself had been in, a few years prior, in his fifth year. He took a deep breath, and announced a statement he never imagined he would be saying.

"I'd like to testify on the behalf of Draco Malfoy."

Cold, stiff, and bored. That's how Draco felt. He had been sitting in that chair all morning, arms chained. When nobody was paying attention to him, Draco closed his eyes. He let himself travel back to the night before.

He was in the Manor, reading a book in the library, while drinking a cup of hot hibiscus tea. Everything was quiet, except for the crackling fire in the fireplace. He practically jumped out of his skin when there was a knock at the door. The noise reverberated through the whole building. Nobody visited these days. He put his book and tea down, and he made his way through the many halls of the Manor. Anyone there for the first time would have gotten lost within their first step, but Draco knew this place by heart. When he arrived in the doorway, he opened it, to see three aurors.

"Draco Malfoy?" The one in the front asked.

"He's not here at the moment. Shall I leave a message?" Draco replied, slowly trying to close the door.

The auror on the left walked forward and put his foot on the door, not allowing Draco to shut it.

"Don't be a fool, silly boy. You look just like your father. You have to be Draco Malfoy. Besides, you've been in the Daily Prophet before."

Draco's blood went cold. He hated being compared to his father.

"The only fool here is you, might I add. You should let it click in your pea-sized brain that I am nothing like my father."

Draco suddenly realized what he had said.

"I-I mean-"

The next thing he knew, his arms were bound to his torso, his ankles bound together, and he was gagged. He tried kicking and punching and screaming, but it wasn't worth it. For every scream or kick or punch he would attempt to make, he was given the Cruciatus Curse. He knew, after that, he wasn't going to become free. They were going to torture him until he gave in, and he couldn't possibly do so, even if he wanted to. He didn't know where his father was. Yes, his mother went to France, but he would never give that information away, even if his life depended on it.

His mother loved him. Actually loved him. She was there for him on the nights when his father became abusive. She was there when he needed a shoulder to cry on. She needed him to keep the information private, and he would do so.

When Draco opened his eyes, he heard a voice that he knew so well. Almost too well. He turned his head so fast he almost got whiplash.

"Potter? What are you doing he-"

All of a sudden, Draco couldn't speak, much less breathe. He was being choked by magic. He felt himself drifting from consciousness, and he barely heard Potter's voice.

"Stop! You're going to kill him if you aren't careful!"

The choke gave way, and Draco took a few moments to catch his breath.