Fathers. Husbands. Lovers. Sons.

Chapter 13- Redemption

For a long while, they simply stared at each other. None of the words that flickered through Draco's mind seemed promising to improve the silence. So he just held his wife, happy that she was alive, and that for however long it lasted, they were together again.

“Mrs. Malfoy?” A tentative knock on the door echoed through the room. It eased open to reveal the face of a plump nurse. “It's time for his feeding.”

“His-?” Draco started to ask, but the sudden radiance on Ginny's face made his voice falter.

“Our son.” She said in a hushed, reverent tone. Her arms were stretched past him, reaching for the cocoon of blankets tucked against the nurse's chest.

Draco felt a shiver of something that he didn't understand. It was half-anticipation and half-dread. Our son. It didn't matter if Potter was the child's true father. As long as Ginny wanted them to be a family together, he would find a way to make it work. He didn't pretend that it didn't chafe- that the thought of Malfoy holdings in a Potter's hands made him writhe- but he wouldn't stand in the way of Ginny's happiness any more.

He watched uncomfortably as Ginny and the nurse fussed over the bundle, adjusting his wife's blouse and settling the wriggling bundle in the crook of her arm. The features of the baby were still hidden from his view. Draco couldn't staunch a faint curiosity. Had the baby inherited the Weasley red hair? Potters green eyes? Freckles?

“Do you want to see him?” Ginny asked. The smile on her face was beatific, completely oblivious to the pain that her husband was in.

“You can feed him first.”

The look of joy on her face dimmed, but she nodded. As soon as she returned her attention to the child, her expression rebounded. I wish I had made her that happy, Draco thought again. The scene before him swam as his eyes grew damp. Alarmed by his reaction, he turned away.

He walked to the window and stared down at the streets below. They were too high to see the Muggles scurrying past, completely oblivious to the entire world that lurked just beyond their view. He envied them, in a fashion. Muggle life seemed so uncomplicated- so straightforward and easy to predict. There were never any worries that the chair you were sitting on might transfigure itself back into a pincushion, or that you could turn into a canary, or that your father might suddenly be taken away to Azkaban and everything you believed in suddenly ripped away...

Draco shook his mind away from that train of thought. He didn't want to tread back into shadows. He knew too well that he would dwell in them tonight. It was Lucius's own fault that he had been sent to prison the first time, but now Draco's father would pay for crimes that were not his own. How was he going to live with himself? Draco winced at the memory of his mother's face, and he knew that once alone the prickling of his conscience would be as sharp as stabbing knives. A guilty part of him considered the imprisonment payment of a debt in full- how much suffering had Lucius caused the first time he had gone away? How could he ever hurt enough to make amends? But the bigger part of him- the part of him that had grown beyond the a broken, terrified fifteen year old boy, knew that some accounts were never meant to be tallied. Love had its own arithmetic. It didn't balance like galleons and knutes, compounding with interest, or becoming over drawn. It simply was.

“Sweet baby...” Ginny's cooing voice broke through his melancholy musings. He cleared his mind for a moment, soaking in the quiet peace.

Draco turned toward her. In spite of his black thoughts, he smiled. She looked so natural. She had been a mother for less than a day, but she already seemed to know precisely what to do. One of her hands cradled the baby's head, holding him against her breast while she whispered encouragingly. Soft suckling sounds drifted up from the blanket and then, finally, there was a low wail.

“All finished?” Ginny seemed unperturbed by the crying. She shifted the baby onto her shoulder and began rubbing his back. Draco was nearly convinced she had forgotten that he was even there, but then her warm chocolate eyes seized on him, “Come and see him, Draco.”

It was the moment of truth. Draco knew that he couldn't put this moment off any longer.

“The beginning of the rest of your life”... He had read the sentiment on a card once, and now it suddenly flashed through his mind. From this moment forward, he was a father- by choice, if not by nature.

Still without speaking, Draco eased himself onto the bed beside his wife. He opened his arms, but then hesitated uncertainly. He wished again that they had been given more time to prepare. He'd barely had enough time to soak in the fact that his wife was pregnant- and now they had the child!

“Just fold your arms.” Ginny instructed, seeming to sense his reluctance. “You won't hurt him. He's stronger than he looks. In spite of her words, Draco was nervous as she twisted in the bed. She leaned over him to place the bundle in his arms. “There you are.” She said, and then added. “Oh! So you've decided to be awake! Do you want to show daddy your pretty eyes?”

Instinctively, Draco looked down.

Then, he gasped.

**************************************

“Here you are, Missus.” The guard Narcissa had been following stopped in front of another door, “I can only give you a few minutes.”

“Yes, of course.” Narcissa didn't have the spirit to argue. She stepped past the guard and into the cell that held her husband. Lucius was sitting on the bench. His eyes were closed, but she could tell from his posture that he wasn't asleep. “Lucius.” She said quietly.

Slowly, his grey eyes fluttered open and landed on his wife. “You've heard.” He said. It was a statement, and not a question.

“Yes.”

“And you approve?”

“That isn't a fair question!” Narcissa couldn't contain the passion of her response. She was torn between conflicting desires. She wanted to console him and reaffirm her unyielding support, but she also wanted to lash out of him for inflicting more pain.

“They released Draco, I take it.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“That's all you have to say?” She was baiting him. She knew it. She had no idea what she expected him to say, or even what she wanted to hear. An apology? A reason? It didn't matter. It had all been said or understood. She was simply desperate for the sound of his voice. She needed to soak it in- to store enough of it so that she would remember the sound when he was gone.

“I had to do this Narcissa.”

“Why?” She hated the sound of her voice- hated the transparency of her grief. She knew that she wouldn't be any happier if she was visiting her son here- if another loved one was swallowed by the prison walls- but it didn't lessen the sting.

“Because his wife and child need him.”

“And we don't need you?” Narcissa clenched her eyes tightly. It was a futile gesture. Tears were already spilling freely. She thought again that this was pointless. She didn't want to fight. She would have done the same thing in Lucius's stead. As surely as she would have plucked her baby out of a burning building, she would have rescued him from this if it were within her power. It was the helplessness that she hated. Lucius had made the decision. Once again, she was left with only the ability to react.

“Not like that.” Lucius said, his voice raw. “You're so strong now.” He forced out. This time there was unmistakable pride mingled in the regret. “You'll know how to set everything just right again. You managed-”

“I don't want to manage!” she hissed, “I want to live!” It wasn't fair! It had never been fair. She had enjoyed so many benefits in life: beauty, money, power, even love- but in the end, they had all been taunts: beautiful, empty boxes with no happiness to make them useful and full.

“You will, Narcissa.” He stood and pulled her into his arms. Narcissa had the passing thought that she was grateful- at least his strength had returned. At least she could remember him like this. “You'll live for both of us.”

“Lucius, if you're convicted...” She kept her eyes away from his face. She didn't want to see the fear that could touch even Lucius Malfoy at the mention of the Kiss.

“You'll live,” he said again, this time in a strangled tone.

She buried her head against his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart as she let her imagination roam. She wondered what she would have to do to join him here. Surely it wouldn't take much: the wife of a Death Eater, the sister of Bellatrix Lestrange, the cousin of Sirius Black...It was almost expected. She could simply snap one day: arrive at the office of the Ministry of Magic all smiles, and then take out her wand...

Live.

She couldn't do that. Reluctantly, Narcissa began pulling herself together. Lucius's sacrifice wasn't worth anything if she let everything fall to ruin in spite of his efforts. She pulled away. Drawing a handkerchief from her pocket she began to dab away her tears.

“Draco went to the hospital.” She announced. Caught up in worries for Lucius, she had almost forgotten. She was glad to have something to relate- to have any news that might distract from the current predicament. She tried to keep her voice even as she spoke. “Ginny's still alive. That should help.”

Lucius nodded his head.

“Ginny had the baby.”

That garnered more interest, Lucius quirked a brow.

“I don't have any details. Her brother was babbling. It was some sort of spell- I can't believe that they took the risk- but I suppose they both survived. Draco's gone to her.”

Lucius nodded again. His lips twisted into an uneven line that was a frown and smile at the same time. “Another Malfoy. I'm glad that I got to know.”

Narcissa felt tears in her eyes again. Our first grandchild, she thought. It was as if the Dementors had already returned. Azkaban had already leached the joy out of what should have been a happy thought. She should have been thinking about toy shopping, and birthday parties, and Christmas mornings with a baby underfoot again, but all she could think about was the fact that Lucius wouldn't be there with her to join in the spoiling. She wanted a family, but she would never have more than the timeworn tapestry that used to hang in her Uncle Black's home in London: the tattered remains of something that had once been perfect, now full of holes and burns and scars.

“I don't want this, Narcissa.” She tried not to hear the fear in Lucius's voice.

“I know, Lucius.” She did, really, even if she didn't want to acknowledge it. Things had been easier when Draco only needed a bottle or a bath or an elf to take him walking in his pram, but they hadn't changed. “It's what we have to do.”

******************************************

Draco felt as if all the air had been squeezed from his lungs. He couldn't speak, couldn't breathe as he stared into the blanket and gawked at the sight before him.

The baby didn't have red hair or emerald eyes. The downy wisps atop its head were shimmering platinum, and the eyes, now wide-awake, were silver-gray.

“It's my baby.” Draco said at last, still feeling as if he was sputtering.

“Well, of course it is!” Ginny was grinning oddly. He was well aware that it wasn't a terribly couth pronouncement to make, but he couldn't stop himself. The shock was far too great.

“But how?” He asked, not seeing the guilty flush on Ginny's face, “I thought...” But then he let his voice trail off. It was finally starting to sink in. He was a father. He wasn't merely agreeing to participate in a charade. There was no cuckoo in his nest. He had a son.

A ridiculous grin spread across Draco's lips as his eyes, a mirror of the baby's own, peered once more into the blankets, this time with more pronounced interest. Ten fingers. Ten toes. The baby was tiny- in spite of the magic he was still exquisitely fragile and small. The spindly little arms were flailing without control, and Draco captured one, marveling as tiny fingers curled around his own.

An inexplicable feeling was spreading through his chest: heady pride, mingled with an enormous sense of responsibility. He felt like he was holding the future in his hands, and not just in the figurative sense. A series of scenes- memories not yet made- was unfolding before his eyes. He saw himself lifting his son onto his first broom, standing on the Platform for Hogwarts, a wedding...

You'll always be happy and safe. Draco made his son a silent vow. You'll never want for anything. You'll always have a father that you can respect.

He stopped, abruptly. A chill replaced the warmth that holding the baby had inspired. How could his son respect him when he was living a lie? He didn't know how it was possible, but somehow he'd been wrong. Ginny had borne his son. His own mindless jealousy had nearly cost her life, and his son's life as well - lives that his father would pay for.

He didn't want to lie to his child. He had finally made peace with the idea that Ginny might have had an affair by recognizing that it was no more than he deserved. Ginny was a good person. She ought to be happy. She ought to be with someone who could make his son proud.

“I'm sorry.” He said, handing the baby abruptly back to his mother. He was terrifyingly close to tears again, but this time it didn't matter.

“Sorry?” Ginny's features reflected confusion. “Draco, what are you talking about?”

“I'm sorry that I've already ruined this.”

“Ruined-?”

“I can't...I can't keep lying, Ginny...It's just like my father said.”

“Like your father said?” Ginny's nose wrinkled in disgust.

“He said I'd understand...and I do.”

“Understand what?” Ginny's frustration was growing. Even the baby had begun to fuss, unsettled by being dropped so abruptly from his father's arms.

“Why I have to do this.” Draco said. He reached for her hand, twining the fingers in his own. “Why I have to tell you the truth. It was me who caused the accident, Ginny.” She opened her mouth to interrupt, but he kept on speaking. “I...I was lying when I said that we couldn't have children. We could have. I didn't want to. I was so afraid of botching everything up...” his lips twisted into a wry grin, “With good reason, it would seem. I used a spell to keep you from getting pregnant, and then...when you were.” He swallowed. “I thought you were having an affair.”

“An affair?” Ginny's already pale complexion was now deathly white. The baby was crying full out now, but she only diverted enough attention to guide him back to her breast. “With who?”

“Harry Potter.” He admitted grudgingly, and then recoiled at the sudden storm of emotions that flashed across her face. “I found a letter...”

“About the game.” Ginny finished for him in a guilty whisper, knowing immediately which note he meant- the owl that she had received from Harry about the quidditch match.

“I didn't know what to think. I- I wasn't thinking.” Draco stood from the bed and paced to the window again. “I went to Knockturn Alley...”

“Draco, don't-”

“I went to find one of dad's old associates- well, I thought he was.”

“I don't want to know this!” Ginny's voice was pleading, but he made himself ignore it.

“You need to hear it Gin. You need to understand.” Draco leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the cold glass of the window.

“That you wanted to kill me?”

“No!” Draco spun around quickly. “Not you! Never you! I meant...I meant for him to hurt Harry.” He was shaking as the confession finally emerged. “I told you- I wasn't thinking. I just...I was crazy. I arranged for it to happen- but I changed my mind. I sent an owl out that night...the night you told me about the baby. But it didn't do any good.”

“Do you mean that someone is still trying to kill Harry Potter?” Ginny asked, horrified.

“No! I mean they already tried. The broom-”

“Was an accident.” Ginny said forcefully.

Draco was briefly stunned to silence. He was touched that she would defend him, even now. “No.” He said at length. “It wasn't. I didn't get the owl off in time, I guess. There was a mistake. I had told them not to hurt you- you know I'd never hurt you.”

“It was an accident.” Ginny said again, this time more quietly, as if she was trying to convince herself that the man she loved couldn't be capable of such depravity.

“Gin-”

“Haven't you been watching the news?”

“I-”

“Draco, it was an accident. They tested the entire shipment. They'd been sent out with faulty stabilizing charms.”

The baby's plaintive wail was the only sound in the room as Draco simply stared. He felt cold and faintly nauseous. “But- my father...when I confessed.”

“They thought it was something else.” Ginny informed him, her own face looking hollow and flattened by his confessions. “Ron flew off the handle when he first heard you. You were already at the prison when he got the news. But he said it was more than that. Ron was with your father when he found out that we were married. Ron said that he was mad enough to kill.”

“But my father-”

“Confessed!” Ginny said bitterly. “Do you honestly believe that he doesn't want me dead- me and his half-Weasley grandson?”

Draco bit his lip, fighting back the maelstrom of emotions churning in his chest. “Yes, I believe it.” He breathed at last. “You don't know him at all.”

“And you do?”

She probably hadn't meant it as a taunt, but it hit like one: a barbed, poisonous quill that pierced his heart. “He lied for me.” Draco blurted, finally confessing the last of his sins. “He told the guards at Azkaban that he'd put me under Imperius to try to kill you- because he knew that they would let him take the blame.”

Ginny had the grace to look stricken. She eyed her husband widely, “What are you going to do?”

*********************************************************************

Narcissa heard footsteps in the hall. There were two pairs this time, walking rapidly, and she assumed that her luck had run out. The guards had finally remembered that she was here, and were coming to drag her away.

Instinctively, she tightened her arms around Lucius's waist.

He brushed the top of her hair with his lips. He was so cool and collected! She wanted to scream! How could he sit by patiently and allow this to happen again?

Keys jangled in the lock, and she smoothed her hair. She tried shaking the wrinkles out of her dress, but it was no use. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had gotten out of her comfortable bed and put it on.

“Mum?”

It was the voice of her son, and not a guard that greeted her as the door swung open.

“Draco!” Lucius said sharply, “What are you doing here?”

“I can't let you do this, father.”

Lucius's eyes narrowed dangerously. “I already have.” He growled.

Narcissa looked between the men. “Draco, your father made his choice.”

“It was the wrong choice.” Draco insisted. He turned toward the guard that had accompanied him. The man nodded reluctantly, then slipped outside. “You shouldn't have confessed!” He hissed in a whisper. “Ginny's broom was an accident!”

Lucius and Narcissa stared in mute silence as Draco related what his wife had said: Ginny was alive. More to the point- no one had tried to kill her. It was nothing more sinister than blind chance.

“Oh, Dad,” Draco finished. He heard his mother's breath catch when he used the word. “It was all for nothing.”

“I wouldn't say that.” Lucius let his eyes say what his mouth wouldn't. Draco had come back. He was slightly redeemed in his son's eyes. That, at least, had meaning.

“I can't let you go back to prison for this!”

“You may not have to.” This time it was Narcissa's voice that interjected. “If Ginny's okay...” Her body stiffened with resolve. She had learned nothing over the past thirteen years if not how to manage a crisis. “Lucius, you have to tell me exactly what was said....”

*********************************************************

One Week Later...

“We call the case of the People and Citizens of Wizarding Britain versus Lucius Malfoy.”

Narcissa's eyes moved immediately to the dock where her husband was being led. She cringed inwardly at the sound of enchanted chains slithering around his wrists and ankles, shackling him in place. Beside her, Draco took her hand and squeezed it. She reciprocated the gesture, and then looked past her son to his wife. It was good of Ginny to come. She knew that the girl wouldn't want to be away from her newborn baby- and understood that she was hardly a fan of Lucius in any event. She also knew that her son and his wife had passed a rocky week. She wasn't privy to the details, but she understood it had to do with Draco's confession of his crimes.

Narcissa supposed she couldn't fault her daughter-in-law. She ought to have been shocked when she had learned of her own husband's dark side, but it was rather different. She was a Black. She'd never been far from the shadows. She'd found the revelation more thrilling than upsetting, but she could appreciate how a Weasley would feel differently. Nevertheless, the couple was committed to working things out. In spite of the pain and deception that had been doled out on both sides, they loved each other. They would find a way to make it work.

“The prisoner is informed that the charges against him are as follows…”

She tried to let the words roll over her, and to ignore the whispering in the galleries all around. Grand Jury proceedings were meant to be secret, but Lucius had waived confidentiality on the hearing. The public interest in the affair (“RELEASED DEATHEATER MALFOY PLOTS TO KILL AGAIN!” The Prophet had blared), meant that the hearing chamber was packed. She let her gaze roam over the crowd, picking out faces that she knew. Standing in the center of the assembled Wizengamut, Lucius was standing straight and proud. He hadn't been moved back to the general population of the prison yet, so the Dementors hadn't been able to sap his energy or strength. Narcissa was glad. He would need both of them today.

“How do you plead?” Narcissa looked forward again as the prosecutor spoke, then braced herself for the answer that she knew would come.

“Guilty.” Lucius answered calmly.

Instantly, the crowd was abuzz. This was the last thing that they had expected to hear!

The chair of the Wizengamut pounded his gavel furiously, trying to restore order. “What did you say, Mr. Malfoy?” The aged wizard asked again when things had quieted down.

“I said, `Guilty'” Lucius smoothly replied. There was a half-second of silence during which Narcissa didn't breathe. Her eyes were riveted forward, every fiber of her being tensed for his next move.

The members of the Wizengamut began to whisper among themselves. Then, Lucius added: “There's no sense continuing to lie about it now that I've already served my time.”

Once again, noise filled the vast room. Squeals of disbelief erupted all around them as the gavel came down again and again, “Order! Order I say!” The din had calmed, but not cleared when the elderly wizard asked, “What are you talking about Malfoy?”

“Why, Tom Riddle's diary of course.” The look on Lucius's face was pure innocence. His wife had never seen him so magnificent. “That's why we're here, of course?”

This time, there was silence instead of noise. The crowd- and the wizarding judges- didn't seem to know what to make of this odd, non-admission. The Lord Prosecutor recovered his wits first. “Are you implying, Mr. Malfoy, that your `confession' was meant to refer to the Chamber of Secrets incident more than fifteen years ago?”

“Of course.”

They were winning. Narcissa's heart was hammering wildly. This was going to work!

The courtroom was in an uproar again. Lucius, Narcissa, Draco and Ginny appeared to be the only parties who were completely calm.

“But Mr. Malfoy, you confessed…”

“To placing my son under Imperius, I know. He probably would have picked a fight with the Weasley boy anyhow, but I couldn't leave anything to chance.”

He was such an exquisite liar. Narcissa was faintly disturbed by how attractive she found the quality.

“But! But!” The prosecutor floundered. The look on his face was desolation: he had clearly wanted this so badly.

“Was there something else that you wanted to ask me about?” Lucius inquired silkily.

Narcissa felt her muscles tighten again. Lucius was taking a risk.

“Ronald Weasley, an Auror from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement testified that when you left his office from your probation appointment you were muttering under your breath about killing your daughter-in-law.”

“Actually, I think that I was muttering about killing my son.” Lucius corrected suavely. “In the figurative sense, of course.”

A nervous, twittering sort of laughter moved through the courtroom as the Lord Prosecutor, now red-faced and furious, persisted. “Married to the daughter of your biggest enemy, Arthur Weasley?”

Narcissa tensed. Lucius had never been able to hold his temper where Mr. Weasley was concerned. This was the most dangerous point of the testimony. “…who is the mother of my only grandson.” Lucius said with obvious pride.

“But-!”

“I wasn't aware that Mrs. Malfoy was pressing charges.” Lucius said in a concerned tone that sent the Prosecutor's face from red to deep maroon.

“Because of YOU! YOU threatened her!” The barrister had finally been pushed past his limit. “You've done something to her! You're just waiting for another chance…”

“Counselor!” The chief of the Wizengamut hammered his gavel down again.

“You're nothing but an evil, remorseless-”

“Counselor!” The elderly wizard in the center chair stood and pointed a finger. “That is enough! Another outburst like that and I'll have you removed from the courtroom.”

The men exchanged a glance. The Prosecutor looked as though he was willing to chance a murder indictment of his own, while the chief of the Wizengamut simply appeared resigned.

“Are there any more specific pieces of evidence that the prosecution wishes to relate to this court?”

“No, your honor.”

“Mr. Malfoy, do you have any witnesses to present on your own behalf?”

Mr. Jangle, Lucius's solicitor, stood and adjusted his wig. “The defense calls Mr. Draco Malfoy.”

A murmur ran through the crowd as Draco squeezed his mother's hand a final time, then rose from his chair to take the stand.

“Swear the witness.”

Narcissa shifted in her seat as Draco took the oath, then began his examination, beginning with the rather obvious: “How long have you known the prisoner?”, but rapidly leading to more interesting lines of questioning.

“Were you aware of any plots, by your father, to take the life of Miss Ginevra Weasley?”

“Mrs. Ginevra Malfoy.” Draco corrected, before answering, “And only the one.”

“The one?”

“The plot to give her Tom Riddle's diary. I was only a second year at Hogwart's then, and I wasn't informed. I only found out about it on the day before Ginny- er- Mrs. Malfoy was injured. My mother confirmed it to me while we were discussing my father's release.”

“And that is the plot that you were referring to in Miss- Mrs. Malfoy's hospital room?”

Narcissa twisted her fingers in her lap. Draco was a far less accomplished actor than his father. Nevertheless, he did his heritage proud. “Yes.” He answered easily. “When I saw Gin hurt- and knew that I hadn't been there for her- I was devastated. You know how it is when you are out of sorts. I wasn't thinking properly. I confessed to everything from cheating at quidditch to forgetting to Disapparate the trash.”

The twittering laughter resumed.

“Don't you think that your father wishes her harm?”

“No.”

“And why is that?”

“Because Ginny makes me happy.” Draco said, seeking his wife's eyes out of the crowd. Narcissa watched the look they shared. There was anger there, lingering suspicion, regret, but also love- love as strong as she and Lucius shared. She had learned what trials love could withstand. She knew that they were going to make it.

“She makes me happy.” Draco said again. “- and that's what Dad wants for me.” He looked at his hands, “It's what every father wants for his son.”

Silence reigned for a long moment, and then: “No further questions.” Jangle said in a low tone.

“Lord Prosecutor?”

He waived his hand to pass.

The judge nodded for Draco to return to his seat. “Then the prisoner may step down.” The old wizard nodded to the guards- humans instead of Dementors- who hurried forward and unfastened Lucius's chains to lead him to the holding cell. “The Court stands in recess to consider its verdict. We'll reconvene in one hour.” There was another echoing clack of the gavel, and then the justices began to disperse.

Narcissa remained in her chair. “Would you like something to drink, Mum?” Draco asked. Ginny had conjured a silver tea service and a plate of scones.

She shook her head, “No thank you, sweeting.” She couldn't eat. She could barely sit still. She wondered what Lucius was thinking. He had performed marvelously. No unbiased council would vote to indict- but she was forced to admit that the Wizengamut could hardly be expected to be unbiased. Lucius's reputation preceded him. Still- if there was no evidence…

She lost herself in thought. Before she expected it, the doors of the council chambers reopened, and the members of the Wizengamut filed back in.

“Return the prisoner to the stand.” The wizard instructed.

Once again, Lucius was chained in place.

The charges against him were read again, and then the wizard said, “Lucius Malfoy, you have heard the charges against you. Evidence has been presented on behalf of the wizarding population of Britain, and on your own behalf. You have entered a plea of guilty only to crimes of which you have been previously convicted. Is there any additional statement that you have to make?”

“None.” Jangle answered for him.

“Then the council will be polled. Each member shall vote to indict or not to indict. Any indictment that is returned will be tried in two months and will result in immediate revocation of parole. As regards charge one: conspiracy to commit murder, indict or not to indict, how do you find? ” He took a breath, then turned to the small, squashy witch at the very end of the semi-circular bench. “The Honorable Madame Greenbugg?”

This was it, the moment of truth. Narcissa held her son's hand so tightly that she might have crushed his bones.

“Not to indict.”

The word was like a pin, bursting the bubble of tension in Narcissa's chest. She barely heard the other wizards as relief washed over her in waves. “Not to indict…not to indict…not to indict” There were only two votes against him in the end. The charge of attempted murder itself was next, but Narcissa knew that the danger had passed.

The spectators were on their feet by the time the final vote was cast. “The Wizengamut has voted not to indict on all charges.” The chief wizard announced over the babble. “The prisoner is free to go.”

Narcissa leapt out of her chair and hurried forward. The guards hadn't even released the enchanted chains before she threw her arms around her husband's neck. She heard the popping of flashbulbs all around. No doubt her ebullient expression of relief would be splashed over the front of the Prophet the following day. She didn't care. All she cared about was that Lucius was safe. Draco was safe. The baby and Ginny were alive.

There was an odd warmth spreading in her chest. I'm happy. She thought. It had been so long that she barely remembered the sensation. She didn't trust the feeling- but she was determined to enjoy it while she could.

“Let's go home.” She whispered to her husband, twining her fingers in his.

Lucius brushed a kiss against her forehead. “Let's.”

They had a lot of making up to do.

A/N: There's only an Epilogue left! I hope that you enjoyed this. Thanks for your comments and support! If there's anything special that you HAVE to know and want to see in the Epilogue, let me know.