The Wizengamot Is Out For Blood—never Mind The Fact They'd All Pretty Much Lain Down And Let Voldemort

The Wizengamot is out for blood—never mind the fact they'd all pretty much lain down and let Voldemort take over the Ministry only months before. There are rumours gathering speed, snowballing, with speculation splashed across every front page: the youngest Death Eater and heir to one of Britain's oldest wizarding families, Draco Malfoy, is facing life in Azkaban.

Harry gatecrashes the trial.

"This isn't the future we fought for," he yells in their old, papery faces. He points a furious hand at the lone, pale figure, shaking in the stands. "This isn't the future I fucking died for!"

And surely, he thinks, surely that should be enough.

But the court is adjourned. Harry almost refuses to leave, but then Malfoy is taken away, his eyes—wild, sunken, panicked—meeting Harry's across the room one last time before he's forced out of sight. Harry is politely warned by the on-duty aurors not to disrupt court proceedings again.

Well, fuck them, he thinks angrily. That's one letter of offer he'll be tearing to shreds.

Next he goes to the Prophet. The young clerk takes one open-mouthed look at Harry and immediately sends him up to the editor-in-chief.

The following morning, a new headline blazes down Diagon Alley: CHOSEN ONE CALLS FOR CLEMENCY.

Two long weeks of sleepless nights later, the verdict is announced. When the courtroom doors open, Harry is waiting. Malfoy stares at him.

"I hear you're looking for a place to stay."

His assets are seized, his parents are exiled, but Draco Malfoy is a free man.

He wets his lips. "Looks like it."

"Here," Harry says, tossing him the invisibility cloak; the press are absolutely rabid outside. Malfoy catches it. "I've got a spare room."

Future 🏛️ Day 15 of @peachydreamxx and @uncannycerulean’s prompts. Full collection on ao3.