The Scent Of Malice | drarry

forty six | the trial

Draco consented to the testing surprisingly quickly ("I told you he couldn't say no to me," Harry smiled smugly) but on the morning of the trial Mallory came to Harry with urgent look in his eyes.

"Potter, we've not got the samples back from the lab yet," he said. "They're due to arrive with the medical expert as evidence today - we won't get to see them first!"

"Fuck!" Harry swore, scuffing his foot into the ground. "They wouldn't even Owl you a report?"

Mallory shook his head. "Top secret information, apparently. They don't send that stuff by Owl. It's infuriating."

"Beyond infuriating," Harry glared, and let out a loud, aggravated sigh. "OK, well, we'll just have to do the best with what we've got. I'll be a good character reference, you be a good lawyer, hopefully we have nothing to worry about."

"Hopefully," Mallory smiled wryly. He was really getting to like this Potter kid. He had spark. He'd make a good lawyer himself one day if he chose to follow that path.

"Come on, then," he said, slapping an encouraging hand on Harry's back. "It's time."

***

The trial lasted hours.

New witnesses came and went; there were classmates of Harry's testifying either with stories of Draco's bullying or of his rare kinder acts, there were servants of the Manor, a couple of Professors, Draco's godparents, and then finally it was Harry's chance to speak.

A hush fell over the courtroom as he rose: everyone recognised him instantly. He'd made sure to act as a caricature of himself with big thick-lensed glasses and his black messy hair pushed back in just the right place to reveal his scar.

And Draco had been right, Harry was a symbol of the side of the Light. Who better to represent Draco Lucius Malfoy than Harry James Potter, defeater of Voldemort, the Boy Who Lived, the furthest from a Death Eater one could possibly get?

He cleared his throat awkwardly and leant on the banister in front of him for support. He could feel the barrister's eyes boring into the back of him, but harsher still was Draco's gaze from his position on the right hand side of his lawyer.

Don't fuck this up for me, Harry could practically hear him thinking. Or even, don't embarrass me. Don't make me vulnerable.

I have to make you vulnerable, he mentally responded. Or they're going to assume you're a terrorist. I have to make you look as broken as you've been in my arms.

"Could you please state your name for the court?" said the Judge in a booming, oppressive voice.

"Harry James Potter," Harry said, willing his own voice not to tremble.

"And what is your relationship to the defendant?"

Harry swallowed. This was a hard one. "He's my friend," he said at last. "I'm in love with him, but he's my friend."

The collective gasp in the room wasn't stifled quickly enough by the jury and the onlookers, and Harry felt a brief flash of embarrassment before it died down as quickly as it came. This is good for the case, he reminded himself of Mallory's words. Anything to humanise Draco.

"I see," mused the Judge. "And how long have you known the defendant?"

"Since we were 11," Harry responded. "We met in our first year of Hogwarts."

"And what have you to say on the matter of Mr. Malfoy's charges, Mr. Potter?"

Harry swallowed again. He knew Draco was hating every second of this. "Draco Malfoy is the most extraordinary person I have ever met in my entire life," he said honestly. "I have seen more kindness and affection from him in the past year than ever from my own family-"