Chapter Four

A/N: Thank you to Beth5572, delia cerrano and Guest for reviewing the last chapter.

As would have been easy to imagine, the British Ministry of Magic was a hive of activity exceeding any other in the world at that moment, as every witch and wizard worked tirelessly to pick the pieces left behind by Lord Voldemort's war. And yet, as the Malfoys stepped foot into the Atrium, those witches and wizards took moments from their busy days to glare at them with disdain. It was not a surprise to any of them, except perhaps Draco; he had been too young to expect how harsh people could be.

"Keep together." Narcissa whispered, as she saw a set of guards heading in their direction. There was far more to her words than the day's events, and Draco clutched tighter to his mother's hand. For a second, she looked up at Lucius. He did not look back at her.

No sooner had the guards reached them than they were pulled apart, Narcissa and Draco each led in one direction and Lucius, restrained at wandpoint by three burly men, in the other. The man kept his eyes trained on Draco, making sure the single guard did not harm his son. He never looked over at Narcissa.

The woman pondered that fact, once she was left alone in an empty room that looked as if it had been half-decorated but never finished. She supposed they must be running low on holding cells, given that half of the Dark Lord's army had been captured or called for after the battle. She was clearly not important enough for high levels of security. Lucius surely was.

"Why is this happening?" she sighed, her voice quiet even to her own ears. Anyone listening in might have thought she was talking about the war, or Voldemort's downfall, but those matters could not be further from her mind.

She had seen it the moment he stepped in the door, the strange way that Lucius seemed to stand around her. Ever since they were Hogwarts students together, his head had tilted the tiniest bit towards her, as if her love was a crutch for him to support himself on. After the battle, he stood ramrod straight and turned his face away. And still Narcissa had no idea of what she had done to cause it.

'Why should it have been you?' the blonde chastised herself. 'After all that Lucius has done to this family, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You fought to claw your family out of the mess that he created, and yet you are being tried as if you bore the Dark Mark on your own arm. Draco was coerced into the inner circle, you were barely an accomplice. Lucius deserves whatever is coming to him.'

A shiver ran down her spine. If the words had not been spoken inside her own head, Narcissa would never have believed they were her own. Even after the First Wizarding War, the first round of trials, she had never wished for anything other than for their life to return to the way it had been before. Now was the first time she had wondered; did she truly want that life back?

She was given no time to think any longer on it, as the door to the holding cell swung open. Narcissa expected to see a stern-faced man in a suit- only the Pureblood wizards seemed to wear wizards' robes at the Ministry, and such a wizard would never be allowed to try someone so close to the Dark Lord. When she instead was faced with Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister for Magic himself, she had to fight not to allow her jaw to drop.

"Mrs. Malfoy." The man greeted her smoothly, as if she were an acquaintance rather than a wanted criminal. Narcissa only nodded in response, not trusting herself to speak. "I trust you received our letter. You know why you're being held here."

"With the greatest respect, Minister, I would not have needed a letter to know why I was being held here." The woman's voice was quiet, as close to defeated as she would ever allow it to become. "My home was the Dark Lord's headquarters during the war, and my husband and I were responsible for keeping his prisoners. We stood by his side as he marched his army on Hogwarts, and we did nothing to stop him when he killed countless, including Harry Potter himself. I don't think I've missed anything."

"You will not be charged as a Death Eater." Shacklebolt stated. Narcissa blinked, confused. "I think it's important that you know that. You did not bear the Dark Mark during either of the Wizarding Wars, and I won't allow this to become a witch hunt, if you'll pardon the Muggle turn of phrase. However, you did comply with the Dark Lord's instructions willingly, at least for a time, and helped him gain strategic advantages that almost cost us the war. That cannot be ignored."

"I wouldn't expect it to be." For such a terrible situation to be placed in, Narcissa was struck by how fair it all seemed. She had done wrong, so she would be punished. Such an idealistic view of the world. The Minister nodded his head solemnly, and turned his back to leave the room, having said all it seemed he needed to. It was only the sight of his retreating back that brought the strength back to her voice. "Minister!"

"Mrs. Malfoy." Shacklebolt managed to hide the tinge of irritation beneath his voice well. He was clearly a more accomplished politician that the blonde had given him credit for. He stood tall in front of her, waiting for her to speak again, and did not even blink when she stood from her chair and crossed the room to him.

"My son." she stated, then paused. How could she possibly phrase the desperation that clawed at her heart, seemed to rip her very being limb from limb? "He is going to be charged as a Death Eater because he bore the Dark Mark, but it's not right. He didn't have a choice, the Dark Lord was holding me hostage to his agreement. He didn't want any of this…"

"Mrs. Malfoy, I assure you that we are in possession of all the facts in regard to each individual case." The words seemed as though they had been pulled from a script, so clunky and mechanical that Narcissa's heart skipped a beat in despair. But the compassion that seemed to radiate from his eyes as he continued to speak offered a glimmer of hope. "This is a court of law, and all those involved in the Dark Lord's army shall be tried for their crimes. And only for their crimes."

She wanted so desperately to thank him for his reassurances, but by the time her lips had parted, the Minister had left the room, the door swinging shut and lock rattling by the time they closed again. And so she was left alone with nothing but her fears and hopes for company. By morning, her family's fate would be decided. And yet even the Minister's reassurances could not calm the fear brewing in her stomach, knowing that the winning side would be the ones to decide it.

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to update this, writer's block and long shifts at work have not been my friends here! I quite enjoyed writing Kingsley here, because I get the impression he's much more reasonable than many of the others at the Ministry will be; doesn't bode well, really. Still, I hope you enjoyed and please review!