Hermione was wringing the hem of her shirt between her fingers nervously. She had just been called up to the witness stand and she could feel two sets of cold grey eyes boring into her. One set belonged to Lucius Malfoy who sat hunched over next to his defense in the front of the courtroom. The other belonged to Draco Malfoy who sat stoically beside his mother in the crowd. Draco's face was a mask of indifference but his eyes betrayed the hatred he felt as he stared at her openly. Mrs. Malfoy sat beside him, clutching his arm desperately as she had been all day. Her eyes were red and the skin around them swollen though she wasn't actively crying at the moment. Hermione quickly glanced away to the prosecution wizard pacing in front of her.

"Miss Granger, can you please recall for the court the last time that you saw the defendant?" the prosecution wizard had an aristocratic London accent and fine black velvet wizard's robes. He looked sympathetic when he was engaging Hermione but she had a not so sneaking suspicion that it was very artificial and his sympathetic act towards her was only for the benefit of the jury.

"It was during the Battle of Hogwarts, Sir," Hermione responded, doing her best to sound confident and unaffected. She trained her eyes resolutely on the wizard questioning her but she couldn't help but notice Draco's face in the crowd out of the corner of her eye. She felt something in her gut akin to guilt and she tried to squash it. She shouldn't feel guilty for testifying against Lucius Malfoy.

"And which side did the defendant fight for during the Battle of Hogwarts, Miss Granger?" the wizard questioned as he looked towards the crowd knowingly.

Hermione quickly glanced to Harry and Ron sitting in the front row of the crowd, they looked at her supportively. They both had just testified earlier that morning and both of their testimonies were pretty much in line with each other - Lucius Malfoy is death eater scum and deserves to rot in Azkaban. "He fought for Lord Voldemort, Sir."

The prosecution wizard continued down that line of questioning, asking her details of the final battle and pushing her for more information. It was all redundant and painful to rehash but she pressed on tirelessly through the questioning.

Finally he got around to asking her about her time in Malfoy Manor.

"It is to my understanding that you were apprehended by snatchers and taken to Malfoy Manor, the dark wizard Voldemort's lair during his rise to power, due to your association with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Is this correct?" There was some murmurs of discomfort amongst the crowd as he uttered the word 'Voldemort'. She was suddenly very aware of the scar on her right arm, she could almost imagine that the word 'mudblood' was set aflame.

"Yes, Sir," she confirmed.

"And during your time at Malfoy manor, Lucius Malfoy appeared to be doing the dark lord's bidding? He was attempting to identify Mr. Harry Potter to present to the dark lord?"

"Yes, Sir," she confirmed.

"Did Lucius Malfoy appear to exhibit any of the traditional signs of a wizard under the influence of the Imperius curse designed to force someone to do another's bidding unwillfully?"

"No, Sir."

"Do you have any reason to believe that Lucius Malfoy was acting outside of the realm of his own will?" he pressed her for more information.

She hesitated. Her silence was deafening in the crowded room as everyone waited for her response. Her eyes flicked to Harry and Ron and they looked a little puzzled.

"Yes, Sir," she said and her voice cracked ever so slightly, enough to make her cheeks turn red.

"Are you saying you think that Lucius Malfoy may have been coerced by Voldemort and was not his willing and loyal follower as all of the evidence suggests?" the prosecution wizard asked with an obvious air of incredulity. Murmurs spread throughout the crowd and Lucius Malfoy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had been spending his time in Azkaban while he awaited trial and his gaunt frame and sunken eyes reflected that.

"I am saying that his home was taken over by Voldemort and his family was in jeopardy, hanging in the balance certainly, if he chose to disobey or act against Voldemort. He may not have been in a sound state of mind," she replied defensively and shifted in her seat haughtily as if she were back in class at Hogwarts.

"Sound state of mind or no, he willingly took up Voldemort's cause knowing the consequences and was devoted to him until it was convenient for him to abandon him moments before the dark lord's death?"

She couldn't deny that and she said tersely, "Yes, Sir."

"That is all, Miss Granger, you may return to your seat," he dismissed her and with a flick of his wand the small door to the witness stand popped open and she hopped gracefully off her seat and returned to Harry and Ron's side. Ron reached out and squeezed her hand in what he thought was a comforting gesture but she shook him off without making eye contact. She felt Draco boring holes into the back of her head from four rows behind her.

...

"I hope you aren't feeling guilty about throwing that tosser into Azkaban, 'Mione?" Ron questioned through a mouth full of mashed potatoes as they all gathered around the kitchen table at the burrow later that evening. Mrs. Weasley had whipped up some quick food for them when they returned from London and she promptly disappeared quickly back into her bedroom. Most of the Weasley's had been keeping to themselves after the final battle, they were still in shock and grieving.

Hermione, who was pushing food around her plate distractedly, looked up at Ron with a withering glare. "Of course not, Ronald."

"Well you did, sort of… you know, defend his actions up there today," Harry said. He wasn't judgemental but his tone was curious.

"I was not defending his actions, Harry. I was under oath, I felt obliged to tell the truth. You can't say that Lucius wasn't feeling the pressure to protect Draco and Mrs. Malfoy. That coward would have disappeared into the nearest hidey hole when the dark lord moved his headquarters into Malfoy Manor if he didn't have his family to consider," she snapped back at Harry defensively.

Harry pushed his hair out of his face roughly and slumped over his dinner, they fell into a not uncomfortable silence but the space between the three of them seemed vast and painful.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, barely audible.

"You don't have to be sorry, Hermione," Harry said and he reached out and squeezed her shoulder tight. He pulled her in for a rough hug and she allowed herself a small smile as she wrapped her arms around her old friend's neck. Ron stood up, his chair scraping against the old wood flooring and Hermione heard his loud clumsy footsteps approaching. His freckled arms wrapped around both of them and Hermione leaned sideways into his chest.

"We've been through hell and come out the other side, we can't let this battle define the rest of our lives," Harry said to them in the most encouraging voice he could muster and she heard a deep rumbling laugh come from Ron's chest briefly.

"Yeah," Ron agreed bitterly. They were all still in so much pain it was hard to imagine not dwelling on everything that had happened.

They disentangled from their hug and Hermione suddenly felt cold and alone.