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I Surrender by rj_sunshine
Chapter 15 : Draco: Azkaban
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 3


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16th March 2000

MALFOY IMPRISONED: SON OF CONVICTED DEATH EATER QUESTIONED OVER WEASLEY DEATH

By Guinevere Appleton

As the Wizarding World mourns the death of Ronald Weasley, finally some Ministry action has been taken. Draco Malfoy, 19, son of convicted Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, has been detained in custody at the Ministry of Magic and will be under investigation for this tragic event. He will be questioned over his whereabouts and we will finally know whether he had any involvement, however minor, in Ronald’s death.

Ronald Weasley was found dead at the family home in Devon on the 7th of March and his funeral took place just yesterday, where family and friends gathered to show their respect.

Harry Potter had this to say: ‘Ron was my best friend, like a brother to me. I couldn’t have ever accomplished what I have without him … whatever happened to Ron, I will make it my mission to find out and I will find whoever did this.’

We can assume that Harry will be working with the Ministry; no word yet on Ronald’s distraught fiancée Hermione Granger.

Everyone at the Daily Prophet and the Ministry of Magic hopes that justice will be found and our thoughts and prayers go out to Ronald’s family.

R.I.P RONALD WEASLEY

01.03.1980 - 07.03.2000

 

   I folded over the newspaper and placed it back on the table in front of me. Opposite me, Blaise sat, dressed in light grey dress robes with his hands linked, looking over at me in thought.

“I’m done for,” I said straight away, running my hands through my dirty hair. “Why did you show me this, Blaise?”

“I thought you would be happy to see it.”
 
“Happy? Happy how?”

  Blaise unfolded it and pointed at the article. “There is absolutely nothing in there about you being guilty. And the worst thing that could happen is if the media get at you.”

“Well, there’s still no smile on my face.” I folded my arms and looked around the room that was familiar to me. I was in the Ministry of Magic again, in one of those tiny questioning rooms, only this time, the room was bright and there was a table and two chairs sitting in the middle while a security wizard waited outside the door.

“Now … to business …” Blaise opened up his briefcase and out came loads of papers.

  I raised my eyebrows. “How is it you’re allowed to represent me in court? You haven’t had Law Enforcement training.”
 
“Well, if you’d have asked, I would have told you that I have been training here in Law Enforcement for the past year since I passed the entry test after school finished.” He smiled over at me. “Also, nobody else wanted the job.”

“Great …”

“If I get this right, it’ll mean I’ll have a head start on the other students.”

“And if you get it wrong and we lose?”

He cleared his throat. “It’ll be an embarrassment, but not the end of the world.”

“Not to mention the fact that I get carted off to Azkaban … So how does this work?” I asked, as I leaned my elbows on the table.

“You haven’t been charged with anything yet, so I’m only here to tell you what happens when they question you. Now, when -”
 
“Why didn’t I get you when they questioned me for being a former Death Eater?” I asked.

That was part of the Project: Capture initiative, where most protocol was ignored,” he said sourly. “This is a murder investigation where your life and sanity is on the line if you go to Azkaban.”

“Right …” Already, I had a bad feeling about this, like somehow I was going there anyway …

“If you get charged they’ll hold your wand for further examination, but you don’t need to worry about that just yet. When they question you, it will be the basics, where you were, what you were doing etc. Just make sure you don’t tell them anything that will lead onto more questions, anything suspicious. You’ve got to be succinct, clear. If it’s a closed question, answer yes or no. If it’s open, keep it as short as possible, no more than five words.”
 
  Blaise was actually really good at this, but I wasn’t in the mood to congratulate him on how much of a success he was compared to me. In the back of my mind, I always thought that I would be the one who got the good job, not that I would be here on the wrong side of the law…

“So,” Blaise said with his quill poised and a page of parchment ready, “Where were you on the evening of the sixth of march and the morning of the seventh of march 2000?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“I need to know where you were and what you were doing so that I can help you once it’s over and if they charge you - which, hopefully, they won’t.”

“Okay …”
 
“So where were you?”

   I hesitated. Do I tell the truth? He is my best friend …

   He banged the desk to get my attention. “No hesitations! Jeez Draco, do you want to get caught unawares? They’ll assume you have something to hide.” I looked at him. Slowly, he repeated his question and I could just feel that he was aware of my discomfort.

“I was at home on the sixth of March.”

“Good,” he said as he wrote it down. “And the next morning?”

“I … erm - home, I think.”

“You think?” He looked exasperated.

“I was drunk that night.”

  “Oh excellent!” he raged sarcastically. “Just another reason for them to say you were dangerous. Under the influence of alcohol at the time of the murder … Add that to your intense hatred of Mr Weasley and you’ll go to Azkaban for sure!”

“Listen, I don’t have time for my best friend to make me feel like shit! I’m here for no goddamn reason and I -”

“Yeah?” he shouted back. “Then where did you get that bruise on your face?”

   My hand went up to my upper cheek where the faded red mark sat ugly and large on my pale skin. “I was in a fight,” I said vaguely.

“With who?” Blaise was playing the investigator, looking at me with mock interest, grasping his quill.

“Some wizard I came across …” I lied.

“Was it Ronald Weasley?”

“No.”
 
“Well, you didn’t have that bruise when I saw you at the party, Draco.”

“Yeah, which means it could have happened any time between then and now. A whole week has passed.”

“Yes it has. And by the look of the bruising, it is about a week old …”

“Fine, it was Weasley …” I admitted.

  Blaise did not look shocked or sympathetic.

“Don’t tell them that when they question you.” His face was plain and deadly seriously; right now, I knew he cared about me - something I would never expect from him even though we were best friends.
 
“You want me to lie?”

“I want you to not mention it,” he replied.
 
“What if they use Veritaserum?”

“They can’t use it until the trial,” he said smartly. “They need compelling evidence first, which they try to falsify at the trial with Veritaserum on a random trial date.”

“Comforting …” I mumbled.

“Do you think this is a joke?” Blaise asked me.

“No.”
 
“Really? Because I’m having a hard time believing you even care. You really need to shift that sarcastic attitude. You could go to Azkaban for the rest of your life, Draco. You’re only nineteen so that could be decades. Decades without companionship, a family, a life. Just the way Weasley was robbed of his … You should have seen Potter and Granger at the funeral yesterday …”

“You went to the funeral? How was Herm -?”

“Of course I did,” he snapped at me. “They looked terrible, Draco. Shattered. And I’m willing to bet that they think you did this. Granger especially …”

“G-Granger?” I asked, heart suddenly going up a pace.

“She’s his fiancée. Was. Plus, you bullied her most of all for being muggleborn in school and if that isn’t an added reason to make sure someone goes to prison, I don’t know what is. You have a reputation of being a bully and don’t think that they won’t find out about it.”

“That was years ago, Blaise. I’m different now.”
 
  He sighed. “I know that,” he said. I wasn’t entirely sure if he agreed though. “But where is the evidence? Have you been nice to anyone lately?”

   It was such a simple question, yet I couldn’t provide him with an answer without outing Hermione’s affair with me and that was the one thing that I knew I would keep secret - for her sake and not my own.

“Exactly,” Blaise said. “So, I’ll go over this again. Any time this week, they’ll summon you and question you with two Ministry members from Law Enforcement. Everything will be recorded.”
 
“So it’ll be similar to my last time?”

“Similar. If they have enough evidence, they’ll charge you. Just don’t lose your cool and you’ll be fine. I’ll be right beside you.”
 
“Right …” I said. “Don’t lose my cool …”


 
20th March 2000

DRACO MALFOY CHARGED WITH WEASLEY MURDER

By Guinevere Appleton

It has been confirmed by the Minister of Magic that Draco Malfoy, 19, former student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has been formally charged with committing the crime of murdering Ronald Weasley, 20.

Kingsley Shacklebolt told the public this morning at an open conference, “Mr Draco Malfoy has been charged with the illegal use of two Unforgivable Curses, both resulting in the death of Mr Ronald Weasley. He will be sent to Azkaban temporarily to await trial. Thank you.”

There is no word yet on the reaction to the news from Harry Potter or Hermione Granger, but if we use the public outrage to guess, we can assume that they are angry also. All four (Potter, Weasley, Granger and Malfoy) attended school together from 1991 - 1998 and it has been reported that Malfoy did not see eye to eye with Harry Potter and his friends.

The Wizarding World will have to wait and see how this will end and whether Draco Malfoy is as guilty as he seems.

R.I.P RONALD WEASLEY

01.03.1980 - 07.03.2000


 
“You lost your cool!” Blaise shouted at me as I shook with fright in my small cell in the Ministry of Magic. I had grown to like it here, especially when I thought about where I will be heading.

“They broke me down,” I whispered. “Blaise, please … I don’t know what to do anymore …”

  He sat down on the bed beside me and looked down at the ground mournfully. “I’m so sorry, Draco, but you have to go. You’ve got no choice.”

   I closed my eyes and one tear fell down my face. “I don’t belong in Azkaban … I’m innocent.”

“I know you are, mate.” Blaise placed one arm over my shoulder, but I didn’t want his sympathy so I moved away.

“How long will I be in there?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” I stared at him, worried. “Usually up to three months until the first trial date. I’ll visit you, I swear.”

“What good will that do me when the dementors are there to make my life hell …?”

“I promise I’ll make sure you don’t get a life sentence.”
 
“You say that as though you can’t guarantee I’ll be freed. I won’t settle with a few years, Blaise! I shouldn’t be there!”

“I know.” Blaise looked at the wizard at the door who peered in briefly. “Calm down. They’ll come for you later today and I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

   Nodding, I tried not to think of Azkaban, but with every breath I took and every second that passed, the closer I would be to that dreadful place. I could handle the other inmates, but not the guards. Anything, but them …

“Do you know how you’ll plead?” Blaise questioned quietly. “Guilty or Not Guilty?”

   I shrugged. “What are my options?”

“Guilty means you probably won’t get life if that’s the verdict. Not Guilty, you’ll be free if they think you are innocent.”
 
“And if not?” I knew the answer and shook my head sadly. I would seriously have to think about this. Half of the community think I’m guilty already …

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Blaise asked before he left.

“Can you get me my mother?” I asked. Blaise hesitated. “I didn’t think so.”
 
  It was funny, at a time like this, all a guy could ever want is a hug from someone he loved. I wanted my mother right here right now and seeing as that was never going to happen, I sank into a lonely stupor sitting in the corner of the room, realising that my life was officially over.

 
   They came in the night. It must have been about two in the morning. The sun had been down for a few hours yet there was no sign of it reappearing. I was taken out of the building, clad in chains, by four wizards, the kind that I remembered, all in black cloaks. This time, they were hooded, their identities hidden - I had the feeling that this was because of the dementors and not me.

    Once they were able, I was Apparated to an icy, cold somewhere. Without warning, the crash of the wind fell against me as I stood shivering and bound in chains.

   In stinging silence, they put me in a boat and sat around me. All I could make out was the light from their wands and the stars in the sky until the fog cleared and a rocky island ahead of me revealed itself. As the waves crashed over me and my hair got wet, I began to pray. I don’t know who to, but I hoped, somehow, that I would survive this. My body shook with an intense fear as the boat finally stopped after what seemed like hours.

  But it wasn’t long enough.

 Not nearly long enough.

  I needed more time.

   I wasn’t ready.

   The rocks were wet and slimy as we stepped onto the jagged shore. It was cold, colder than I could ever imagine. I literally felt as though I was standing in an icebox. My jaw seemed frozen and I could not speak as my body vibrated jaggedly.

  I was shoved forwards and we soon approached the entrance. Well, it looked like a solid rock, but after three of the Ministry members muttered a spell or two, we walked through easily to more slimy rocks and damp.

   I could feel them. Boy, could I feel them …

   My insides hurt and my mind suddenly scrambled. I didn’t know what I was doing here … and unexpectedly, bad memories crept into my head …


“I’m here. You can leave and never ever come back and I won’t expect you to. But you could stay. Stay with me.”

“You are something to me. But Harry and Ron are something more …”

 

“… Mother? Where have you been?”

“Nowhere.”

“Nowhere? You’ve been gone for over a year and you come back all of a sudden and tell me nothing? I thought something had happened to you. Something bad …”

 

“… I admit it: I cheated on Ron and it was wrong. Why else do you think I want nothing more to do with you? You remind me of what a horrible person I am. I love Ron and I’m going to spend the rest of life with him. I don’t need you here. I don’t want you here. I never want to see you again.”

“Hermione …”
 
“Go …”


“No … no …” I muttered. Already, they were getting to me. Memories of my past came faster the closer we got to the cells.


  I was six, peering around the corner into the drawing room where my mother and father were arguing about something. Back then, I didn’t understand, all I knew was that I hated him.

“ … can’t have my son mixing with mudbloods! I won’t allow it!”

  My mother rolled her eyes and stood beside him. “Madame Montgomery was just watching Draco while I went out. Only a few hours. She’s a friend of mine and she’s not a mudblood!”
 
“Her children practically are.”

“Their father is a halfblood!” she yelled with vigour.

“I don’t care!” My father boomed. He faced her and put down his glass of wine.

“I suppose you don’t care that your precious Dark Lord was a half-blood, the kind of person you’re supposedly supposed to hate and scorn. You, Lucius Malfoy, are a hypocrite!”

  The back of his hand, flew up to her cheek, a lightening crack, her body flying backwards onto the rug before the fire.

  I ran into the room yelling at the top of my voice ‘No!’ while my father tried to help her up, his eyes wet and confused. I flung my tiny body over hers, to protect her.

“Narcissa, I’m sorry,” he muttered pathetically. “Please, forgive me …”

“It’s fine,” she said, shaking. “You’ve had a lot of wine …”

   He tried to touch her again.

“Go away!!” I yelled at him.

“Draco, move!” he retorted.

“GO AWAY!!” Crying, I grasped onto my mother, while he grabbed my arms and pulled. I held on tight, clutching her black robes. There was confusion; she kept telling him to stop grabbing me so tight, that he would hurt me, to leave me alone, while he yelled that it was none of my business, that I was supposed to be in bed.

   I screamed. He pulled. My arms felt tight within his grasp. My mother’s dress tore. She held onto my middle. He yanked my arm and I fell backwards, hitting my head on the stone floor …

 My mother screamed.


   I was checked in and then given my clothes to change into. My chains were left off from this point because there was no way that I was leaving this place now.

   Shaking, I stood for my photo. I looked forward, turned left, centre again and then right with my prison identification number on a placard in my hands. I could just see it in the Daily Prophet already …

   After this, and still in silence, I was taken to my new home. The cell was the farthest on that corridor. The bars all faced outwards towards the windows on the opposite side of the corridor; there were no windows in the cells. The three walls were all some kind of concrete, probably secure and reinforced by complex magic. Inside, there was a small bed, pillow and blanket, and in the corner a toilet. That was it.

   The dementors weren’t there when the Ministry members led me in. They were probably going to come later when they were gone. I was shoved inside and locked away.

   No one said a word. I assumed I would be fed and given a drink at intervals in the day and be taken to shower by the few wizard wardens the prison employed.

   Sitting alone in my cell, wearing my striped outfit and ignoring the terrified and maniacal mutters of the convicts around me, I held my knees to my chest and cried my eyes out. I was scared and afraid.

   No matter how much I loved Hermione, the only person I wanted right now was my mother.



 

A/N: Readers, plese bear with me. I am getting there. Soon we will be back at the same point as chapter one. Hopefully I'm going at a good pace. Please review below x


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