Courtroom Wins and Family Grins

Olivia Montgomery's POV

Date – 23rd JuneName – Narcissa Malfoy

Case No. – M08951

We're all waiting for the judge to arrive, and even though I've done this before, my palms are still a little sweaty. Mrs. Malfoy—is already seated in the chair. Calm as ever. Honestly, she looks like she's here for afternoon tea, not a trial. But that's the thing about her—she always looks so composed, even when the world is burning around her.

Draco sits beside Lucius in the audience. He gives me a small, reassuring nod. I return it with one of my own, then glance at Narcissa. She gives me a faint, regal smile. She's calm because she knows she's not guilty. And because, well, she didn't do much. Not in the way they're trying to frame it.

The courtroom doors creak open. Jack Moore, Head of the Department of Mysteries, walks in and takes his place. He bangs the gavel three times. Showtime.

"Trial as of 23rd June into the crimes committed by Narcissa Malfoy," he reads from the parchment in front of him. "Interrogator – Jack Moore, Head of the Department of Mysteries."

There's no prosecutor this time, which says a lot. Her case is too straightforward. No one wanted to waste the Ministry's budget on arguing a lost cause.

Moore continues, "The charges against the accused are as follows—being a Death Eater and aiding in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries and the Battle of Hogwarts." He lifts his eyes from the parchment and looks at her. "Do you deny these charges?"

Narcissa turns to me for a brief moment. I nod once. She lifts her chin.

"No, Your Honor."

He gestures to me. "Proceed, Miss Montgomery." I rise and take a breath, grounding myself before I speak.

"I ask that my client be cleared of all charges, for the following reasons," I begin, holding the gaze of the Wizengamot.

"Firstly, she knew who my mother was—and she knew who my father was. Still, she chose to hide that truth from Voldemort, even from her own husband and son. If she were truly a loyal Death Eater, she would've handed me over. She didn't."

I walk toward the center of the courtroom and hand my first batch of documents to the officer, who passes them to Moore.

"Secondly, Narcissa Malfoy helped me more times than I can count. Including the time I was kidnapped and held captive at Malfoy Manor. She could've ignored my pleas for help, but she didn't. She brought me food, potions, and even slipped me my wand."

My voice softens just slightly as I say, "Third, and maybe most importantly—she lied to the Dark Lord. She told him Harry Potter was dead when he wasn't. She looked him in the eyes and lied. That moment turned the tide of the war."

There's a quiet murmur in the courtroom. I let it sit before continuing.

"Everything Narcissa Malfoy has done, she's done out of love—for her family, for her son. Even at the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, when I was cornered by Fenrir Greyback, she stepped in and shot a spell at him that saved my life."

I turn to look at her. She meets my gaze and gives me a small nod. I smile. "In every moment that mattered, she chose humanity over hate."

I step back, my case made.

Jack Moore clears his throat. "Witches and Wizards of the Wizengamot, with the evidence in front of you, I give you fifteen minutes to come to a decision."

The courtroom goes still. No one speaks. I sit back down, Draco's eyes locked on mine. He mouths, You did great. Fifteen minutes pass.

"Those in favor of conviction?" Moore asks.

Not a single hand is raised. As expected.

"And those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?" Every hand goes up. Moore doesn't even blink.

"Cleared of all charges," he announces, banging the gavel once.

I exhale a breath I didn't know I was holding and turn to Narcissa. She stands gracefully, and before I can say anything, she reaches for my hand.

"Thank you, Olivia," she says softly, her voice full of emotion for the first time all morning.

"Anytime, Mrs. Malfoy," I reply with a warm smile.

From the corner of my eye, I see Draco beam.

Another win. Another truth brought to light.

~~

Date – 9th July Name – Lucius Malfoy Case No. – M08641

This is the case I've been dreading. Not because I didn't want to take it—of course not. It's Lucius Malfoy. But because deep down, I'm terrified I don't have enough to get him cleared. I've stayed up every night for the past week, turning every shred of parchment upside down, looking for something I can use. And still... my stomach is in knots.

The gavel bangs three times, and the courtroom falls silent.

"Trial as of 9th July into the crimes committed by Lucius Malfoy," announces the judge, Christian Cox, Head of the Auror Office. "Interrogator – Christian Cox. Prosecutor – Eli Roth."

He looks up from the parchment and smiles. "Can I just say, it is an honor to have you, Miss Montgomery, in my court." I flash my brightest, most innocent grin. "My pleasure, Your Honor. It's an honor to be assigned to a judge like you."

Butter him up, Olivia. We need this.

He chuckles, clearly flattered. One point for us.

He clears his throat. "The charges against the accused are as follows—being a Death Eater and participating in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries and Battle of Hogwarts, escaping from Azkaban, and opening the Chamber of Secrets."

He looks at Lucius. "Do you deny these charges?"

Lucius glances at me. I nod. "No, Your Honor," he says calmly. The judge gestures toward me. "Proceed, Miss Montgomery."

Here we go.

I rise from my seat and speak slowly, making sure every word lands clearly.

"There is no denying that my client did what he's accused of. He accepts it. But let's take a look at why he did it." I start to walk slowly toward the center of the courtroom, glancing at the faces of the Wizengamot as I go.

"Lucius Malfoy is a family man. His actions, no matter how misguided, were driven by fear and love for his family. That fear—the kind that comes from serving a man like Voldemort—is not an excuse, but it is context. He believed that doing what the Dark Lord asked of him would keep his wife and son safe."

The prosecutor, Eli Roth, rises. "Objection, Your Honor."

"On what grounds?" the judge asks. "Er, fear is not a justifiable—"

"Overruled," Judge Cox interrupts, clearly uninterested in her interruption.

I try not to grin. "Fear of the Dark Lord, when your entire family's safety hangs in the balance, is a reason, Miss Roth," I say sweetly. She rolls her eyes. That's fine. I just need the Wizengamot to be listening.

"Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," I add, giving her a cheeky smile, "I was present at the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. I saw the fear in Lucius Malfoy's eyes when the prophecy shattered in front of him. He wasn't drunk on power. He was panicked."

I pause for a beat.

"After Harry Potter was thought to be dead in the Forbidden Forest, Lucius begged Voldemort to let him search for his son. Voldemort denied him. He wouldn't even allow a father to look for his only child. And that broke something in my client."

I hand over a few documents to the court officer.

"And finally, when the final battle took place at Hogwarts, Lucius Malfoy did not fight for Voldemort. He turned on the Death Eaters." I sit down with a deep exhale, watching the whispers start to stir among the panel.

Hours pass. The floor opens to others, and arguments fly back and forth. I defend him at every turn, but I can feel it slipping. The vote's coming.

"All in favor of conviction?" the judge asks.

Almost half the hands go up.

I bite the inside of my cheek and lower my eyes. I feel Draco's stare on me from across the room.

"All in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?"

The remaining half raise their hands.

It's a tie. Dead even.

No. No, no, no. Not after all this.

Before the judge can speak, I shoot up from my seat. "We'd like to propose something." Judge Cox raises an eyebrow. "What is it, Miss Montgomery?" I turn to Lucius. I raise a brow—Do you trust me? He nods without hesitation.

I step forward.

"My client is prepared to name every Death Eater who fled the battle after Harry Potter returned. He will turn over every known name, every location, every lead he has. And more than that—he's willing to offer Malfoy Manor as a secret base of operations for the Auror Office."

Gasps ripple through the courtroom.

"If any remaining Death Eater enters that area, they'll be caught in seconds. We will enchant the property and make it one of the most secure hubs the Ministry has seen." I walk slowly up to the judge's bench.

"But..." I pause for effect. "We'll only do this... if my client is cleared of all charges."

The judge leans back in his chair. I can tell he's impressed.

They huddle. Whisper. Scribble. After what feels like an eternity, the gavel comes down.

"Well played, Miss Montgomery," Judge Cox says, smiling. "Cleared of all charges."

I close my eyes in relief.

Lucius turns to me and says in a low voice, "You really are a force of nature, Miss Montgomery."

I grin. "Don't I know it."

~~

"You were amazing, sweetheart," Narcissa says warmly, sitting next to Lucius as we all eat lunch at the Manor.

I glance up from my plate, cheeks heating. "Oh, it was nothing. I knew Mr. Malfoy's case was going to be the hardest." I hesitate for a second and then blurt out, "I—I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, that you have to offer your house like that—"

"It's alright," he cuts in calmly, swirling his wine. "Whatever keeps me out of Azkaban."

I nod, unsure how to respond to that. I mean... fair.

We fall into an easy rhythm of small talk—well, as easy as it can be with Draco's hand resting comfortably on my thigh under the table, occasionally squeezing like he's reminding himself I'm really here.

After a bit, I turn to Lucius and say, "Mr. Malfoy, can I ask you something?" He raises a brow and nods. I glance at Draco, who instantly tenses beside me, his grip tightening. His eyebrows furrow like he's silently asking, What exactly are you about to ask my father?

I take a breath. "Are you okay with me? I mean... No matter how much I want to deny, but his blood runs through me. Your captor, your- our worst nightmare. I'm a half-blood. That doesn't exactly line up with your—well, your previous beliefs."

There's a pause. Lucius sets down his fork and looks around the table for a moment, then meets my gaze.

"To be honest..." he begins, "I wouldn't have minded if Draco had dated a pureblood." Draco's grip immediately tightens again, and I wince, barely resisting the urge to elbow him under the table.

"But," Lucius continues quickly, glancing at Narcissa, "I've wasted too many years not prioritizing what matters—my family. My wife. My son. You make Draco happy. That's what should matter. And it seems he loves you."

My heart does a little flip.

"I mean, your mother was a pureblood Slytherin, so..." He trails off and gently takes Narcissa's hand. "I'm happy."

My smile widens instinctively. I turn to Draco, who looks like someone just hexed him into silence. His eyes are wide, almost comically so, staring at his father like he's grown a second head.

I nudge him lightly with my knee, and he snaps out of it. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," I say sincerely. Draco finally speaks, "Yes, Father. This is... unbelievable." Lucius chuckles. "Call me Lucius." I shake my head gently. "I don't mean to disagree but—"

"She finds the concept odd," Narcissa chimes in, smiling. "Of calling someone her parents' age by their first name." I give her a grateful look. "Exactly."

Lucius hums and grins. "Very sophisticated. Makes me wonder how you ended up with Draco. You could've done a lot better."

The table erupts in laughter—except for Draco, who mumbles something about betrayal and family honor into his mashed potatoes.

After lunch, I help clear the table while Lucius and Narcissa head to the living room. I'm in the kitchen, sipping water, when two familiar hands wrap around my waist from behind.

"You did wonderful, darling," Draco murmurs, voice all soft and velvet, for the hundredth time today. I turn around and press a kiss to his lips. "Thank you again, Draco."

"Mmm," he says into the kiss, pulling me closer. I giggle.

"Come on," I whisper. "Let's go sit with your parents before they start planning our honeymoon without us."

We head to the living room and sit on the velvet couch, still slightly warm from the summer sun beaming through the Manor's tall windows. "So, Draco tells me you want to work at the Ministry," Lucius says, turning to me.

I nod. "Yeah, well, after I graduate, I'd like to take up a job at the Ministry—like you. It wouldn't be too hard to get in since—"

"No!" Narcissa blurts, almost dropping her teacup. We all turn to her in surprise. Even Draco looks confused.

"After graduation," she says, very matter-of-factly, "as you and Draco are already engaged, you're going to get married and give me plenty of grandkids." Draco turns the exact color of a cherry tomato. "Mother!"

Lucius and I both burst into laughter, while Draco dramatically puts his head in his hands.

"That engagement was just for show, okay?" Draco groans. "We agreed it was more like a pre-engagement. We'd get married at the right time, not just—randomly like that!"

I purse my lips to suppress a smile as Narcissa looks expectantly at me.

We end up talking for hours. Tea is poured, biscuits are passed, and I start to realize how... normal this feels. The infamous Malfoys, now just a slightly dramatic, secretly soft family. I almost forget who they used to be. Or maybe I'm seeing who they really are, without the influence of a noseless, bald, evil overlord haunting their house like a cursed portrait.

Yeah.

Turns out, without a Dark Lord lurking in your sitting room, people can actually be... nice.

Draco Malfoy's POV

Olivia is absolutely knackered after five rounds of—well, let's just say I deserve a medal. Or a chocolate frog. Or both. She skips dinner entirely, mumbling something about her legs not working, and promptly collapses in bed.

So here I am, sitting alone at the dining table with a bloody hickey on my neck the size of a Quaffle. I shake my head, trying to suppress a grin, but it stretches across my face anyway.

"Where's Olivia, dear?" my mother asks sweetly as she lifts her fork. I scratch the back of my neck awkwardly. "Er... she was tired, so she's resting. I hope that's alright."

They both share a look, and I know exactly what that look means. Subtlety is dead in this house.

My mother raises an eyebrow and gestures discreetly to her neck.

"Oh, like you never did," I groan, leaning back in my chair dramatically.

That gets them going. Both of them laugh, and it's weirdly wholesome. Like... we're a normal family or something. The Malfoys—happy. Who would've thought?

After dinner, I head back upstairs. Olivia's still curled up in bed, breathing softly. I don't want to wake her, so I grab a book and sit beside her, flipping through pages for a couple of hours. I even reread the same chapter twice because I keep glancing at her sleeping face like a lovesick idiot.

Eventually, I decide I need water. I make my way to the kitchen, pour a glass from the jug, and take a slow sip while staring out the window. The night sky is ridiculous tonight—stars glitter like someone spilled sugar on obsidian, and the full moon is smugly floating in the sky like it knows it's pretty.

Olivia would love this.

I turn around, and the glass slips from my hand, shattering on the floor.

Because she's there.

Right in front of me.

Bleeding.

Blood pools around her like ink spreading on parchment. Her skin is pale. Too pale. Her eyes are closed. I can't breathe. My legs give out. "No, no, no," I gasp, crawling toward her through the shards of glass. My palms and knees are screaming, but I don't care. I reach her, pulling her into my arms.

"Olivia—O-Olivia, please," I whisper, tears streaming down my face. "What happened? You were just in bed, you were—" Then a voice, sharp and echoing.

"Riddikulus."

Olivia's body twists and vanishes into a puff of smoke—and suddenly, the only thing in my arms is a tiny spider, which scuttles away under a cabinet.

I blink through the blur of tears.

"Draco?" a voice calls softly.

I turn, heart still hammering—and she's there.

Olivia.

The real her.

Alive.

"OLIVIA!" I cry out and throw my arms around her, holding her like she might disappear again. She hugs me back, warm and alive and real. "You were... Draco, it was just a boggart." I pull away, my voice breaking. "A b-boggart?"

She nods, stroking my back gently. "Yes. Remember? Aurors started patrolling your grounds today. I reckon one of them brought their fears along for the ride."

I look down at my hands and knees. They're bleeding from the glass.

"Come on," she says, brushing hair out of my eyes, "Let's get you cleaned up. And I'm going to have a very strong word with the Auror in charge."

We head back to my room. She treats my wounds—efficient, gentle, and annoyingly good at everything—and starts to stand, but I grab her wrist. "No..." She pauses, then sits back down. "I'll be back in a bit—"

"Then I'm coming with you."

She raises an eyebrow but doesn't argue. She knows there's no way I'm letting her out of my sight after that.

We walk downstairs together, my hand on the small of her back the entire time. Protective, yes. Clingy, maybe. Do I care? Not remotely.

She pushes open the Manor's side door and spots the patrolling Auror. "Mr. Nick," she calls out, voice calm but edged with fire. He turns. "Miss Montgomery? Is there a problem?" He spots the bandages on my arms and does a double take.

Olivia folds her arms. "I thought the boggarts were supposed to stay on the grounds."

"They are."

"Then why," she says, her tone now sharp and almost smug, "did I find one in the kitchen?"

She raises a single brow like she's the queen of all magical beings—which, let's be honest, she is.

Nick looks like he might pass out.

Honestly, I almost feel bad for the guy.

Almost.