144 95

The courtroom exploded. Not quite literally, but the noises that came from the benches that lined the room were surely loud enough to be heard in the atrium several floors above. Kathryn kept her face straight and stoic; knowing that all eyes were trained upon her. Even Lucius was looking earnestly up at her in search of some reaction. Not meeting his eyes, she instead looked towards Fudge as if expecting some kind of further explanation.

"Order! Order!" Fudge cried over the din in an attempt to restore calm. However, it was only after he issued a series of loud bangs from his wand that the room settled down.

"As I was saying," he continued, clearing his throat, "the Wizengamot has no alternative but to find you guilty. As everyone in the courtroom is well aware, the penalty for being a Death Eater is life imprisonment. In this instance, however, the Wizengamot has had many other factors to consider that some might consider to be somewhat mitigating." There was a flurry of whispering around the room at the mention of mitigating factors and Kathryn was hardly shocked when most eyes flicked towards her. Despite the buoying effect of the words, she made no motion to indicate that she even dared to hope. For all she knew, 'mitigating factors' might mean little more than a fifty year sentence instead of life.

"Therefore, it is the majority decision of the court," Fudge sounded rather put out when he said this, making it clear that he was not in the majority, "to suspend the sentence." Kathryn's heart skipped a whole series of beats and she resisted the temptation to pinch herself just to check that she wasn't dreaming. The rest of the courtroom was making their surprise much more noticeable. People were muttering, gesticulating wildly and generally gazing agog at Fudge as if they too were wondering if they had nodded off. Lucius looked similarly astounded, but instead of staring at Fudge, he was staring at Kathryn; waiting for some sign, however small, of how she was taking this news.

He was not to be rewarded, however, as Kathryn kept her face straight and impassive. Whilst inside her heart was fit to burst with excitement, she did not dare to believe it was real until Fudge had further elaborated, for she did not put further trickery past Fudge.

"This decision," Fudge continued, clearing his throat loudly in the hope that the courtroom would calm down, "has been made with Mr Malfoy's actions at the Battle of Hogwarts taken into account." He sounded like he was reading from a script and Kathryn would have bet anything that this was not the judgement he wished to deliver. "The Wizengamot cannot fail to recognise that Mr. Malfoy's decision to lie was one that turned the tide against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"You're damn right it was." Kathryn murmured under her breath.

"Also taking into consideration the various testimonies given to this court, the Wizengamot has decided that the risk posed to the community by Mr. Malfoy is minimal and his continued incarceration in Azkaban would be a waste of public resources that could be put to better use."

"Just give me the damn conditions!" Kathryn muttered, knowing that there had to be a catch somewhere.

"Of course, this decision does come with certain provisos." Fudge continued, looking down at a roll of parchment that Kathryn presumed to be a rather thorough list. "Your activities and movements will be monitored by the Auror Office, as will your correspondence. All overseas travel must be approved, in advance, by the Ministry and the relevant magical authority in the country to which you intend to travel. You will also be expected to aid the Auror Office in their search for Death Eaters who have not yet been apprehended."

"Surely there must be more?" Kathryn said under her breath, narrowing her eyes suspiciously as Fudge paused.

"Should any of these conditions not be met, or should you try to circumvent them in anyway, you will be removed to Azkaban to serve a sentence of the Wizengamot's choosing. This penalty also applies if you are found to be consorting with any of the Dark Lord's followers. The Auror Office reserves the right to search your home at any time if they suspect any violation of these conditions. These sanctions will be regularly reviewed by the Wizengamot to determine their efficacy and required duration."

Kathryn actually found herself quite pleasantly surprised, as she had been sure that house arrest would figure somewhere in that list. If anything, she knew that Fudge must have been reined in by his fellow members of the court as, from what he had previously indicated; there was no room for leniency in his mind.

"Mr. Malfoy, do you accept these conditions?" Fudge asked Lucius directly.

"I do." Lucius answered without hesitation.

"And what guarantee do you offer the Wizengamot that you will conform to the terms I have laid out?"

"You have my guarantee," Kathryn spoke up fiercely, shooting out of her seat, "and that should be assurance enough."

"Very well." Fudge shuffled his papers together. "Mr. Malfoy, you are free to go." With a wave of his wand, the chains that bound Lucius to the chair disappeared and he got to his feet. No one is the room moved an inch, all of them waiting to see what happened next. She knew that they would expect her to run so, although every fibre of her being wanted to, she resisted. Taking a deep breath, she walked slowly and surely down the steps from her seat to the courtroom floor. The click of her heels echoed off the forbidding stone walls as she walked towards Lucius, her heart pounding with excitement.

"Well," he said quietly once she was stood before him, "that was unexpected."

"Definitely," she cracked a small smile, "I was sure I'd be going home alone."

"Sorry to spoil your plans." He smiled wryly.

"I'm sure I'll cope." She drawled. "And, well," she held his cane out to him; "I suppose you should have this back."

"Thank you." A flashbulb popped in the dim light of the courtroom as this symbolic gesture took place. "For everything."

"Thank me later." She smirked. "Now, I think we've both spent enough time in this room, don't you?" she was aware of people starting to move towards the doors. She knew people would want to watch them leave; to witness what was sure to go down as an historic moment.

He did not presume to take her arm as they walked towards the doors; he knew from experience that appearance was of key importance at such times. He was sure that, over the past months that she had spent fighting for him, she had been obliged to refute accusations that she was only doing so only at his request. No, he did not want to make any move that would make it appear that he was the one in charge. Instead he walked at her side, matching her confident stride as the crowd parted for them.

"So, any particular requests for your first day of freedom?" she asked, an eyebrow raised as they walked up the stairs to the lifts, ignoring the shouted questions from people around them.

"To be honest, I hadn't considered it." He shrugged as they stepped into the one waiting lift.

"Well, it's not as if you have to do something special." She said as the lift door rattled shut. "Feel free to be completely tedious!"

"To be honest, to no longer have to hide will be enough." He explained, taking her hand gently in his.

"Well, I think a certain amount of hiding might be prudent," she frowned slightly, "after all, people are going to take some time to get used to the verdict. I would advise treading carefully for a while at least."

"I didn't mean quite that kind of hiding."

"I know," she chuckled impishly, "I was just teasing. I know exactly what you mean." She gave his hand a slight squeeze, shifting closer to him as the floor indicator needle in the elevator crept towards the Atrium. "So stop hiding."

Needing no encouragement, he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her even closer, pleased that he could still make her cheeks flush. Their lips met just as the grille slid back to reveal their embrace to the waiting photographers but, despite the blinding flashes, they were not deterred. When he finally pulled away she had a very satisfied smile on her face and a mischievous gleam in her eye.

"Home it is then!" she laughed, not letting go of his hand as they advanced into the crowd. Again they simply ignored the shouted questions and flashes as pictures were taken "I sent the car away so we can just Disapparate."

"Let's go then." In one slick movement he pulled her close to him before twisting sharply on the spot and disappearing with a pop.

"Well, I think it's safe to say that we've made the Prophet's front page tomorrow." She said as they reappeared in the Manor's Entrance Hall. "With any luck it will be the last one for a while." She sighed, setting down her bag and slipping her feet out of her shoes.

"I doubt it," he shook his head, slipping his jacket off, "not while Rita Skeeter can still hold a quill. But for now," with a smirk, he pulled her to him, practically lifting her off the ground, "for now, the world beyond these walls can go hang for all I care. I have all I need right here."

"What did I tell you about being too soppy?" she mock-scolded as he set her down again. "It will lessen my triumph somewhat if you turn out to be a great big sap."

"So you don't want me to worship you every waking moment?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh worship the very ground I walk on if you must," she sighed, "but at least do so in a dignified manner."

"Well, that's the thing; the ground isn't that much fun to worship." Before she knew it, she was up in his arms. "You, on the other hand, are far more diverting. Even if you are a terrible tease."

"Well, when you put it that way." Smirking, she kissed him languidly as he carried her upstairs.

"Somehow I doubt we will have many visitors coming to offer their congratulations."

"I should hope not," she smirked as he set her down again, "and as for those who might wish to, they know that their congratulations can wait until tomorrow."

"What, did you warn them?" he laughed, leading her out onto the balcony where a bottle of champagne sat waiting in an ice bucket.

"No," she shook her head, "but I doubt they could consider disturbing us. Though I'm beginning to doubt your surprise at the verdict." She indicated the champagne.

"I merely left a note for the elves with instructions if I was to return with you," he explained, pouring two glasses of the golden liquid, "it was just on the off chance I would be lucky."

"Much as I would like to confess to having made similar plans," she sighed, flopping down on a chaise lounge and accepting the glass he offered, "I'm afraid I didn't dare tempt fate. I feel that I might be slightly overdrawn on that account."

"We probably both are." He sat down next to her, sliding an arm around her waist. "But we, well," he corrected himself, "you did it."

"Well, at least I know I have made one person happy." She smiled, kissing him gently.

"Two, if you count me." He smirked.

"Two then." She smirked back, draining her glass of champagne. "And that will do for now."

"Yes it will, as I plan to occupy you for some time." Slowly, one by one, he undid the small buttons that ran down the back of her dress; exposing the soft skin of her back to the afternoon sun. She wasn't wearing a bra, the dress tight enough not to need one. His lips swiftly followed the path his hands had taken, the dress sliding further down her arms.

"It's a good thing you don't live in suburbia!" she laughed as he pulled her down to lie with him. "To think what the neighbours would say."

"I'm sure they would be fiercely jealous." He murmured in her ear as her hands deftly removed his shirt.

"Jealous or not, I'm not sure I'd enjoy an audience."

"Well I'll certainly let you know if I see anyone." He smirked, stifling any further comment with a kiss.

The rest of the day was spent in various stages of undress, neither of them seeing any need to move any further than his bed. Fuelled by champagne they talked, ate, slept and made love as if nothing existed beyond the walls of his room. Time passed and the sky darkened, but it was only when neither could keep their eyes open that they succumbed to sleep.

It was well after noon the next day when she finally awoke. Several bottles of Champagne were strewn about the room in various stages of emptiness. Her clothes were similarly scattered, not that she'd been wearing that many layers. Tiptoeing to the wardrobe, she pulled on some underwear and a dressing gown before heading downstairs in search of a cup of tea. She knew that she could simply summon an elf to fetch it for her, but her weary muscles were in need of a stretch.

Perching on one of the kitchen benches, she sipped her tea and took a look at the morning paper. As she had expected, she and Lucius graced the front page; a picture of them striding out through the Atrium beneath a big headline simply reading 'FREE'. She didn't really bother to read what they had written in full; simply skim-reading to get the general gist of things. There were some commentators suggesting that the judgement was somewhat fair given his switch of allegiance. On the other hand, of course, Rita Skeeter was the polar opposite of that and was heavily critical of the Wizengamot's decision. There was also a small article pondering on her potential future now that this matter was settled. Laughing to herself, Kathryn decided that they probably had more idea than she did at that point. There were a few more photos interspersed through the various articles; the one taken when she handed back Lucius' cane was featured quite prominently.

Setting the paper aside, she took a bite of the toasted teacake that had been set beside her, and then turned to the pile of post that was addressed to her. The house elves always put Lucius' post on his desk but she had asked that the leave anything addressed to her in the kitchen. The post always lived in the kitchen at the Burrow, and at Grimmauld Place, so she wasn't about to break that habit. Contrary to what her friends might think, she didn't have breakfast served to her in the fine dining room every day. Mostly, if she had nowhere pressing to be, she sat in the kitchen and read the paper and her post as she ate. The house elves had been initially disconcerted by behaviour so uncharacteristic of the usual occupants of the house, but they soon adjusted.

There was a short note from Dumbledore congratulating her on an excellent defence and expressing a hope that she would now get some well-deserved peace. Another was from Harry, letting her know that a few people were going to pop by that afternoon. The other letters, all addressed in unfamiliar hands, all came in enveloped bearing the names of various publications. The Daily Prophet, the Quibbler and Witch Weekly were there, along with a few others. All of them contained polite requests for interviews in the wake of the verdict. All of them were thrown on the fire. She was certain Lucius would have the exact same offers, but she was equally sure that his reaction would be the same. No doubt the requests would continue to arrive in the hope that she would eventually capitulate. She would just have to hope that they got the message sooner rather than later. Tucking the paper under her arm, she picked up a mug of coffee for Lucius and another plate before heading back upstairs.

Slipping back through the bedroom door, she found Lucius awake and looking blearily at the clock.

"Morning," she said with a smile, "well, afternoon I suppose!" she finished with a laugh.

"How long have you been up?" he asked, levering himself up to sit against the headboard.

"Not long," she shrugged, "I didn't want to wake you. But here's some coffee," she handed the mug, "and I thought you might like this." She handed him the plate, upon which was sat a rather delicious looking bacon sandwich.

"You're a goddess."

"Well it is a well-known fact that bacon is quite the restorative after an indulgent night!" she laughed, handing him the Prophet.

"Do I really want to read that?" he nodded at the newspaper.

"I've just glanced over it really, there's nothing in that I didn't expect to see. I had quite a stack of post from the Prophet, Witch Weekly and the like, all of them wanting interviews. I threw them on the fire."

"Probably the best decision."

"I've no doubt you've got some too."

"Well they'll be going in the same place."

"Harry sent a note saying a few of them are coming over this afternoon. Probably around three."

"How many is a few?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know," she shrugged, "I've asked the house elves to do some sandwiches and scones and things. Afternoon tea really, but maybe with a splash of Champagne."

"Sounds about right."

"Well, I didn't exactly give them a chance to celebrate with me yesterday."

"True, I did monopolise you slightly."

"But for now," she burrowed back into the covers, "I might just have a little bit more sleep."

The rest of the afternoon passed quite pleasantly. They sat out in the sunshine eating and drinking Champagne and, to be very honest, Kathryn found it all rather odd. After all the time she had spent fighting, it was somewhat unsettling to be done with it all.

"I still can't believe it." Hermione commented later as the five of them sat alone in the garden, once everyone else had left.

"Neither can I," Kathryn shook her head, "I was so ready for a guilty verdict."

"We all were." Ginny admitted as the other three nodded their heads.

"Well, technically he was found guilty." Harry pointed out.

"True," Kathryn nodded, "it's not like he was cleared of all charges."

"Admitting he was a Death Eater pretty much killed that chance." Ron added.

"I certainly didn't think I'd be sitting here drinking Champagne, that's for sure." Kathryn snorted, finishing her glass and topping it up. "I haven't had any hate-mail yet but I'm sure the letters will come, or the howlers. I'm sure there are plenty of people who are rather angry about what happened."

"So what are you going to do now?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Yeah," Harry sounded similarly curious, "I assume you're not just going to lounge around here being Lady of the Manor?"

"To be honest," Kathryn sighed, "I have no idea."

"Surely there must be something you want to do?" Hermione asked encouragingly.

"Well, there's nothing in particular I can name," Kathryn shrugged, "I mean, I know I'm not exactly lacking in talents!"

"What about teaching?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah!" Ron was apparently quite enthused by that idea. "You'd be the best Defence against the Dark Arts teacher Hogwarts could ask for!"

"I'm not sure people would be happy with me teaching their children!" Kathryn laughed, despite knowing that it was a painful truth. "Besides, I think it would be wrong for me to cause more controversy there, not when things are just about getting back to normal."

"What about the Ministry then?" this time it was Harry who made the suggestion. "You've obviously gotten to know quite a few people there, so why not use that to your advantage?"

"Hah!" Kathryn scoffed. "As if I'd have a chance with Fudge at the helm." Kathryn shook her head. "Besides, they'd never take me seriously now."

"You can't think like that!" Hermione scolded slightly. "You deserve to be given a chance just as much as any of us."

"I might deserve that, Hermione, but I somehow doubt it will make a difference. Who would take a job application from me seriously when they know the wealth I have access to?"

"I'd like to think that the Ministry wouldn't be so biased."

"I know it's not technically mine, but they have seen what he has given me without my even asking, so I think it has been made quite clear that there is nothing that Lucius would deny me. Anyway, I somehow doubt Fudge would want me within a mile of the building, let alone in it."

"Well, you never know when things are going to change." Harry smiled, trying to cheer her up. "Fudge might not last much longer anyway; you've given him quite a beating!"

"For now I think I will be happy with a bit of rest!" Kathryn laughed. "I thought when we'd won life would be more relaxed but so far I've seen little evidence of that. Not that I've exactly made it easy for myself of course!"

"Well, if you ever fancy Quidditch we're always game." Ron pointed out, Harry and Ginny nodding along with this suggestion. "I mean, you've got the space!"

"You're welcome anytime Ron," Kathryn smiled, "as is everyone else. Maybe I'll build a pitch."

"What about Lucius?" Hermione asked. "What does he plan to do now that he's been freed?"

"We haven't talked about it," Kathryn shrugged, fiddling with her glass, "I assume just go back to whatever he used to do, minus the being a Death Eater part."

"What did he do before?" Ron asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

"I have absolutely no idea!" Kathryn laughed. "Though I assume the whole being generally influential thing might have taken a bit of a hit."

"Probably," Harry nodded in agreement, "I doubt there will be many social invitations for a good while."

"No, it's going to be a slow rehabilitation I think." Kathryn nodded. "Though this morning we each had several offers of interview opportunities."

"You didn't accept any, did you?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Oh heavens no, they just went in the fire, but I'm sure that they will continue to arrive."

And arrive they did. Every morning both Kathryn and Lucius had four or five letters each requesting interviews. After a week or so, those writing the letters seemed to think it was a good idea to try and enhance their offers. The editors seemed to have dropped all pretence of journalistic integrity and were effusive in their flattery as well as sneaking in as many influential Ministry names as they could manage.

"As if they think we could be won over by flattery?" Kathryn scoffed at breakfast one morning, throwing another letter onto the fire. "And name dropping people from the Wizengamot is just insulting. Do they think we would be stupid enough to risk the potential consequences of something like that?"

"Apparently so." Lucius drawled as he sipped his coffee. "I can't see them carrying on with this for much longer. It will soon be just the occasional letter on the off chance we might have changed our minds." There was a muffled screech from the direction of the kitchen.

"That must be another howler." She sighed, buttering another slice of toast. "That's four this morning. The poor house elves will be deaf before long."

"Well don't you dare think of listening to any of them." He gave her a stern glance. "No good will come of that."

"I know." She sighed.