66

Without a further word the Wizengamot stood and exited through the doors on either side of their benches. She waited for everyone to disperse, waving Harry away as he beckoned her to follow. He understood and left. She only moved when there was no one left in the courtroom apart from her, Lucius and the Aurors guarding him.

Winking at him, she stayed on her raised pedestal and, quite nimbly, climbed over the gap that separated where she stood from the Wizengamot benches. She gave a sharp knock on one of the doors before entering.

"Sorry," she apologised with a smile as she breezed into the room where the members of the Wizengamot were sat drinking tea and coffee in comfortable armchairs, "but I presumed that you'd have coffee in here." Ignoring their shocked faces, she poured two steaming cups of the rich smelling black liquid and headed back out the door, leaving twelve stunned faces in her wake.

Lucius couldn't believe his eyes when she emerged with two cups and jumped back over the gap without even spilling a drop.

"How do you do that?" he asked as she walked over, a satisfied smirk playing across her face.

"Typical Gryffindor brashness!" she replied with a grin before fixing Scrimgeour with a stern look.

"What?" he asked harshly, trying to ensure that he had the upper hand.

"Let him go so he can have his coffee and give us some privacy without leaving the room." She ordered.

"I cannot." He hissed.

"Oh please," she drawled, "where are we going to go?"

With a sigh, Scrimgeour waved his wand and released Lucius of his bonds. Shaking his head, he motioned for the rest of the Aurors to follow him as he walked to the far end of the room. Stretching out his arms, Lucius took the steaming cup and drank half of it in one go.

"That's good coffee." He commented as he felt something shoot through him.

"It had better be with a bit of my favourite potion added." She said with a smirk, sipping her drink.

"That was fast, I didn't even see you do it."

"Do what?" she asked with raised eyebrows, eventually laughing.

"You're doing well." He told her after a few moments.

"Well, I'd say one of the worst bits is about to come." She sighed, sinking down onto his lap. He knew that she was referring to their slight disagreement over the half term.

"Well you're giving as good as you get, which is just fun to watch."

"It's not particularly fun to stand there though."

"I know." He pressed his lips to hers and held her tight as they sat there.

"I dread Skeeter's big report in tomorrow's Prophet." She whispered. "And I assume that Fudge wants me to wrap this up today so he can try to tear my testimony to shreds tomorrow. Won't that be a delight?" She added dryly, her fingers fiddling with one of the buttons on his jacket.

"He can't discredit the truth."

"He will try." She replied bitterly, trying not to look at the clock that was showing them that their half an hour was almost up. "Past experience has shown that memories can be altered; that things can be changed if they are undesirable."

"It was interesting to hear about your heritage." He commented. "I'm glad my books have been of some use."

"Yes, well, I was just bored one Sunday afternoon." She said with a small smile. "But all of my ancestors on my father's side have been Pureblood and it reaches all the way back through the Peverell line to Gryffindor himself."

"My, I do have impeccable taste." He replied with a smirk. "You're far too beautiful to be from an ordinary family."

"For all my ancestry I might as well be Pureblood." She said thoughtfully. "But my Muggle relatives are nothing to boast about." She sighed. "To be honest they probably think that Harry and I are dead, hell, they probably hope that we are."

"How humane of them."

"I did say that they were nothing to boast about." She laughed. "I always wondered how they'd react if I showed up on their doorstep with you."

"We'll have to try it sometime." He shrugged.

"So long as you're not confined to squalid cell, yes." She said with a wan smile. "Of course I could always bust you out."

"It's never been done."

"There's a first time for everything." The courtroom doors opened and people began to file back in. Scrimgeour and his Aurors appeared in her peripheral vision and she knew it was time to go. Standing up, she gave him a fleeting kiss and made to walk away. At least, that was until his hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him. Standing up, he held her close and kissed her quite properly. There were several gasps from people who were entering and, eventually, she felt him being tugged away by the Aurors. She had to resist the temptation to seriously curse Scrimgeour as the shining chains once again bound him tightly to the chair.

Glaring imperiously at Scrimgeour and the other Aurors, making some of the more battle hardened amongst them quiver slightly, she stalked off. Harry witnessed this silent exchange and, although it appeared to be nothing more than two people staring each other down, he was sure that the Aurors had not missed the way her hand tightened around the top of the cane in a very covert, yet overt, threat. Harry would have liked to say that she walked away but there was no way that he could call that walking. She swept away in a way that he was sure would make Lucius Malfoy proud.

The Wizengamot began to file back in and a hush fell over the courtroom once again, many people on tenterhooks to hear what happened next.

"Right," for some reason Fudge looked, in Harry's eyes, as if he'd had a shock during the break but the vague smirk that was on Kathryn's face told him that she'd probably had something to do with it, "let's continue."

The man that resumed where the white haired woman had left off looked quite eccentric. He had brown, slicked back hair that was greying slightly at the temples, a thin face and a monocle dangling from a chain that had been threaded through a buttonhole of his robes.

"Now, Miss Potter," he had what she supposed would be considered a proper, stereotypical English gentleman's accent apart from the fact that he spoke with a constant drawl which began to grate on her as soon as he spoke, "from what you have told us, the next time you saw Lucius Malfoy was in the summer half term."

"That is correct." It appeared that her mood had been soured quite considerably by Scrimgeour's actions and it showed in her tone of voice.

"How, might I ask, did you manage to disappear unnoticed this time?"

"The sale of my foster parents' house had gone through and I was required to sign some papers. I simply went to Paris and told them that it would take a few days to finalise the details."

"Couldn't the papers have been owled to you?"

"I'm sure they could've been, yes, but I had certain plans that necessitated a few days absence."

"And those plans were?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, despite the fact that he already knew the answer.

"I had an open invitation to Malfoy Manor and I was most certainly going to use it."

"But your visit did not go as expected?" she could tell that he was going to draw this part out.

"No. Not long after I had arrived and changed into something, er, more appropriate for the situation, Professor Snape chose to arrive." She explained as delicately as she could.

"And you hid?"

"Yes. Whilst he and Lucius attended to their business I waited upstairs."

"For how long?"

"Two hours." She shrugged.

"And what happened afterwards?"

"I watched Professor Snape walk away, and I know for a fact that he saw me because he informed the Order that Lucius Malfoy had a new toy, so to speak."

"Did Mr Malfoy say anything about what he and Professor Snape had discussed?"

"No, but I was quite hasty and spoke my mind."

"About what?" there was absolute silence as they waited for her to explain.

"About what I thought of him and the other Death Eaters."

"What did you think?"

"Well, I believe the word 'pathetic' was used copiously." She said, trying to cast her mind back to an event she would rather forget. "I also remember using the phrase 'grovelling on the floor to kiss the robes of such a poor excuse for a man'."

"Not such wise words to use before a Death Eater." The wizard commented, peering at her through his monocle.

"I didn't know he was in the room." She shot back. "I thought he was still downstairs otherwise I would have said nothing."

"But you continued?"

"I was on a roll. The fact that I kept saying 'Voldemort' seemed to annoy him." She remembered how he had flown into a rage. "I also seem to remember mocking Voldemort." She couldn't believe it when a collective shudder ran round the room. "Oh please," she snapped, "it's just a name!"

"Please continue Miss Potter."

"Anyway, I was just laughing at the whole concept of it and then I turned around." Her voice faded away as she remembered the look in his eyes.

"What did you see?"

"Well, let's just say that I have never seen anyone that angry. Needless to say I stopped talking but by then it was too late."

"You crossed some unspoken line I take it?"

"I'd say that the line was far, far behind me by that point."

"What did he do?"

"He shouted at me," she said quietly, "and then I received a very hard backhand to the face."

"He hit you?"

"Yes."

"Could we just see that please?" his question this time was directed at Percy Weasley who jumped to his feet and pulled a small vial out of his robes. With a wave of his wand, the giant pensieve rose out of the floor and he tipped her memory into it.

"Is that really necessary?" she asked, not really wanting anyone else to see her memory.

"I think it is required to stress the severity of Mr Malfoy's actions towards you." Prodding it for a few moments, Percy eventually found the right part and the figures of she and Lucius rose out of the slivery pool. The entire courtroom watched in horror as his hand connected with her face at an alarming speed and she was sent flying into a corner. Percy froze the memory on an image of her terrified face where you could just see the purplish imprint of the snake that had been left on her cheek by his ring.

"What did you do after this?" he asked. "Because, from what we see here, he looked prepared to severely beat you."

"I think he realised what he had done." She said quietly, her hand unconsciously drifting to her cheek. "Because he stopped, but I ran as fast as my feet could go."

"Where did you run?"

"As far away as I could get without leaving the house. I got some ice from the kitchen and then went outside to get some fresh air."

"Did he come after you?"

"Of course," she replied, "I don't think he could believe what he'd done. He tried to apologise and he looked at my cheek."

"What damage had you sustained?"

"Well, my lip had popped, my cheek was substantially bruised and an imprint from his ring was in the middle of the bruising. I had a snake shaped bruise in the middle of my cheek. I didn't let him get his words out; I ran again and got changed." She explained. "He tried to get me to stay but I apparated straight back home."

"How did you explain your injuries to your brother and friends?"

"I didn't, well; I hid the worst from them and sorted that out myself. When there was only a little bit of bruising I let them into my room and just said that I'd walked into a door."

"And they accepted that excuse?"

"Did they have any reason to think anything else?"

"So, in light of these events," he summed up, "I take it that you were most unwilling to go near Mr Malfoy?"

"Indeed," she nodded, "I hadn't felt that afraid since the week he had first captured me."

"So," he picked up what looked like a newspaper clipping, "why is it that a photo of yourself and Mr Malfoy graced the front page of the Daily Prophet a mere five days later?"

"On the Monday morning after that incident," she explained, "I received a letter that had been sealed with the Malfoy crest."

"What were its contents?"

"It was a ticket to the Quidditch World Cup Final that was being held in Australia," she explained, "there was a small card with it that had times and locations of various Portkeys."

"Was there no note considering the person who had sent it?"

"No, but the card quivered when I touched it so, when I went to pack, a simple spell revealed the hidden message."

"And that was?"

"Just one word," she replied, "please."

"No long apology?"

"No, but the one word hit me harder than a long spiel about how sorry he was. It was as if he couldn't write anything more than that."

"This must have been quite a dilemma for you," he commented, "considering the severity of what had happened."

"It was very hard." She nodded. "Although it didn't take me long to make my mind up. I packed and apparated straight to Wiltshire."

"Why?" he asked in amazement. "Why did you return to something you had wanted to escape for so long?"

"Because I didn't want to escape anymore." She said quietly. "That's not to say that I was pleasant to him at all," she continued, "I was quite rude, dressed scruffily and didn't speak to him at all during the day and I ignored him completely all the way through dinner."

"How did he look?"

"He looked quite drawn actually," she told the room, casting her mind back, "as if he hadn't been sleeping properly."

"Did you feel sorry for him?"

"Not at first," she shook her head, "but I followed him after he stormed off at dinner and he looked, just, well, wretched."

"So how did that make you feel?"

"I pitied him, and I missed him," she confessed, "it was odd to be there with him and to have barely spoken."

"What did you do to remedy this?" he questioned. "How could you even bear to be near him after what he had done?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "despite what he had done to me I wanted to forgive him because there was no way he wasn't sorry."

"What did you do?" He pressed the question.

"I kissed him." She said quietly. "I kissed him. I reacquainted myself with him. He didn't do anything at first, he let me lead."

"So you made up?"

"In a sense, yes." She nodded. "We had make up sex if that's what you mean." She added with a smirk. "It was very good; he more than made up for what he did."

"Anything else?" he said with a sigh, obviously wishing that she hadn't gone into such detail.

"I had a nightmare." She replied quickly, easily remembering that night.

"Did it involve You-Know-Who?"

"If by that you mean Voldemort, then yes." She answered sharply. "I see no reason to refer to him as You-Know-Who, however, seeing as he is no longer a threat. To refuse to speak his name just nullifies our victory."

"That's as maybe, but for now would you please tell us the content of your dream."

"What's there to tell?" she shrugged. "I just saw myself caught between Lucius and everyone else. The Dark Mark was on my arm and it burned, only the pain was real and I woke up because my scar hurt so much."

"What did this mean to you?"

"It meant that Voldemort was, most probably, angry." She explained. "Things like that usually happened when he was angry. Our scars would prickle or we would have especially violent dreams."

"Did Mr Malfoy notice?" he asked inquisitively, obviously wondering how such a prominent Death Eater would react.

"Of course he noticed, seeing as I jumped about a foot out of his arms." She said dryly. "As far as I remember, he just held me until the pain stopped."

"And then what?"

"He just made sure I was alright," she said quietly, "and then he remedied to problem." She finished with a small smile.

"And then the next morning, you both travelled out to Australia for the World Cup Final, yes?" he appeared not to have heard her last comment.

"Yes. We arrived at ten o'clock in the evening, Australian time."

"Where were you staying?"

"He had rented a villa on the coast, far from any serious wizarding settlement. The only person that knew we were staying together was the house elf that came with the house."

"Surely those you saw at the match must've understood that you were staying with him?"

"They didn't," she shook her head; "why would they have any reason to suspect something?" she asked back. "Lucius Malfoy was still, at that point, an upstanding member of society. It was unthinkable that he would be doing such a thing."

"So you were perfectly confident that no one would see through your ruse? That no one would guess that there was something going on after seeing the two of you together?" he demanded of her, although being careful to make sure that his tone of voice remained inoffensive.

""Well, only one person suspected anything and that was one of the young officials that let our car through."

"What did they notice?"

"Well, I remember the words 'lucky sod. At his age, with a girl like that, I should be so lucky'."

"So he obviously thought that you were an item."

"Well he thought that there was something going on," she shrugged, "but I wasn't really concerned seeing as what does the speculation of one person count?"

"What about everyone else in the top box? Didn't our own esteemed Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, notice anything?"

"I had appeared with Mr Malfoy before Minister Fudge many times before and what he saw was a friendship between what were probably two of his most powerful allies. Am I right Minister?" she asked Fudge with raised eyebrows. Fudge seemed to have gone suddenly deaf and didn't appear to hear what she said. "Well, besides that," she continued, "we smiled for the cameras and no one saw past that."

"And after the match?"

"We went to the victory party on the beach and I went surfing with the Australian team." She explained. "One of the Chasers was a bit too enthusiastic about me and Lucius had to, basically, tell him that he was way out of his league."

"And he held onto this secret how?"

"Well, Lucius did modify the guy's memory so he doesn't remember a thing." She laughed. "And then we walked back to our villa. Everyone there was none the wiser; they looked but they didn't see."

"So you returned to England the next day."

"Yes, except we got there before we had left so we re-lived Thursday night."

"And you had dinner?"

"Yes, Lucius had invited the Minister but he was unable to attend so I kept Lucius company instead." She smirked. "But I'm sure that you wouldn't care to hear the details of that night."

"Indeed," he replied through pursed lips, "what really interests me is what was published in the Daily Prophet that Friday."

"That was interesting," she said dryly, "they suggested that my apparent friendship with Lucius Malfoy was in fact a ploy by Minister Fudge to coerce me into a political career."

"Do you think that there is any truth to that statement?"

"Well, they also prophesised that Fudge had designs on my romantic life as well as my job prospects and was willing to encourage a romantic union between myself and Mr Malfoy."

"I assume that you found the article amusing."

"Very," she replied with a wistful smile, "it was just funny that they were writing this and they never knew how close they were to the actual truth."

"So you enjoyed the danger of discovery?"

"Very much so, it's what forbidden relationships thrive on." She explained enthusiastically. "But by this point, I think Lucius was finding it hard to not show such intimacy or affection in public and, to confess, I didn't much like having to pretend that I hated him."

"So you would've rather just brought your relationship out into the open?" he proposed. "And hang the consequences?"

"No, that would have just been silly." She shot back tersely. "It was just frustrating at times."

"Thank you, Miss Potter." He shuffled his papers into a neat stack and motioned for another of his associates to continue. The next to question her was a woman with thick, elegantly bobbed, greying ginger hair and a thick necklace made up of many silver chains around her neck.

"So, Miss Potter, after you left Mr Malfoy when was the next time you saw him?"

"It was at the Quidditch Cup final at Hogwarts." She replied without hesitation. "Just like the year before."

"What were the stakes then?" she asked inquisitively. "If it was just like the year before?"

"The stakes were higher." She replied. "I received a note the week before the match saying that he was upping the stakes to five hundred Galleons."

"What was it the first time?"

"One hundred."

"Quite an increase." She commented.

"It got bigger," Kathryn continued, "after his son's cronies practically threw me into the stands where his father was sitting, he doubled the stakes."

"Why?"

"I don't know," she shrugged her shoulders, "maybe he wanted to see how far he could push me, how far he could tempt me. Or maybe he just wanted to see if his luck had changed."

"Had it?"

"No. We won by the largest margin in the history of Hogwarts," she said with a beaming grin, "despite the fact that his son tried to beat me to death with one of the Beater's clubs halfway through the game."

"So you won and that meant that he owed you one thousand galleons and you had to spend a proportion of the night with him."

"That is correct. Keeping my side of the bet was not an issue though."

"How did you feel when you won?"

"I wanted him." She confessed in quiet voice. "Harry had Ginny and Ron had Hermione to share their triumph with, I had someone that I could not share my happiness with, at least, not in public."

"That made you frustrated."

"Slightly, seeing as I wouldn't get to see him until much later that night. It was one of the few minutes I was prepared to forget everything and just go and kiss him."

"You obviously didn't."

"Yes," she sighed, "the more rational side of my brain kicked in and warned me of the pitfalls of doing so."

"But you were content to wait?"

"Yeah," she replied with a smile, "it was something worth waiting for."

"What? A thousand Galleons?" she said sceptically. "From what I understand, at that point, you were rich enough."

"It wasn't the money I looked forward to." She replied with a wry smile. "I was thoroughly spoiled for my victory. He also made up for his son's attempts to put me out of the game."

"When did you return to your dormitory?"

"It must have been at about six in the morning." She shrugged. "To be honest I didn't look at the time, I was too busy trying not to get caught out."

"And had no one noticed your absence?"

"They were all too tired to care. I just went to bed and stayed there for the next three days as I woke up later that day unable to move."

"Why?"

"His son had inflicted more serious damage then I had originally thought and my back was quite badly damaged. Basically, I had to stay in bed whilst it healed."

"So, that had been your penultimate meeting?"

"Yes," she nodded, "I supposed that our final encounter, before we would find ourselves facing each other over a battlefield, would be the ball that we were organising."

"And how exactly were you going to orchestrate it so that you were going to end up as his partner?" she asked curiously. "As he had already said that you were to consider yourself taken?"

"Well, considering how suspicious my brother and friends were, it had to happen when it would seem rude to refuse." She explained. "And it had to be a very good show." Nodding and writing something down on her parchment, she handed the questioning on for the final time.

The final member of the Wizengamot that was to question her was a thin, elegant woman with fading blonde hair who must have been a beauty in her day. Her pale blue eyes fixed upon Kathryn for a moment before speaking.

"What did you wear for this ball, Mss Potter?" she asked. "As I assume that Mr Malfoy provided you with something spectacular to wear?"

"He did. A week or so before the ball I received a dress."

"What was it like?"

"It was dark red, Gryffindor red, made of chiffon over an original layer of red silk. It was backless and it flowed out behind me as I walked. It is one of the nicest things I own and, to tell the truth, I was terrified of ruining it because it had probably been made specially."

"Was it a custom piece Mr Malfoy?" she asked him sharply.

"Yes," he nodded, "handmade in Paris."

"And the cost?"

"Three thousand Galleons." There were several gasps from around the courtroom.

"Thank you." She turned back to Kathryn. "Anything else?"

"A few days after the dress arrived, another parcel came."

"And this one contained?"

"A tiara."

"Brand new, like the dress?"

"No, this was clearly a family heirloom. It went perfectly well with the diamond necklace he had given me at the first Christmas Ball."

"Did you wear it?" she asked.

"Yes," Kathryn gave a small nod, "it would have been rude to refuse such a gift."

"What about his son? Were you not worried that he would recognise such an heirloom?"

"I don't think he would have given it to me if he had thought his son would recognise it. Besides, how many priceless heirlooms does the Malfoy family have and how likely is a son to pay attention to jewellery?"

"A fair point."

"I wore them and I'm glad I did because I do believe they had the desired effect of stunning the rest of the school."

"Why do you think he gave them to you?" she asked probingly. "Why, if he did like you as much as you have made us believe, did he care about covering you in diamonds?"

"I think he wanted to make other people jealous." She shrugged. "I think he wanted to make sure that people knew he always had the best."

"That is quite selfish of him."

"I think he wanted to make me feel special too." She added. "He wanted to let me know that I was more than just some girl, that I was someone worthy of his affections."

"And you managed to end up as his partner for the evening I take it?"

"Yes."

"Might I ask how?"

"When the Governors arrived, we greeted them and he asked me then. I told him to make a show of it so it looked spontaneous."

"And your friends suspected nothing?"

"The right looks at the right moment do the trick I find."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, for example, just as he finished asking me I shot a desperate look at the four of them basically to say that I didn't really have a choice."

"How very clever of you."

"It has become a certain skill."

"You have become skilled at lying and deception you mean?"

"I'd say its more skill at keeping secrets, but if that's how you want to put it then fine." She shrugged; apparently unfazed that she had just been called a liar. "Anyway, however you see it, I ended up as his partner and I had a wonderful evening."

"I cannot believe that all this happened and no one suspected anything."

"Well, Professor Snape did have some grievances with what I was doing; apparently thinking that I did not know how dangerous he was and that I was playing a dangerous game."

"How did you react to this?"

"I told him that I was perfectly in control but he didn't give up. Later on in the evening he accused me of having already been, as he put it, had, by Lucius Malfoy. He accused me of hiding something because I defended my mind from his invasion."

"Anything more?"

"His final warning was 'don't say I didn't warn you', terribly prosaic, but two years late nevertheless." She replied dryly. "I was quite tempted to tell him that his warning was two years too late but I think that would have ruined the perfect evening."

"Did anyone else notice anything apart from Professor Snape?"

"Hermione noticed, well, saw something." Kathryn replied without hesitation. "She saw him kiss me whilst we were walking in the gardens."

"And did she confront you?"

"The next day, yes, but she said nothing at the ball."

"And what about after the ball? I think I would be a fool to assume that you returned to your dormitory."

"I didn't." She confirmed with a smirk. "And, apart from being nearly caught by Filch, it was one of the best nights of my life." Sitting next to Dumbledore, Snape came to the stomach churning realisation of how close he had come to catching them that night. He knew he had heard voices and he mentally kicked himself for not remembering that that corridor was where the Room of Requirement was located. How would things have gone if he had caught them? What would he have done? Would the bonds of over twenty years of friendship override his duty to the Order to stop such a thing going on? If he had known, and kept their secret, what kind of position would he have been in when they had finally won? Snape was suddenly quite thankful that he hadn't discovered them that night.

"You said that Miss Granger confronted you the next morning." She recapped. "How did you get back to your dormitory unnoticed the next morning?"

"I walked," she replied with a shrug, "I mean, who was going to be up at that time of the morning."

"And Miss Granger confronted you after you got back?"

"Later that afternoon, yes." She nodded in affirmation. "After everyone was properly awake."

"Did she ask where you had spent the night as I do believe that your absence from your dormitory would be noticed?"

"She did ask, just after I got in. I just said that I had spent the night in the Room of Requirement because I had been talking with the Governors and Filch was out on the prowl."

"And your friends believed this?"

"It wasn't necessarily a lie," Kathryn replied with a wry smile, "I had spent the night there and Filch had been on the prowl; they understood that I didn't want to get caught out of bed and wandering the corridors in the dead of night."

"And how did you explain what Miss Granger saw?" she reverted back to the original question.

"I verified her original suspicions that he just cornered me and dived in," Kathryn explained, "they were still quite angry because, apparently, that wasn't part of the plan. They were worried that it would give him cause to expect more. Of course, they didn't know that he was already getting much more."

"And they accepted this?"

"They had no reason to believe otherwise," she shrugged, "they were convinced after some terse arguing and severe indignation on my part."

"How fortunate for you, that you could convince them so well."

"I'd had practice." She replied dryly. In her mind she knew the next event that her questioner would tackle, and she knew that any chance of leniency towards Lucius would hinge upon her answers.

"And, after you left him that morning, when was the next time you saw Mr Malfoy?"