Upstairs, staring up at the dark green hangings, she pondered what Harry had asked her. Did she love him? Loving him was most likely to have drastic consequences, not that what she had already done hadn't had such results. Closing her eyes, she shifted beneath the duvet, trying to imagine that he was there as that usually gave her a better night's sleep in the cavernous bed. This was not to be her fortune tonight, however, as Harry's words repeated themselves over and over in her head. She tossed and turned, kicking at the duvet until she was exhausted. Burying her head in the pillows, she finally drifted off only to be woken a few hours later by a House Elf bringing her breakfast and the morning edition of the Prophet.
As usual, she was on the front page; the photograph taken the previous morning in the foyer outside Courtroom ten was enlarged beneath the headline 'STRESS BEGINNING TO SHOW…' Rita Skeeter's exposé was advertised as pages two to five but, as she turned the page, she saw that the headline was continued on page two. '…OR IS IT?' the title finished, above a photo of her the previous afternoon striding through the piles of tumbled reporters.
"Oh dear." She sighed, sipping her tea, going right off the plate of sausage, bacon, beans and toast that had been set before her. "This cannot be good." Setting her breakfast aside, she read as fast as she could to try and get through as much of the article as she could before she had to get up and get dressed. In short Rita Skeeter had, with surprising accuracy and neutrality. True, she had exaggerated slightly when it came to descriptions of what he had done to her and how she had hidden things from her friends. For example, she was described as 'maliciously concealing everything from her brother and trusted friends' whilst Lucius, as she had predicted a day or two ago, garnered the kindly descriptors of 'brutal rapist' and 'consummate evil'.
However, whilst the general facts were correct, save for a little exaggeration, it was Skeeter's own opinion on events that did the most damage. In a lengthy, opinionated piece that took up an entire page; she surmised that, although innocent at the beginning of the whole affair, she was definitely culpable with regard to her actions on and after the first anniversary. Skeeter also found her actions to be 'stupid and childish – hiding her problems instead of going to someone, such as Dumbledore, that could help'. She also found great scandal that she was in possession of forty five million galleons worth of diamond jewellery.
"Well, why don't you try thinking clearly when you are terrified?" she said scathingly as she read the rest of what she had to say. Regaining her appetite, she buttered some toast and ate it quickly as she finished reading; it was fast approaching the time to leave.
Jumping in the shower, she stood beneath the hot jet of water for a long time in an attempt to look refreshed after her restless night. Towel drying her hair, she skimmed through her wardrobe trying to find something appropriate but not too ostentatious. After yesterday's episode and the article in the Prophet, she didn't want to appear lavishly dressed. Catching sight of the clock, she quickly settled on a pair of smart black trousers, a grey silk shirt and a light black cloak as her attire for the day. She didn't care that her hair was wet as she pulled on her shirt and fastened the string of grey pearls around her neck. The sun was out but there was the chill of autumn beginning to appear in the air. They were into the last halcyon days of summer and instead of spending it relaxing in a state of unparalleled freedom that they had never enjoyed, she was bound to London for the fourth time that week to be placed under scrutiny for something that she did not feel was wrong.
Climbing in the car, she tried not to dwell on what the paper had said or what Fudge was probably going to do today as they sped towards London. She knew that she would have to stay calm but she wasn't sure how long she could maintain such a front if Fudge really began to push her buttons. She would be able to do very little in terms of challenging his questions, it wasn't like the past two days when she had been questioned on matters relevant to the trial; here Fudge could challenge what she said and, in the worst case, propose another outcome for certain situations and try to sell it as the truth.
After yesterdays experience, people did not crowd her as she strode through the atrium and she was unhindered by the press. They, sensibly, kept their distance and let her go unquestioned despite wanting reaction to Rita Skeeter's article. Their questions were, however, most probably answered by the murderous gleam that flickered in her eyes whenever a flashbulb went off for, although they kept their mouths shut, they still blinded her as she walked. Taking the lift down for a change, she stared defiantly out at them as the grille closed. Although she wanted to look strong and undaunted, her entrance would probably be described as cocky and arrogant.
She didn't wait in the corridor for him to arrive like she had done previously; instead she cut a swathe through the people already beginning to assemble in the courtroom. They parted easily for her, not making eye contact and, for those who know her, not showing any familiarity. She stood on her little podium and stared them down until the Wizengamot filed in and Lucius was escorted into the room. Looking up at her, he gave her a wan smile as he was chained down to the stiff wooden chair. He looked slightly paler than he had the previous day and, fleetingly, she wondered how much more of Azkaban and the Dementors he could stand.
Looking up at her, standing tall despite knowing what was to come, he felt his chest swell with pride. She was wearing the string of pearls that he had found on his trip to Paris and she looked nothing short of formidable; her fingers running idly over the serpent shaped top of his cane. She looked perfectly deserving of the Malfoy name; exuding the power with which his family had been associated for generations.
"Now, Miss Potter," Fudge began once everyone had settled down, "over the past two days you have given your testimony to the Wizengamot and, whilst it was very informative, there are a few points which I would like to expand further."
"As you wish." She sighed.
"I do not wish to appear rude," he began, although Kathryn knew that he had no such intentions, "but I cannot believe that you betrayed nothing to him. I cannot see any reason for him to so dramatically change his treatment of you."
"Can't you?" she had thought the reason was obvious.
"You cannot say that you slipped him no information whatsoever." Fudge scoffed. "Not even small bits, like what was planned next, or the location of your headquarters."
"You don't get it, do you?" she replied scathingly, again taking on the tone of Professor Snape when addressing students. "It's called willpower. That is how you cope with things like that. Considering the things I knew, anything I revealed, no matter how small, would have been a devastating blow to the Order. As for the location, well, you have heard of the Fidelius charm, have you not?" Fudge shifted in his seat, probably wishing he hadn't asked such a question. "I could've given him the exact location and he would have looked in the window and seen nothing."
"So nothing of the Order's plans passed your lips over the whole period of nearly two years?"
"Minister, I'm beginning to wonder if you fully understand the definite meaning of no." She drawled in a bored tone. "I'd happily explain it to you but I fear that it would waste the Wizengamot's time. Give me Veritaserum if you like, but I assure you that the answer will be the same. Why do you think he gave up asking me?"
"Very well, Miss Potter, you have made your point." Fudge changed the topic, an embarrassed flush creeping into his cheeks. "Let's move on."
"What a good idea." She murmured just loud enough for people to hear. Clearing his throat loudly to quell the titters of laughter that shot around the room, Fudge shuffled his papers until there was silence once more.
"I would like to move onto something which I found to be quite disturbing throughout your entire testimony."
"I thought you found all of it disturbing?" she shot back dryly.
"That's as maybe, but for now I would like to focus upon your apparent lack of moral judgement throughout this entire affair."
"That depends on how you define morals, Minister." She interjected. "My morals, I think you'll find, were unquestionable; I did not break under pressure, torture and humiliation. Despite being faced with numerous offers of release, I did not give in because it would cost too much. I have sacrificed more than you can imagine."
"That maybe so, Miss Potter, I, however, am referring to the time between the twenty third of August last year and January of this year."
"I thought you might be."
"You showed no apparent care that, during this period you were committing adultery. You said yourself that you were no longer a toy; that you had been elevated to the position of a lover."
"It was never explicitly stated." She shot back. "Get your language right. Nothing was said and no conscious decision was made, things just changed."
"Proper wording or not you were still an adulteress. You were the other woman in a marriage. You were, for a short period of time, Lucius Malfoy's mistress."
"His wife died." She shrugged. "That, in a sense, legitimised everything. I never considered myself his mistress. I never really knew what I was."
"But you were happy that she had died?"
"I most certainly was not." She retorted fiercely. "As I believe I demonstrated yesterday, I could not bear the thought of him having killed for me."
"But ultimately?"
"To tell the truth," she worded this carefully as she knew he was trying to make her appear heartless, "it has proven advantageous considering the way things have developed. Had he still a wife I doubt that I would have survived beyond the final battle because there was no way that he could've helped me without her knowledge."
"So you count Lucius Malfoy as the reason for your survival?"
"Why no, Minister, I healed myself." She responded in a tone so sharp it could have cut glass. "Of course I consider myself alive because of his actions."
"Are you not then beholden to him for such actions? Are you doing this because you owe him?" Fudge pushed her, trying to make her snap. She simply shook her head coolly and replied in a perfectly calm voice.
"I am doing this because I choose to, not because it has been asked or demanded of me."
"Very well." Fudge sighed, obviously not wanting to get into a protracted argument. "What about children, Miss Potter?" he asked, a fiendish glint in his eyes.
"What about them?"
"Just how many pregnancies have you terminated over the past two years?"
"How dare you!" she breathed, her friends understanding that the quiet tone made her all the more dangerous.
"It is a legitimate question." Fudge shrugged.
"Do you really think we were stupid enough to allow that to happen?" she asked furiously. "And what gives you the right to assume that my first course of action would be to terminate a pregnancy, or that his would be to order it?"
"I never suggested…" he flustered.
"But you were thinking it." She shot back. "You assume that he would not support such a thing. That he would be ashamed."
"I am just postulating Miss Potter, from Mr Malfoys reputation; that any child by you would not be looked upon favourably."
"I have yet to find that out." She replied stiffly, indicating that his line of questioning was over, but also leaving the audience to digest the hint that she was not ruling out bearing his child.
"Moving on," Fudge grimaced and shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, "Madam Umbridge," he nodded to Umbridge who was sitting beneath them, "and I have several concerns regarding your supposed injuries sustained during your confrontation with He Who Must Not Be Named, and his Death Eaters." The very mention of the word 'supposed' made her sense that this was not going to be good.
"And those queries are?" she responded, keeping her face impassive despite the fact that her heart was racing.
"As I am sure everyone in this courtroom knows, memories can be fabricated and altered and, as you were seemingly unconscious for a prolonged period of time, we could not help but wonder if these memories were fabricated as his alibi."
"So you are basically saying that you think I lied to you? That I invented such horrific wounds to try and offer him some chance of redemption in your eyes?"
"We are stating that it is a possibility." Fudge clarified. "There is a simple spell that will show the truth."
"It's called Veritaserum, Fudge," she said in a manner very much akin to Snape on a bad day, "you do not even have to lift your wand."
"This spell is completely accurate though," Fudge argued, "seeing as you managed to fool everyone thanks to your skill as an Occlumens, it is not impossible that you have found a way around Veritaserum."
"Veritaserum is near impossible to counter, save for with the antidote."
"But is has been done on rare occasions," Fudge countered, "I am simply searching for the absolute truth." She wanted to hex him for trying to sound so righteous.
"I swore an oath to tell you the truth." She reiterated. "Despite what you may think, I honour that."
"How unfortunate that you have no choice in the matter." Fudge sighed, although she knew that he was not sorry at all.
"Indeed." She gave Fudge a look that surpassed even Snape in terms of venomousness.
"Now," Fudge continued in a businesslike tone, "considering as your claimed injuries were centred around your back and sides, it will be necessary for us to see these areas."
"You could just ask me to take my shirt off Fudge." She snapped angrily. "If you'll give me a moment." Lucius couldn't believe what she did next. Remaining where she was, she held her cloak over her chest with one hand whilst she undid the buttons down the front of her shirt with the other. No one could believe what she was doing as they watched her hand slip behind her back. Carefully, she moved the cloak until it was tucked behind her arms and, as she brought her arms down, the silk slipped gracefully off her shoulders where it landed in a pile at her feet. This was followed by the dove grey silk of her underwear. Holding her head high, unwilling to be robbed of her dignity by such a man, she slowly turned on the spot until her back was completely to the entire courtroom and all she could see was the harsh stone wall.
There was a flurry of muttering around the courtroom as she stood there with her back on display. Lucius realised that this was because most of the people sat on the observation benches had never seen her in person before and thus had no idea that she was exactly how she looked in photographs. Her back was elegant and flowing, the lace of her underwear just visible above the waistline of her trousers. In one sweeping motion, she lifted her long hair off her back and draped it over her shoulder to afford them a better view.
"Satisfactory, Minister?" she asked Fudge, turning her head to face him and raising a quizzical eyebrow.
"Perfectly." Fudge replied, looking distinctly ruffled. He obviously couldn't believe what she had just done either. "Right, well, lets get on with this."
Lucius held his breath as Fudge waved his wand but did not speak the incantation. He remembered reading about such spells but he could not recall any of their side effects. He had no doubt that this would instantly disprove what Fudge was saying but he was just worried about what it would do to her. Fudge completed the wand movement and, in the silence of the courtroom, everyone watched as small patches of red began to appear on her back.
Kathryn could not see what was happening, but she was aware of a faint, warm tingling sensation spreading across her back. This tingling sensation, however, also spread to her head, face, ribs and legs. She realised, as the heat intensified, that it was revealing all of her injuries that she had sustained. Soon, however, she began to sense that something was wrong. The warmth, which had been bearable at first, had intensified to a burning, stinging sensation which was, if she remembered correctly, exactly how her injuries had felt.
Lucius began to realise something was wrong when, as the horrific damage that had been done to her back reappeared, she braced herself against the wooden balustrade of the podium. Kathryn felt the bone in her ankle scream in pain, even thought it was not broken. She could hear people in the courtroom gasping in shock as they saw the extent of her injuries. Turning her head to look at Fudge as best she could, people saw the trickle of blood running from her scalp and the bruises forming around her face.
"Are you satisfied?" she managed to gasp out as her legs threatened to buckle beneath her. "Are you quite happy?" she could not speak any more, all that was keeping her from falling were her arms braced on the podium.
"Stop!" she heard Lucius shout. "Can't you see it's hurting her?" Fudge appeared to have gone deaf and did not move even as she cried out in pain for the whole courtroom to hear. Lucius struggled against his bonds as he watched tears spill down her cheeks.
"Stop!" he yelled again, but to no avail. Snape, sitting uncomfortably in his seat, remembered his vow to Lucius and was beginning to feel that this would be considered a point to fulfil it. No sooner had he risen from his seat, there was an anguished cry and he watched as Miss Potter's eyes rolled back into her head and she fell to the ground with a thud; her head making a sickening crack as it hit the wooden floor. Snape continued to gaze, awestruck, as Lucius, roaring in anger, strained against his chains only for them to disappear entirely. Not wasting any time, and with surprising speed for one that had been imprisoned for so long, Lucius dashed up the stairs before any of the Aurors could hold him back.
Skidding to his knees beside her, he gathered her limp form into his arms and cradled her to his chest as if nothing was more precious to him.
"Are you happy?" he yelled at Fudge who was sitting, horror struck, at the bench. "Is all you wish to inflict pain? She has seen enough!" carefully, he gathered her cloak around her slender figure to protect her from curious eyes.
Getting to his feet, he walked calmly down the stairs, down the length of the courtroom and out the doors at the end. Having reached the podium a split second slower than Lucius, Snape picked up her fallen shirt and underwear and followed Lucius from the room. After a few brief words, he re-entered the chamber and closed the doors behind him.
"They're not going anywhere." He said harshly to an Auror who made to follow them out.
Outside, just through the doors, Lucius sank to the floor and sat against the wall, cradling her gently in his arms. He waited, just holding her, as silent tears rolled down her cheeks and cries that she refused to voice wracked her body.
"I have never been so humiliated." She whispered eventually, pulling the cloak tighter about her shoulders.
"The man's a sadist."
Slipping off his knees, she laid herself out on the tiled floor and looked at him with deep, swirling emerald eyes.
"It is worrying that he takes almost as much pleasure in inflicting pain as any standard Death Eater," she mused, "no offence."
"None taken." He lay down next to her and stroked his hand down her exposed side like the way he had done after he'd healed her injuries.
"It seems like an age since that fight," she told him softly, "I had almost begun to forget the pain." She shuddered slightly and he rearranged the cloak to keep her warmer.
"I cannot believe that the Wizengamot approves of the use of such a spell to reveal injuries." He muttered indignantly.
"I think that they will, under the insistence of dear Minister Fudge, accept anything that gets people convicted quickly." She sighed. "Just like old Barty Crouch once did."
"He's not quite there yet." There was silence between them for a few minutes before she spoke again.
"Sometimes I don't know why I am bothering." She sighed. "Everyone knows what the verdict is going to be." Tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks.
"Not for you." He reminded her. "True, the verdict for me is very predictable, although you have a chance to reduce it, but this trial is really to judge you."
"They could've just said that instead of doing it like this." She snapped. "They could've just asked me to stand trial."
"Maybe, but even then they would've been met with stiff opposition. Although people do not have the best opinions of you at the moment, to many, especially in the Order, you are still a hero." He reminded her. "They couldn't have called for you to stand trial, there would've been uproar. I think that most people believe that you have done nothing fundamentally wrong, that you did not betray the order; they just want to see you dragged through the mud for not being morally sound in other areas of your life."
"But in the process everything else that I have done has been forgotten." She said quietly, wishing she could make the tears stop.
"Listen," he replied softly, taking her face in his hands, "no matter what anyone says, you are still a hero to the people that count." Nodding, she wiped her eyes and sat up, still clutching the cloak around her.
"But so are you," she insisted, "without you, Harry and I wouldn't be here."
"I doubt that many will see it that way."
"I just wish it was all over and that I could take you home." She told him, picking up her clothes from where Snape had left them and starting to put them back on. "But I don't dare ask for you to be placed under house arrest lest they accuse me of a plot to get you out the country."
"Indeed." Standing up with her, he pulled her close as she did up the buttons of her shirt.
"Of course," she continued with a wicked smirk, "I could just tell that that I have no intention of helping you escape and that I just want you to warm my bed."
"My bed, you mean." He countered with an equally devilish smirk, ducking his head and capturing her lips.
"Our bed." She finally managed to say once he pulled away. As he kissed her again, all that she could feel burning inside of her was desire and it destroyed her being unable to quench it.
"Ready?" he asked several minutes later as he realised that their absence was growing more suspicious.
"If you mean to remind Cornelius Fudge of who I am, yes." She gave him a wide smile and, with a quick bit of wandless magic opened the doors.
Even those who had seen their entrance the previous day could not failed to be awed at the manner in which she re-entered the courtroom. Despite having left almost twenty minutes before bundled in his arms, her strides were swift and powerful and all those who were watching wouldn't have liked to get in her way. It was not, however, the thing that alarmed observers the most. No, that accolade was taken by the look that burned in her eyes. It blatantly dared Fudge to even say anything as she approached. To her delight, Fudge shifted anxiously in his seat and did not dare venture comment.
"I assume now, Fudge," she did not address him as Minister this time, "that you are satisfied that I indeed told you the truth about my injuries."
"Quite." Fudge stammered, a sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead.
"Good." She replied shortly. Another bit of wandless magic had her, bag and his cane in her hands. As he laid her cloak around her shoulders, she spoke again. "Then I shall see you tomorrow as I am quite finished with being humiliated for one day." Kissing Lucius without caring that they were watching, she strode out of the room without a backward glance.
There was a positive side to leaving so abruptly; the atrium was devoid of photographers and she could make it to the elevator out in record time. As she sat in the car, all she could feel was sheer anger. Instead of sitting properly, she sprawled herself out in the larger than normal seats and, for the first time in a while, stuck her headphones in her ears and shut off from everything that was going on. As well as giving her the opportunity to think, it also made the journey pass quickly and, before she knew it, she was climbing up the steps to her bedroom.
As she hung up her cloak, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Instead of being in its usual long waves, her hair was messy and caught up in the beading of her necklace. Her shirt was a crinkled mess; un-tucked and buttoned up wrong. She had been in such a hurry to do it up she had completely missed half of the buttons and, consequently, the shirt hung off her bare shoulder exposing the grey bra strap beneath. Her eyes were suddenly ringed by large dark circles and her skin was unusually pale. She could still feel a lingering tingling sensation thanks to that ridiculous spell Fudge had used.
The feeling of humiliation that had gripped her in the Ministry took hold again as she stared at her reflection. She looked broken and defeated; far from the person she had been that morning. Unbidden, tears began to once more streak down her cheeks before escalating into choking sobs. She lay on her bed for hours, long after the tears had stopped. She was still desperately unhappy but she couldn't physically cry anymore. Picking up her wand, she lazily summoned a few bits and bobs and, moments later, her hand curled around the cool stem of a glass.