The Dark Prince

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Don't you draw the queen of diamonds, boy

She'll beat you if she's able

The queen of hearts is always your best bet

And it seems as if some find things have been laid upon your table

But you only want the one's that you can't get

Eagles - Desperado

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Chapter 27

...beat you...

three months later

"The jury finds the defendant guilty."

"Harold James Potter, you are sentenced to sixteen years in Azkaban. Take him."

Hermione watched the trial from her seat between Snape and Natasha. The two of them had been doing their utmost to keep the reporters off of her for the last three months; Natasha because she was her friend and Snape...well, one never knew with Snape, did one? Hermione only knew that he had actually been rather nice to her. Like a normal person, even!

Ron was sitting on Natasha's other side, glaring coldly at the front of the courtroom as the Dementors dragged Harry from the stand. As they marched him by them, Hermione and Harry's eyes locked. He halted in his tracks, green eyes glaring coldly at her. Or perhaps Snape? No one could tell.

Hermione felt Natasha grip her hand and heard Snape shift to her right, reaching for his wand. But Harry only looked at them for a moment before he moved on.

"Gods..." breathed Natasha as she released the breath she had been holding.

Hermione sighed as well.

Thank Merlin that was over.

The trial for all the captured Death Eater's was finished now. Harry had only gotten sixteen years be cause he was the Boy-Who-Lived. Snape had levied for more, trying to force the judge and the jury to remember that this was the Dark Prince, not some common Death Eater. But they had refused and Harry would be released from Azkaban sixteen years on the same date as his trial.

"Let's go," growled Snape, gently pushing Hermione to her feet and motioning Natasha and Ron to rise as well. The three of them surrounded her as they left, keeping the more racious reporters away.

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It's better this way

I say

Haven't seen this place before

Everything we've said and done

Hurts us all the more

Just that we stay

Too long

In the same old sickly skin

Pulled down by the old one

Never thought I could feel so old

In all the darkness I feel like letting go

Sarah McLachlan - Full of Grace

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Chapter 28

...said and done...

Hermione sighed and leaned her arms against the battlement. She was on the highest reach of the East Tower, which was different from the others as it was flat on the top and not topped with slates.

"Thinking deep thoughts?"

Hermione turned to see Dumbledore mounting the steps, blue eyes twinkling.

"Something like that," said Hermione as she sighed heavily.

Dumbledore walked over to her and placed a withered hand on her shoulder, the weight of it like a feather yet very warm in the chill December air. He looked at her and asked, "Why aren't you wearing a cloak, child?"

"Not cold," replied Hermione, teeth chattering slightly.

Dumbledore frowned at her and waved a hand, conjuring a thick red cloak from Hermione's rooms below them in the East Tower. He laid it over her shoulders and pinned it with the clasp that had been attached. Hermione reached up and touched the clasp, remembering when Harry had given her the Gryffindor red cloak with the golden griffin clasp for her graduation gift. If only she had told him then...

No. It wouldn't have changed anything. And even if it had, what could she do about it now? Things were done. Harry was in Azkaban now.

Her hand slid down to her stomach beneath the cloak, feeling the slight bulge there. She barely felt Dumbledore's hand on her shoulder anymore but she knew he was still there, not saying anything. They just stood there, watching the sunset in silence.

As the last rays vanished and the sky darkened, Hermione bowed her head, closing her eyes.

Harry was in Azkaban

And she carried their child.