Hush

Two burly Aurors from Azkaban Prison pushed the regal Lucius Malfoy into a metal chair. Unfortunately for Lucius, it was an enchanted chair.

Immediately, thick chains coiled themselves around his prison garb clad arms, legs, and torso, incapacitating him.

The guards cared nothing for the Lord of the House of Malfoy.

Who would? In these past few months, he had become a man to loathe. The name Malfoy was one to sever all possible ties with.

The name Malfoy was now a direct link to You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters.

"Are you Lucius Jareth Draconis Malfoy of the Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire?" rang out the clear voice of Albus Dumbledore. His usually cheerful demeanour was now cold and unfeeling for the man sitting in the chained chair before him.

"Yes," replied Lucius, staring directly into the eyes of Cornelius Fudge. In a matter of days, a new minister would be elected; such a shame... he'd miss out on manipulating yet another election. In the last Rising, it had become a game. Elections were a game that Lucius Malfoy always won.

Maybe Draco might take it into his own hands. Lucius had already passed on the skills of the trade. The much coveted skills of manipulation control and power.

"How do you plea to the crimes against you, Mr. Malfoy?" called Alastor Moody from the front of the Wizengamot. He could hear the joy in the ex-Auror's voice. Albus Dumbledore had re-instated his position so he could be a part of the Malfoy case. Lucius was sure there had been a slight touch of glee in Moody's voice as he read out the four-foot parchment.

Not only was Lucius accused of Death Eater crimes, but there was also corruption of the ministry, violation of the use of spells, breach of muggle relations acts, and the possession of Dark artefacts artifacts.

"Have fun, Malfoy," muttered one of the Aurors who was double-checking his chains. "We'll be taking you back to Azkaban soon enough."

Lucius seethed with anger. Aurors. He hated Aurors. Not only did he hate the infamous Alastor Moody, but also the mere concept of what they were doing. They were a waste and had only caused problems for the House of Malfoy.

"How do you plead, Malfoy?" repeated Moody, his voice thick with the hatred that was now becoming difficult to conceal.

"Not guilty," drawled Lucius, shifting slightly in the chained chair. A dull mutter went through the Wizengamot.

Lucius' wintry gaze remained on Fudge, who was realising just what he'd dug himself into by fraternising with the infamous Lucius Malfoy. Just when he had begun to get everyone to believe Lucius wasn't like the rest of the Malfoy family, this had happened.

Shame.

"Draco Regulus Orion Malfoy, enter and stand before the Wizengamot for questioning," called Dumbledore, raising his hands towards the heavy wooden doors.

Lucius gave Fudge a last cold glare and turned as best he could towards his heir.

Trust Dumbledore to bring a sixteen year old into a court case.

Moody rose from his seat again and faced Draco, who was now standing to the right of the chained chair.

"Are you Draco Regulus Orion Malfoy of the Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire?" he asked coldly. He had apparently managed to regain his calm composure.

Lucius felt a slight relief that the real Alastor Moody had never actually met his son.

"Yes," replied Draco, his voice void of emotion. "I am."

Lucius eyed his only son and heir critically. He hadn't been expecting Draco to be involved with the case. What if he said something that would jeopardize not only Lucius but also himself and future generations?

So far Draco appeared fairly calm. His fair skin may have been a little paler and his eyes slightly colder, but other than that -

Lucius looked over his son again. He was wearing blue. Dark blue, but never the less it was blue.

Draco, like his father, had always been quite attached to black. It contrasted well with pale skin and silver hair, and it didn't stand out in a crowd. Draco's hair was another difference. It hung loosely over his eyes instead of being slicked back of his face. The boy looked nearly angelic.

Narcissa must have had such fun dressing her son in something other than black for the trial.

Poor boy.

~

"Are you aware whether or not your father, Lucius Malfoy, is involved with Death Eaters?" questioned Albus Dumbledore with a slight sigh.

Why in the name of Merlin would the boy answer a question like that? This was his father! As if he'd jeopardize his father in such a way!

Draco looked curiously around the dungeon, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "I don't know my father's friends or acquaintances very well. I'm at school most of the year, sir. I've met various members of other houses from time to time at dinner parties and such, but I never can put a name to a face really." Draco looked wistful for a moment. "Really a shame, that."