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A/N: I've refound my inspiration for this story so I'm back again.

Sorry it's taken me forever to do anything with this story- If I have any readers left, I hope you enjoy it!



Chapter 4


George Strikes Again


“I still don’t see why you want to help the git,” Ron mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall of The Burrow.


Harry Potter sighed softly, tilting his head up towards the weak rays of the September sun. Could Malfoy feel the sun at all in his little cell in Azkaban? The thought that he probably couldn’t gave Harry the chills and strengthened his resolve to get Draco Malfoy out of prison and back into the world where he belonged.


“Because,” he began patiently, “It’s what Dumbledore would want. He and Snape protected Draco when it counted and I have to continue with that as far as I can. Dumbledore wouldn’t sit back and let Draco rot for being bullied and brainwashed. Besides, I want to see Luna smiling again. Draco Malfoy’s freedom is the only thing that’s going to do that.”


Ron scowled. “She really must be barmy. He held her captive in his cellar for goodness sake!”


“No he didn’t. Voldemort did,” Harry corrected. “Luna helped me, helped us I should say, and now its our turn to repay her. And that means getting ferret boy out of Azkaban.”


“Fine.” Ron threw up his hands in despair. “I’ll do it. I’ll testify if that’s what you want.”


Harry cocked his head to the side and surveyed his best friend for a few moments. “You’ve been doing what I want for the last seven years, Ron. Can’t you just do this for Luna?”


The light breeze drifting around the garden tickled Ron’s cheeks and lifted the loose tendrils of his thick red hair around his temples. “Yeah. I guess I can.”




“I guess we owe her. She’s stuck by us on more than one occasion,” Ron pointed out.


“Absolutely.” Harry automatically pressed his dark, untameable hair flat along his skull in an effort to try to control it. He wanted to look as smart as possible during the meeting with Draco’s legal representative. It was important that the man took them all seriously and understood that they were on Draco’s side.


“You can tell Malfoy’s a rich brat,” Ron said evenly. “He’s got his snooty lawyer to come out to see us. Usually we’d have to go to the office.”


“Guess that’s the power of the Malfoy name as well. This is going to be a high profile case, Ron. It would benefit the man to bend over backwards for his client. Don’t you think?”


“Yeah, this will probably make his career. The man who got the Malfoy heir off scott free,” Ron glowered at the very thought.


Harry’s eyes narrowed, “I’d hardly say he got off scott free, Ron. You didn’t see the things I saw through the connection to Voldemort’s mind.”


“Thank Merlin for that!” Ron replied.


The kitchen door opened and Hermione stuck her head out. “There you two are,” she exclaimed. “I’ve been looking for you. Mr Ravenscroft will be here any moment.”


“We know,” Ron assured her.


“Did you put on clean socks, Ron?” Hermione questioned.


Ron stared at her stupidly. “What the hell for? He’s hardly going to give a toss about my socks, is he?”


“We want to make a good impression,” Hermione told him firmly.


“We will, Hermione,” Harry assured her.


Hermione nodded, worrying at her bottom lip for moment. “Have you cleared away the chess set?”


“Yes.” Ron said.


“Did you put the flowers in the front room like I asked you to?”


“Yes,” Ron assured her.


“Have you moved the muggle radio and all the parts out of the front room?” Hermione demanded. Mr Weasley had been tinkering with it the previous night, still as fascinated with muggle contraptions as he ever had been. It seemed to Hermione that he needed a bit of a distraction and some relaxation time when he came home, he and Mrs Weasley were always back and forth Hogwarts helping to rebuild and things at the Ministry, from what Hermione could work out, were as chaotic as ever.


“Yes!” Ron snapped impatiently, before asking sarcastically, “Anything else I can do for you, Hermione? Would you like the house moved a little bit to the left or something?”


Harry snorted and quickly turned the noise into a cough at the annoyed look on Hermione’s face. “I just want everything to be perfect. I promised Luna.” With that, she shut the door sharply, leaving the two boys alone in the garden again.


“Neurotic.” Ron stated firmly.


Harry grinned, “Is it only now that you’re noticing?”


“It seems more apparent now than it was before,” Ron admitted. “Maybe that’s because she’s practically living here.”


“What’s wrong with that?” Harry asked.


“Nothing, I like having her around. Expect for when she bosses me about,” Ron said ruefully.


“Well never mind about that now,” Harry straightened his jacket and squared his shoulders. “Let’s get inside, Hermione will skin us if Mr Ravenscroft turns up and we aren’t there to greet him.”


Ron followed Harry into the kitchen where Hermione was busy putting finishing touches to a plate of sandwiches. Ron’s stomach growled and he headed to the plate, intent on snagging just one for himself. He stared incredulously at the little bite sized sandwiches that sat on the plate.


Picking one up between his thumb and forefinger he examined it for a moment. “What is this meant to be?” he asked with disgust. “What happened to the real food?”


“These are finger foods, Ron,” Hermione explained, “He’s not coming here for a picnic, he’s coming to discuss Draco’s case and how we can help him. It’s business.”


“Then why the food?”


“It’s just the way things are done,” Hermione said, plucking the sandwich out of Ron’s hand and putting it back neatly on the plate. “Your hands are clean, aren’t they?”


“Yes,” Ron replied wearily.


A flash of green flames erupted in the fire place and Luna stepped out of the grate. She smiled a greeting all around, thrilled that her friends had agreed to help her, to help Draco and get him out of Azkaban. Draco was not the monster the papers were making him out to be, and perhaps once it was common knowledge that Harry Potter was fighting for Draco then more people would be inclined to give Draco a second chance. Didn’t everyone deserve a second chance? Draco had not done anything that was so terrible he deserved a sentence in Azkaban for it, and Harry was going to help her to prove that.


Luna glanced quickly at Harry again and she bestowed a fond look upon him. How lovely it was to have friends!


Smoothing down her pale lilac dress, an outfit that Harry secretly thought was rather understated for Luna, she moved to Harry’s side, twisting the ring on her finger nervously as the flames began to dance green in the grate again and Mr Ravenscroft appeared. He was tall, with broad shoulders and black hair that was slightly greying around the temples, but instead of making him look old, it gave him a dignified look.


Stepping into the kitchen, Mr Ravenscroft shook Luna’s hand and was introduced to Ron, Hermione and Harry. Although, Luna thought that they probably didn’t need an introduction, everyone knew who they were.


Harry shook hands with Mr Ravenscroft, disliking the way the man stared so intently at him. Harry’s instant thought was that this man was a Slytherin. There was something about the slanting brown eyes in the thin, pointed face with the high cheek bones, they looked sharp and shrewd and Harry felt no surprise whatsoever that this man had dealt with the Malfoy family for years.


“Nice you meet you,” Harry offered, taking his hand back and shoving it into his pocket.


“And you, Mr Potter. Miss Lovegood has informed me that you are more than willing to testify for my client at his trial.” Mr Ravenscroft examined Harry closely again, as though he were looking for some indication that Harry wasn’t being as helpful as he appeared to be.


“That’s right,” Hermione stepped forward and motioned towards the front room. “Please come through, Mr Ravenscroft and we can discuss everything in detail.”


Hermione led the way and the others fell into single file behind her with Ron bringing up the rear, the plate of sandwiches in his hands. Hermione frowned when she spotted him and immediately whipped the plate from him. “Can I offer you a sandwich, Mr Ravenscroft?”


“No thank you, Miss Granger,” Mr Ravenscroft seated himself in the arm chair, placing his leather brief case at his feet.


Ron glared at Hermione, his eyes following the plate of sandwiches as they were set on the little end table beside Mr Ravenscroft. His stomach gurgled quietly, like a little beast demanding food, and Ron patted it absently, as though reassuring it that his throat had not been cut and food would be coming shortly.


“Now then,” Hermione began, seating herself next to Luna on the sofa, crossing her legs and overlapping her hands on her knees. “We are all willing to do what needs to be done to help Draco and we are eager to begin, aren’t we?” she glanced from Harry, who sat on the other side of Luna, to Ron, who was edging himself closer to the chair in which Mr Ravenscroft sat.


“Of course,” Harry agreed.


“Um… yeah. Right.” Ron mumbled, dragging his eyes away from the food when Hermione fixed him with a hard stare.


“What would the first steps be?” Hermione queried.


Mr Ravenscroft sighed heavily. “I think, before we continue, that I need to stress something to you all, especially to you, Miss Lovegood. It doesn’t look good for Draco. I think we can get a reduced sentence, so that he only serves a few years, but I don’t anticipate Draco walking away from this without some sort of jail sentence.”


Harry felt Luna stiffen beside him, her eyes widening and her lips parting in a silent gasp of horror. She stared at Ravenscroft disbelievingly. She wanted to argue the point, she wanted to scream that it wasn’t true, but the words stuck in her throat and her mind seemed to have shut down. She couldn’t think, all Luna could do was sit there with shock waves of denial running through her body.


“That can’t be right,” Hermione argued. “Draco must have a good case. After all, he didn’t kill Dumbledore, did he. Dumbledore knew what Draco had been ordered to do and he tried to help him. When we were at Malfoy Manor Draco had the opportunity of exposing us and he didn’t take it. He’s done some good deeds too.”


Harry stood up and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe that we don’t have a good case to argue. Draco’s been forced to do some awful things, and he shouldn’t be punished for making the wrong decision. He’s only young.”


Ravenscroft nodded gravely. “Yes, indeed. Which means he will have his whole life ahead of him when he comes out of Azkaban, time enough to start again. There are others, due to the Death Eaters, which include Draco, who do not have that luxury.”


“Who’s side are you on exactly?” Harry demanded, his anger flaring. He wouldn’t accept that there was nothing he could do for Draco. Whatever Draco had done, and Harry didn’t fool himself into thinking that Draco’s sins were trivial, Harry didn’t believe that Draco’s punishment should be Azkaban. Draco, from what he could tell, had suffered enough.


“I’m just surmising what Counsel for the prosecution would argue, Mr Potter. It is not my intention to deliver false promises. I believe that we should all know the likely outcome up front. I do think though, that with a testimony from the Golden Trio, we should have a good chance of cutting Draco’s sentence down to maybe three years at the most,” Ravenscroft offered, as though he were telling them he could get them free tickets to Disney Land.


“Three years,” Luna whispered aghast, the blood draining from her face and her hand absently clawing at her necklace.


“The Golden who?” Ron asked, sidling around the chair to stand next to the little table that housed the sandwiches.


“The Golden Trio. Your goodselves.” Ravenscroft smoothed a crease out of his pin striped trousers. “It’s what the press have dubbed you. Do you not read the paper?”


“Not The Daily Prophet,” Harry said dismissively. “We’ve been too busy to worry about what they have to say.”


“And we’ve learnt from experience not to believe everything they print,” Ron added.


Hermione patted Luna’s arm softly and got up to pour her friend a drink, Luna looked as though she needed something a little stronger than coffee. Pursing her lips with annoyance as she watched Ron eyeing the sandwiches she picked up the plate and offered them to Mr Ravenscroft while saying, “Ron, pour Luna a little brandy will you? It’s good for a shock.”


Sighing heavily and narrowing his eyes at Hermione, Ron went to do as she asked. She was deliberately trying to keep him from eating and Ron didn’t see why, after all Ravenscroft didn’t seem to want anything they had to offer. He was the only one who wanted her pathetic excuse for a sandwich.


“Are you saying,” Luna said softly as she took the glass of brandy from Ron. “That there’s nothing we can do to spare Draco a sentence in Azkaban?”


“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’ve looked through all the evidence and our defence is too weak to fight against the charges that have been built up against Draco. However, like I said, I think we have a good chance at a very short sentence.” Picking up his brief case, Ravenscroft opened it up on his lap and shuffled his papers. “I took the liberty of preparing some draft statements on your behalf, perhaps we should go through them together and flesh them out a little?”


“Fine.” Harry agreed sitting down in the chair. “That will be fine, won’t it, Luna?”


Luna glanced up at Harry, her distraught expression wavering and then slowly disappearing when she saw the gleam in those emerald green eyes. Harry was planning something, she was sure of it. “Yes. Fine.”


“I’ll take a coffee now, Mr Weasley. Black, one sugar,“ said Ravenscroft  as he sorted through his paperwork. Ron obliged, setting the white china cup and saucer on the table beside the chair and sneakily moving his hand to the plate and swiping a sandwich off the end. He felt Hermione’s hot glare on him as he stuffed the whole thing in his mouth at once.


Mentally he cheered his little victory. Ron Weasley: one. Hermione Granger: nil.


The sound of the front door slamming alerted everyone that someone had returned home and Harry guessed that it would be George. Percy generally worked late hours at the Ministry these days and Charlie had gone off to China to study a new breed of dragon that had recently come to light over there.


“Luna first,” Harry suggested to Ravenscroft as he stood up. “Ron, could you help me make some tea?”


“We have coffee,” Ron reminded him, indicating the tea pot.


“Of course. Well perhaps you could…” Harry trailed off, glancing to Hermione for help and inspiration.


Hermione rolled her eyes, Ron still didn’t pick up hints even after all these years. “As we’re going to be here for a little while, perhaps you could help Harry bring in the cakes, Ron?”


“Cakes?” Ron perked up. “I didn’t know there were cakes.”


“In the kitchen,” Hermione replied. “The cake stand is on the counter. And don’t forget the napkins,” she added.


“We won’t,” Harry said heading out of the room.


“Anything else?” Ron asked, mumbling under his breath, “A pink ribbon for the sugar bowl, perhaps?”


“Shh,” Harry hissed, digging his friend in the ribs. “Not now, Ron.”


Ron followed Harry into the kitchen where George was sorting through a bag of prototype’s for the joke shop. Ron ignored his brother completely and went in search of the cakes. “If I was a cake, where would Hermione hide me?” he wondered, flinging open cupboards and rummaging through the boxes.


“I’m glad you’re back,” Harry said, leaning his hip against the kitchen table.” I need your help.”


George‘s freckled face split into a grin. “Always ready to help, Harry. What do you need?”


“I need to be able to shrink down to pocket size,” Harry said mysteriously.


George grinned again, flashing even white teeth. “Sure, sure. I can do that. Except that my potion is a joke, you know. So it doesn’t last very long.”


Harry considered for a moment, biting on his bottom lip. “I need something that’s going to last for a while. Can you alter the potion at all?”


“I guess I could. But that would be more of Hermione’s expertise,” George pointed out. “I’m not a serious potions master by any means, Harry. I just fool around with things. If you want something strong I’m not the best person to go to.”


“Alright,” Harry accepted what George said, and he hoped that he wasn’t going to have too difficult a time in convincing Hermione to play with the potion a little.


“Let me show you what I do have, something that might help you. You might not have to shrink with this,” George said triumphantly. “It’s a new line. The last thing Fred and I worked on together, I’ve just finished a prototype.” Digging about in his bag he pulled out a small box and withdrew from it, from what Harry could see, a round black piece of rubber.


“What is it?”


“A hole in the wall,” George announced proudly, his brown eyes glowing with mischief.


“Bloody brilliant!” Ron enthused through a mouthful of cake.


“Perfect,” Harry said in awe. “Just perfect.”


“Told you,” George wiggled the black rubber so that it flapped back and forth. “You just put it on the wall and look through it. The name speaks for itself really, doesn’t it. You won’t have to shrink to sneak about now you’ve got this.”


“Oh I’ll still need to shrink, but this is just perfect. It blows my other idea right out of the water,” Harry admitted, touching the hole in the wall with the tips of his fingers.


Ron’s brow furrowed, “Just what is this idea of yours, Harry?”


“Well, it occurred to me,” Harry began, “that if we can’t get Draco out of prison legally. We’ll just do it illegally.”


Ron shook his head bewildered. “I don’t understand, mate.”


Harry‘s face darkened. “I refuse to just stand here and watch Draco sentenced to Azkaban out of pure spite; and that’s what’s going to happen. It won’t be a fair trial, there’s not a person in the wizarding world who would be lenient towards him, emotions are still running too high,” Harry explained, his eyes flashing with injustice.


Luna at least deserved better he thought, she had fought and fought bravely for the freedom of the wizarding world, and Harry didn’t see why she should have to lose out because Draco Malfoy made very bad decisions. Luna had done a lot for him, she had been one of the only people to stand up for him when everyone else, including the Ministry of Magic itself, thought he was crazy. If he was honest with himself, Harry had no faith in the legal system whatsoever, after all, it was the same system that had imprisoned Sirius for years over something he hadn’t even done! Why should Draco have to suffer the same treatment just because he was a prat?


“I happen to agree with you,” George said, packing up the hole in the wall and handing the box to Harry. “But where do we come in to it?”


Harry smiled innocently, “Simple. We’re going to break Draco out of Azkaban.”   








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