Chapter Text
There was mass pandemonium as Bagman, his face white, drew his wand and Apparated away before anyone could stop him.
“This proves nothing!” exclaimed Umbridge from her seat.
“You—” Diggory’s mustache wiggled, and his wand appeared in his hand. “You cheated—my Cedric—! Aurors—arrest them!”
“Order!” shouted Vane.
“I’d rather we have it his way,” snarled Mr Macmillan, equally furious at his precious Ernie’s denial. “All in favor of arresting the individuals who haven’t Apparated, yet.”
There was a loud chorus of Ayes, and Mr Potter, not one to waste a chance at apprehending a law-breaking wizard, immediately began to round them up with his team of Aurors.
These goings-ons, however, had little effect on Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger, who stood within the pandemonium with eyes only for each other. There was a long pause, and then Mr Malfoy gasped, “I was wrong! I should not have suggested it—and when I implied that you—”
“No, you were right!” she exclaimed. “If you hadn’t—if you hadn’t asked me to look again—I would never have thought of Miss Brown, of how I’d dismissed her because I—didn’t want to think of how she thought of me—as ruthless—!”
“My ruthless darling!” he said, drawing her into a tight embrace, completely disregarding propriety.
Their embrace came to an abrupt end when Draco realized that they were being observed by Mr Potter, who had easily overcome any resisting wizards, and now leaned against a wall with a large grin on his face.
"Told you it would all turn out, didn’t I?” he said to Draco. "Even Hermione's school. I figure all that fuss over Marymount will die down now Umbridge and Selwyn and all those other scoundrels are gone. Well done!"
“We only managed it by sheer luck!” protested Draco.
“But you never know what might have happened otherwise! And if this doesn’t prove your reputation—”
"You know it won't stick."
"Think it might, when you marry Hermione!”
“If she’ll still have me—”
“If that doesn’t take the boat!” interjected Ron Weasley indignantly. “As if we didn’t just see you embrace her!”
“That,” said Draco with dignity, “was because we were carried away with the success of our case.”
"I always knew you fancied Hermione," confessed Harry.
"What!" exclaimed Hermione.
"Draco isn’t as subtle as he thinks!”
"Why didn't you—"
"Introduce him, Hermione? He'd have run away! Draco, you’ve a strong sense of duty, but if you don't mind me saying, you're a Slytherin through and through. Cowards, all of you! I barely got you to agree to be me for Neville's ball!”
“Because it was ridiculous!” cried Draco.
“You made my life quite difficult, Mr Potter, when you asked him for that favor,” said Miss Parvati Patil.
“Your life, Parvati!” exclaimed Hermione. “And mine?”
“You found the love of your life!”
“And so have you!” returned Hermione, glancing at Miss Weasley, who had come to stand by Miss Patil's side.
“Do you mean to say, Miss Patil,” said Draco, “that you organized that house party—so that you might—”
“I did it for propriety’s sake,” said Parvati primly, but she exchanged a sly look with Ginny.
“Infamous!” remarked Fred. He had perched himself upon the prosecution’s table while George sat with his feet propped up on it.
“Want to hear another secret about your house party, Malfoy?” said George. “We saved one just for you, didn’t we, Fred?”
“Sure did, Fred.”
“We always—”
“Out with it!” ordered their sister.
"Yes, Ginny dear. Well, Malfoy, we always knew it was you.”
"It's those damn shifty eyes, I tell you.”
"Yes, those shifty Malfoy eyes."
"But Harry does that too!" exclaimed Draco.
"No! He watches the exits, the windows. It's you, clever Draco Malfoy, always looking at the faces."
“You—you knew when you took my hair!”
“Most definitely."
"You didn't think we believed Pocket Horses were a good idea for field missions, did you?”
"You certainly seemed to!"
"A damn stupid idea, if I do say so myself. Can't imagine what anyone would need a Pocket Horse for in the field."
"We never liked making weapons. Bit of a waste of our talents, if I'm telling you straight."
"But as a toy—!"
"The hair, that's the best part. Every child will want their own!”
"Next I was thinking we might do Puffskeins.”
"For the witches! They can't all be mad for horseflesh like Gin.”
“And Thestrals for Christmas! To pull little curricles!”
"The look on your face, Malfoy, when you first saw it!”
"What's all this?" said Harry.
“Malfoy’s Pocket Horse,” said George proudly, and to Draco’s surprise, he produced Harry the Horse from a pocket. “Ministry just bought a few thousand, courtesy of you, Harry. Or who was pretending to be you, at any rate. Dead useful. A small horse, sits in your pocket, if you let it.”
“Don’t,” muttered Draco. “It might chew through your robes.”
“Did it?” interjected Neville Longbottom. “I thought you weren’t much for clothes!”
“Don’t tell me you knew, too!” exclaimed Draco.
“I wouldn’t have,” replied Mr Longbottom. “But Harry warned me, actually. Said you might get into some trouble otherwise if people found out!”
“Kind of you not to tell me who else knew, Potter!” said Draco acerbically.
But Mr Potter appeared not to hear, for he was busy staring at the horse which Mr George Weasley held in his hands. “My god, what is that abomination?”
“My horse, Harry, of course!”