Harry was worried. Of course he grieved for Dumbledore, but most of all, he felt overpowering, seething hatred for Snape and Malfoy. In his mind, he should have let Draco die that day at the bathroom, and take Snape with him. To him it didn't matter that it looked like Dumbledore was going to die anyway, nor did it matter how much Albus cared for slimy Malfoy, if anything, it made the hatred burn deeper.
Two weeks after the ignominious end of the school term, he received a summons to appear before the Wizengamot to discuss some legal affair. Wearily he made his way to the Ministry, went under using the phone booth, and leapt with joy when he found Hermione and Ron. Together they speculated about what this was all about.
The Appellant observed all newcomers, noting with interest that the minimum quorum was exceeded. What they deliberated had the force of law. He was especially grateful for Mrs. Bones and Mr. Diggory's assistance in setting up the audience; he was glad his friendship with their sons and daughters had led to fruitful exchange of ideas.
Many people had a distorted opinion of his beliefs and principles, a faulty opinion which he cultivated assiduously, to influence two set of people, the darkest dark and the lightest light, which, at the end, had very much in common.
Meanwhile, secretly in plain air, he had a network of trusted friends and advisors, much like Harry Potter, only their relationships had to remain hidden. This commingling of friends, these sharing of the spotlight, would have taxed and destroyed someone lesser, as it is, it wearied him no end, and it was a proximate cause for what would happen today.
When Amelia Bones saw everyone important present, even the current Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, who looked sullen, she said, "we are reunited at last."
Harry said, "Why are we all here, I note Mrs. McGonagall, Tonks, and Kingsley are here, is it some kind of emergency?"
A firm voice drawled authoritatively, "It is an emergency for me."
They all turned to look at the speaker, and beheld a young man with fair hair like the sun, surrounded by his friends. Before the insults started flying and wands appeared, he said, "Madame Bones, I request a Lord Appellant's summary trial, to clear up the wounding and unfair things done to my name."
Many people in the light side snorted and coughed indignantly. The Appellant made a bet with himself that the one to speak first with utter scorn would be the Weasel or Potter. However, it was Scrimgeour who answered, "The nerve of you, you slimy Death Eater scum, you Slytherin swine, I will have you in Azkaban and kissed soon!"
Mrs. Bones said, speaking as if the words of the Minister had not been pronounced, "For a Lord Appellant to be granted audience, you must have 7 Ayes from the current Wizengamot. Are there people who will stand by young Mr. Malfoy?"
Slowly, a trickle of traditional Slytherin families voted yes, but there were only 5 of them. Scrimgeour, Harry and Ron looked smugly on.
However, their look disappeared when Mrs. Bones said, "I speak for the accused, Draco Malfoy, so that he might have a proper Lord Appellant's trial!"
There was only one person left: Amos Diggory, and Harry could have danced with joy, for if there was one person in Britain who must hate Malfoy more, he couldn't find them. So it came as a complete shock to Harry when Diggory said, "Aye, I support the Malfoy lad, may he find strength in the Lord Appellant's trial."
Harry could only mutter, "How could you? Cedric must be spinning in his grave; you are in favor of his worst enemy."
Diggory replied, "Cedric and Draco were good friends. I reckon Draco would've been a good lad for my Cedric."
Harry was about to reply indignantly when he realized what was implied. So Cedric was gay! Cedric and Malfoy were friends. From there his mind imagined Draco kissing Cedric passionately, Draco going down on Cedric, all thoughts about the judgment disappeared, and he was grateful that he was wearing his ceremonial robes that would serve to hide any unduly excitement.
While Draco was observing the gobsmacked expression of the light paladins, and noting how glazed Potter's eyes suddenly got, Madame Bones stepped back and intoned, "The conditions having been met, the Lord Appellant Draco Malfoy will present his case before the Wizengamot Chamber."
Scrimgeour said, "That slimy, good for nothing, we must not hear him, his case is forfeit, it is needed so."
Draco replied urbanely enough, "The Minister is wrong, like his classless descriptions. My case is not forfeit, not until the Wizengamot decides so, nor does my being forfeit benefit the commonweal."
Draco knew what he was doing, the invocation of the trial entailed conforming to traditions that were centuries old, among them, politeness. Draco being polite and truthful was helping his case, while Scrimgeour being himself, crass and vain, could only hurt the prosecution's case.
Next, Draco intended to ensure that that case was destroyed. He gestured towards where Blaise was standing protectively around a device. He said, "I want to present to the Wizengamot my first proof. A Pensieve containing a memory of Albus Dumbledore!"
"Won't you have Tonks and Shacklebolt step forward, scan the memory and compare it to the known magical signature of Dumbledore?"
In a question of minutes, it was done, and Tonks announced that it was indeed, Dumbledore's memory and had not been tampered with.
The Wizengamot was awed to be able to be present at a memory of the great Albus Dumbledore, while the side of light awaited developments with bated breath. Harry was especially nervous about seeing his Mentor. He had no idea how old the memory was.
Draco flicked the Pensieve to exposition mode and started showing the memory.
Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, Fawkes on his perch, he was writing some documents. Harry could see that it was this year because his hand was still useless. Then the door was swung open and Draco came in. He looked really bad, with bags under his eyes and having lost a lot of weight, like he did that year. He also looked very pissed. He started yelling:
"I'm tired of it all, Albus. You said the wine was harmless, and I almost killed Weasley. You said the jewelry was inoffensive and I almost killed Bell. Heck, if I wanted to kill, I would have joined Voldemort as my family wanted and not try to work with you."
"It's been a year and a half, and you still don't trust me. May I remind you that if it weren't for me you would have lost Potter in the Department of Mysteries?"
Dumbledore stood and went near Draco, he said, "It hurts me to cause you more pain, Mr. Malfoy, but there are things you are not supposed to know right know, or the war we wage will be lost. I know you despise killing, and right now it seems that Voldemort and I are urging, nay conspiring together, to force you to do it."
"I know that when the times comes you will do the right thing, as you have done throughout your school career. You are a true protector. Shadow reborn, my Child of Dark."
Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling, and it was easy to tell that he cared a lot for the young blond; his body language was exactly the same he used with Harry. Potter could only see and feel the knife of jealousy twisting through his guts, finding a new reason for hating Malfoy, as if he needed any.
After the memory ended, everyone took some time to refresh themselves, until Scrimgeour called, "I haven't seen anything that makes me change my mind about that slimy good-for-nothing boy Malfoy. Who knows where that memory has been?"
Malfoy looked predatorily at Scrimgeour with a feral smile. "Indeed. I can offer another memory, and I submit that its location should please our renowned Minister in his infinite wisdom."
"There is a keyed obliviate waiting for the password to dislodge the memory. It's on Potter, and only I can trigger the memory. So if he is willing and is not afraid of what his mind does not show him, perhaps Tonks and Shacklebolt will extract the memory so that we can view it. The speed is because the Headmaster, who performed the Obliviate, told me Potter was extremely enraged by it, perhaps he will be so again, and if so I want it to be known before the person is affected."
Harry was angry, but also curious. What could be so important that he threatened to erupt over it and the Headmaster had to Obliviate him? Sure, his magic ran wild from time to time, when it (conveniently) suited him. Still, this promised to be bad business, especially if it had anything to do with Malfoy.
After consulting Harry, Mrs. Bones agreed. Tonks and Shacklebolt were on his sides when Draco got near him and muttered "Lemon Drops!"
Immediately he grasped a Gestalt of the situation, the idea fully blown, like Athena being born from Zeus's head, before it was immediately shut off as if by a switch. So they got the memory. He only remembered bewilderment and revulsion.
Tonks and Shacklebolt got near the Pensieve and put the memory in it. There was no need to ID the originator, because they had all seen it being taken from Harry himself.
The Pensieve got into presentation mode.
Harry was walking up to the Headmaster's office. He pushed open the door, sat down and said warily, "Ron's out of danger. Still, he and Katie, they could have died, and Malfoy is guilty, I know!"
Dumbledore said, "You don't know that, Harry, he might be innocent."
Harry, "No, he's a slimy git who is forever guilty of awful crimes! There's nothing redeeming about him. I loathe him! I wish he and his loathsome parents were dead!"
Dumbledore, although patient, had obviously gotten to the end of his rope, "What happened at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, Harry?"
"Err, Voldemort returned?"
"And at the end of the school year, seated where you are now, Draco Malfoy offered to work for the Light, to spy for us, even though it's torture if they ever get him."
Harry was speechless. Dumbledore relentlessly continued, "At the Department of Mysteries, you must have thought it a wonderful coincidence that we passed by. It wasn't. Draco guided us there. He was almost found, Harry, and that won't do.
"It won't do because he is one of the Children of Prophecy."
Harry asked stupidly, "What?"
Dumbledore continued, "There is more than one prophecy concerning Voldemort and his fate. Professor Trelawney made other prophecy shortly after the first; only I know the contents, and now you: "The Child of Dark holds the balance of the worlds in his hands; his will commands the battlefield, though he does not fight. His mercurial sight reveals all. Woe betides us if the Children of Dark and Light meet before their time. Free of his shackles, the Child of Dark assumes his true heritage."
"What makes you think this is Malfoy?"
"Notice the mercurial sight and Draco, keen grey eyes. Draco's will does indeed command battles, even though he does not fight, only informs."
Harry asked, "But that part about children of Dark and Light meeting before their time, you must have taken that to heart. You did everything you could to avoid this, even sending me to Muggle caretakers!"
"Please Harry, that had to do with the wards. Don't blame it all on Draco! For a long time now, you've had the tendency to ascribe all your problems to Draco, conveniently allowing you to persist in irrational ideas. I beg you to reconsider this course or action, or it will be your downfall."
"You like Malfoy more, is that it?"
"It doesn't matter, Harry. What matters is that if you win against Voldemort, and Draco is not there to approve or disapprove, it won't matter. What's important is that Draco is the decisive player of the war, and we've got him."
With this statement, Harry got so enraged that things in the office started breaking up. Dumbledore noticed and cast a low-key Obliviate.
When the memory ended, the Wizengamot stood entranced, staring at Draco, who'd gone from being a real walking cadaver to becoming their Saviour.
Not all were so pious. Scrimgeour asked snidely, "If you play such an important role, boy, why reveal it now?"