Author's Note: Please, Review
Following the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry is suffering from survivor's guilt and is determined to do his part in putting the castle back together. But a letter from the new Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, takes him back to the Ministry. There he finds out that he is to participate in the Death Eater Trials. Harry, Ron and Hermione are key witnesses will put away all the Death Eaters for a very long time. But disturbingly Harry learns that the Wizengamot, backed by the Ministry, has something else in mind for the Malfoy's. They want to make an example of the Malfoy's to warn other wizards what happens when personal discontent goes too far. Now Harry must decide to help a dark wizard family that almost helped bring about the destruction of the wizarding world he knew or let them face a drumhead trial more intent on making a statement than seeking truth.
Harry Potter and The Death Eater Drumhead Trials
Chapter one
The Pieces
They left the Headmaster's office and carefully picked their way around the debris and ruin to get to Gryffindor Tower. It wasn't easy. Since the moving staircase was destroyed they had to use secondary staircases to get to the fourth floor. But they made it, bid each other goodnight and headed off to their dorms. Inside their room, Harry found a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice on his bedside table. He smiled at Ron, who smiled back, and approached the tray. His stomach grumbled loudly. A thought occurred to Harry and he stopped suddenly. "Kreacher!" Harry called loudly.
Ron, already working on the nearest sandwich, stopped too. "What? What's the matter?"
A sudden pop filled the quiet room and Kreacher bowed low before Harry. "Yes, Master Harry?" Kreacher was now wearing his Hogwarts Tea Towel Uniform with Regulus's locket tucked safely away. The uniform was spotless and crisply ironed. He looked fresh and ready for the day ahead as though the last eight hours were a figment of imagination.
"Kreacher, please bring Hermione something to eat, she's probably hungry too." It didn't occur to Harry how hungry he was until food was actually before him. His stomach grumbled loudly again and he began eating hungrily.
"Kreacher already has done that, Master Harry." He said as he poured two glasses of pumpkin juice. He gave one to Harry and then one to Ron who continued to eat.
This surprised Harry. Was it common for house elves to anticipate the needs and considerations of their masters? Harry wasn't sure. "You did?"
"Of course, Master Harry. All Hogwarts house elves are preparing breakfast for students and teachers."
"Oh," Harry said. He assumed everyone would be just as tired as he was as they were up all night as well. Evidently this was not the case. Harry chewed on his sandwich and felt exhaustion sweep over him. His whole body ached furiously. His arms suddenly felt too heavy to lift. His feet, too weak to stand on.
"Kreacher will let Professor McGonagall know that you and your friends are here in Gryffindor Tower, will that be all, Master Harry?" Harry looked at the house elf and wondered if Kreacher could read his thoughts.
"Ah, right, Kreacher, thank you." Kreacher bowed low again and left with a pop. Ron grabbed another sandwich and they ate together in silence.
"What are you going to do now?" Ron said after a few minutes of contemplating the subject himself.
"I don't know." Harry said and he really didn't. His plans didn't go any further than defeating Voldemort. The last seven years of his life seemed to culminate to that point. What was he going to do now? "Finish school, I guess. What about you?"
"Yeah, Mum, will want me to finish school too. After that, who knows?" Ron began unlacing his trainers and Harry followed. Exhaustion was hitting him hard now and he felt his eyes burn unwilling to stay open any longer. He couldn't think straight anymore. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
Harry relived the Battle of Hogwarts in his dreams now. Only this time they suffered unthinkable defeat. Voldemort and his Death Eaters seemed invincible. Nothing Harry did had any effect on them what so ever. And they attacked with out mercy. Harry watched helplessly as his friends and teachers and other defenders of Hogwarts were tortured in unspeakable horrific ways until they begged for death. Then Voldemort rounded him and Harry suddenly found himself wandless. He panicked as he frantically searched for his wand. He looked away only for a second but it was too late, Voldemort had struck.
Sweat poured down his face as Harry jolted awake. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know where Voldemort was but he was sure he was close. His heart seemed to want to explode out of his chest. Harry looked around and realized he was in his bed in Gryffindor Tower. The room was very dim, almost dark. Ron was snoring peacefully in his own bed and there was no sign of Voldemort anywhere. Then it suddenly came back to him and he relaxed. Taking a few breaths, he reached for his glasses and put them on. His heart was slowing down now as he sat on the edge of his bed feeling around for his trainers. He put them on and headed out the door. Harry noticed on his way out that sometime during the morning Neville and Seamus had come in and were now sleeping. He wondered how many others were still here. Closing the door quietly behind him, he made his way downstairs to the common room and found it empty. Harry needed to hear the latest news but so far there was no one to give him any.
Harry stepped out from the portrait hole. He didn't see the Fat Lady sleeping in her portrait against the tree within her painting. Still, he closed it quietly not wanting to disturb the stillness of the castle. The castle stood dim and strangely cold. He shivered, but wasn't sure if it was from the cold or the shock. There was ruin everywhere. His stomach contracted a bit and Guilt, who was now his constant companion, hung over his shoulder making sure Harry saw everything. The moving staircase, although not moving, was now repaired to where it was usable to get to Gryffindor Tower. As he carefully descended the stairs, he saw sections of the castle that were torn apart by the giants. Bits of the night sky were visible from within. When he reached the bottom he was greeted by Sir Nicholas who was stationed at the entrance doors.
"Hello, Sir Nicholas, What are you doing here?" Harry asked. The ghost looked unruffled as he drifted to Harry.
"Harry! Good to see you!" A smile spread over the ghost's face as Harry approached him. "Professor McGonagall asked me and the other house ghosts to keep watch around the castle for the night.' He explained. "There have been owls and visitors all day as you can imagine."
"Where is Professor McGonagall?" Harry wanted some news.
"She's resting now. Poor woman was up all day. If you want, Professor Flitwick is in the Great Hall."
"Thanks, Nick" Harry said as he turned to leave.
Professor Flitwick heard his footsteps as Harry walked in. He was at the Ravenclaw House table at the end closest to the door. Just further down the table were trays of food for anyone wishing to eat.
"Harry! Come in, Come in. Eat something." Professor Flitwick said gesturing to the trays. Harry, still hungry, helped himself, digging into the nearby roast.
"Thanks, Professor." He said pouring a glass of pumpkin juice.
At the table where the Charms Teacher stood was parchment in piles everywhere. Although dressed in fresh robes, he still looked tired. The little teacher stood on the bench to get a clear view of the parchment he was sorting through.
"What are these?" Harry asked sipping his juice. He saw letters with Ministry seals on some of them and others he didn't recognize.
"Developments from the Ministry, some are letters offering help to repair the castle." He pulled out two pieces of parchment. "This one from Beauxbaton Academy and this one," he said indicating the other one. "This one's from Durmstrang, each offering to lend us their caretakers to help repair and fortify the castle again." Harry was unsettled by all the damage done to the castle. It seemed all that was holding it up was the magic surrounding it. And even though he knew it wasn't his fault, that no one would blame him and that something like this was bound to happen anyway, he felt the great weight of guilt, like he personally pulled apart the castle brick by brick. He was thankful, at least, that the talk about repairing the castle was in positive terms and that there were so many people willing to help.
"So," Harry started wanting to change the subject. "What's happening now?"
"Right now everyone is sleeping. The house ghosts are out roaming the castle and the grounds for anyone we might have missed and keeping watch for anything approaching the castle." Professor Flitwick went back to organizing his parchment.
"You mean there are still people out there?" Harry said surprised.
"Harry, it's very dangerous out there. The house ghosts along with the Centaurs are combing the forest, if anyone is there, we'll find them." He pulled a piece of parchment from the pile. "I got a letter from the Minister himself about you."
This caught Harry by surprise. What did Kingsley want from him? "What is it?" Harry said putting his fork down and drawing closer to get a better look.
"The Minister wants your testimony for the Death Eater Trials. He didn't go into details but he will be talking to you about participating." Death Eater Trials, thought Harry. Made sense, most of the Order of the Phoenix will likely to be used to give testimony against the Death Eaters. What Harry knew will put most of them away for a long time. He thought about the Malfoys, what they were reduced to and wondered briefly what will happen to them.
"What's going to happen next?" Harry asked putting more food on his plate. After weeks of near starvation, he was felt like he was making up for lost calories.
"Professor McGonagall will be addressing the whole school in the morning after breakfast." He sifted through the parchment again. "Here are her notes." He put on his glasses and began to read. "Mr. Filch has surveyed the damage inside and outside the castle and has given a first things first list. She'll assigned cleaning crews for that. St. Mungo's and Madam Pomfrey will be releasing students starting tomorrow."
"St. Mungo's?"
"A team of Emergency Healers were dispatched earlier today from St Mungo's to assist Madam Pomfrey with the dead and injured." Explained Flitwick.
"Professor Flitwick," Sir Nicholas was suddenly there at the table. Neither Harry nor Flitwick has noticed him coming. "They're on their way here now."
"Who?" Harry asked.
"The search party." answered Nicholas. Flitwick had set his parchment aside and climbed off the bench.
"Search Party? Search Party for who?" asked Harry, getting up too.
"Professor Snape." Professor Flitwick and Nicholas answered together and hurried out the Great Hall. Harry followed.
Professor Flitwick opened the entry doors by magic and the three of them stood in the doorway listening for signs of the coming search party. It wasn't long before Hagrid could be heard in the distance. Harry strained to see something but it was a very dark night now and he was unable to see them until they were almost upon them. Professor Snape was brought in draped in a black cloth. Hagrid carried him. Fang was with him barking loudly at Harry demanding attention. There were two other wizards Harry didn't recognize with Hagrid. Professor Flitwick led them all down to the infirmary where they were greeted by the healer in charge.
"Another one?" The Healer asked leading them to an empty examining table.
"Yes, I'm afraid, this is Professor Snape." Flitwick said
Hagrid gently placed Snape on the table and the Healer named Parsons pulled the black cloth revealing Snape's face. It was bloodless and Harry could tell rigor mortis was settling in. His eyes were closed now and all the blood was cleared away.
"Looks like he was bit by something nasty. Does anyone know how he died?" Parsons asked. All eyes turned to Harry.
"He was bit by Voldemort's snake." Harry said and there were audible gasps from the wizards present.
"I remember Arthur Weasley being bit by that snake. Terrible. Terrible." Parsons said shaking his head as he covered Snape back up. "Well, I'll take care of him. Does he have any relatives that we should contact?"
Professor Flitwick who was standing on a near by chair replied, "His employment records should be in the Headmaster's office. I'll let Professor McGonagall know you'll be needing to speak to her."
"That should be it then, if you'll leave me to my work now." As they were all politely dismissed by Parsons, Harry turned to leave, he caught Hagrid's eye.
"Blimey, Harry, I figured you'd be sleeping still." Hagrid said softly as they were leaving the infirmary. He was limping slightly. There were cuts and gashes on his arms and face and bruises everywhere. But he didn't seem to notice.
"Can't sleep." Harry mumbled. Hagrid looked down sideways at Harry. And Harry knew that Hagrid understood. When they reached the Entrance Hall, Professor Flitwick returned to the Great Hall and the other wizards bade them good night giving them privacy.
"I'm so proud of ya, Harry." Hagrid said facing Harry and placing a large hand on his shoulder.
"Don't say that!" Harry said harsher than he meant. But Hagrid didn't seem to mind. He looked down at Harry and sighed. Harry didn't feel proud. He wanted to feel happy, but he wasn't happy. He wanted to feel like he deserved all the praise he was getting, but he didn't.
"It's ok Harry. You're still tired, a little in shock, we all are. It'll pass, it will. You'll see. When the castle is put back to rights and things return to normal, you'll feel better."
Harry wished he shared Hagrid's optimism. But at the moment things looked too overwhelming. At the moment he wished he could fast forward into the future to that point where everything was ok. Admittedly, he was tired still. And he knew he was moody because he was tired. Maybe Hagrid was right, he decided. He knew Professor McGonagall was not about to leave the castle in this state too long. There was loads of work to do and a new term to prepare for. Harry took a lot of comfort in this and despite being tired, he felt better.
"Best be goin' back to bed now, Harry. There's a lot to do tomorrow and Professor McGonagall will be wanting to start early." Hagrid said.
"I'll see you at breakfast Hagrid, thanks." Harry said turned to climb back up the stairs.
When he reached the Gryffindor common room, his thoughts turned to a different subject. He thought about Professor Snape. Harry sat hugging his knees on the sofa in front of the fireplace, watching the flames dance between the logs. Little things were starting to make sense. All this time Harry thought Snape hated his father because James was everything Snape was not. Perhaps in part, but mainly he was jealous of his father's interest in his mother. Harry wondered how it didn't occur to him before. All the signs were there, but he didn't see it. You'd never believe it, he thought to himself, never in a million years. It was amazing enough to consider that they were even friends. Best friends. It was even more incredible to believe that Snape was secretly in love with her. Did she know? Harry thought. Probably, he concluded. He had to believe that his mother was not a mindless idiot. Still, it couldn't have been easy being friends. Gryffindors and Slytherins were traditionally adversaries. He knew his mother had endured her share of ridicule and questions. It wasn't hard to imagine Snape going through it too. But it didn't last. The Levicorpus incident put things in perspective and his mother had broken their friendship. Did she regret it? Did she miss their friendship? Harry didn't know. Then his mother began dating his father. Still Snape loved her. They had chosen different sides to a growing war, still he loved her. She and his hated rival married and started a family, still he loved her. She died, still he loved her. Harry wondered if Snape had blamed his Dad for their deaths. Snape had always said his Dad was reckless and arrogant. Was he being reckless and arrogant then? Harry wasn't sure. Remus said that his father would have considered it the height of dishonor to mistrust a friend. Harry couldn't believe that Wormtail was that good of an actor. Maybe his father just plain ignored signals and gut feelings, or worse, other people's doubts. Did he know it was Wormtail in the end? Or did he go on foolishly believing that his closest friends were loyal to him? And through only the most horrific forms of torture would ever make any one of them betray him. Harry hoped not. He had to admit that his father, although a very good man, was reckless and arrogant and a bit naïve.
Harry wiped away a tear that had escaped and rolled down his face. Sitting alone in the dark, he allowed himself to grieve his parent's deaths. They've been gone a long time but he had never mourned them. It seemed right to do it now, now that he knew more about how they died. Now that it was finally over. It was an achingly wonderful release to finally cry. He came really close standing with Hermione at the gravesite but something held him back. Maybe it was because of the stress he was under. Maybe he was too emotionally drained to feel anything. Or maybe because he was half starved, he didn't know. He didn't want to believe it was because of Hermione. He was grateful that she was with him that night. Finally, Harry figured, some things were just too private.