(A/N) I am attempting to rewrite the chapters that I had already put up before I start writing new ones. I am not very reliable, so we'll see how long that lasts. Reviews are always appreciated.

Harry sat stiffly on a hard bench, breathing heavily. It was hot, despite the cooling charms placed on the room, and the cloak was stuffy. He looked around himself for the first time, taking everything in. It was strange, he thought to himself, how different the courtroom was from the last time he had been there, and how it was also almost exactly the same. Anyone who entered the room for only a few minutes wouldn't notice the difference. He did, though. It was hard to forget this room.

Harry had been in the courtrooms only a few times before the war, and then it had been mainly through another mans' memories. Still, the subtle differences were striking. The high chair that had once been occupied by Umbridge was now Kingsley Shacklebolt's. The dementors that had lurked in the dark corners were gone, replaced with surly guards. Harry supposed the biggest difference was the fact that the courtrooms were again being used for their intended purpose.

He glanced around at the other occupants of the room, noting that he knew barely anyone. Some of the remaining Order members were clustered together at one side of the room, and he saw a few people he recognized from his years at Hogwarts. They must be there to watch, just like him. Harry noticed a young girl biting her nails and looking very scared. She was probably there to give evidence.

Harry had also been asked to speak at the trial (well, all the trials, actually) but he had refused on the principle that if the Wizengamat needed his testimony to prove the guilt of the criminals then they weren't doing their job properly.

Harry was rather sick of all the attention he was getting lately. It had been bad in his school days when he was just the Boy-Who-Lived. But now he was the Boy-Who-Defeated-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (which was a much longer and inconvenient name as well) and he was getting annoyed at all of the wizarding populating fawning over him. However, Harry was genuinely interested in watching the trials, as he wanted to personally see every Death Eater convicted. He was willing to testify if there seemed the smallest of chances that one would get off, but he very much doubted that would happen. At the moment, he had resorted to wearing his invisibility cloak so that he didn't get all the stares that accompanied his presence.

Today the trial was for Fenrir Greback. Harry was especially pleased with this, since Fenrir was extremely dangerous, with or without a wand. The increased muttering at the front of the benches alerted Harry of Fenrir's entrance. He was followed by two Aurors who pointing their wands at him while keeping a safe distance. Harry thought for a brief second that he could have been one of those Aurors, but then remembered all the reasons why he wasn't.

No one seemed to understand that Harry was done with fighting. He knew that now that he had saved wizarding Britain once, he was probably expected to do it again should the need arise, and Harry was prepared for that, but he was not going to do any unnecessary fighting. At the moment he was content with doing his part by helping to repair the damage done to Hogwarts. This provided him with free room and board and the added plus that all the teachers and repairmen knew him well enough to not act like they were in the presence of a god.

Harry's decision had not pleased many people. Ron and Hermione tried their best, but they just did not understand. Hermione had attempted to use very strange logic to convince him: "but Harry, don't you want to help people?" Ron had told his pragmatic view on the subject many, many times: "you have to be Auror; you rid the world of You-Know-Who!"

Harry had told them both repeatedly that he was not interested in being an Auror, and being the friends they are, they stopped bothering him… mostly. Ginny, however, had not been as accepting. She made it clear that one of the reasons she liked him so much was his hero complex, and she was thoroughly disappointed in him and his decision. They had had a rather large fight after he informed her that he had made up his mind, and they broke up.

The trial was now starting, and Kingsley began to speak. Normally, the Grand Mugwump of the Wizengamat would lead the trial, but as Kingsley was the Minister of Magic and a member of the Order, it was decided that he should preside over all the Death Eater Trials. On Kingsley's left a thin, red haired man began to take notes, looking harried and writing feverishly.

"Fenrir Greyback, you are here on the 24th of August for being a suspected Death Eater supporter," began Kingsley. Harry noticed how he narrowed his eyes at the word 'suspected' as well as how Greback snarled at the word 'supporter.' Harry knew that he would have liked to be more than a supporter.

He was sitting in the stone chair in the middle of the room, and at his snarl the chains clinked around him, securing his arms. Kingsley continued.

"We have many witnesses who claim to see you in the act of harming others in the name of Voldemort." Greback hissed at the name. Some of the Death Eaters still refused to say it, instead calling him He-Who-Will-Return. Obviously some of the Death Eaters were in denial. "The first witness, Jenna Hartfor, says that she saw you murder her family." The thin girl who Harry had noticed earlier stood up, shaking a little. Everyone turned to look at her. Kingsley gave a little nod of encouragement.

"He…he came into our house, and mother said to…to hide, so we did. Then he cornered her and papa in the room we were hiding… hiding in. He k-killed mother and papa in front of us, and Mary jumped out and she hexed him pretty bad, but then… then he killed her too. He said…" here she paused, taking in a deep breath, "he said 'the Dark Lord m-makes those unworthy pay.' And he put up the Dark Mark and left." Jenna broke into sobs and sat back down. A dark haired man patted her on the back, comfortingly.

"Jenna, are you sure the accused was the man you saw that night?" Kingsley asked, quietly. She nodded, crying too hard to reply.

Kingsley turned back to face the werewolf, muttering a spell. "Do you deny this happened?" Greyback shifted uncomfortably as he felt the enchantment wash over him.

"No," the disgusting man said with relish, "and they got what they deserved, little mudbloods-" Shouting broke out among those watching, and Kingsley raised his hands commandingly, silencing everyone. A small gold circle formed over Greyback's head indicating that he had told the truth.

The rest of the trial proceeded in much the same way, with witnesses taking turns to tell their gut-wrenching tales of death and destruction. Some were horribly gruesome: "and then he bit off me mum's arm, and he was laughin' like it was a joke or summit." Others were quick unemotional blurbs: "yeah, he comes to my house and he kills my kids, but I got him, that dirty bastard. Got him good right in the eye, didn't I?" They were all extremely sad stories of dying families and bitten children and the marked increase in the amount of werewolves.

Greyback was amazingly complaint, only lying when asked if he had been placed under the Imperius Curse. When he said yes, a red circle appeared over his head and Kingsley once again had to silence the onlookers. When the trial ended with a guilty verdict, he rose from the chair, laughing.

"You all just wait. He will return, and you will be very, very sorry." Kingsley just nodded at the Aurors, who escorted him out of the room. Greyback would be taken to Azkaban where he would be placed in a high security cell. Even though there would be no dementors to guard him, Harry was quite sure that he would not escape.

Harry left the courtroom feeling very satisfied.