By the time Harry had stepped into the Ministry chambers, the room was nearly silent. He felt sweat dribble down his brow as he stumbled into the seat beside Hermione.
"Hello," he whispered, "They're starting?"
"Almost," she replied, staring ahead to the center of the room, "They're waiting for a member of the opposition to arrive. Where've you been?"
He shook his head; he'd tell her later. It was the third anniversary of the battle, and he'd been at Hogwarts. He'd wanted to pay his respects to the memorial, as well as to the standing relatives of the fallen. He had to wonder why the Ministry had chosen today of all days for such a hearing.
"They think it's relevant, you know," Hermione said, as if reading his mind.
"What's relevant?"
"The date." She drummed her fingers on the wooden armrest. "They thought it might be more effective if people's minds… " She trailed off, shaking her head, "I tried to talk them out of it."
Harry nodded glumly. Despite the fact that he was both affirmative on the issue, and agreed with the part on people's minds, he thought it was cruel. People should be with their families.
"How's Ron?" Hermione asked nervously.
"Alright," Harry said, shrugging, "He's at the Burrow."
She bit her lip. "I'm going over straight after."
"Me too," Harry replied, "Andromeda's bringing Teddy over for dinner."
Hermione smiled. "And how's Ginny?"
Harry glanced at his lap; she'd been quite upset that morning. "I wish it was another day," he said, by way of answering. "She'd have liked this, I think. She would have been a good asset."
"Oh, I don't think you'll have any trouble."
He raised his eyebrows. As a Ministry official on law, she was supposed to remain unbiased. However, it was more than clear that all Ministry workers had taken sides. With the possible exception of the sentencing hearings, it was the most pivotal case that they'd seen in centuries.
"You're ready to speak?" Hermione asked, rubbing a hand over her face. The room was sweltering, with so many occupants. Everyone who had not had friends or relatives lost in the battle had shown up.
"McGonagall's here," Harry mused. She was one of the many teachers in the audience. "She's speaking?"
"No," Hermione replied, "Indecisive. Torn between tradition and the a better world, I suppose." The corners of her mouth folded, in the essence of a smile. "That's what this is, isn't it? A fight between the past and present."
"If that's it," Harry said quickly, noticing how the jury was taking their seats, "Then we've got nothing to worry about. Who could possibly say that things were better before?"
Hermione's answer was a mere breath, as conversation in the room fizzled away. "Those who are missing their children and siblings."
The entire crowd sat, stony and expectant, as a frumpy wizard stood upon the platform. "We are here today," he began, his voice a croak, "To discuss removing the sorting from Hogwarts Wizarding School." A ripple of murmur spread, and he waited patiently. They had prepared for numerous interruptions. "We will here from volunteering speakers of each side, and then the jury will deliberate."
He coughed into his fist a few times, before continuing. "The parties will alternate. And, we may reach the decision to postpone Hogwarts' sorting until a later year. First speaker, please stand." The wizard retook his seat, as the first affirmative speaker took the stand.
Harry squirmed. He hadn't thought of the idea of postponing. Overall, that would be best. They could still keep the nature of the houses, but without such rivalry. His mind raced, wondering if it was too late to change his speech.
His doubts were slowed to a halt as Susan Bones took the stand. She was still petite, with her mass of black hair nearly devouring her shoulder blades. She looked to be both miserable and in physical pain, and Harry marveled at the fact that she'd volunteered. But it was important to her, he knew. She took after her deceased aunt, in that unity and justice stood above all else in her moral system. Harry knew that she would be essential to the day, as she was one of the few young survivors to speak. Few others could bring themselves to do it, especially today.
Harry selfishly tuned out her speech. He could not handle hearing it, and he could tell that others could not either. Half the audience was fidgeting awkwardly in their seats, obviously oblivious, and the other half was attempting to discreetly wipe at their eyes. Five minutes in, and it was already too poignant to be taken with composure. Harry scanned the room in a desperate attempt to distract himself.
He saw the Draco and Narcissa in the far back. Evidently Lucius was still too scarred to be seen in the Ministry. Harry could say he had any true qualms with this, as hearing him speak would surely be the lowest point of the day. There was no chance that he'd speak to eliminate the precious Slytherin tradition, and Harry thought his temper might explode if he heard a Malfoy's drawling rebuttal. It just might send him over the edge on such a day.
He located a few other Hogwarts professors, Slughorn included. The squat man was sweating profusely, wearing a lopsided frown upon his face. He clearly wasn't hearing a word of Susan's, either.
As the quality of her voice grew tearful, Harry tried to think of other things. The remaining DA members, for one. With a few exceptions, they'd all stated that they were supporting, but would not be attending. Luna said she'd come, but wouldn't speak. Dennis shook his head, quietly mumbling about Colin's love for Gryffindor. Harry knew that if the boy possessed the spirit he once did, he would speak to keep the houses. Harry had almost encouraged him, despite the detriment to their plan, purely because he wanted to see Dennis in a place of importance. But Dennis… he'd become a lost cause after Colin's death.
At last, Susan gave a small bow and left the podium. She was shaking horribly, tears trickling down her pale cheeks. Harry watched as Professor Sprout embraced her and pulled her from the room. She had nobody else, Harry realized with a start. Her parents were gone and her friends, save Hannah, had been killed in the battle. Harry reminded himself to thank her later. She'd done brilliantly, and at her own expense.
A few minutes of silence leaked through the doors, as people sat in the lingering sorrow of Susan's words. Many people were already weeping, Hermione included.
Harry patted her arm awkwardly. "Don't worry. That should be the worst of it. Everyone else speaking is officials."
She sniffed, shaking her head. "Why did they do this?" she wailed softly, "Make it today? How could they do that?"
"I dunno." He sat in silence, contemplating the undying cruelty of the Ministry. They never failed to make everyone's lives a fraction harder. "Was Kingsley a part of it?"
Hermione shook her head. "No. He opposed it, being a Dumbledore man. But he believes in free speech, so he let the legal committee push it through." She dabbed at her eyelids, leaving Harry with his guilty thoughts.
Dumbledore man. He would have disapproved, most likely. Of eliminating the houses, at least. And yet, it was he who had trigged the idea. Who had spoke of postponing sorting, of discovering a student's true nature before defining them. Harry clenched his fists nervously, doubting the entire day. Perhaps they should not be arguing this at all. Perhaps they should only be speaking to delay the sorting, and the idea to eliminate it should not even be on the table. His head spun, as the arrow to his moral compass dilated round and round. They could not do this, not today and not ever.
A few more speeches went by. The opposing ones were mostly from the elderly, preaching about how tradition ought to be remembered. Harry listened along, nodding his head. He did not disagree, not at all. He loved the Gryffindor tradition, and everything that went with it. Without the rivalry, it would have been the peak of his adolescence. Without the rivalry. Ah yes, the reason they were bothering with this at all.
It was not for nearly an hour that anything of interest happened. None of the speeches succeeding Susan's had been particularly emotional, and the audience had recovered and lapsed into restlessness. They were waiting for the conclusion, which was possibly hours away.
And then, Oliver Wood took the stand. Harry's mind had been wandering, and it took him a moment to realize that he was speaking for the opposition. Wait, the opposition? No, that couldn't be right…
"Hi," Oliver began, his flushed face conveying his spiked nerves. "My name's Oliver Wood, and I graduated from Hogwarts a couple years before the battle. I play professional Quidditch for the –" He was interrupted, by a slew of clapping teenagers. They were girls, mostly, Harry noticed. He grinned, in spite of himself. Wood certainly attracted a large female demographic. The clapping ceased quickly though, and Harry thought he could use this to measure the gravity of the day. If it hadn't been this, they might have clapped for several minutes straight.
"So, erm," Oliver continued, a smile appearing and then disappearing from his face. "My good friend, Fred Weasley, was killed three years ago today."
Harry and Hermione simultaneously reached for one another's hands. They were glad none of the Weasley clan were here for this.
"And my point is," Oliver continued, "That he wouldn't have wanted this. Being a Gryffindor, it meant the world to him. He loved the house Quidditch cup." He smiled sadly. "He never would have wanted it to be gotten rid of and," Oliver paused, gulping visibly. "And I know not all of you want that either. Not really, anyway."
Harry glanced down to avoid Wood's gaze. Did he want to get rid of Gryffindor? No, not get rid of it. But make it easier, for the greater good of the next generation. He flinched, uncomfortably. Who was he to say what the greater good was?
"Also," Oliver continued, beginning to shy away from the podium, "I just ant you to know, that I don't just speak for himself." He gave a brief nod of his head, and the headed back to his seat.
"He doesn't just speak for himself?" Harry said, on the verge of anger. "What does that mean?"
Hermione sighed, doubtfully staring at the empty floor. "Harry," she said suddenly, turning back to him, "What did George say when we told him about the hearing?"
Harry thought hard. "He looked depressed."
Hermione nodded, "That's what I was afraid of."
"Why? It's because it's the battle anniversary, isn't it?"
"I'd thought that too… but it seems like," she shrugged. "What if he wanted to get a message across but didn't want to come today? What if he believes that Fred wouldn't have wanted this?"
Harry swallowed his fear; they had no evidence of anything. "I don't think that's it," he said stubbornly, "It couldn't possibly be." After all, the others were vehemently on their side. Ron had been enthusiastic, and Ginny proud. Percy had said that he'd serve favorably on the jury if it weren't for the date. Bill had… what had Bill done?
"What about Bill?" Harry asked. He knew that George and Bill were especially close, but he couldn't remember the oldest Weasley's reaction.
"I don't remember," Hermione admitted. "Did he say anything?"
"I don't know. Maybe he didn't, and that's why we're not sure."
"Maybe," Hermione agreed. "You think the two of them could have been against it?"
Harry shrugged. "I'd like to think not, but you never know. They might be speaking for Fred."
The two friends sat in silence; the same thought swimming through their minds. "What about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione asked, echoing Harry's thoughts.
"Congratulatory," Harry said uncertainly, "I'm almost sure of it."
"Really?"
"No, dunno," Harry said, honestly. He shifted his glasses up his nose, purely to have something to do.
"Mrs. Weasley told a story, didn't she?" Hermione said.
"I think so," Harry replied, "About –"
"I'm sorry," a witch in front of them said. She looked embarrassed. "But would mind being a little quieter? I can't hear what they're saying."
"Sorry," Harry and Hermione replied, in unison. They hadn't really been paying attention.
"It's alright," the woman said, turning back away from them. Harry and Hermione shut up, deciding to finish their conversation later.
Several more speakers delivered their statements, Harry silently agreeing with each one of them. It didn't seem as if anyone was wrong.
"From the affirmative position," the introductory wizard said, "Dolores Umbridge."
Harry felt his stomach leave him, falling down below them into the department of mysteries. What?
He and Hermione exchanged horrified glances. It couldn't be happening, it just couldn't.
She'd been removed from offices, Harry knew that much. She'd been more or less invisible since the battle, Kingsley and himself had seen to that. And yet here she was. Agreeing with them, for all of the world to see.
"I believe that the Hogwarts houses are harmful to the upbringing of our youth," she began. She seemed no different the before her ejection from the Ministry. Her hair was perfectly curled and filled with bows, her pink dress smug and ironed. Harry felt his stomach twist in anger.
"You know," he whispered, "I'm starting to doubt whether we've had the right idea." He saw Hermione nod, out of the corner of his eye. "If people like Umbridge agree, then maybe -"
"You realize this makes us just as bad as anyone else," Hermione replied, "Altering our opinion based on who agrees with us."
"I suppose," Harry said, stiffly.
"Just don't listen," Hermione said, "You'll get angry if you hear her."
Harry silently agreed, and tuned out the rest of Umbridge's speech. It seemed stupid, all of a sudden. As far as he could tell, nobody in the audience was listening to a word anyone said. They were all too afraid of how angry or upset it might make them, and so they ignored it all together. Then that was the problem, maybe. No one ever heard each other.
He could tell Hermione saw it too, by the way she frowned at everyone. He knew what she thought. If they were going to be here on such an important day, they should make the most of it.
Umbridge's speech finished rather abruptly, with a throaty, "Thank you." She delicately stepped downward, and was met with frail applause. She'd become rather an icon of hatred, now that Voldemort was gone.
The Ministry wizard climbed back up to the podium. "We have decided that it would be best to forgo a recess, so as to finish this within the hour." He bowed his head, silencing the sudden murmurs, "Our apologies, and thank you."
Harry glanced at the clock on the wall; three hours had passed. If there was only an hour left, that meant his turn was approaching. They'd scheduled him to go last, as some sort of symbolism.
"No recess?" Hermione replied, "I was going to floo Ron and see how he was."
"I'm sure he's fine," Harry lied. "He's with his family."
Hermione nodded, "Alright. But let's leave the moment after it's over, okay?"
A sudden thought struck Harry, and he turned, speaking as quickly as he could. "Hermione, who'd they pull from the Wizengamot?"
"What do you mean?"
"For instance, you're not serving. Percy's home… but who else did they pull?"
"No one," Hermione replied, quizzically. "I'm the only one who was underage during the battle, so I'm the only one who they thought might be biased."
"Really?" This seemed off, to him.
"Yes. And then those who've lost family aren't attending, of course. But other than that… everyone's here."
Harry glanced down at the jury. Nearly all of them were senior members, with a few exceptions. He had to wonder whether they held the bias of tradition.
"It's odd the way they're doing this, isn't it?" Harry asked.
"I don't know." They were whispering, as a speaker was now on the stand. "You mean with the speakers?"
"Yeah. Unusual for them. They usually like to have complete control."
"Kingsley's suggestion. He said that the Wizengamot ought to take the people's reactions into account. After all, it's them who this is affecting."
Harry thought it over. "That's right. You know, Dumbledore would have hated this."
"I know," Hermione replied, her eyes unexpectedly growing moist. "He hated when the Ministry became involved at Hogwarts."
"Yeah." They stopped then, listening but not hearing the speaker's words.
About twenty minutes later, Hermione spoke, "Harry, you're next."
He nodded, slightly held by nerves. He was as ready as he'd ever be. It was then that the door swung open.
They made an echoing boom as they slammed against the walls of the chamber, and all eyes turned.
There stood a disheveled Neville Longbottom, blushing and sidestepping in. "Sorry," he muttered, for anyone near him to hear. "Sorry."
He went over to the announcer and whispered something to him.
"I didn't know Neville would be here," Harry whispered, "I figured he'd be at Hogwarts."
"He was this morning wasn't he?"
"Yeah, but… I don't know, he'd never said anything to me about the hearing."
At last, the previous speaker finished, and the elderly announcer climbed back up in his place. "We have a brief change in plans," he said, "As we have one additional speaker proceeding Harry Potter. On the opposing side, Neville Longbottom."
Harry and Hermione looked at one another in a alarm. Opposing? How could he be? There was a rush of noise from the spectators. After the conclusion of the battle, one of Harry's main goals had been to make sure that Neville's heroism did not go unsung. He was recognized, interviewed, and received a number of awards from both the school and the Ministry itself. And so, when he took the stand, everyone applauded.
"Hello," he said, softly. For once, all ears were at attention. "I'm sorry for the last minute delay, I know you all want to get out of here. But I wanted to tell you why I'm against this." His eyes flickered guiltily to Hermione and Harry.
"Being a Gryffindor was the first time I felt proud of something. It was the first time that I belonged somewhere." He grinned sheepishly. "And maybe that sounds fake, but it's true. Hearing that I would be in the brave house was the proudest moment of my life."
He looked up. "That's not my real reason, though. I know… I know that that's enough to get in the way of uniting this generation. But honestly, I don't feel it will be effective." His expression suddenly shifted, becoming grim. "Look, when I was in my seventh year, it mattered whose house you were in. The Slytherins got the preferential treatment, and the rest of us didn't. And then… " He hesitated. "The DA," he said simply. "It saved us all, really. And who was a part of it? The Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Not the Slytherins. Now, I'm not trying to sound cruel. I know that not all Slytherins are bad. I'm just saying, that during the battle it mattered which house you were in."
He tried to smile again, and then turned around and headed to a seat. The spectators sat for a moment, before erupting into applause.
It wasn't that his words were so eloquent or moving, Harry thought. They didn't even make that much sense, the way he'd said them. But, it was an important point that they'd overlooked. What about the battle itself? What about being proud about your house?
"And now," the announcer said, his rusty voice slicing through the clapping, "Mr. Harry Potter."
Harry's mind raced in terror. He didn't want to give his speech anymore, but he couldn't very well improvise. He couldn't convey what he wanted to anymore, especially since he was no longer sure what he thought.
As he took the stand, resting his shaking hands upon the sweat-covered podium, a stroke of inspiration struck. "I know I was supposed to speak for the affirmative," Harry replied, "But I agree with everything Neville just said. Thank you." He stepped down, knowing that this hardly sufficed. It would have to though, as he wasn't prepared to say anything else.
Just like when Neville finished, there was silence and then sudden applause. Harry smiled to himself. Maybe things would work out, regardless of the verdict.
He returned to his seat beside Hermione, who squeezed his arm. "Brilliant," she murmured, "Brilliant." They'd both changed their minds, then; Harry felt a little better.
The room waited impatiently as the Wizengamot deliberated, each member looking serious and thoughtful.
After what seemed like hours, the spokesman wizard raised his hand for silence. "We have thought about this deeply," he said, "And after much consideration, we have decided to keep sorting at Hogwarts."
Some people whispered angrily, others cheered with abrupt spirit. All Harry wanted to do was find Neville and talk to him.
"This way," Hermione muttered, "I saw him go into the hall."
The two headed from the room, careful not to alert any reporters from the Daily Prophet.
Harry's mouth fell open as he stepped into the hall; nearly all of the DA was there waiting.
Hannah Abbott sat between Neville and Susan, a hand on each of them. Cho was there, standing in Michael Corner's arms. It was Luna who spoke first.
"Harry," she said, smiling brightly, "We heard. Are you pleased?"
Harry stood there, feeling their eyes on him. They'd agree so vehemently before. Would they be angry with him for swaying the verdict?
"Yeah, I am," he said at last. "Hogwarts shouldn't change." He worried for a moment that he'd upset them, but then noticed that they were all smiling at him.
"Alright, Harry!" Neville shouted, bounding towards him. He gave his friend an uncharacteristic hug, and grinned happily. "We all changed our minds this morning. We hoped that you wouldn't be angry with us."
"Of course not," Harry replied, "What made you change your mind?"
"The Weasley's," a few people said, in unison.
"They were Gryffindors for generations," Terry Boot chimed in. "And they probably want their kids there, right?"
Harry grinned slyly, as this concerned him. "I guess you're right," he said. He glanced at Hermione. No wonder George had opposed.
"Speaking of the Weasley's," he said, "We're heading over to the Burrow, alright? We'll come back over for the ceremony tonight."
People wished him farewell, and he and Hermione left the building together.
"Do you think Dumbledore would be happy?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah," Harry replied, "I do. He was always proud to be a Gryffindor."