"A Vita In Muneris ut Alius"
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and former Mugwump of the Wizengamot stopped me before I stepped back into the Courtroom Ten. The Wizengamot had just finished deliberating after a trial that had lasted most of the morning.
I watched over Dumbledore's shoulder, as the eyes of the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, drifted over us in obvious disdain as he walked back into the courtroom. "Madam Bones," pled Dumbledore. "Amelia . . . You have to stop this. Please."
"I don't even know why you ask, Albus," I said. I felt sick to my stomach. "The deliberations are over. I made my voice heard when it counted but this is out of my hands."
I watched as Dumbledore's shoulders slumped in the moments before I turned and forced myself to walk into the courtroom. It was the first time I had ever seen Albus Dumbledore defeated. It was a frightening thought. Through those long dark days years ago, as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named ripped this country and most of the continent asunder, as he tore families apart, mine included, beneath the steel of Albus Dumbledore there had always been an innate sense of optimism. That in the end, we could, no we would, win.
No more.
What dark days are these?
The courtroom was dim, lit by firelight, like something out of the Inquisition. It was the largest courtroom in all of Wizarding Britain, and yet, as I walked up and took my seat at the head of the room with Cornelius Fudge and the rest of the Wizengamot my eyes drifted across the crowds that filled the room. And in the middle of the room, shackled to a chair sat a boy of only fifteen years old. His black hair was unkempt and his eyes seemed far older than his years.
"Hem-hem," the voice was that of a squat unpleasant woman off to Cornelius' left. "The room will come to order."
In a few moments the crowds had quieted and every eye in the house was on Cornelius as he shuffled the papers in his hands before settling them on the podium in front of him. The pause was as theatrical as everything else about Cornelius. I'm certain he decided long before he came into the courtroom how many times to shuffle the pages and how many heartbeats to keep the people in suspense.
"Harry James Potter," said Cornelius. "It is the decision of a legal majority of this Council that your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is . . . upheld. The violation of the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Magic is . . . incontrovertible, and the lies you concocted in your sad attempt to cover them up are . . . inexcusable.
"No dementors were ever in Little Whinging. Your attempt to somehow convince this court that there were is malicious and criminal. And in our final judgement this black stain upon your character will be taken to account.
"More troubling is the additional offense you are faced with before this tribunal. This charge being that of your wanton violation of the statute of secrecy. This law has been in effect since the very founding of the Wizarding World, and is one of the most sacred tenets we rest upon. The Wizarding World is a wondrous institution, looming far larger and far bigger in our hearts, in our esteem than anything we could possibly imagine. Most of us love this world, hold it even more precious than our very lives. People have died to protect it, your parents among them.
"The Wizarding World is far bigger than any one person. Far bigger than even your hubris.
"And it is in this respect that the callousness of your actions are laid bare. You cast a patronus charm in the middle of a muggle neighborhood, in wanton disregard to the veil of secrecy that protects both the muggles and the wizarding world in turn.
"A corporeal patronus, which is spectacular magic indeed. The spectacular nature of the magic is why your actions must be judged all the more harshly. You maliciously cast this charm in the presence of muggles in full knowledge that they were there and stood to bear witness. You freely admit to having cast it. I find myself feeling sad for you Harry. You had such . . . potential. Too bad that that potential lay buried beneath an immoral shell."
"We have no recourse, given your actions, given your lack of remorse, but to find you guilty of the crimes with which you have been charged. You are hereby sentenced to no less than two years in Azkaban. Your wand will be broken. May God have mercy upon your soul."
The tumult that swept over the courtroom was tremendous. I heard voices crying out at the injustice. I saw Arthur Weasley and Albus Dumbledore trying to make sense of this. There was no sense to be found. "How could you do this?" and "This isn't justice!" bled together in a terrible roar. Rita Skeeter was somehow in the front few rows, her expression was positively feral: "Full front page. 'Death Sentence? Minister casts Potter to the wolves'"
I have never been more ashamed to sit in this chair.
One small voice somehow made itself heard over the tumult.
"In Harry Potter's name I demand appeal!"
The words have come from a small girl, barely in her teens. I remember seeing her come into the courtroom, though she had been among many others. She should have been hard to miss with her bright, fiery hair. One of Arthur Weasley's many children. His youngest, if memory serves, and I certainly remember her. She had lagged behind the cluster of her siblings when they'd entered, alone, an island unto herself. Until moments ago she had been seated in the spectators seats behind Harry Potter.
The noise, for the moment, dies down.
Cornelius pauses for a few moments. "On what grounds?"
Tiny, insignificant Ginny Weasley seemed to stand tall.
"A vita, libere donatus in muneris ut alius!"
The Minister's eyes widened. He looked down at the girl standing on the floor beneath his pulpit with his mouth wide open. "You can't possibly be serious!"
"I am."
"But the price . . ."
"I am more than willing to pay."
To one side of Ginny, who seemed to be drawing everyone's attention Harry seemed to be trying to understand what the heck was going on.
"I will not allow this!" Cornelius was resolute. It was interesting to know that Cornelius Fudge could be resolute about something on his own accord, but seeing the girl sacrificing what she was of her own free will to satisfy her innate sense of right and wrong had to be galling.
"Foolish girl, stand aside." The grating voice of Dolores Umbridge, one of Cornelius' sycophants. "The Wizengamot has spoken."
"The girl is right," I interrupt before Cornelius and Umbridge can throw us even further into travesty. It is already a tragedy. God help us all. "Cornelius, you were able to wrest Mister Potter into this forum through methods of dubious legality but on the girl's appeal the law is certain. She speaks of ancient law, and it turns my stomach that she feels she has been driven to this, but even the Minister of Magic must walk within the law. They say the result of anyone trying to bend or break such ancient tenets is, to put it mildly, unpleasant. Those who have tried have wished for death before it was granted them."
Fudge, evidently tasting something sour, tried a different tack. "How do we know the circumstances exist for the girl to even be capable of making such an appeal."
Ginny, her eyes having been darting back and forth between Cornelius and myself to follow the political hot potato she had thrown out, spoke, "I believe I read about spells to indicate . . ."
"There is no need," I interrupt. I try to smile kindly at the girl, but knowing what lies in store at the end of this makes it feel incredibly shallow. "I remember your testimony under veritaserum two summers ago when you yourself stood accused before this tribunal. I have no doubt that such circumstances exist."
Cornelius appeared to be trying to keep his lunch down as he digested the tragedy that this had all become. Too bad he didn't see the tragedy in all of this before Ginny Weasley made herself known. Before he dragged Harry Potter into this courtroom on overinflated charges.
How did it come to this?
"Very well," with those words Cornelius seemed broken. He was a man knowingly in the commission of the very gravest of sins, and yet trapped by it. "Mister Potter you are free to go. Your wand will be returned to you as soon as circumstances allow. You will be free to meet your classmates at King's Cross on the first of September and return with them to Hogwarts."
A visible weight seemed to lift from Harry Potter's shoulders and some of the life seemed to return to his eyes. The shackles suddenly popped open and fell from his wrists. The shackles lay there limp on their chains against the sides of the chair. After a moment for it to all sink in I can almost see the barest hint of a smile. Dear God, he had no idea of the hammer stroke that is about to fall.
Cornelius looks over at me, a plea written in every line in his face. He had no qualms about sentencing Harry, but this, dear god this! The man really is a coward. A dog led around on its leash.
This is his mess. He dragged Harry Potter in here when he wished to crucify the boy, but when it all goes wrong he passes it off to me. This tragedy laid bare before me like a realization. I fought Cornelius about Harry. This wasn't right. What I didn't realize at the time was that I should have resigned before I walked in here for Cornelius' little puppet show.
I know my job. I know the law, and am trapped by it, by this monster of Cornelius Fudge's making. With little apparent effort I open my mouth and speak.
"Ginevra Weasley, you stand convicted in verto, your plea being a life given freely in exchange for a debt of life. You shall take the punishment in Harry Potter's stead."
"What?" Harry is suddenly wide eyed. "Ginny, no!"
One of Ginny's brothers wakes up to the event as Harry has,"Ginny, what the hell are you doing?" The young boy tries to rush forward to save his sister from her chosen fate but is quickly immobilized by a fast acting auror.
I continue, "You are hear by expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft as Wizardry. Your wand, which you surrendered before entering this court, will be broken. You will spend no less than two years, confined within the deepest hells of Azkaban. May God forgive us."
Two large aurors, had taken hold of each of Ginny's arms and were holding the tiny girl in place as if to prevent her from fleeing. Ginny, of course, tries nothing of the sort. She just stands there with her head held high. She will accept her fate.
The dear, foolhardy girl. God save us all from the blind, foolish idealism of the young. She is like the heroes in the fairy tales, standing up in the face of unearthly horror just because it is right. I find myself feeling awed by her youthful enthusiasm for her chosen cause even as I am horrified by it. I suddenly feel every one of my advancing years.
"Do you have any final words before you are taken to your rightful place in Azkaban?" Never, in all of my long years on the Wizengamot have I choked on those words as I do today.
I see a faint tremble in Ginny's slight frame. So she is terrified, as she should be. But she doesn't let her fear overcome her. "I do this of my own free will," she says. "To save us from an injustice. Harry's friends and I looked through so many books, trying to find a way to save him from you people." The accusation in her eyes fell hardest on Cornelius to little effect. "What we found was that we couldn't, not if you were so enthusiastic to convict him in spite of the evidence. Tom Riddle . . . Voldemort, has returned. You turn your back on this. You turn your back on the truth. And it will kill us all if it continues much longer. Harry's word is enough for me. He has earned my unswerving loyalty. To the gallows and beyond."
I watched as she looked over at Harry. Their eyes held each-other's. Harry seemed awed by her, even as the tears ran down his cheeks.
Cornelius clenched his jaw. "Take her away."
Their gaze was wrenched apart.
Now Ginny kicked. Now she fought, as the aurors dragged her from the room. "Stand up and fight, while you still have something worth fighting for! For Harry! Don't let Voldemort win! Fight the Death Eaters tooth and nail! Let them bleed for everything they get! For Harry!"
From the corners of the court I could swear I heard other voices join in her battle cry but no faces stood out as my eyes swept across the crowd. "For Harry!"
For Ginny.
God help us all!