Fiat Justitia
a Harry Potter fic
by Technomad
(I do not own Harry Potter; I'd be much wealthier if I did. This fic is set in the continuity of Thanfiction's Dumbledore's Army and the Year of Darkness.)
Kingsley Shacklebolt did not always enjoy being Interim Minister of Magic. One of his duties that he particularly did not like involved presiding at the trials of Death Eaters, and others who had aided the Dark Lord or his followers before their defeat at the hands of Harry Potter and his friends.
They had just finished sentencing Alecto Carrow. Her trial had attracted a good few spectators; in particular, her former victims from her tenure at Hogwarts had crowded the galleries, eager to see justice done. When the Dementors closed on her, dragging her out of the court, a cheer rose. Shacklebolt silenced it with a tap of his gavel and a stern look.
"Call the next case," he told the bailiff.
"The court shall now hear the case of Regina versus Xenophilius Arthur Lovegood."
Two Aurors hustled the defendant in. Xenophilius looked pretty bad; he hadn't been allowed to change his robes or freshen up, and under his eyes Shacklebolt could see dark circles. He didn't look like he'd eaten much in quite a while. Unwillingly, Shacklebolt felt pity, and remembered some lines from a Muggle "rock opera" that had been popular when he began his service with the Aurors:
Who is this broken man
Cluttering up my hallway?
Who is this unfortunate?
"This special court is now in session," Shacklebolt announced, and tapped his gavel to quiet the crowd. "Prosecutor, read the charges!"
The prosecutor stepped forward. "Minister, the prisoner at the bar stands accused of aiding and abetting the Death Eaters, by attempting to betray Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley into his hands when they came to him, believing him an ally of their side!"
The courtroom erupted. Cries of "Traitor!" and "Judas!" echoed off the walls. Shacklebolt raised his wand and gave the crowd a significant look, and they quieted. Nobody wanted to face off with him in a duel.
"These are very serious charges, Mister Prosecutor. I trust you have evidence?"
"I do, Minister." The prosecutor drew out several sheets of parchment. "I have the statements of several Death Eaters, sworn to and attested via Veritaserum, that on the afternoon of December 28, 1998, they received a message from Xenophilius Lovegood. In it, he stated that Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley had arrived at his home, and that if he could stall them there long enough, the Death Eaters could capture them."
The spectators set up an ugly growl, and Shacklebolt had to quell them yet again. "What are the names of these Death Eaters?"
"Travers and Selwyn."
A couple of low-ranking Death Eaters, who had already been incarcerated in Azkaban. Shacklebolt considered having them summoned, but there did not seem to be any need. He bent his gaze on the prisoner.
"Prisoner!" At this, Xenophilius looked up; his expression made Shacklebolt think of someone who had been staring into Hell. "How do you plead?"
"Plead?"
"Plead. Do you plead guilty or not guilty?" Shacklebolt wondered if Xenophilius was in proper shape to be tried; he didn't seem to be tracking very well. Some of the people who had hauled him in hadn't been gentle. He was missing a few teeth, and looked like he was recovering from what had been a spectacular black eye. He smelled bad, and Shacklebolt made a note to himself to check into the conditions under which accused prisoners were being kept. Unfortunately, quite a few people wanted revenge – it was understandable enough, Shacklebolt supposed, but it led to abuses, and he'd have no such goings-on on his watch, damn it!
Xenophilius just looked down at his feet, swaying back and forth in the dock. "Let the court enter a plea of not guilty."
The prosecutor stepped forward. In a ringing voice, he read: "This is the deposition of Desideratus Travers, a known and convicted Death Eater with the Dark Mark on his arm. He says: 'On the afternoon of the 28th of December, 1997, I was contacted at my station at the Ministry of Magic by Xenophilius Lovegood, editor of The Quibbler. He stated that he had Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger the Mudblood at his house in Devonshire, and that if we came quickly, he could stall them there long enough for us to capture them. We arrived, and there was a fight; in the fight, an Erumpent horn that the said Xenophilius had hanging on his wall in the belief that it was a Snorkack horn exploded. We saw Harry Potter, but he escaped in the confusion.'"
The courtroom echoed with a long growl from the spectators. Shacklebolt pounded his gavel. "Does the other Death Eater's statement add any facts to this?"
"No, Minister."
"Xenophilius Lovegood!" Lovegood looked up again. "Do you have anything to say in your own defense?"
"Nothing. Everything that they said is true," whispered Xenophilius.
"Very well. Since there has been nothing said in your defense, it is my duty to – "
"NO!"
Shacklebolt started at this unexpected interruption. It was a woman's voice, and somehow familiar. As he stared, a blond-haired comet burst from the crowd, vaulting the barriers between them and the center of the court, where the dock containing Xenophilius was. It was his daughter, Luna Lovegood. Shacklebolt had met her before, and thought her a rather sweet, dotty, harmless girl.
This Luna, though, was anything but harmless, and her usual slightly spacey manner had been replaced by a terrible focus. She planted herself in front of the dock, heedless of the shock on the face of her father, and screamed: "Anybody who tries laying a finger on my Daddy will have to go over my dead body first!" Her wand was in her hand, and she clearly meant every last word.
She turned her gaze on Shacklebolt, and he shivered. He had faced off with Bellatrix Lestrange in both wizard wars, and at the moment, he honestly thought that Luna Lovegood could have gone farther into insanity than Lestrange ever had. If Lestrange had faced Lovegood with Lovegood in the state she was in, Lestrange would have been toast, Shacklebolt thought, even without her friends, much less Madame Weasley!
"Now, Miss Lovegood, please calm yourself. We have procedures here, and…" the prosecutor's voice was cut off suddenly when Luna turned her wand toward him, smiling like a hungry tiger.
"You…" Luna hissed, "you were the one bringing charges against my Daddy?" Her face twisted into a mask of rage, and she screamed: "I ought to – "
"Luna! Baby, no, please! Don't do it!" Xenophilius had snapped out of his funk, and he was staring at his daughter in horror. "Don't hurt him! He's just doing his job!"
Luna turned, and her Gorgon glare melted into her usual slightly-dazed, cheerful expression for a second as she gazed at her father. Even from where he sat, Shacklebolt could feel the love and trust between them. "Daddy. Don't worry, Daddy. You protected me when I was little. Now I'm a big girl, and I shall protect you!" She gave her father a beaming proud smile.
When Luna faced the courtroom again, her terrible glare was back. In a low voice, she snarled: "This man changed my nappies when I was a baby, fed me, tucked me into bed, helped me learn to walk, read and write, and loved me with all his heart! When my Mummy died, we held each other and cried as they lowered her into the earth. I took care of him, and he took care of me. I'm all he has in the world, and before you harm him, you'll have to kill me!" She plucked at her neck, where she wore an Order of Merlin – like the other officers and soldiers in Dumbledore's Army, alive and dead, she had been awarded it for her heroism in the second wizarding war. "And if you harm him, you can take this bauble and shove it where the sun doesn't shine!" The last came out in a full-throated shriek.
Shacklebolt was very impressed. Others, apparently, weren't. Some fool had summoned one or two Dementors, and the awful creatures glided into the courtroom, straight toward Luna. The spectators shrank away in fear, and Xenophilius crumpled in the dock. Even Shacklebolt felt fear.
Luna Lovegood, on the other hand, smiled a berserk smile. "So, you want to play rough, do you? Well, say hello to my little friend!" She waved her wand, and screamed "Expecto Patronum!"
Her Patronus, a hare, leaped from the end of her wand and charged the Dementors, leaping on the foremost one before it could retreat and throwing it backward. Hissing and snarling their frustration, the monsters retreated, and Luna's Patronus returned, to stand unflinching before its mistress.
Kingsley Shacklebolt wondered how he could regain control of the courtroom. Would the spectators' galleries help? He looked up, and his blood froze with fear worse than anything the Dementors could produce.
He recognized many of the spectators. Harry Potter himself was there, his Order of Merlin gleaming at his throat, with Ronald Weasley by his side on one side, Hermione Granger beside him on the other side, and Ginny Weasley beside Hermione. All four of them had their wands out.
And they were not the only ones. Neville Longbottom was there, with Hannah Abbot holding him by the hand, and their wands in their other hands. Shacklebolt recognized more and more people – Susan Bones MacMillan, heavily pregnant but with her wand in her hand and her formidable in-laws backing her, stood beside Neville, and…Merlin's ears! Was that Colin Creevey? Yes, the new ghost of Gryffindor was there, too! The spectators' galleries were filled with veterans of Dumbledore's Army, each with his or her Order of Merlin on display and wand in hand. The wands were not pointed at anybody – as yet – but that could change in a second, and Shacklebolt was suddenly aware of just how he was sitting at the center of what could become a maelstrom.
Dumbledore's Army had rallied yet again. Somehow or other, they had known that Luna was in desperate need, and, one and all, they had dropped whatever they were doing to render her all the aid in their collective power. At the moment, they had enough magical firepower to easily take down every Auror in the building, Shacklebolt estimated.
For a few seconds, silence stretched out. Then, from the audience, Arthur Weasley stood up.
"If Xenophilius Lovegood cannot or will not speak in his own defence, I will!" he said, very firmly. Beside him, Molly Weasley, her own Order of Merlin gleaming around her neck, dabbed at her eyes and glared at Shacklebolt as though she thought he might be hiding Bellatrix Lestrange somewhere about his person. "I can't excuse what Xenophilius did, but I have to say that he had extremely extenuating circumstances. The Death Eaters had kidnapped his daughter, and he was desperate to get her back. I was very fortunate; I didn't have any of my own sons, or my daughter, captured by those filth. I honestly don't know what I'd have been willing to do if any of them had been caught."
"He's exactly right!" spoke up another voice. A tall, slender, elderly witch in a vulture-trimmed hat stood up. "Anybody with children could understand what he did, and you, Kingsley Shacklebolt, ought to be thoroughly ashamed of yourself for persecuting the poor man!"
This was something new. "Miss Lovegood?" Shacklebolt asked. "Did the Death Eaters capture you and try to use you as a hostage to ensure your father's cooperation?"
Startled, Luna slipped back into her usual slightly-dotty persona. "Oh yes. I was held at Malfoy Manor, with Mr. Ollivander and Griphook the goblin. We had some rather nice times together, I thought. I never had really spoken much to Mr. Ollivander, but he knows many interesting things about wands."
Looking around, Shacklebolt saw Mr. Ollivander sitting in the audience. "Is this true, Mr. Ollivander?"
Ollivander stood up. "Yes. Miss Lovegood was a great comfort to me in my captivity. She never gave up hope that we would be eventually rescued, and was very kind to me – always insisted that I take the larger portions of food, and gave me the better places to sleep of nights. When I was freed, I made a new wand for her, since she had lost her old one. I see she's still got that wand. Are you keeping it in good condition, Miss Lovegood?"
Luna gave her former fellow captive a beaming smile. "Oh, yes, Mr. Ollivander. It was very nice of you to make it for me. I think of you every time I use it." Her smile twisted back into the Lestrangesque leer of rage she had worn earlier. "And as you can see, I can use it very well!"
The silence after that last statement stretched on for a second. Finally Shacklebolt cleared his throat. "In view of the extenuating circumstances that have been brought to this court's attention, it is the court's verdict that you, Xenophilius Lovegood, are guilty of collaboration with the Death Eaters – " Luna swung around and brought up her wand, as did every member of Dumbledore's Army in the galleries – "and the sentence shall be that you be released on parole, in the custody of your daughter. A lieutenant in Dumbledore's Army should be sufficient to ensure your future good behavior. If you keep your record clean for six months, this arrest and conviction shall be expunged from the records."
Luna stared, her mouth open. Xenophilius reached out to his daughter for the first time. Neville Longbottom had somehow or other come down from the spectators' galleries, and he came up to her. "Luna. Luna…your daddy's safe. You can take him home. Susan's got a house for you and we've found a press. You can start the Quibbler back up again. There's no need to worry. Please – Lieutenant – put your wand down. We're all here to protect you. Nobody's going to hurt your Daddy."
Finally, Luna lowered her wand, and whatever berserk spirit had entered her seemed to leave. The door to the dock opened, and Xenophilius stumbled out. Luna offered her father her arm, and they walked out of the courtroom together, their heads held high, as Dumbledore's Army brought their wands up to the salute.
I need a drink…Shacklebolt called a recess, and ducked out of the courtroom, heading for the break room where he knew there was a bottle of Butterbeer with his name on it.
As he passed through the corridors, he ran across the Lovegoods again. They thought they were unobserved, and their composure had cracked. Luna and Xenophilius held each other, Luna sobbing and her father murmuring incoherent words of love and comfort to his little girl. If they had been holding each other any more tightly, Shacklebolt thought that there'd be at least a few cracked ribs, or else they wouldn't be able to breathe.
Normally, Kingsley Shacklebolt had no mercy on Death Eaters or anybody associated with them. This time, though - he headed for his bottle of Butterbeer, and resolved that he would give his children a hug apiece when he went home from work that evening.
END
