Harry Potter and the Combat Butler
By Andrew J. Talon, SoftRogue and Fitzgerald
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is not our property. It belongs to JK Rowling and Time Warner. We're not doing this for profit. The only thing in this story I own is Castor Malfoy.
- - - - -
Hermione sat cross-legged on the floor of the gym with only Castor to keep her company. Only…it wasn't just Castor; it was Castor currently under the effects of 'Hermione-flavored Polyjuice' as he had put it.
Which was why she had convinced (re: pushed) both Ron and Harry out of the room. It wasn't that she didn't trust Harry or Ron; it was the awkwardness of the situation that bothered her. And from what she could tell, Castor himself was a decent guy; odd, but decent. Add to the fact that Harry also liked him and also apparently trusted was a definite plus in her book.
But still; the fact he was an adult currently wearing her body just felt wrong, which is why she insisted in watching him as he began the first step of creating the muscle memory for her training.
"Not bad…not bad at all." Castor announced as he/she bounced back and forth on his feet a couple of times before throwing a series of punches followed a quick snap-kick. "You're in better shape that I thought, Hermione. You still have a long way to go and a lot of conditioning to do, but we're better off that I thought we would be."
"Thanks…I think." Hermione said. "So, what are you planning to teach me?"
"Savate." Castor said, while delivering a spin-kick. "The noble and graceful French art of beating the bloody hell out of people." Castor finished with a grin.
"I've heard of it." Hermione said, with a slight frown. "Isn't that primarily the style used by both the French Military and its police forces?"
Chuckling, Castor moved over to one of the training dummies that had been set up around the gym. Seeing, the scowl on Hermione's face, he quickly apologized as he began a series of kicks aimed at one of the dummy's knees. "Sorry; but you're just like Harry said. Anyway, Savate is brutal; you hit your opponent hard and take them down fast; which will be perfect for you."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked curiously. "Me? Brutal?"
"Not to sound sexist, but you're at a bit of a disadvantage here." Castor explained, stepping into the dummy to deliver a series of punches before returning to kicking its knee. "Most of the styles I know aren't made for someone of your stature; and the ones I do know are too 'soft' considering that your opponents are going to be going straight for the kill. So there's no point teaching a style based on immobilizing and restraining people; but I'll still throw some moves is from Judo and Tai Chi Chuan to give you a little variety."
"Opponents?" Hermione scowled. "I'm not going to go looking for a fight!"
"No, but they will." Castor responded calmly, before performing a jumping spin-kick. "Just by breathing; you have a target painted on your back. And by being so close to Harry; that just means they'll be after you that much more."
Hermione silently agreed as Castor delivered another combination of punches to the dummy before sweeping it off of its feet. "Like I said, you're at a bit of a disadvantage here; you'll never have Harry's speed or agility or Ron's strength and reach. It'll take way to long to bring you to the level of strength I'm talking about here and we'll be working on bringing your speed up; which will go a lot quicker once we get some chestnuts."
"Chestnuts?" Ask Hermione; wondering what that had to do with speed.
Ignoring the question with still performing several combinations of kicks and punches, Castor continued talking. "We'll be concentrating on getting you comfortable with Savate and the other moves I'll be teaching you; also some gymnastics for more flexibility. I'll also be showing you Le Canne; a French weapons style using canes that goes hand in hand with Savate, although we'll most likely move on to using staffs instead of canes."
"I see." Hermione agreed. She knew she was looking at a lot of hard physical work; but Castor was right. Even if she stopped being Harry's friend today, the Death Eaters would still go after her for being a 'Mud-Blood'.
And there was no way she'd stop being Harry's friend.
"Besides, considering your history, teaching you Savate would be a bit of poetic justice if you ask me." Castor said; a grin on his face.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
"Well, Savate was developed by combining several different types of street fighting techniques that were melded together to from one solid style. One of the biggest changes that happened was one of its core styles utilized open handed slaps instead of closed fist hits. And seeing how you knocked my little brother around back in your third year; I'd say that teaching you Savate just feels right."
"Little brother?" Hermione asked, confused.
Frowning in thought, Hermione tried to figure out who Castor was talking about. Even as a child long before she thought magic was even possible, she almost never resorted to violence. In fact, she could count on one hand the number of people she had hit in anger and still have a couple of fingers left over. And the only person she had hit since she started attending Hogwarts was…
"Draco? You're a Malfoy?" she blurted out; suddenly realizing why the blonde seemed so familiar.
"Yep." Castor said, his voice still friendly as it had been since the two were left alone in the gym; but Hermione thought his punches and kicks seemed a bit more forceful. "Is that a problem?"
"No." Hermione replied instantly; her mind putting several things together. "I've met your brother; remember? And considering his attitudes about…" she let the sentence hang. "Besides; Harry likes and trusts you."
"Good." Castor smiled as he brought his movements to an end. "Well, this dose should be ending soon; so let's call Sirius up here to grab my memories, alright."
"Sure." Hermione smiled as she stood. "Um, Castor? I've been wondering…"
"Hum?"
"Well…how…you're a girl now! How can you just act like nothing is the matter?!" Hermione cried out.
"Feel better getting that off your chest?"
"Yea…"
"Well, it's not like its permanent and I'm suffering from curse that has a 'very tragic legend' that's over one thousand five hundred years attached to it or anything. Besides, this isn't the first time I've used Polyjuice; I've had to make a quick getaway a couple of times. And when people are looking for a six foot something blonde guy; they don't even stop to glance at five foot woman."
"But still…"
"I know you have experience with Polyjuice; Harry told me about your second year. So you know that even though I look like a girl, I'm still a guy up here." He said, pointing at his temple.
"I can't believe Harry told you about that." Hermione mumbled, before looking back at Castor. "But you're a girl."
"And you were a cat." Castor countered with a grin, "And a cat is fine too."
"Huh?"
"Ok Hermione; let me break it down for you. One: Protecting Harry is my job, so getting you into fighting form so I don't have to protect Harry from doing something stupid when he tries to protect you walls under that description; and doing this is the quickest way to do that. Two: I'm not that big of a pervert, and I like my women to be legal. Three: Not that you aren't attractive or anything but, no offence, you're not my type; even considering the age thing. And Four: I don't like poaching on a friend's territory."
"Poaching?" Hermione asked with a confused look on her face.
"Never mind." Castor waived the question away. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask you something."
"Hum? Oh, go ahead?"
"How do you deal with all this hair? It's so bushy and untamed." Castor asked, running his hands through his damp and tangled locks.
"Castor!"
"Hey! It's not like I'm asking if all your hair is like this!" Castor said, defending himself.
"WHAT!!" Hermione yelled, her fists clenching in anger.
"Besides," Castor continued with a straight face, "I'm sure you'd rather Harry be the one to find out the answer to that question."
"…eee…" squeaked Hermione, her face suddenly red.
Turning to the door to call for Sirius, Castor allowed himself to smirk as he muttered under his breath "And my job here is done."
---
Ron's training session held later that evening did not quite go as smoothly.
"Damn it!" Ron cursed from the ground. "Godric's Ghost this Kung Fu stuff is a pain in the arse!"
Castor gazed at Ron's prone and reddening form with a calm look in his eyes. Instead of encouraging his student to get back up and try the kata again like he had done the last dozen times Castor remained silent. He absently flexed his muscles and frowned. While the Polyjuice potion may have reset Ron's muscle memory, it hadn't done anything for his agility: Or, to be more precise, his lack thereof. He could run fast, sure, and had plenty of strength and reach, but his hand-eye coordination wasn't great and his reflexes and balance weren't much to brag about.
Charlie, back from the Dragon Preserve for a few days, winced at Ron's cursing. He'd been watching the training session with some interest, and had to agree with his youngest brother's assessment.
"This Kung Fu stuff obviously isn't for you Ron," Charlie stated in a calming tone obviously well practiced on dragons. "I'm thinking fisticuffs is more your thing, I'm certainly better at it myself."
"Brawling," Castor commented, obviously perked up with Charlie's statement. "I can see that working."
Castor settled into a basic boxing stance, arms up. He threw several quick jabs, and began to bob and weave experimentally. Ron pushed himself up slightly, watching Castor seem to perform a strange dance with his body. He moved backwards, forwards, side to side as though circling an opponent, ducking, punching and occasionally holding out his arms as though grabbing his foe and kneeing them in the crotch.
"Bit more linear and add some knees and elbows to it. Some down and dirty street fighting moves as well," Castor surmised, nodding in satisfaction. He turned to Charlie with a grin.
"So where did you pick up the Noble Art Charlie?"
"Romanian bars tend to be a bit," Charlie paused as he chose his words carefully, "rowdy. Blokes tend to object to having their birds express interest in a fellow innocently nursing a pint."
"Innocent," Ron snorted in good humor. "You Charlie? I still remember the Mum's reactions to your friendly scraps down at the village pub."
"Ah, the old Weasley one-two jab," Bill commented as he stuck his head inside the training room. "Cor, I remember the first time Dad showed me how to do that. That left hook of his saved my bacon a few times in Egypt."
Rolling upright, Ron glanced between his two brothers, a hopeful expression on his face. "So, care to teach a younger brother how Weasleys fight?"
Feral grins passed across both his older brothers faces. Grins that Ron could compare to the three head dog Hagrid had back in first year. He gulped.
"Oh definitely," Bill agreed. "However, first Mum wanted to pass along word supper will be ready in a few, and if you want to eat faces and hands need to be scrubbed clean."
- - -
"Blimey what happened to you Ron?" Harry asked with obvious concern, as he looked up from his grandmothers text. "You look like bludgers have been doing a number on you."
Collapsing into his bed back first, a bruised and weary looking Ron explained slowly. "Bludgers named Charlie and Bill."
"Ouch, what did you do to piss them off?" Harry asked wondering just what his best male friend could have done to annoy his eldest set of brothers.
"Training," Ron explained. "I'm rubbish with that kung fu chop socky stuff, but we Weasely's fight with our fists. So Bill and Charlie introduced me to it. Fist first."
"Well that's one way," Harry said uncertainly.
"Co'or, tell me about it," Ron sighed. "But I did get a good lick in on Charlie. They'll be doing the whole polyjuice - memory thing later tonight and tomorrow morning. Bill and Castor will be working on my basic punches until then."
Perking up in excitement Ron added, "Charlie told me a few professional Keepers use boxing to get into form for Quidditch. Something about being able to take a bludger or two and still block the Quaffle."
"Well we do need a Keeper for the team this year," Harry fired back. "Let's play some indoor Quidditch for the fun of it and see if we can't get you into form for tryouts."
"Sounds brilliant, but let's wait until I'm not black and blue all over eh?"
- - -
The day of Harry's trial began much too early in the bespectacled youth's opinion. Having your bodyguard burst into your room and crying 'Rise and shine!' while banging a pot with a spoon at the crack of dawn was not the way he wanted to start is day.
Although, in retrospect, Harry did find it rather funny when Castor proceeded to drag Ron out of his bed and heard him out of the room. Although it was rather surreal when Castor put the pot on his head and used the spoon to prod the redhead out of the room and responded to all of Ron's venomous statements about the blonde's questionable sanity with "Castor is a good boy!" was rather strange.
After breakfast, Castor took Ron and Harry to the gym for some morning training. Castor had Harry do some warm ups and some sparring with the enchanted swords in his grandmother's case, and then tested Ron's progress with the Polyjuice potion training.
Ron's progress was significant. He could bob and weave quite handily, and kept managing the spar to his advantage, getting in close for strong punches and then dancing away to strike from a distance with quick jabs, never letting Castor control the pace of combat. Castor was actually quite impressed-Though Castor was obviously holding back, Ron proved that he had enormous potential in street fighting and boxing.
He needed to develop better defense though, Castor reflected with a guilty expression, after an uppercut of his own managed to knock Ron into a dazed stagger.
"Er, oops…"
After Ron had sat down and was recovering, Castor turned to Harry with a grin.
"Well, sufficiently warmed up?"
"I think so," Harry replied. He frowned. "So, I guess I'll see you later then?"
Castor grinned. "Actually, I'll be going with you."
"Huh?!"
Arthur Weasley stepped into the gym, briefly looking Ron over who waved him away with a grunt. He then turned to Harry with a smile.
"Well, Castor is your bodyguard… And legal council," Weasley added. Harry blinked.
"I… I get legal council?"
"Yes, if you file the proper paperwork for it, which Mr. Weasley was all too happy to do," Castor nodded thankfully to the Weasley patriarch, who smiled back.
"Not a problem at all for Harry."
"Good! Then let's be off!" Castor enthused, clapping his hands together. Mr. Weasley walked out, and Castor made to follow. He then paused, and snapped his fingers.
"Damn, almost forgot," he mumbled. He turned back to Harry.
"Harry, mind calling Dobby in for something?"
"Dobby?" Harry asked in confusion. A pop later and said house elf appeared. Castor had to visibly reign in his laughter at the red and black checkered T-shirt with the logo for the American Quidditch team the Philadelphia Barnstormers, mismatched green and (literally) glowing purlple socks, and turban the little creature was wearing. Harry started in shock as Dobby smiled.
"Yes, Harry Potter sir? You called for Dobby?"
"Er… Um… Yes, I guess I did," Harry mumbled. He shook his head at Dobby's overjoyed expression.
"Oh, what can Dobby do for the Great Wizard Harry Potter, sir?"
"Dobby," Castor said with a smile. Dobby blinked and looked the tall blonde man up and down, as though trying to recognize him.
"Does Dobby know friend of Great Wizard Harry Potter's?" Dobby asked. Castor shook his head.
"Probably not… Anyway," he said, withdrawing a small bag of white capsules from his pocket, "Harry Potter needs you to put these pills into Dumbledore's food and tea."
Dobby blinked, and turned to Harry with wide eyes. Harry blinked as well, glancing over at Castor who winked. Harry nodded.
"Er, yes. I do."
"Great Wizard Harry Potter is sure Dobby be doing this?" Dobby asked, almost cautious. Harry nodded again, more firmly this time.
"Yes, I'm sure," he repeated. Dobby took the bag and bowed.
"Then Dobby will do so! Dobby is very happy to be serving Great Wizard Harry Potter and his friend! Bye bye!"
With that, the house elf vanished, and Harry glowered suspiciously at Castor.
"What was that?" He demanded. Castor smirked.
"Relax Harry, it's not going to kill him. It's just insurance that he doesn't interfere with your trial."
"Interfere?" Harry asked with a frown. Castor nodded.
"Here's the thing. Fudge thinks you and Dumbledore, together, are a united front against him. If you both show up at your hearing, well, that will just double his hostility and anger. With me, he'll just be more confused because he has no idea who I am; which will keep him off-balance." He grinned and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, guiding him out of the gym and towards the front door. Mr. Weasley insisted they go to the Ministry Building the Muggle way, which would show Harry being more humble.
"So… What was in that bag anyway?" Harry asked. Castor smirked evilly.
"Let's just say that, at his age, he could use a little more help to be… Regular."
Arthur Weasley looked up from his examination of Castor's car's headlights to laughter. He blinked as Harry laughed uproariously down the steps of Grimmauld Place, and though confused, he was happy Harry was in good spirits. Though why he was in good spirits, well… Castor's evil grin was probably a good sign that he didn't want to know.
- - -
The drive to the Ministry building took a bit longer than anticipated, primarily because Castor, Mr. Weasley, and the hula girl got into an argument about directions. Castor was sure taking the A3 would put them right on the Ministry, while Mr. Weasley (who collected Muggle maps as well as other Muggle items) insisted on going by Wandsworth Rd. The Hula girl said they both were wrong and that A202 was the best way to go. Which would have involved a much longer drive anyway but she insisted. Finally, Castor handed Harry the map, pointed to where they were, and where the Ministry was, and asked him to decide how to get there.
Harry immediately asked the hula girl to help and she happily directed them by the fastest route, smugly talking down to the two sulking men as they got to the little phone booth that was the street level entrance to the Ministry of Magic well within her projected time.
After entering the building, Mr. Weasley went straight to his office while Castor and Harry headed for the Wizenmagot. Castor managed to get them to the proper place and sat down to wait, before being told that the hearing had been moved back to 8:00. Thus, both had rushed out of the waiting area and through the double doors to the Wizenmagot, a room Harry had seen before in Dumbledore's Pensieve but never actually been in.
"You're late," Fudge stated coldly, glaring down at Harry from the middle of the Wizengamot. His beady eyes glanced over at Castor, standing casually next to the defendant's chair.
"Who are you?"
"Sorry your Honors, you'll need to update your records," Castor replied, and Harry looked to his side and blinked in astonishment at the change that had come over his bodyguard. He stood straight up, hands out of pockets, eyes blazing with determination and face set like stone. Harry was startled at the transformation. No longer was he smirking like he was sharing a private joke, no longer was he relaxed and seemingly lazy.
"And you are?" Fudge asked drolly. Castor nodded.
"Castor Credit, your Honor. I am here to serve as Mister Potter's legal council."
"Legal council?" Fudge asked, irritated. "This is a simple civil matter!"
"A simple civil matter that necessitated the full Wizengamot to be assembled," Castor replied in a strong, even tone. "As established in the 1899 case, Hodgepodge versus MoM, any full assembly of the Wizengamot for a trial requires the defendant to be granted legal representation. It is also noted in the MoM Charter of Rights."
Fudge narrowed his eyes, and the squat, toad-like witch next to him leaned over, whispering in his ear. Fudge nodded and leaned back, raising a condescending eyebrow down at the Boy Who Lived and his 'lawyer'.
"What credentials do you bring as a legally recognized solicitor, Mister Credit?"
Castor allowed a small smirk to emerge on his face.
"I didn't bring any, your Honors. By law, Mister Potter is allowed to appoint anyone he chooses as his legal council, regardless of credentials."
"And we are supposed to take you seriously then?" Fudge asked angrily. Castor nodded. Fudge snorted.
"Very well... Yes then, the charges... Let it be known that Mister Credit is serving as the defendant, Harry James Potter's, legal council."
Castor nodded and stood next to Harry, seemingly perfectly composed. Fudge glowered and read the charges aloud.
"The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produced a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizard's Statute of Secrecy."
"You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Fudge said, glaring over the top of his parchment.
"Yes," Harry said.
"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?"
"Yes, but-"
"And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?" said Fudge.
"Yes," said Harry, "but-"
"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside of school while you are under the age of seventeen?"
"Yes, but-!"
"OBJECTION!" Castor shouted, pointing a finger right at Fudge's nose. Ignoring the gasps of several wizards and witches in the chamber Castor continued.
"The charges and nature of his crime have already been inputted into the record. Interrogating my client with a series of questions without allowing him to defend himself constitutes badgering of the defendant, and an obstruction of the hearing proceedings."
Fudge glowered. "This assembly does not recognize your objection!"
"You should find it in the MoM Charter of Civil Liberties, right under Article Nine," Castor replied evenly. Fudge scowled as the fat witch mumbled into his ear. He nodded.
"Objection is so sustained," Fudge growled. The monocle-wearing witch on Fudge's right perked up.
"A Patronus? You created a Patronus?"
Harry nodded. "Yes."
"You mean it was fully formed? Not a mist?"
"No, it's a stag. It's always a stag," Harry replied. Castor smirked as several wizards and witches murmured overhead.
"If the Minister requires the defendant to submit his testimony under Veritaserum or submit his memories to a Pensieve for viewing, he is prepared to do so."
"Not at this time." Fudge growled out. "To continue…"
"Your Honors." Castor interrupted smoothly, "I wish to present evidence that my client did not, in fact, breach the International Confederation of Wizard's Statute of Secrecy."
The courtroom was silent as everyone turned to Castor before the toad-woman leaned forward and whispered into Fudges' ear once again. "So, you're saying that, despite the presence of one Mr. Dudley Dursley at the scene of the crime, that Mr. Potter did not, violate the Statute of Secrecy?"
"Correct." Castor nodded confidently; only once again to be met by silence.
Leaning forward, the monocle-wearing witch placed her elbows on the table and folded her hands together. "Please explain, Mr. Credit."
"Certainly." Castor replied. "The International Confederation of Wizard's Statute of Secrecy only applies to Muggles. Dudley Dursley; my client's cousin on his mothers side; is, in fact, a Squib."
The courtroom was suddenly abuzz with hushed whispers as Harry looked at his bodyguard with surprise. "Preposterous!" Fudge roared, half rising from his seat.
"Minister Fudge!" the monocle-wearing witch snapped, "Please compose yourself."
"Forgive me, Madam Bones." Fudge said, sitting back down before addressing Castor. "It's a matter of record that Mr. Potter's only magical lineage on his mother's side is, in fact, his mother. Therefore, his cousin can not be a Squib." He finished triumphantly.
Castor reached into his pocket and pulled out an extremely large leather bounded book. Calmly opening it to a booked marked page, he looked up at the judges. "According to Encyclopedia Thaumaturgy, a Squib is defined as thus.
"Squib: noun. European colloquialism used to describe any such person who, while unable to perform magic due to an inefficient or damaged magical core, are still able to use any magical device that does not directly use a persons magical core and/or able to see any magical effects and/or magical creatures."
"It goes on," Castor explained, calmly closing the book and returning it to his pocket, "Listing other names used to describe Squibs and the more common devices that Squibs can use. However, at no point does it mention anything about a person's lineage."
Once again the courtroom was silent as Castor pressed on. "That being said, I am prepared to enter evidence that Dudley Dursley is a Squib; therefore his witnessing any magic that might or might not have been performed by my client does not violate the Statute of Secrecy."
Harry was quite confused (and also quite certain he wasn't the only one there who was) about what Castor was talking about. After all, Harry knew that the Dursleys were about as Muggle as a Muggle could get. He then remembered how curious Castor was about the twin's products; especially the Ton-Tongue Toffees that they used on Dudley.
Castor had repeatedly told Harry that he doesn't lie. However, Harry also knew after growing up with the Dursleys that, sometimes, facts could be laid out in a way that people could come to the wrong conclusion.
After another whispered conversation with the toad-woman, Fudge looked at Castor. "The fact that Dudley Dursley may or may not be a Squib is irrelevant…"
"In that case," Castor once again interrupted smoothly, "I move that all charges against my client concerning the use of magic in the presence of anybody be dropped."
"…what…?" Fudge's strangled voice was heard above the buzz of the courtroom as Harry noticed the Minister's face turn an ugly puce he had only seen before on his Uncle.
"As Dudley, the only witness to my client's alleged crimes, has been described by a member of this august body as 'irrelevant'; any charges concerning illegal activities performed in front of witnesses can no longer apply."
The buzz of the courtroom rose in volume as Fudge leaped from his chair. "OBJECTION!" he bellowed.
Castor looked at the Minister with confusion. "Excuse me, Minister, but you can't object."
"WHAT?!?" Fudge cried, while the toad-woman pulled furiously on his sleeve.
"Mr. Credit is correct." Madam Bones said, her mouth suspiciously concealed by her steepled hands. "As you are not representing either the defense or the prosecution, but sitting in judgment, you cannot object to any statements."
The courtroom quieted down again at the elder Bones's words. Lifting her head slightly, she once again addressed Castor. "Very well then; all such charges against Mr. Potter are dropped. However the charge of violating the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, paragraph C still stands. How does your client plead?"
By this time, Fudge was once again sitting in his chair; looking quite pleased with himself. Harry, looking at Castor, nodded; letting his bodyguard answer for him.
"My client pleads not guilty by reason of self defense per Clause 7 of Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery; which states magic may be used before Muggles in exceptional circumstances, which include situations that include the life of the wizard or witch himself, or witches, wizards, or Muggles present."
"Very well, Mr. Credit. Your client's plea has been entered into the record." Fudge said with an oily smile as he nodded to Percy, who had been furiously transcribing the proceedings. "You may present your…case."
"Thank you." Castor said, stepping forward. Clapping his hands together dramatically, causing many to jump in surprise, the blonde began to pace as he started speaking. "My client, Mr. Potter, is a remarkable young man. Despite the opinions that many hold, no one can deny the facts about his abilities. He has repeatedly shown his quick reflexes on the Quidditch pitch; his good decision making skills under pressure during the Triwizard Tournament; and his keen intelligence when learning about defense and dealing with dark magics' as shown by his school grades."
The courtroom was spellbound by Castor's speech, as Harry couldn't believe that it was him that the blonde was talking about. Looking around, Harry saw many of the witches and wizards present her listening to Castor intently…except for the Minister and the toad-woman; who looked quite ill.
"He has also been called many things and given many titles. The-Boy-Who-Lived; Youngest Seeker in over a Century, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League," Harry blinked at that one, but wasn't surprised that Lockhart hadn't mentioned it in order to inflate his own ego, "Triwizard Champion, 4rd place in Teen Witches Weekly's 'Great Boyfriend Material' for three years running and 2nd place in their 'Bestest Bum' category for last two years, and 2nd place in Witches Weekly's 'Future Manwatch' list for four years running."
Harry was blushing at the end as snickers could be heard. "Could you get to the point, Mr. Credit?" Madam Bones said.
"I am merely presenting my client's credentials, Madam Bones." Castor replied. "Mr. Potter as repeatedly proven to be well equipped, perhaps more so than the average wizard three times his age, to identify a dangerous threat to himself and counter it."
"And how," Madam Bones asked, raising an eyebrow, "do the last few credentials of Mr. Potter you mentioned apply here?"
"Ah." Castor answered with a sheepish smile. "I take it you've never had to deal with rabid fangirls before."
A shiver ran down Harry's spine as he suddenly felt very, very afraid.
"So you're saying," Fudge said, leaning forward, "That Mr. Potter noticed a threat to him and responded to said threat by casting a spell?"
"Yes." Castor said.
"A…Patronus, of all things?" Fudge asked; a gleam in his eyes.
"Indeed." Replied Castor.
A predatory grin crept across the Minister's face. "In other words, you're telling us that Dementor of all things attacked Mr. Potter?"
"Dementor?" Castor asked, perplexed. "At no time did I ever mention a Dementor."
"B-but, you admitted that Mr. Potter would be able identify a threat and respond accordingly!" Fudge stuttered. "Why else would he cast a Patronus unless he thought there was a Dementor!?"
"Lethifolds." Harry blurted, speaking for the first time since Castor began his defense. Seeing everyone's eyes on him, Harry resisted the urge to shrink back. "Everyone knows that a Patronus can be used to drive back a lethifold."
The buzz of muttering was back as Madam Bones leaned back in her chair. "So, you're saying that a lethifold, a creature that lives in the tropics, attacked your client in Surrey, England?"
"I've said no such thing, Madam Bones. I've merely claimed that my client recognized a threat to himself and he responded to it. And no one has denied that my client is quite able to recognize any threat aimed at him or his ability to respond to it. The fact that my client responded with a Patronus charm is irrelevant at this point." Castor turned to look at Fudge and smiled, "Although I am curious as to why our Minister immediately assumed that it was a Dementor that attacked my client."
Looking at the many teeth showing in Castor's smile, Harry suddenly understood why lawyers are sometimes called 'landsharks'.
The whispered conversation between Fudge and the toad-woman was rather fierce and heated with wild gestures and dark looks shot at both Harry and Castor. Finally, after a moment, Fudge turned back to the courtroom and rose.
"Ahem." The Minister cleared his throat with a frown on his face "In light of the observations made during this trial, the Ministry of Magic hereby withdraws the charges against Harry James Potter until such time that the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures can perform a thorough investigation of the crime scene. Court is adjourned."
As the courtroom cleared, Harry leaned over to Castor and quietly asked, "What just happened?"
"Politics." the blonde answered. "It's a dirty game and I hate it; but I know how to play. If he forced the issue, he doesn't know what I'd pull next; and he doesn't know if I could prove if it was a Dementor that attacked your or not. If I could, then he'd suddenly look suspicious of having a hand in sending Dementors after you since he mentioned them first. However, I gave him an out, good timing by the way."
"Then the investigation…" Harry's eyes lit up in understanding.
"Will still be collecting dust when you're old and grey," Castor grinned. "Technically, you haven't been cleared of the charges; but Fudge-packer will make sure it will never see the light of day. Anyway, don't worry about the criminal charges on your record; chicks love the 'bad-boy' image."
- - -
Meanwhile, back in Hogwarts Castle, a certain Headmaster was forced to run back to the bathroom for a fifth time, cursing loudly and making several paintings gasp in scandal.
Dobby watched Dumbledore's reactions, before nodding and snapping his fingers to apparate away.
- - -
Chapter four for your enjoyment. More evil to come next time!