Hey there people. As ever, I'm sorry about the wait for this, and I'm afraid to say that this isn't my longest chapter ever. Only about 3,000 words, it's 1,500 less than my 'Par' if you will. However, it does serve it's purpose of setting a few things up.
In any case, I hope you enjoy what little there is.
Chris
"No, I've told you three times now, I did not take Felix Felicis in an attempt to cheat!"
Harry Potter sat despondently in one of the Ministry of Magic's many interviewing rooms. He'd been in there for the past four hours, not that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement officers showed their faces until sometime in the past fifty minutes. Making the suspect 'sweat it out' was the techincal term, he believed.
"Then how do you explain the claims that Mr Denine has put forward?" one of the two DMLE officers said, leaning across the table from his seat while the other paced the back wall.
Harry fixed the man with an annoyed stare. "What ever happened to 'innocent until proven guilty'?"
The officer, who was named Wilkinson, smirked. "You've been watching too many muggle tv-shows Mr Potter. The DMLE can hold anyone it wants, and don't go asking for your 'solicitor' either, because I'm afraid you don't have that right either."
Harry, who'd been brought up-to-date with the injustices of the Wizarding legal system by one of Hermione's rants back in Hogwarts, was well aware of the fact, and therefore didn't respond to the comment.
"I didn't do anything wrong, so if you've finished asking me the same questions over and over, I'd appreciate being able to go home to my bed. It is two in the bloody morning!"
The second DMLE officer, the one apparently playing 'good cop', spoke up at this.
"I'm afraid, due to the seriousness of the accusations, we have to hold you here until you can be tested for use of the potion. That is, assuming you consent to being tested."
Harry, being quietly confident in regard to what the test would show, fixed his glare to this second man. "And if I don't consent?" he said.
The man blanched, apparently slightly shocked at the tone of voice. His colleague took over.
"In that case, you'd be placed in one of our holding cells until we could acquire the necessary legal documentation to force you to take the test." He gave Harry a sour look. "There's no wriggling out of this one Mr Potter, 'saviour' or not. You will have to take this test."
Harry sighed, leaning back in his rather uncomfortable chair. "There really is no point," he said, deciding to use his trump card, "I can tell you now that the result will be positive."
A collective gasp went up from the two DMLE officers.
"Then, you admit it?" the bad-cop said, leaning forward in his seat so far that he looked as if he was going to mount the table. Harry gave the man a small smile.
"No, I'm simply admitting having taken Felix Felicis sometime during my youth. The test, as I understand it, will only be able to tell if I've ever taken it, not when."
Wilkinson smirked, apparently not particularly worried by this fact. His confidence was such that Harry could feel a knot forming in his stomach. Was there some kind of new test potion?
"A likely story, Mr Potter, and something I've heard many times." Harry secretly thought it was very unlikely that he'd heard it before, considering only a handful of people alive could brew Felix without blowing their own heads off. "But I'm afraid, unless you've got proof of this, the Wizengamot isn't going to believe your statement."
Harry smirked right back at the officer, "What if I had the testimony of the person who supplied me with the potion? Would that count as 'proof'?"
The good-cop, who had stopped pacing and was now casually leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed, spoke up at this.
"You do understand that we can't take evidence like that from friends or family. It just wouldn't be credible for most the Wizengamot."
Harry couldn't help but chuckle, bringing the two DMLE officers to look at each other quizzically.
"I can't say I'm that close to Horace." Harry said eventually, "In fact, the last time I saw him was during a trip to Hogwarts last year, he's the Potions master there."
"You mean Slughorn? But, isn't he a member of the Order of the Phoenix?" said Wilkinson, "Just like yourself, meaning you have an obligation to help each other in circumstances like this."
Harry raised his eyebrow. "What gives you that idea?"
"Well..." said Wilkinson, faltering, "that's what secret societies are all about, aren't they?"
"It's hardly a 'secret society'," Harry said, "what with everyone in the wizarding world knowing who we are. Merlin, we get so many applications a day that a whole wing of our HQ is dedicated to destroying the damn things before we get buried in parchment."
"But that doesn't change the fact that members will endeavour to help each other out whenever possible." The second officer said from his position to the side.
"During times of war, perhaps, but they'd never risk doing anything like that over a Quidditch related charge. This is a professional matter that'll get me a ban, not a stint in Askaban, and anyway, I don't need 'helping'. I didn't do anything to need helping with."
Wilkinson harrumphed, "We'll see what the Wizengamot thinks about that."
"I still don't see why this needs to go quite that high. It's not like this is a murder trial or anything."
The DMLE officer narrowed his eyes. "On the contrary Mr Potter. The public take Quidditch very seriously, and therefore does the Wizengamot."
Harry sighed, resigned to the fact that he was going to have to go through with the test. Whoever it had been that gotten him to drink Felix Felicis had a lot to answer for, and finding the bastard would soon be at the top of Harry's priorities, but first he had to get out of this with his career still in one piece.
"Fine, I'll take the damn test, but as I've already said, I can tell you what it'll say."
The good-cop smiled. "Best to do it by the book Mr Potter. Wouldn't want anyone suspecting foul play, now would we?"
Potter Accused of Doping on Luck!
By Niall Lovebroom
Late last night, Harry Potter, Order of Merlin First Class, the star Seeker for the Norwich Flights and former Saviour of the Wizarding World, was arrested on charges of doping.
This unbelievable turn of fortune for the winner of the Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor Award (which has been retracted as of this morning) is ironic considering the substance he's being accused of using; Felix Felicis.
Also known as 'liquid luck', this is a relatively recently discovered potion that makes the consumer extremely lucky for a number of hours. As such, it has been very closely regulated in terms of sports and other official events, regulated in terms of it being totally illegal, with very harsh penalties to those who do use the substance.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has reportedly received insider information from staff at the Exmoor Quidditch stadium (where the Seeker ate his last meal before the game) that suggests an insider plot to rig the game, possibly in conjunction with high-risk bets. At this stage, it looks as if the Felix Felicis was used to make sure these very lucrative bets paid off.
Mr Potter, under questioning, has reportedly admitted that he has indeed taken the potion in his past, but denies having taken it the day in question. The Seeker openly allowed himself to be tested for the potion, which simply proved that Potter had taken the potion some time in his life.
An offical investigation had been started into the incident, but Potter has been released at this point, due to lack of evidence.
We'll bring you more as we hear it!
Draco sniggered, dropping the paper into a rubbish bin as he passed it on the street. Things were going better than he'd hoped. He had no idea where they got the idea that Potter was involved with high-risk betting scandals, but it was something that certainly gave the whole thing a little credibility. Those Weasley twins were well known for their gambling against impossible odds, and if Draco played his cards right, perhaps he could drop three birds with one stone; The Falcons, Potter and the Weasleys.
He stalked down the snowy street, his mind whirring with possible ways to exaggerate the situation, and almost didn't notice as he brushed roughly past a rather tightly-wrapped up man. Ignoring the man as he stumbled into a nearby wall, Draco turned into the next side-street.
The thickly-cloaked man turned to look back down the street to find the young man gone. His scarf had come partially loose, unveiling a hooked nose that anyone who knew him would recognise.
Unperturbed by Draco's disappearance, the man shook his head and continued his way down the street, re-covering his nose before it got too cold. There was no one else on the street, but if there were, they might have heard the man mumble something under his breath.
"Interesting..."
Ronald Weasley swore as he stepped out of the Floo, and right into the back of a stumbling Harry Potter.
"Bloody hell, Harry!" he said, offering a hand to the Seeker, who was now getting up off the floor.
"It's not my fault!" the boy countered as he took his friend's hand, "If you'd wait a few seconds for me to get out the way before coming through, you wouldn't walk into me like that."
Behind them, the Floo flared again, revealing a bushy head of brown hair as the flames subsided. Naturally, she walked straight into her finance, who was pushed into Harry, who once again found himself sprawled on the floor.
"What're you doing down there Harry?" she said, looking down at her friend as if he were sitting there by choice.
Harry and Ron exchanged a long suffering look, before Ron helped the Seeker back to his feet a second time.
"Now come on," Hermione said, striding past the pair towards the newly erected 'Statue to the Fallen' that replaced the destroyed bronze fountain in the Ministry of Magic, "You don't want to be late today Harry."
Harry groaned, thinking about the appearance he'd been summoned to, in front of the Wizengamot. He was sure he had a pretty watertight case, despite the fact that he'd actually been caught red-handed, but he was still nervous.
Ron and Harry quickly caught up with the Unspeakable, falling into step just behind her. It was one of the perks of being friends with an Unspeakable; everyone in the ministry tended to get out their way. Not that they didn't get out the way for Harry; the 'Boy-Who-Survived', or Ron; one of the most prolific Aurors ever, despite his still being a junior in the organisation. It was just that Hermione had gained the air of superiority that came with the title of 'Unspeakable', and after years of practice being the brains of the organisation that was the Golden Trio, she knew how to use it.
The three passed by the golden statue, pausing to remember those inscribed on the wings of the Phoenix as it rose from a golden fire. It had been the Wizarding world's way of paying their respect to the Order of the Phoenix. Every single member that perished had been hand-scribed into the wings of the great golden bird, one name per feather. At the time of unveiling, Harry had been slightly taken aback at the shear numbers of lives taken from the Order, but on reflection, Harry had decided that over the two wars, they were simply lucky that there weren't any more names adorning the Phoenix to which they'd given their lives.
They moved passed the statue, then the reception desk where Harry and Ron had their wands checked. Hermione's job came with more perks than people simply moving out of her way. In no time, they found themselves down in the corridor leading to the courtrooms. They were met there by a Purple-haired Auror, and a grizzled man who's grey hairs gave him an almost 'wolfish' appearance.
"Wotcher, Harry!" the Auror called out, waving enthusiastically at the scarred Seeker.
"Hi Tonks," Harry said, nodding his head to her, and then her companion, "Remus."
The werewolf grinned down at his best-friend's son, "It's good to see you, Harry. I just wish it was under better circumstances."
Harry nodded in agreement, before hugging the man. "If I'd known you were back from Albania, nothing could have stopped me inviting you over. As it is, I don't think I've got much to worry about. Slughorn might not like being called into an official investigation, what with his dubious past, but I can't imagine him turning down an opportunity to have something to hold over my head."
Ron and Tonks sniggered, whilst Hermione looked on disapprovingly.
"This isn't a laughing matter, Ron!" she said, choosing her usual target. As the couple went into the motions of another argument, Harry caught Remus' eye.
"And you live with these two?" Remus said under his breath to Harry as they watched Ron go through the emotions of 'taken aback' to 'downright offended' in less than a second.
Harry grimaced as he saw the argument go into 'stage three' as he'd coined it; where Hermione started fingering her wand in a threatening manner.
"Yeh, well, they're getting married soon aren't they. Hopefully they'll want their own space and move out within the year. Merlin knows they earn enough between them to get their own place."
It seemed both Remus and Tonks had noticed Hermione's wand by this stage and, unused to the bickering pair, were looking slightly uneasy. Harry decided to leave them to it.
"Well," he said, "I need to get going, I believe they're waiting for me." Remus gave him a slightly panicked look as Ron took out his own wand, but Harry just smiled encouragingly. "Don't worry," he said, clapping the werewolf on the shoulder as he passed, "As long as you stay out the way, you've got nothing to worry about. Ron knows what he's doing."
Remus gave him another panicked look, but Harry was gone, and had already reached the solid wooden door that was the entrance to the courtroom before Remus could call him back.
Naturally, the door was guarded by two DMLE officers. One of them towered over Harry, looking down at the young Seeker with a mixture of suspicion and concealed awe. The other was less subtle, and at only half Harry's height, Harry felt as if he was meeting a twelve-year-old Quidditch fan. Out of habit he found himself tempted to ask if the man wanted an autograph. He only just managed to stop himself, shuddering at the shocking similarities between himself and Lockhart, before his 'accident' anyway.
Distracting himself from the situation as he waited to be called in, Harry looked back down the corridor, and while he could no longer see the commotion, he could still hear Hermione's high-pitched tones trading blows with Ron's baritone exclamations. After a few seconds there were two flashes of light, pink and green, before an almost deathly silence.
Harry chuckled to himself as he imagined Remus and Tonk's faces; it would be the same face that everyone had on their first showing of a Weasley-Granger match-up. That of absolute terror.
Their first ever 'real' fight had been during their hunt for Horcruxes. They'd been in Tunisia, looking for the tomb of a long-dead dark lord, and Ron had accidentally mentioned something about how he'd rather be having breakfast than breaking into a muggle library at five in the morning.
Harry, thinking it would be one of their usual scuffles, paid it no attention until he turned around to find the pair holding their wands on each other. It was inevitable, he assured himself at the time, that eventually there would be a little in-fighting due to stress, but it was still a little disconcerting to actually see it happen, especially in the middle of a time-sensitive mission, where they had to leave no trace of their presence.
Harry listened as he heard voices once again sound from down the corridor, a door opening and then the voices disappear with the clunk of the door closing once more.
So that was it, just him left, along with his 'escort' of course. Before long, a knock came at his own door, and one of the DMLE officers, the tall one, opened it. He exchanged a few muffled words with someone on the other side, and then turned back to Harry.
"It's time." he said simply, pushing the door open to reveal the oval shaped room with an ominously chained chair sitting centre stage.
Harry swallowed, stepping into the courtroom that would surely decide his future in sport.
Hah, doesn't that just sound like a cliffe... It's not really, but it is in a way I suppose. Anyway, as I said, sorry about the length, I'll endeavour to make the next instalment a little longer than 'Par' to make it up to yous.
Thank you for reading, and an extra special thank you to those who are about to review. They really do mean a lot to me and my motivation takes a real hype when I receive them. I do also listen to people if they correct me anywhere, so please don't keep silent if you do want to make a complaint about my writing concerning grammatical or content errors.
Feedback can only help be grow as a writer! (Although it can also grow my head too...)
Chris
