A/N: Hello, everyone! It's been more than a week, so I'm sad that my creative abilities died for a while. But, through judicious use of Dark rituals best left untouched, I have ressurected my muse, and can write more about this story. Dumbledore's trial still hasn't happened yet, and Harry's custody hearing is coming up. Also, I have very minimal knowledge of law. Seriously. My knowledge of British law extends to; murder is illegal, and so is stealing. And child abuse. That's it. Worse still, I actually live in Britain! As always, I own nothing, except the twisted brain that creates these ideas. And even then, I could argue that my parents have some claim to it...oh dear. I think I depressed myself. Better get on with the story.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~CIRCLE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Severus Snape was sore. Sore, tired, cold and wet. Not to mention hungry. After the gourmet meals available at Hogwarts, prison food didn't really compare very positively. And now he had been yanked from his cell and dragged into an interrogation room, waiting to find out who would be questioning him today. The door clicked open, and a few seconds later closed again, two new people entering the room.
"Bones. And one of the Unspeakables, too?" That wasn't good. If the Unspeakables were getting involved in the questioning...well, Snape had heard the rumours about their methods of extracting information.
"Prisoner. I'm here to ask if you would like a deal?"
Snape's head shot up in surprise. Bones had him on the back foot, even Albus wouldn't be able to keep him from losing his job over this incident. Why was she offering him a deal? "What kind of deal?"
"The one-time-only kind. Say no even once, it's off the table, and you can wish the Dementors a Merry Christmas at the end of the year."
"I'll need to know what kind of deal you're offering before I agree to anything."
"Fair enough. My...associate here, would like to do some research. Unfortunately, he needs a test subject, and they aren't very good at letting prisoners out of Azkaban for day trips, as you well know."
"Research regarding the Dark Lord's old followers?"
"Not exactly. More specifically, the Dark Mark. What it is and can do. We need access to someone with the Dark Mark, and you just so happen to be here. Fortuitous circumstance, don't you think?"
"Indeed. What do I get out of this?"
"Very simple. Instead of a life sentence in Azkaban for attempted murder, we'll convict on assault charges, and give you a five year stint in a medium security, Dementor-free prison. After your sentence expires, we'll set you up with a house in another country, and you'll be free to leave both your masters behind."
Snape blinked, hardly daring to believe what Bones was saying. "You're telling me that if I let the Unspeakables do a bit of research on me, I'll get what amounts to a basic pardon?"
"Yes. There is one other proviso, however. If you accept the deal, then once your prison sentence expires, you will be exiled from Britain for the remainder of your life. And should you choose not to accept the deal, I'll leave the room for ten minutes, and whatever my friend here says happens in that time, is what happened. Believe me when I say that the Department of Mysteries is quite...eager, to study that tattoo on your arm."
Gulping, Snape acknowledged her stament with a nod. The DoM didn't need him, just his arm. This deal was a courtesy, nothing more. "In that case, Amelia, I believe I'll take you up on the offer." The shark-like smile that found it's way onto Amelia Bones' face had Snape wondering for a moment if he had picked the right option.
"Glad to hear that you have some modicum of intelligence in that skull of yours, Snape. Croaker, he's yours. Just make sure he's fit to stand trial in three days time."
Amelia stood up, and walked out the room, leaving Croaker to take Snape into one of the Unspeakable's examination rooms. Heading back to her office, she was waylaid by twelve assistant clerks from her department, all carrying stacks of parchment that could rival her niece in height.
"Alright, who the hell refused to do their paperwork this time?"
"Er...no, Madame Bones, that's not it. These all just arrived just now, or thereabouts. They're from various parents, all writing to inform us that they plan to sue Dumbledore for child endangerment. At least, all the ones we've managed to get through so far have been about that. Or Snape. A whole bunch want to sue him for something too."
"Dear Merlin. How many of these are there?"
"Current total is somewhere around six to seven hundred, ma'am."
"I...see. Very well, return an acknowledgement, and ask them to make an appointment with me. If possible, get all the members of one family to make one appointment between them."
"Amelia." The frost in that tone could only mean one thing. Turning round, Amelia was met with the sight of the last person on earth that she wanted to speak to today. Short, pudgy - if you were being polite - and with all the charisma and appeal of a squashed toad - and the features of one, too, Amelia thought, - Dolores Jane Umbridge was the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. Which basically meant that she was Fudge's yes-man - or woman, in this case.
"Dolores." Polite, properly spoken, and frigid as an Arctic ice cap in the middle of the coldest day in winter. While you were sitting naked three feet inside it. That was how frosty tones of voice should be done, and Amelia mentally patted herself on the back when she saw that one of the assisstants was now trembling slightly. In her line of work, intimidation was a valuable asset. Unfortunately, either Umbridge was immune to her tone of voice, or more likely, she was simply ignoring everything Amelia said that didn't sound like a way to worship Cornelius Fudge.
"The Minister has asked me to find out when Mr Potter will be brought in for his custody hearing."
"I'm sure he has. Unfortunately, Cornelius doesn't seem to realize that when someone is forcibly possessed, even temporarily, by so powerful and malevolent a spirit as this one, that person cannot simply stand up and shrug it off like it was nothing. Mr Potter will be here when he is able to stay awake for an hour without it rendering him as weak as a newborn kitten, Dolores. Was there anything else?"
Even Umbridge wasn't stupid enough to miss the hint of venom in Amelia's voice, that said there had better not be anything else. "Very well. But Lord Malfoy is rather anxious to meet his new ward, Amelia. It won't do to keep such a prominent member of society waiting."
Refraining from telling Dolores that Lucius Malfoy could go bugger himself with that gaudy cane of his, Amelia smiled. One of the assistants whimpered audibly, and two more scrambled backwards. "I was unaware that the custody hearing had already been held, Dolores. I thought that since both the Malfoys and the Flamels have offered to take young Harry in, there would be such a thing?"
Stumbling over her words, Dolores was clearly out of her comfort zone. "Yes, well. Surely you can see that it is inevitable, after all, the Flamels may be famous, but they have not raised a child in several centuries. I doubt they would even know how."
Amelia was pissed off. This arrogant little bitch thought that she was queen bee in this hive, but Amelia Bones hadn't got where she was by rolling over and playing dead. "Given that Nicholas Flamel is currently refusing to leave the Hogwarts hospital wing without a complete assurance of his grandson's health, while Lucius Malfoy attends some Italian nobleman's cocktail party, I think it is obvious which of the two is a better, more responsible guardian." The emphasis on the word responsible was obvious from three hallways away.
Umbridge puffed herself up in indignation, but before she even had the chance to say anything, Amelia brushed past her, beckoning the aides to follow her to her office. "You can tell Cornelius that Harry will be here when he is well enough to be here, Dolores. And not a minute sooner." Entering her office, Amelia allowed herself a smile. Ruining Dolores' day was always fun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MATRIX~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unaware that he was being discussed in the Ministry of Magic, Nicholas Flamel was currently watching over his grandson. They had decided that for convienences sake, they would simply refer to Harry as Nicholas' grandson, ignoring the fifty or so greats in front of that title.
"Mr Flamel?"
Turning his head, he realized it was Harry's friend that had spoken. Hermione, if his memory was working. "Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Um...well...I was just thinking about something you said earlier. You said you were nearly a thousand years old. But the book we read said you were only about six hundred years old."
Harry had stopped pretending to be asleep at this point, and was paying attention, curiosity evident on his face. Nicholas handed him a glass of water and several potions to be taken, before continuing his conversation.
"May I see the book in question?" When Hermione produced it from her bag, Nicholas looked it over, before laughing slightly. "I see where the confusion has come from. Tell me, Miss Granger, when was this book printed?"
"When was it printed? I...don't know. Recently?"
"Try nearly four hundred years ago. Perenelle and I sold the cottage in Devon two centuries ago, and moved to a nice little hamlet in the north of Scotland."
"Wow. So, if you're nearly a millenium old, does that mean you knew the Founders of Hogwarts?"
Nicholas laughed at the question. "Knew them? I married Helga's sister, my dear. I helped them by teaching Alchemy at Hogwarts for about five years, as a favour."
"Wait. Perenelle Flamel is Helga Hufflepuff's sister?"
"Oh yes, Mr Weasley. Not many people know about the real lives of the founders anymore. It's all romanticized ballad this, epic tale that. No one seems to care about the true history."
"So you know why Salazar left the school then!"
"Oh, yes. Salazar was a brilliant student. Quite taken with Alchemy, too. I have no doubt that if I had stayed, he would have asked me for an apprenticeship. I'd have taken him on, too. Brilliant mind, shrewd as you like, but very quiet. Didn't really like socialising all that much. But Godric kept trying to get the man to open up, forcing him to interact with people when he didn't want to do so. Eventually, Salazar snapped, yelled at Godric that his life's blood was worth less than mud in Salazar's eyes after all the annoyances he'd suffered from Godric, then left the school."
"What?!" Three voices yelped in surprise, before Ron spoke up. "But, sir, we always got told that Salazar left the school because he hated Muggleborns. That he was the person who first called someone a...Mudblood." Ron shut up and looked around in case his mother had heard him.
"Oh dear. History does seem to have twisted around quite a bit, doesn't it? I can understand where the mudblood thing came from, Salazar did essentially create that insult, but it was meant to be used for those you held in great contempt. It didn't have anything to do with being born to non-magical parents. It actually meant that the person was worthless in your eyes, lower than dirt. And as for Salazar hating Muggleborn, that's nonsense. Certainly, he disliked the fact that they had so little education, but he didn't hate them personally."
"What do you mean, 'so little education'?"
"You must remember, Harry, back in the Middle Ages, Muggleborn would have been born to peasant farmers and blacksmiths. There might have been one or two people in every village who could read and write. Magical-born children, however, were often taught from birth by their parents, in order to make them attractive choices for an apprenticeship to a Master in a certain field of magic. As such, when the Muggleborn arrived at Hogwarts, they were uncouth, illiterate, God-fearing peasants, and the so-called 'pureblood' children looked down on them for it. That was why Salazar proposed to the other Founders that they separate the Muggleborn from the purebloods for the first year of their education, in order to teach them basic reading and writing skills. Helga agreed quite readily, but said that someone else would have to teach the class, since she was already overly busy. Rowena was too...self-absorbed. She didn't really care what happened, so long as she could continue to be seen as the smartest witch in the land."
"What about Gryffindor?"
"I'm getting there, lad. Godric was rather...well, the nicest way of putting it would be to say he was hit over the head with a shield one time too many. He turned rather...funny, later in life. He just didn't see the point of the excercise, and kept insisting that if that was done, then it would only foster further tension between the two factions. Salazar couldn't convince them to see the merit of his idea, and so he simply taught those skills to the Muggleborn that were sorted into his house. Coincidentally, Slytherin house's grades suddenly shot up in comparison, which led to quite a few screaming matches with Rowena. I suppose that might have been another reason why he left in the end."
"Wow. So the whole idea that Salazar Slytherin wanted to segragate Muggleborns was true, in a roundabout way. But he wasn't doing it to hurt them."
"No, indeed not, Miss Granger. Salazar was the one who originally came up with the idea for Hogwarts. Though it must be said, the name was not his idea. That was Godric's contribution to the magnum opus."
Sitting back, Nicholas looked at the three rather shellshocked students before him. It was understandable, he mused. Their entire perception of history had just been turned on it's head, and that would always take a while to recover from. Unsurprisingly, it was Hermione who recovered first.
"Okay, so what about Alchemy? You must know every alchemist in the last thousand years, right? Was Isaac Newton really an alchemist? What about all the other famous historical alchemists, like Tycho Brahe and the like?"
"Ah, now there is an interesting question. Harry already knows this, no doubt, but alchemy does not require that any magic be used. However, it does require an active magical core to activate the transmutation circle. So while it will not lead to magical exhaustion, only a magical being can use alchemy. Centaurs are very good with the art."
"Really? So all the famous Muggle alchemists weren't actually practicing alchemy at all? And what about centaurs? How do they perform alchemy?"
Nicholas smiled to himself. Harry was asking questions about Alchemy, and that was a start. His grandson might be nervous for a while, but Nicholas would prove that Harry had nothing to fear any longer. "Ah, Harry. You truly are an alchemist. The one common aspect of every alchemist, is their insatiable thirst for knowledge, you see. But to answer your questions, no, no Muggle can perform alchemy. What they were practicing was actually a rudimentary form of chemistry. As for centaurs, I confess that they have never shared their secrets with me. All I know for certain is that the centaurian brand of alchemy is known as alkahestry, and it is used for medicinal purposes most often."
"Woah. So how do you do alchemy?"
"Well, Mr Weasley, there are three stage in alchemic transmutation. Harry, do you remember what they are?"
Harry nodded, before launching into an explanation for Ron and Hermione. "Alchemy is performed in three main stages. Analysis, Deconstruction, and Reconstruction. Analysis is the stage at which you understand an object. What it's made of, how much mass is contained within it, that sort of thing. Deconstruction is where you break the object down into it's most basic components, while Reconstruction is the stage where you recombine those base components in a new form, to obtain the object you want."
"Wow, Harry. You sounded really smart there. You really know what you're talking about when it comes to alchemy, don't you?"
"It's like...remember the feeling I described to you when I was on a broom for the first time, Hermione? How I just, instinctively knew what I had to do, that if I leaned to the left slightly, the broom would stop listing to the right and down? Alchemy just...has that same feeling."
"I understand what you mean, Harry. All true alchemists have felt that same calling. The power of the transmutation circle sings in our blood, in our very soul. To us, alchemy is as instinctive as breathing. No matter what path you took in life, you would always use alchemy at some point."
Hermione was frowning slightly. "Mr Flamel, alchemy is the ability to change one object into another, isn't it? Isn't that just the same as transfiguration, though?"
"Ah, an excellent question, my dear. The key difference between alchemy and transfiguration, is that alchemic transmutations permanently alter the entire makeup of an object. A transfigured object may look different, but eventually, the spell will always fade, and the object will return to it's original shape. Not so with alchemy. The only way to return a transmuted object to it's base form, is to transmute it again, into the original object. Here, an example."
Nicholas took out an incredibly old, yet well cared for wand, and waved it at the glass on Harry's bedside. Almost instantly, the glass turned into a fine crystal goblet of equal size and shape. Ten seconds later, the goblet reverted back into an old glass with a chip on the side. Nicholas clapped his hands together, a blue glow springing up around them, and touched the glass. The glass shifted, and the same crystal goblet appeared, though it was now much smaller than before. Ten seconds came and went, and Hermione stared at the goblet for three minutes and twenty three seconds - Harry counted.
"Why is it smaller than before?"
Harry fielded the question this time, happy that he finally knew something Hermione didn't. "That's the Law of Equivalent Exchange. In order to obtain, something of equal value must be lost. Based on the relative atomic masses of the glass and crystal, when the conversion occured, there was less crystal than there was glass, so the crystal goblet became smaller to compensate for the loss of mass."
Ron leaned over to Nicholas. "I don't understand a word of this, sir."
"That's perfectly alright, young man. Not everyone is good at the same things, you know. No doubt you will one day find something that no one can do as well as you. The fact that you don't understand what your friends are speaking about, yet you still stay and listen to them, speaks volumes about your character. Such loyalty is commendable."
Ron's face turned red, and he muttered a quick thanks. Harry tried to sit up once more, to get some more water, but went crashing back towards the bed. Nicholas and Hermione both leapt towards him, but Ron pulled out his wand and cast the levitation charm, catching Harry before either of the other two got near him. Harry blinked in surprise, before realizing what had happened.
"Um...thanks, Ron. Sorry Hermione, Mr Flamel. I didn't mean to worry you."
"You see, young man? Loyal and quick-thinking. You underestimate yourself, I think."
Ron's ears turned pinkish-red, and Harry and Hermione laughed. After a few moments, Ron joined in. 'Yeah,' he thought to himself, 'maybe there is a place for me.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BODY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The court is now in session! On trial today, Albus Dumbledore vs Magical Britain. Bailiff, please read the charges."
"Yes sir. The defendant is accused of child endangerment, illegally tampering with people's mail, and attempted kidnapping with intent to forcibly alter the memories of several minors."
"How many counts of each?"
"Eight counts of attempted kidnapping, seven hundred and thirty two counts of child endangerment, and eight hundred and eighty seven counts of illegally tampering with a person's mail."
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you have heard the charges against you. How do you plead?"
"I plead not guilty, your Honour."
Cornelius Fudge sighed in resignment. "Very well. Please begin your testimony, Mr Dumbledore."
"As you wish, your Honour. On the day in question, I had seen the sign that had been placed above the Astronomy Tower. Naturally, I was curious, and when I arrived, I questioned the students about it. At that time, Miss Dunbar ran in, exclaiming that someone had broken through the defenses protecting the Philosopher's Stone that was being safeguarded by the school. As was my job, I saw to the safety of the students, escorting them to my office to ensure their safety."
'Bullshit,' Amelia thought to herself. But she knew that if this kept up, Dumbledore would actually bloody slide out of this squeaky clean.
"Very well. Putting that aside, what do you have to say in regards to the fact that a powerful, malevolent wraith had possessed one of your teachers, and was attempted to steal the Philosopher's Stone?"
"Granted, Quirinus was possessed. However, when I hired him, he was not possessed, as the wards around my office detected no signs of any such possession."
"And why did you not simply ask all the staff to come to your office when it became clear that one of them was trying to steal the Stone?"
"I am afraid that I was not actually aware of the fact that someone was attempting to steal the Stone until Miss Dunbar informed me. By that point, it was rather late to call a meeting with every teacher. I regret that I did not notice his possession sooner, but he was nervous when he returned from his holidays, and that didn't change after I hired him. I had no reason to be suspicious of him, I'm afraid."
"Very well. The mail wards, why were they placed? You are aware it is illegal to place any form of mail-blocking ward without permission from the Department of Communication at the Ministry?"
"I am aware that it is illegal to place such mail wards, however I can assure the court that I only did this with the best of intentions. Given that a troll had entered the castle, I worried that it would cause a panic were word to spread, so I took action to prevent such a panic. I am aware that my actions were illegal, and I will accept any fines this court may levy upon me."
Amelia ground her teeth together in frustration. All these reasons were very good, and worse still, the Ministry couldn't disprove any of them. And now the wrinkled old bastard was playing the sad, penitent old man card, too! Then she spotted the chink in his armour, and took her chance.
"A troll entered the castle, Albus? Seems a little suspicious to me, don't you think? Particularly when it is well known that only a member of Hogwarts staff would be able to disable the ward prevent such a dangerous being from entering the grounds? Surely that should have alerted you to the fact that one of your staff was not who they seemed? Shouldn't you have called them up to your office, one at a time, to question them about any possible connection to the troll incident. Starting with Quirrell, since he was the one who claimed to have found the troll in the first place?"
Dumbledore blinked, and Amelia thought she saw a bead of sweat appear on his brow. Well, good. If he was nervous, he was more likely to make further mistakes. Cornelius started talking again. "These are good points, Albus. I would also like an answer to them, if you don't mind."
"W-well, given that...I mean, the school was rather chaotic at that point, and then there was the Quidditch match, so..."
Amelia spotted an opening, and took it. "Quidditch match? Surely, Albus, you aren't suggesting to me that you value a game above the lives of every child in Magical Britain?" Murmurs of outrage filled the public viewing stands, and Amelia could have sworn she heard some of the old lords in the Wizengamot muttering to themselves as well.
"No! I simply meant that the incident at the match drove the troll out of my mind, that's all!"
Amelia's mother had told her something once. 'Whether it's a boy, or a victory in politics, take whatever advantages you can get, and punch right through the opposition.' Amelia had lived her life by those words, and she wasn't about to stop now. "Incident? What incident would that be?"
Albus was sweating buckets at this point. That blasted Bones woman just wouldn't stop! If this kept up, none of his carefully planned excuses would have any effect. Already, the public was against him, and even some of the Wizengamot was turning against him. "Well, the incident involving Mr Potter's broom."
"I see. Perhaps you could give us some details?"
"Well, it appears that someone had placed a Hurling Hex on Mr Potter's broomstick, which caused him to nearly be unseated."
"I see. So the life of a national icon, the Boy-Who-Lived no less, was threatened, and according to statements from several students, you refused to call in the Auror Corps to investigate. Why? Did you want Mr Potter to die? Were you trying to protect a member of your staff? Why, by Merlin's sacred grimoire, would you not call in an Auror to investigate an attempted murder by a member of your staff? This court is already aware that the wards around the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts allows only the staff to cast spells during a game, meaning only a member of staff could have cast the spell. Surely at this point, you should have called your staff into your office and extensively questioned them, Albus?! What I want to know, is why didn't you?"
The public gallery was filled with witches and wizards who were now baying for Albus Dumbledore's blood, and Amelia was only too happy to provide. The Wizengamot had gone from hastily stifled mutterings to open and blatant questions between members as to Albus' senility. Amelia wasn't going to stop, though. Resting on her laurels now would only give Dumbledore time to regroup.
Albus' robes felt too tight around the neck. Or perhaps he was simply feeling the shade of the noose that Bones was tying round his neck with every question. She had already whipped the public into a frenzy, and even the stuffiest of the Wizengamot lords and ladies were now openly muttering amongst themselves about him. "I did call in someone to investigate. Master Auror Alastor Moody offered to help investigate. I had assumed that he would inform the DMLE immediately, Amelia." There. If in doubt, shift some blame, and pray that it works.
"Master Auror Moody has already spoken to me about his actions. He regretted that he did not follow the correct protocols in this situation, but he said that you specifically asked him not to say anything. He resigned his commission yesterday, explaining that he felt too much remorse over his mistakes to continue as an officer of the law. I applaud his courage in being able to make that decision, and humble himself in that way. He was a good man, an excellent Auror, and he will be sorely missed by our department."
Damn. Bones took his redirect and threw it in his face, and now the crowd seemed even angrier with him. Albus knew he needed something to get some breathing space, but he was struggling to think of anything.
Amelia applauded herself mentally. Albus had tried to shift the blame, as she had suspected, but she had managed to not only pull the rug out from under his feet, but gain sympathy for Alastor, and paint Albus as the villain in this play. If she could keep this up, she might even manage to get a couple more convictions than she had expected.
"Amelia, I acknowledge that I should have informed you, but failing to do so is not illegal, so why are you so fixated upon this topic?" Well, damn. Dumbledore had come back with a fair point. There wasn't any reason for her to fixate on this point, except to try and expose more wrongdoing. She had to think on her feet, and fast. Fortunately, that was a Bones family specialty.
"I am fixating upon this topic, Albus, because you endangered the life of at least one innocent child by your failure to inform the Aurors, and potentially hundreds more! That to me, simply stinks of incompetence, or worse yet, the fact that you yourself were complicit in these actions!" There, throw that back at her, you wrinkled old goat botherer.
"I know you must be worried about Susan's safety, Amelia, but I assure you I was doing everything I could to make the school safe again."
Oh, he did not. He did not just drag her niece into this. Fire in her eyes, Amelia's next statement reminded everyone present just why the Bones family crest was a mother dragon guarding her nest. "HOW DARE YOU! How dare you bring my niece into this, you sanctimonious old bastard! You know full well you were doing sweet fuck-all to make things safer at that school, and you have the audacity to use the last living member of my family against me like this?! Not only did you not call in the Aurors like you should have, less than a week after both incidents, the man responsible magically assaulted two students, knocking them unconscious, before attempting to steal the Philosopher's Stone! Three eleven year olds had to stop him, and if it weren't for Harry's quick thinking, they would all be dead right now! How dare you stand there, and tell me you made that school safer?! How dare you?"
Amelia was panting and out of breath at the end of her rant. In the gallery, Algernon Graves' shoulders slumped, only to rise again when he saw nearly everyone in the room rise to their feet and hurl epithets that would have got their mouths washed out with soap at Albus. Eyes wide, Algernon realised that Amelia had actually managed to lose her cool, yet still condemn Dumbledore. The man would be lucky to walk out of here alive, after this.
Cornelius was banging his gavel for all he was worth, but for all the effect it had, he might as well have thrown a squeaky dog toy at Dumbledore. Actually, if he had done that, he would probably have secured his re-election for the next term in office. "Enough! Order in the courtroom! I said, ORDER!" One of the Aurors used a noise making spell to let off a sound like a cannon blast, effectively silencing the room. "Thank you. I think that the Wizengamot has heard all we need to hear in order to make a decision. The Wizengamot will retire to decide on a verdict."
A powerful silencing ward went up around the members of the Wizengamot, and it was quite obvious, even without sound, that the whole thing was rather polarising. Amelia sighed in relief when she realised that the majority was voting for at least a partial conviction. Watching as the wards came down, she - along with everyone else in the courtroom - fixed her eyes on the Minister. For the first time since he became Minister, everyone wanted to hear what Cornelius Fudge had to say.
"On the charges of attempted kidnapping, the Wizengamot finds Albus Dumbledore...not guilty." Amelia's heart sank. They couldn't lose now. What had happened? "On the charges of child endangerment, the Wizengamot has voted to convict on only one count, as the other counts could not be conclusively proven." One charge of child endangerment was enough. It ensured that no matter what else happened, Dumbledore would never be a teacher or member of staff at Hogwarts again. "On the charges of illegally tampering with a person's mail, the Wizengamot finds Albus Dumbledore...guilty, on all counts."
Amelia relaxed. It wasn't what she had aimed for, but it was enough that Hogwarts would at least be safe from Dumbledore's little games. And the fines alone would probably bankrupt him, too.
"The sentence passed is thus. Albus Dumbledore is hereby fired from his position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, shall be forbidden to work with children in any capacity, and a restraining order shall be placed on him, forbidding him from going within two hundred yards of Harry James Potter." Amelia's jaw dropped. That hadn't been expected at all. Was Fudge actually being...competent? It was a scary thought. "Furthermore, for every person whose mail was inntercepted by Mr Dumbledore's wards, two hundred Galleons in compensation will be paid, from the convictee's own personal funds. Albus Dumbledore, you have two years in which to pay back the appropriate amounts, after which all assets belonging to the Dumbledore family will be siezed. Case closed!"
The ringing of the gavel was sweet music to Amelia's ears. She couldn't believe Dumbledore hadn't managed to wriggle out of as much as she had expected. There would be good news to give to the Flamels and Harry, she thought as she left the courtroom, noticing Alastor Moody standing in the public gallery as she left. He caught her eye, and nodded in thanks. She had helped him keep his name relatively intact, and prevented his reputation from being dragged through the mud. Whistling to herself, Amelia headed back to her office to finish her paperwork for the day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SOUL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: There you go, Dumbledore's trial is complete! Was the verdict what you hoped for? The Dursley's trial won't actually be shown, and they'll probably never be seen in the story again. That chapter in Harry's life is over, permanently. All you really need to know is, Vernon is in jail, Petunia and Dudley moved house to avoid the gossip, and Harry never has to see them again. Please remember to review, and once again, has anyone seen the episodes of Doctor Who with the Slitheen? If so, doesn't Umbridge look like Margaret Blaine from those episodes? Just curious whether anyone else thinks this.
