Chapter 26 – Trial by Fire, Part 6
"The fiery trial through which we pass, will light us down, in honor or dishonor, to the latest generation." – Abraham Lincoln (1809–1865), U.S. president
Wednesday, July 5th 1992
The Huntzberger Institute for Higher Learning, New York
"Sera, I want you to list all the things you saw in the previous picture I showed you that are not in this picture. On the count of three. One… two… three."
Norstadt clicked the stop-watch. As it began ticking off the seconds, Sera wrote furiously on the paper numbered from one through thirty-five.
"And stop," he said after the allotted seven minutes.
Norstadt frowned slightly as he checked Sera's list against the answer sheet.
The first picture was a photograph of a street scene. The second picture was of the same scene with various differences. Some alterations were obvious: a missing stop sign, an added fence, a man replaced by a woman etc. Other changes were subtler: a man wearing a different colored tie, a 'No Parking' Sign from 9am to 5pm now read 'No Parking' from 7am to 3pm, the clouds were positioned differently, and so on.
The picture completion portion of the Weschler-intelligence-quotient test measured visual perception, long-term visual memory, and the ability to differentiate essential from inessential details. The average ten year-old could correctly list between fifteen and twenty differences between the two pictures. Above-Average scored twenty-five. Superior thirty.
Sera had thirty-six answers, which explains Norstadt's dower demeanor, since there were only thirty-five blanks.
He guffawed as he realized that his pupil had noticed what the test preparers had overlooked. In the far bottom right corner of the first picture was printed the number 1 and the on the second picture was the number 2.
They were nearing the end of the three-hour examination. Norstadt pulled out another stack of picture cards.
"Sera, I want you to arrange these pictures to tell a story." This would be harder for her. Although, she'd almost certainly order the pictures in the correct sequence, the exercise also required her to demonstrate a nonverbal understanding of social interaction.
But Sera's attention was drawn to something else away from the table and picture cards. Her gaze was locked on some distant point of the floor.
"What are you thinking about?" Norstadt asked as he tried to follow her line of sight.
She remained silent and still.
"Sera," Norstadt called again. "Sera!"
He clapped twice close to her ear.
She startled and Norstadt breathed a sigh of relief.
"Why didn't you answer me when I called you?" he asked sternly.
"I did not hear you."
Deafness was not the issue. Sera's intense concentration – that ability to drown out everything around you and focus on a single object was part of her 'gift.' This quality coupled with her advanced learning capabilities allowed her to excel in certain academic and magical subjects like mathematics and charms that required precision and mental concentration.
It had amused her brother, Danny, for a period of time, to shout, "Fire!" at her while she was working out a math problem or reading a book. She paid him no mind. And it wasn't because she intentionally ignored his antics or believed he was lying. It was because she was 'lost' – lost in that extraordinary mind of hers.
The technical term to describe Sera's attention span was monotropism. Every person has a limited availability of attention because there were only so many metabolites available in the brain. Due to Sera's altered brain chemistry, she had a tendency to focus on a single object or task rather than distribute that attention more broadly, as was normal in most people.
It was a source of anxiety to her parents. What if indeed, there was a fire, and she was too engrossed in some thought or project? Would she fail to heed the sounding sirens or blaring alarms? At this point, all signs pointed to 'yes.'
Sera lifted her head so she could discreetly glance over at her teacher from the corner of her eye. She perceived disapproval in Norstadt's worried frown. His blond eyebrows were pushed together and his mouth had the classic upward arc of an unhappy face.
"I am sorry. What did you say?" she said kicking her feet beneath her, though her head was still down, causing her long black hair to fall own the sides of her face like raven's wings.
"I wanted to know what you were thinking," he said.
"I was thinking about triangles," she said simply, once again studying the pattern of tiles on the floor. "In right-angled triangles, the square on the side subtending the right angle is equal to the squares of the sides containing the right angle."
The tiles were positioned in a rectangular brick pattern with no triangles present.
"What makes you think about triangles? Where do you see them?" he asked.
"Any polygon can be broken up into triangles," she replied. "It is interesting."
"It's good to have interests, Sera. But right now, you're taking a test, remember?" Norstadt reminded her.
"The test is not interesting," she remarked, but nonetheless obeyed.
Present-Day
Saturday, October 12th 1996
Keating Estate, Virginia
Engels capped the needle and replaced the bottled solution back into her medical bag.
Rick and Bev were at their daughter's bedside.
"Drink some water, baby," Bev said placing the glass close to her daughter's parched lips.
Rick transfigured one of the pencils on her desk into a straw. Sera sipped momentarily.
"You scared us, sweetheart," he said, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.
"I am sorry, father," she said tiredly. "I did not intend to."
"Honey, you have to look at me when I'm speaking to you," Rick admonished her.
"I am sorry," she apologized again, this time meeting his worried blue eyes.
"She may be disoriented," Engels explained, "But … well you know the side-effects."
"Thank you for coming, Elaine," Bev said gratefully.
She nodded in reply and opened the door to let the rest of the anxious Keatings know that their youngest member was recovering.
"I don't know what we'd do without you," Rick agreed as he stepped out into the hall with her. "I'll take you home now, I'm sure you've got patients to see – other lives to save."
"Uh… if Dr. Engels doesn't object, I'd like to apparate with her back to the city," interjected Bailey. "There are some papers waiting for me at the office," he offered. Rick's drawn and tired face gave Bailey the impression that his law partner wasn't fit to apparate across the street much less across three states.
"Sera needs both her parents," Engels concurred.
"Thank you Ben," Rick said appreciatively.
Bailey and Engels walked out onto the grounds. Golden brown leaves littered the pathway. There was a bare cherry blossom tree that marked the point at which appartition was possible some yards away from Keating Hall.
"Dr. Engels, what happened to Sera?" Bailey asked as they walked.
"You should know better councilor," Engels responded stiffly. "Patient-doctor confidentiality."
"I need to know as her attorney," he said stuffing his hands in the pockets of his gray trousers. "They've subpoenaed her testimony."
"They wouldn't," Engels said stopping in her tracks to face him, "She can't testify."
"I need a medical reason," Bailey informed her.
"I'm not sure there's one to give," Engels said, wrapping her arms around herself in the chilly winds. The Keatings had never told her their daughter had been adopted. Bev and Rick meant no malice by it but they had misled her. Over the last few weeks, Elaine had spent much of the time revising her treatment plans accordingly.
"I've had to rethink everything even the diagnosis, Mr. Bailey," she began again, resuming her steps towards the white-barked tree. "Knowing now, that Sera was adopted opens up the possibility that her illness is hereditary. But I don't have access to the Black or Lestrange genealogical records and I doubt they would have recorded any neurological or psychiatric disorders that run in their families.
"However, I also don't think what Sera suffers from could be inherited. I think… and this is highly theoretical and unproven… I think the Dementors did something or affected Sera, in utero."
Bailey removed his hands from his pockets, and glanced over at Engels to ask, "How is that possible?"
"When a mother carries a child, Mr. Bailey, they are inextricably linked together," the doctor said, intertwining her hands. "They're almost one person. Whatever the mother eats, the fetus does too. If the mother becomes ill, so does the child. Some people go so far as to say that a mother's emotional state is felt by the child too.
"I don't think anyone's ever asked the question of what would happen to the fetus if it were exposed to Dementors. There are no textbooks or articles on the subject, because such a hypothetical would be obscene. As stupid as politicians can be, I can't believe the British government allowed for this to take place. It's a miracle Mrs. Lestrange didn't miscarry."
"But since she did not," Bailey prompted.
"It could be that Sera was protected by her mother's magic or the outer uterine wall."
"You don't seem convinced," he said reading the pensive expression on the woman's piquant face.
"No, my guess is that Mrs. Lestrange would have been in her second trimester, at the time she was arrested and held for trial. The second trimester is known as the fetal period. Toxic exposures at this stage often cause physiological abnormities or minor congenital malformation."
"But Dementors aren't a toxin."
"No, they do however transgress physical matter when they feed."
"A fetus doesn't have any memories either positive or negative," Bailey argued playing devil's advocate.
"That's a philosophical question. Who are we before we're born?" she asked rhetorically, throwing her hands up in uncertainty. "Plato and Pythagoras believed that when we're born we forget the place we came from.
"A fetus is an incredibly vulnerable life form, but if it does have a consciousness, then the Dementor's would be able to sense it and try to feed. They are half-starved in Azkaban."
Engels paused in her thoughts to lean against the tree. The sky was graying as the last rays of the autumnal sun died away. "My working theory is that Sera defended herself in the only way possible. Her mind severed itself. It hid away part of her consciousness."
"Is that what she does now? She hides away when she feels threatened?"
"Possibly. It could be an unconscious defense mechanism. This trial – this upheaval of her routine, it's thrown her completely off. It's encroached on everything that made her feel safe."
"The fight-or-flight instinct," Bailey remarked. "She's done this before hasn't she?" he said almost accusatorily.
"This has been an enlightening conversation, Mr. Bailey," said Engels digging a hole in the ground with the tip of her black pumps, "but if you want anymore information, you'll have to subpoena me. Either that or you could go ask your partner," Engels said with a hard-look in her warm chocolate eyes.
"How were you able to bring her out of it? She was catatonic."
"A good magician never reveals her tricks," Engels said, evading the question.
"Right," Bailey said, conceding defeat, for now. "But these theories of yours, Dr. Engels. Would it be possible for you to –
"To write up a report for you as soon as possible," replied Engels finishing his sentence. "For what it's worth."
"It's worth a lot, doctor," Bailey assured her.
"Yes, the word of a 'quack squib healer' is so very valuable these days," she replied sarcastically.
"You've been reading the Daily Prophet," Bailey said, astutely recognizing the quotation. "You should know that the owners of that rag are good friends with the Malfoys. That paper isn't good enough to line the cage of an owl."
"You read it though," she pointed out.
"That's because it's my business to know. The press, even bad press skews public opinion."
"How very wise," she said favoring the handsome older man with a smile and taking his arm. "Now shut up and take me home."
Present-Day
Monday, October 14th 1996
Superior Wizarding Court of Justice, NYC
Lucius Malfoy came to the stand prepared this time for Bailey's trickery. He was ready to set his wits against the American attorney. Lucius was sore at the portrayal of his family as ignorant snobs by The New York Wizarding Times.
Curiously, he found that amidst the Howlers and hate-mail that had been sent to him and instantly obliterated, there were well-wishers. Apparently, some strains pure-bloodlines had survived the immigration from the Old to New World. These American pure-bloods, lauded the Malfoys for their stand on blood purity. America had lost its way, they lamented. The country needed to return to a time when mudbloods and half-bloods weren't allowed to walk on the same sidewalk as purebloods.
Not all public opinion had been turned against the Malfoys. The Carrows had reinterpreted Narcissa's testimony so that it barely resembled the actual events.
Editorials in The Daily Prophet portrayed the Keatings as a dysfunctional family. The youngest boy, Daniel, was a juvenile delinquent who made a habit of getting into fights at school and tried to runaway from. And who could blame the boy, since his mother, Beverly was an emotionally imbalanced artist unfit to care for an invalid daughter. Rick was characterized as a workaholic, who rumor had it, drank too much and neglected his family, when he wasn't inviting dangerous werewolves and vampires over to his home. However, it had proved nearly impossible and less urgent to dig up dirt on the eldest son, Will, who was a paragon of virtue, almost boringly so – first in his class, mentor to poor inner-city mages. So, he was not mentioned at all.
The Carrows sympathized with poor dear Sera, who had been kidnapped by a circle of renegade Aurors, and sent to live in that rebellious young nation across the sea. She was a pretty, bright, but sick little girl, who merely needed to go home to her true British family. The Malfoys would set her right, rid her of that horrid American accent, and give her proper medical care.
The girl's eccentric foster parents had taken her to a squib physician. This doctor, Elaine Engels had no doubt prescribed the child 'drugs' full of bizarre chemicals, subjected the girl to experimental treatment and worst of all – limited her magical abilities, on purpose, out of squibbish spite or jealousy. Anyone with a heart could see the girl should be with her natural family, especially if that family was the esteemed Malfoys.
It was under this media blitz that Lucius Malfoy took the stand. He appeared regally serene in black robes, holding his silver snake-headed cane like a scepter.
Benjamin Bailey stood up from the plaintiff's table took a sip from his glass of water, and buttoned up his dark gray suit, before proceeding with his cross-examination.
"Mr. Malfoy, do you and your wife have a child?" Bailey began.
"Yes, I have a son named Draco," Lucius said silkily. "He's very eager to meet his little cousin."
"And why isn't your son here?" Bailey asked in his arid, detached professional voice.
"Irrelevant, you Honors!" Maddox called out, nearly knocking the table over with his sizeable girth.
Danny was surprised the corpulent man could move so quickly without inducing a heart attack.
"Your Honors, I am questioning Mr. Malfoy on his parental relationship with his son. It is relevant to how he will act as a pseudo-father figure to Seraphina Keating," Bailey explained.
"Well put, councilor," Judge Weinfelder lauded Mr. Bailey's choice of words, and knocked his gavel for the trial to resume.
Bailey paced over to the front of the witness stand just off to the side of standing directing in front of Lucius Malfoy.
"Where were we… I believe I asked where you're son is at the present time," Bailey said.
"My son is attending the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"Sounds prestigious," Bailey remarked.
"That's because, it is," Lucius drawled pompously, "The Hogwarts School is one of the finest educational institutions in all of Europe – and in my opinion, one of the best schools in the magical world."
"Is Hogwarts a boarding school?" Bailey queried.
"Yes, students study and live in the Hogwarts castle." Lucius answered cautiously. The black-American lawyer was going somewhere with this line of questioning.
"So for the majority of the year, your son is away at school?"
Lucius noted the slight edge in the attorney's voice. "Yes," he replied, guardedly.
"And what is your involvement past or present with the school?"
"Generations of Malfoys have attended the school, since it's founding over a thousand years ago. And I once served on the Board of Governors."
"But you are no longer on the Board?"
"Yes, I resigned my post," Lucius said silkily, his voice absent of any resentment one might expect. "To pursue other interests."
"Could you elaborate on these interests?"
"Well, I administer the family estates and accounts. Invest in promising ventures and make donations to charity."
"Getting back to the subject of your son, Draco," diverted Bailey. "When is he home from school?"
"Three months for the summer hols and on the Sabbats."
"Would it be fair to estimate that you and your wife are in face-to-face contact with your son for a little over one-third of the year?" Bailey asked, stepping almost imperceptibly forward.
"Yes," the pale-blonde answered suspiciously.
"Do you intend to send Seraphina off to a boarding school?"
"No, of course not. She's not fit to go. She'll stay at the manor to be looked after."
"Why do you say she's not fit to go?"
"I think we can all agree that she can't … interact properly with her peers."
"How do you think she will interact with you?"
"I am her uncle, Mr. Bailey, such familial connections liken one person to another," he drawled, turning his cane slightly.
"When you say Sera will be 'looked after' – what does that entail exactly?"
"We will hire the necessary healers to monitor her condition and tutors for her education. Seraphina will also learn about who she is – her origins and family history. These are things the Keatings cannot provide."
"Who are these healers or tutors?" Bailey asked clasping his hands characteristically behind his back.
"We haven't hired them, yet. We would want Seraphina to have a say in who her teachers will be," Lucius answered with a slight smile toward the girl, even though his niece's head was down and cocked at an odd angle. She looked like a doll that had been tipped forward too far.
"How considerate of you," Bailey commented. "So I'm sure you've considered the fact that Seraphina requires almost constant supervision."
"Yes, we have," Lucius said quickly, not wanting to appear hesitant. "Although Seraphina has special needs, we are also aware of her intellectual and magical abilities. In my experience as a father, I feel that a child needs more independence to learn self-sufficiency."
"Interesting that you should use that phrase "self-sufficiency," Bailey said. "Did you remember it from the medical records we sent you?"
"Yes," Lucius answered confidently, "My wife and I have been educating ourselves about the effects of this Asperger's syndrome."
"Your Honors, I would like to read, plaintiff's Exhibit R into evidence. It is the most recent medical report from an examination conducted by Healers Cornelius Mahler and Katerina Shenko of the Cognitive Disorder Institute in Geneva, the only place of its kind in the Wizarding World that is attempting to understand diseases such as Seraphina's."
Judges Weinfelder, Marshall and Winters turned to one another. When they faced forward again, Judge Marshall spoke for them, "We vote unanimously that councilor may proceed as long as the material is relevant."
"I assure you that it is, your Honors," Bailey said as he walked over to his table for the file and began to read:
It the conclusive opinion of the department of pediatrics for cognitive disorders, that long-term care projections are necessary for the patient, Seraphina Keating, now age fourteen, since it is unlikely that the patient will ever achieve full adult autonomy.
Seraphina manifests qualitative impairment in social interactions marked by the non-use of multiple nonverbal behaviors such as eye-to-eye gaze, facial expression, body posture, and gestures to regulate social interaction. She has failed to develop multiple peer relationships appropriate to her developmental level due to her lack of social and emotional reciprocity. Further complications include an impaired comprehension of speech and language. She is prone to misinterpretations of literal or implied meanings making formal public schooling untenable.
Most troubling is Seraphina's inability to control the full intensity of her magical powers. When she experiences strong emotions or trauma, she causes the destruction of property and threatens the safety of others as well as herself. To remedy the situation and with parental consent, it was deemed necessary to bind her magic as a last resort. These restrictions have been gradually loosened and will continue to be so as she matures, but total control seems highly improbable.
Seraphina adheres to specific routines and rituals which only function to provide her with a sense of psychological security and order. She cannot deviate from her schedule of activities without experiencing acute dysphoria, absent of the social skills necessary to adjust to changed situations or circumstances. It is likely that she will never be fully self-sufficient to live apart from her primary caregivers.
As Bailey read the report, the eyes of the court were drawn to the little girl in the second bench behind her parents. Her head hung down causing her black hair to fall in front of her hiding her face from the stares. Loretta placed an arm around the girl to comfort Sera in her distress.
"Propaganda," Lucius muttered from the witness stand under his breath, though it was heard by the entire courtroom due to the Sonorous charm placed on the witness chair.
"Mr. Malfoy," Bailey said whipping his head up to look the man in the eye, "Are you accusing the Keatings of falsifying a medical report that predates the events leading to this trial?"
"No," Lucius retracted. "Merely, that it suspiciously serves their point of view."
"I ask the question again," Bailey emphasized sharply. "Mr. Malfoy, are you and your wife prepared to take care of Seraphina for the duration of her entire life? Or do you intend to send her off to some other fine institution."
"Mr. Bailey, we are not savages. We will not put her on an iceberg to float out to sea. We take care of our own. And we are prepared to care for Seraphina as long as necessary. She is a part of our family, after all."
The court went into recess after the testimony of Lucius Malfoy. Closing arguments would be heard in the late afternoon.
Superior Wizarding Court of Justice
Judge's Chamber
The Honorable Talia Winters removed her red and black judge's robes. The day she had first put on the coveted attire was over two decades ago. Now she couldn't wait to take it off, but doing so didn't remove the weight of responsibility on her shoulders.
This was an international landmark case. It would be studied, critiqued and reverberate throughout the legal world. And at the center of it was the fate of a little girl. A sick little girl, who anyone with any sense would leave with the family that had raised her from infancy. Winters wouldn't leave her cat in the care of the Malfoys, but the law was the law. In the Wizarding world, a contract was inviolable unless either party chose death over fulfilling their end of the bargain.
The judge's neck and shoulders ached with tension.
"Difficult day, Judge Winters?" said a woman's voice.
"Who are you?" Winters whirled around to face a petite brunette with her dark-brown hair twisted in a tight bun.
"Who I am is of no consequence," the strange woman said in a self-assured manner. "But you may call me Charity," she suggested with a cat-like-grin.
"How did you get in here? SECURITY!" Winters shouted as she reached for her wand in the pocket of her robes.
"Looking for this?" the shorter woman taunted the judge. Charity skillfully twirled the wand between her fingers and stopped abruptly. "Sit down, your Honor," she ordered before sitting in the opposite leather armchair.
"What do you want?" Winters demanded.
"I don't want anything from you," she answered, "However, my employer does, which brings us to this." The woman removed a manila envelope from her briefcase and placed it face down on the judge's desk.
Winters opened it breaking the wax seal. She removed the sheaves of papers, which turned out to be photographs. They were photos of herself and her law clerk, Bruce Halligan, her lover; not to be mistaken with her husband. She and Bruce were in the midst of an impassioned kiss against the wall of a back alley behind a Chinese restaurant.
"How did you get these?" Winters asked, clutching the photos so hard that its inhabitants cowered in terror as the frame threatened to collapse on them.
"How, is not the right question, your Honor," Charity retorted with a smirk. "All you need know is that we have them and are prepared to release them to every major news outlet, if you rule against the Keatings."
"If I rule against the Keatings?" Winters repeated. "Are they your employer?"
'Charity' as she called herself sneered at the judge's guess. "No, my employer's tactics are too shall we say, ruthless for the Keatings. My employer subscribes to the philosophy of enlightened self-interest, which means that one only acts for the benefit of one's self."
"You want me to give custody to the Keatings. That's it. That's all that you want?" Winters asked her neck and jaw line visibly tight.
"What else do you wish to concede?" Charity said snidely, "Foolish woman, and I was told you were one of the great legal minds of our age. People with venerable reputations are hardly as they appear. One finds in my line of work that such personages are less virtuous as they are made out too be. But to answer your question, yes, this is all my employer wants. For now," she added with a laugh.
"Blackmailing bitch," Winters cursed.
"Oh, boo-hoo. You've gone and hurt my feelings," Charity retorted and with a wave her wand set the photograph in the judge's hand on fire. "Don't do it again," she intoned carefully.
"Alright," Winters conceded. "I'll do it."
"I hope you're not just saying that for my benefit," Charity said, her lips colored a stark red in contrast with her tan skin. "Any delusions of grandeur – such as sacrificing personal happiness in the name of the law and fairness of the justice system, would be a monumental act of stupidity. My employer is very powerful and pitiless. Do I have your assurances that you will vote in favor the Keatings?"
"Yes," Winters hissed the word.
"Good," Charity replied getting up from her seat. "You can keep the photos. We've got loads of copies. But before I leave, let me offer you some advice woman-to-woman, do not cross my boss. Look I made a rhyme," Charity smiled maliciously at her own joke, "My employer does not take kindly to betrayal. And I would hate to have to visit you again. And believe me when I say that you would not like to have me visit you again."
With those parting words, there came a loud "CRACK!"
And the judge's wand fell from midair to the floor.
Author's Note:
Midnight-Dragon07 - I hope this answered part of your question.
LMTran - Danny's fun to write. Bev's father is Charity's employer, but I bet you figured that out. The verdict and the aftermath is going to be interesting. That will be the next chapter. I promise. Closing arguments and the verdict and the big twist.
dancer8428 - How do you like Charity - is she evil enough? And yes, Sera has Asperger's Syndrome, but it's sort of mixed as you can see from Dr. Engel's theories.
ShyOrangette - Thanks for the motivation!
Thanks for all of your reviews!
It really motivates me to keep writing, so I update sooner. Hint Hint.