Chapter 16:
He was about an hour early for his meeting with Dumbledore, Harry thought as he emerged from the Floo in Professor McGonagall's office the next day.
The office was empty, he realized as he looked around. The Transfiguration Professor was probably busy dealing with the numerous Aurors that were no doubt swarming the place, looking through anything and everything in sight. Walking over to the oaken door leading out of the office, Harry opened it and slipped outside into the corridor.
It had never really hit him that he wouldn't be seeing these hallways again for a year, Harry thought as he walked towards the Headmaster's office. He hadn't expected that it would affect him as much as it was.
But he should have. It was his home after all.
Turning a corner on the way to the Grand Staircase, Harry suddenly came to a halt. McGonagall and a burly Auror were loudly arguing in the middle of the hallway. Neither of them seemed to have noticed him yet.
Harry backtracked to a spot just behind the corner, pulling out and putting on his Invisibility Cloak before leaning over to spy on the conversation. The Auror was tapping his wand on the lock on a nearby door as McGonagall was trying vainly to talk him out of doing it.
"Entering the seventh year Alchemy classroom without the Headmaster's permission or assistance is very dangerous Mr. Murphy." McGonagall argued.
"That's Auror Murphy to you," the Auror interrupted gruffly.
Harry frowned.
A flush crept up the Professor's face before she replied, "Very well then Auror Murphy. There are several dangerous alchemical concoctions in that room, and the Headmaster is the only one sufficiently trained in Alchemy in this school. If he does not supervise you going into that room, then your life might be at ri-"
"Don't teach me how to do my job woman," the burly Auror; Murphy; snapped at her, "If you had done yours right then maybe all those kids wouldn't have died."
Harry's eyes widened as he almost gasped.
The color drained out of McGonagall's face. She gritted her teeth, visibly trying to restrain herself, before she angrily stomped away from the conversation. Harry pushed himself up against the side as she passed him, trying to remain unnoticed as he watched her wipe her eyes on her sleeves before striding off towards her office.
Ping!
Quest Alert
How about you stop moping about your life for a minute and teach that twerp a lesson for messing with our dear Professor? Cunt!
Reward,
1,000 Exp
Failure,
What are you expecting? Death? Here's what's gonna happen. At worst temporary detention by the Auror, because seriously. You're fucking Harry Potter. Do what you need to.
YES/NO?
Harry grinned before accepting the quest and waving away the windows. It had been a while since the game had shown its personality overtly. It was nice to have the familiar sarcastic tone back again.
And while he had no doubt that the esteemed Professor could easily take care of herself, she seemed to be unwilling to act in retribution against Auror Dickhead over there. Due to that, as a loyal student himself, it only made sense to act in her stead.
Besides, what else was he supposed to do with an entire hour of free time?
Harry opened up his inventory and pulled out a dungbomb that Ron had given him for his birthday last year. But he wasn't just going to throw them at the Auror.
Oh no. That was for plebs.
A dungbomb usually consisted of three layers inside it. The first layer was the dried potion, that when touched by fire would immediately turn into the stenchful gas. The second layer was a small bunch of gunpowder, primed to explode and light the stench potion. The third was the fuse, which proceeded through a hole all the way out of the bomb's shell, and needed to be lit by the prankster.
Pulling out a knife, Harry gently cut the dungbomb horizontally in half from the middle, exposing the insides of the popular prank item. Removing all the gunpowder from inside, Harry removed the fuse and sealed it back shut.
What remained was a ball with a single hole in it, full of a potion that'd spit out a mind famboozlingly disgusting smelling gas at the slightest spark.
The next step was to knock the man out, but that was easier said than done. Harry knew Stupefy, but there was no way that a trained Auror wouldn't dodge that or just fling it right back at him.
Instead, he opted to extend a thick tendril of his mana into the body of the Auror who was trying to get through the lock on the Alchemy classroom. Fighting heavily against the man's own magic, he pushed his mana into his blood. Letting the mana settle in and saturate his blood, Harry closed his hand into a fist, slowing down the flow of blood as much as he could with a grown man's magical flow fighting against him.
It was almost stupid how hard it was to even make the man dizzy. The more someone seemed to be trained in their use of magic, the harder it was to control their blood.
Ping!
For making an accurate deduction, take +1 to Int!
The Auror stumbled upon his feet, swaying as the symptoms of low blood pressure started to take hold, dizzily shaking his head. And Harry didn't waste any time in pulling his wand out and sending a Stupefy right at him, catching him off guard.
And down he went.
Harry secured his Invisibility Cloak around him and ran over, dropping to his knees as he pried open the Auror's mouth and positioned the dungbomb at his lips, with the hole facing into his mouth.
With a snap of his fingers, he lit a single spark inside the ball, lighting up the potion. Within seconds, the entire dry potion sublimated into its smelly gaseous form. Since there was no gunpowder to explode the dungbomb's shell away, the gas went the only way it could.
Forcefully out through the hole, into Auror Murphy's mouth, and right into his digestive tract.
Harry kneeled there for a minute, holding the dungbomb in the man's mouth and idly wondering when would be an ideal time to stop.
"FTWEEEEEEEE!" echoed a fart through the empty hallway.
Harry burst out in a fit of hysterical laughter. It was so immature, but he hadn't laughed in so long that he almost couldn't stop himself.
Yup. That would be a decent enough time to stop.
He pulling the dungbomb back and dropped it into his inventory before it spewed any gas onto him, before making sure that the 'Unconscious' status effect would wear off soon with a quick Observe. Then, he pointed his wand at the man.
"Anapneo" he cast, clearing the man's lung airway and making sure he wouldn't choke or something.
Ping!
Quest Success!
How about you stop moping about your life for a minute and teach that twerp a lesson for messing with our dear Professor? Cunt!
Reward,
1,000 Exp
Casting a sticking charm onto the man's butt just for good measure, sticking it to the floor, Harry got up onto his feet and headed up towards the Grand Staircase.
No doubt the entire thing was quite irresponsible, immature, and reckless, but it was also quite fun, and honestly, Harry had been feeling a bit drained of fun lately.
The staircases weren't feeling very kind today, which was why it took a few minutes for him to make his way up to the Project Room.
By the time he got there, he had come down from the momentary high of the prank in anticipation entering this familiar place, and he was having some serious mixed emotions about why.
Pulling out the key the Professor had given him a while back, Harry unlocked the door and stepped in, closing the door behind him before walking in and looking around the place.
The chairs, desks and the transfigured sofas were still there. Dust hadn't had the time to settle on the desks they had arranged around the walls as their work surfaces. The library books were still there and so were the quills and half-filled notebooks, scattered all across the work surfaces.
Nothing had changed, yet everything had changed.
And almost involuntarily, his eyes slid shut, and his lightning-fast Gamer's mind responded to a wish that even he didn't know he had, in vivid detail imagining the future that would have come to pass if the last few months had never happened.
The school would have been normal, and their lives unmoved. They would have grown better as a team, researching and studying magic both on and off school course. Heck, time permitting, they would have worked on the Game project, maybe even made a working prototype that would have probably broken down between ten minutes of it coming together.
But they wouldn't have been discouraged. They would have stared at the burning piece of magical technology for a minute before they would have laughed and joyously gone off to celebrate. Dean and Ron would have smurfed down every bit of dessert they would have smuggled away from the kitchens. Hermione would have watched disapprovingly before he and Terry would have forced her into joining in anyway.
Christmas would have been merry, and the New Year's would have been joyous. They would have crushed the end of the year exams before heading off home, eager to come back for a new third year at the school.
And now, all that was gone.
Harry's eyes were wet when he opened them, the sparkle that they had gained during that impromptu revenge prank completely lost. A couple of flicks of his hand made the Identifier Band fall out of his Inventory and onto his palm.
"Observe"
The Identifier Band
A magical device capable of identifying any magical creature whose existence has been recorded in its Source Book. Just put on the Band and point your index finger at the creature, say 'Identify' and the name of the creature will carve itself on the band.
It was only weeks ago that he and Dean had crafted that with the Professor Vector's help. One nightmare ago.
A knock sounded at the door, and a voice came through, echoing around the classroom.
"Mind if I let myself in Harry?" Professor Vector said.
"Give me a second, Professor," Harry called back, wiping his eyes.
The door opened behind him a second later, and the Professor walked in, her steps sounding loud and clear in his ears.
"Did the Aurors search the place?" Harry asked, looking up at her.
"They did. Yesterday evening, after they found out that Argus was missing. They didn't find anything of concern, and as soon as I mentioned that this was where Harry Potter works on his side projects they were quite glad to put everything back where it was before," the Professor said, keenly looking at his face. She asked, "Are you alright Harry?"
"I am. I'm fine really." Harry said, although he knew well before the ping sounded that his lie had been unsuccessful.
Ping!
Lie Unsuccessful!
Professor Vector frowned, "Suppressing how you feel isn't the right way to go about it, Harry. You just went through some really bad times, and feeling dejected is natural. But you have to talk about it."
Harry took a deep breath, deciding to word it better this time, "Thank you for being concerned Professor, but I do know that. I have a family now. I can talk to them about things like this. And I do talk to them. They've been really helpful."
Ping!
Maybe you should think about why you have such high levels of Lying and Bullshitting while your Lie Detection is so low. Says a lot about you and those around you. Skill leveled up!
Lying, Lv- 13 (1%)
This is your ability to lie to people, the higher the level the better the lie and less chance of discovery!
67% chance of success, less based on how extreme the lie is.
Harry frowned. He knew just fine how much of a lying problem he had. He didn't need the game's help in pointing that out.
"If you say so," the Professor hesitantly said, letting go of the topic before saying, "So why are you at school Harry?"
"I had a meeting with Professor Dumbledore," Harry replied, "And I wanted to talk about the Project to you. I, as well as Hermione and Ron…we were all wondering about what will happen to it."
"You tell me. You are the leader of the project after all." The Professor said, her voice pleasant and calm.
"But isn't Hogwarts being shut down for the year? How can I still-"
"The Project is registered with the Ministry, Harry. Not the school. You have the permit, and so long as I don't cut the cord as your supervisor, you can do whatever you want. I won't be cutting the cord unless you want me to, so it's all up to you. Whatever you decide, I will understand."
Harry looked down at the Band in his hands, "I want to keep it going, even if just for the sake of honoring Dean's memory, but I don't think it would be the same without him."
The Professor pondered for a moment, before saying, "Then it's alright if you want to stop for now Harry. Take a break this year. Drop the Project. You've accomplished so much in a few months, and I have no doubt that you'll have no issues catching up once Hogwarts starts back up again. Give yourself time."
Harry nodded. That seemed like a good idea. And he could still work on it on his off time if he wanted to.
"Then that is how it will be," the Professor said before patting his shoulder, "I have an appointment at the Ministry now. You take as much time as you need."
And with that, she turned around and left the room.
Harry stayed there for a few minutes more, idly thinking about this and that as he arranged all the books and notebooks into separate neat stacks so that Madam Pince could take the library books back when she inevitably came looking for them.
It was while finishing up the final stack that an idea struck Harry, and he quickly tidied up and left, heading towards the seventh floor this time.
The idea, and the Room of Requirement, as it turned out, proved to be entirely useless. The room was fairly good at finding things, and Harry's idea was to go and ask it for the diary.
Much to his frustration, the idea didn't work, which meant that the diary must have been destroyed or something, which in turn didn't bode well for his plan of telling the court about the possession.
'It's alright,' he thought as he told the password to the statue and rode up the revolving staircase leading up to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore would probably manage to work something out. He'd been part of the legal system for decades now and had a mind that probably surpassed his own Gamer enhanced one.
'If anyone could find a way, it would be Dumbledore.' He thought to himself as he knocked on the door.
"Come on in Harry," came the voice of the Headmaster from inside.
Harry pushed the door open and stepped in, almost unconsciously bracing as memories of the tornado of belongings that he'd walked into the last time he'd walked into this office flashed in his mind.
But no such tornado awaited him. Instead, everything was just as it had been before Dumbledore had left the office. The portraits were still there, all awake and looking at him curiously, the spindly contraptions were on the side tables, whirring and puffing smoke, and behind the claw-footed desk was the Headmaster himself, dressed in violently offensive neon green robes.
"You arrived early, didn't you Harry. My apologies for making you wait. Dilys over there," Dumbledore said, pointing to the portrait of the Headmistress that he had seen on his trip to St Mungo's yesterday, "was telling me about a patient that had come in with a burnt hindquarters and how no one quite knew what it was that did it, so I had to go see for myself. Forgive me, but curiosity does strike my fancy once a while."
"Did you find out what caused it? Some spell?" Harry asked, walking over to the table and taking the guest seat.
"Oh nothing like that," Dumbledore replied as he waved his hand, making the tea set that lay on the table fly up and pour a cup for Harry. "Turned out the man had brought a muggle hair curler and had stuck it up his rear thinking it was something else. It was all cured soon, although I do not envy the healer who had to apply the burn salve. The burns looked rather deep-seated."
Harry stared. Every once in a while, usually with Dumbledore around, he was reminded of how strangely absurd the Wizarding World truly was.
Although considering all else that he had seen, he supposed accidentally using hair curlers as a dildo wasn't all that far out there.
His Gamer's Mind, being the delightfully helpful thing that it was, conjured up a nice little mental image for him.
He then promptly decided that it definitely was far out there.
Deciding to casually pretend that the last minute of conversation had been wiped out of existence by a random black hole dancing through space-time, Harry took a sip of his tea and asked the question on his mind.
"What is the plan for tomorrow's trial? Should I tell them about the possession? That I talked to Riddle?"
Dumbledore's face grew serious, "I have thought about it, and I think pursuing a possession-based defense might be the best option we have. However, Miss Turpin's mind being impenetrable might prove to be an issue"
"What about Imperius Curse? I know that the death eaters during the last war got off on that. That defense must've been really good. I've read that Barty Crouch Sr was really strict on Dark Arts at the time. Why can't we use something like that?"
Dumbledore was shaking his head even before Harry finished, "There were fairly complicated factors at play there, not the least of which were bribes and networking. And remember Harry that the people who will be casting the votes already know that the Imperius defense was popularly used by Death Eaters. Those that know that it had been used to keep guilty people out of prison and are bitter about it would vote against us, and those who themselves used it to stay out of prison would also vote against us."
Harry knew where Dumbledore was going, "Combine that with the families that lost their sons and daughters, who we can assume will vote against us no matter what, we will lose no matter how airtight the defense is."
"Exactly. You have to remember Harry that a Wizarding Criminal trial is not just about the law, but also about the people who vote. It is them we have to convince, and it is them we must focus on the most," Dumbledore said.
"So what do you want me to do?"
"Tell them about the possession without mentioning Lord Voldemort. Say that you saw someone in the Chamber, but were afraid to tell people about it because you thought no one would believe you. Be vague. Your age will give you some liberties. Take advantage of them. Is that clear Harry?
"Crystal," Harry answered before asking, "But what about Lisa? What about her being on the stand?"
Dumbledore's face aged a decade within a second, "Miss Turpin…she does not remember much. A lot of her memories involve blacking out for periods of time. But there are also quite a few things that she does remember and feels guilty about because she does not remember anyone forcing her to those things. Almost all of those I am positive Tom Riddle made her do."
Harry's optimism about the trial plummeted.
Dumbledore wasn't finished, "Further worsening the situation are her mental shields, which make her immune to Veritaserum, and her lack of any recollection whatsoever about the Voldemort's diary. Both no doubt courtesy of Mr. Riddle."
"Letting her take the stand would be bad wouldn't it," Harry asked, leaning tiredly back into his chair.
"To put it lightly, yes,"
Harry sighed, before he looked up at the Headmaster said, "Then I suppose I will have to sway all the people I can."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at Harry's statement before he set his untouched cup of tea aside to pull out a small file from his drawer and opened it.
"The Prosecutor the Ministry has appointed for the case is Lord Mulciber," he said as he read the page in the file, "He is a very well respected member of the traditionalist side, and a shrewd politician and attorney. The acting Judge, as always, will remain anonymous until the trial starts. The trial will be held in tomorrow in Courtroom Twelve, beginning at two in the afternoon."
Dumbledore closed the file, took off his glasses and leaned in to look Harry in the eyes.
"You must be careful Harry. You must not interrupt anyone. You must not speak up. You must not appear hostile or biased in any way. And most importantly, you must not give them any reason to use Veritaserum on you."
Harry frowned, "But wouldn't my Occlumency stop it from taking effect or something? Couldn't I just lie to th-"
Dumbledore's voice was quite serious when he interrupted Harry, "There are over a thousand different microexpressions and indicators of Veritaserum taking effect on a person. Those indicators are one of the most well guarded magical secrets, passed on by word of mouth from one Court Administerer to the next. Even I do not know them all. A person who is unaware of those indicators might possibly be duped, but it is impossible to fake the effects of the Truth serum in a Court and not be caught. And the situation is even worse for you."
"Worse for me?"
Dumbledore nodded, "Nicholas tells me that memory spells do not work on you, which prevents us from temporarily rewriting your memories to show that you did sneak past the basilisk. If we had been able to do that, you would have been able to bypass Veritaserum, since you yourself would have believed that to be the truth,"
"But my shields prevent that," Harry whispered in morbid realization. The one protection that he cherished above all was proving to be their undoing.
"They do."
Silence took over the office for a moment, the only sound echoing through being the puffing and whirring of the machines.
"Test me," Harry finally said, breaking the silence, "I'll try to take down my shields. Try to Obliviate me."
"Harry, thi-" Dumbledore began speaking, his expression shocked.
"Don't let me think about this twice Professor," Harry interrupted, "I don't trust myself to not stop you. Just do it. Obliviate the last minute of this conversation from my mind. If we can do this then we can save Lisa's life."
Dumbledore looked him in the eye before he pulled out his wand and pointed it at him. His voice shook as he said his next words, "I have said this before and I will say it again Harry. Never in my years at Hogwarts have I ever been prouder of a student than I am of you. Obliviate."
Harry did his best to exert as much control over Gamer's Mind that he could, commanding his shields to take themselves down as the spell washed over him.
Ping!
Memory spell attack averted!
"Damn it!" Harry cursed in frustration as soon as he heard the ping before he realized who was sitting in front of him, "Sorry Professor."
"No worries Harry, although I presume you already know the result of that little experiment," Dumbledore said, waving away his apologies, "I must say I expected that, but as disappointing as the result may be, you offering to do what you just did…it speaks volumes of your character Harry."
Harry didn't know what to say, so he decided to take a sip of his tea instead. It had lost its heat, leaving behind a cold and bitter concoction.
Dumbledore smiled at him, "I've kept you here for a while. Perenelle must no doubt be wondering when you will be coming home. I would rather not risk her ire if that is fine with you."
"Yeah," said Harry, scratching the back of his head as he looked at the time, "I did tell her that I'd be back within a couple of hours."
"Then off you go Harry. Just hop through from the Floo here this time."
Harry nodded before he got up from his chair and headed over to the fireplace, grabbing the powder and throwing it into the fire. The fire turned green and Harry stepped in. Seconds later he was off, hurtling through the Floo Network in the direction of his home.
After Harry had disappeared in a burst of green flames from the fireplace, Albus Dumbledore pulled his wand out and vanished the Veritaserum laced tea that Harry had been drinking out of his cup.
The experiment that Harry had volunteered for was only one of the two that Dumbledore had been conducting this meeting.
Both had failed.
"It's getting late Harry!" rang Nicholas's voice from downstairs just as Harry finished fluffing up a pillow for Hedwig on his bed.
"Just go Harry. I'll be fine," Hedwig's voice sounded in his head.
Nodding, Harry quickly grabbed his wand and ran out of the room and down the stairs, where Nicholas was waiting for him beside the door. They quickly made their way down the corridor and into the small room that held the floor's Floo connection.
Handing two sickles over to the doorman, Nicholas grabbed the Floo powder and threw it into the fire.
"After you, Harry," he said, waving Harry into the fireplace.
Harry acquiesced, stepping into the fireplace before saying, "Ministry of Magic!"
And he was whooshed away, flitting through an ethereal black space with many momentarily visible green specks of light whizzing by him as he headed towards one green spot of light that grew. Harry braced himself, carefully managing to step out of the fireplace without stumbling.
Flooing was still something he wasn't entirely used to, he thought as he looked up at the splendid hallway in front of him.
The highly polished dark wood floor and walls, the peacock blue ceiling inlaid with gleaming moving golden symbols and many gilded fireplaces looked just as grand as they had the first time he had come to the Ministry. The number of people going in and out of the fireplaces was much less though since it was midday, and other than the few dozen people who were hurriedly walking through towards the atrium, the hallway was fairly empty.
Nicholas emerged in a burst of flame from the fireplace behind him before placing a hand on his shoulder, "Let's go, Harry. We don't want to be late."
Passing the Fountain of Magical Brethren halfway down the hall, they joined the small crowd of people, wading their way through towards the Security desk near the left corner of the Atrium. Occasional snippets of strange and curious conversations reached his ears.
"…just send your toilet over to the DMLE and they'll lick it clean for you…"
"…if your wife gets mad at you for yelling at your kids, just put a coin in your sock every time you yell at them. Soon you'll have a weapon to beat them with…"
"…my goat got my baby stuck in a tree…"
But Nicholas had a firm grip on his shoulder as he guided them hurriedly through to the Security desk, and Harry had no time to investigate any of them.
"Step over here," said the wizard in a bored voice as they reached the desk.
Harry walked closer to him and the wizard held up a long golden rod, thin and flexible as a car aerial, and passed it up and down Harry's front and back before doing the same for Nicholas.
"Wands," grunted the security wizard at them, putting down the golden instrument and holding out his hand. The wizard read the wands on the brass instrument one by one, before handing them back.
"Thank you," said Nicholas firmly, and grasping Harry by the shoulder he steered him away from the desk and back into the stream of wizards and witches walking through the golden gates.
Harry followed him through the gates into the smaller hall beyond, where at least twenty lifts stood behind golden grilles. Harry and Nicholas picked one that looked like it was empty. They hurriedly jogged over to the lift, and before anyone else could get in, Nicholas slid the grills shut and pressed the button labeled Level Nine.
The lift gave a groan before it ascended slowly with a shudder, carrying the two of them.
The hall soon disappeared into the floor, and they were alone in the lift. Nicholas turned to look him in the eyes, "I'm sure Albus stressed it enough in your meeting yesterday, Harry, but remember not to lose your cool in there. Mulciber will be looking for weaknesses, and he will definitely try to provoke you. Don't let him."
"I know Nicholas," Harry said over the rattling noise, "Professor told me all that yesterday."
"I have no doubt," Nicholas said. The flickering light on his face made him look older than Harry had ever seen him look, "But he has a habit of trying to sugarcoat things. I'll be blunt. This trial is being seen as so damaging and polarising that even Fudge refused any part in it. People are out for revenge, and they are not looking to hold back. Just promise me that you will be careful in there."
There was a palpable worry in the man's voice, and it was kind of off-putting to see someone that Harry was used to being cheerful look like that. He nodded, agreeing to that promise.
"Department of Mysteries," the female voice sounded and left it at that.
They were on the only floor that Harry had not been to in his tour with Mr. Bagman all those months back. He quickly cast an Observe on the label above the lift button labeled 9, hoping it would work.
Level 9: The Department of Mysteries
The Department of Mysteries, located on Level Nine, is a section of the Ministry of Magic that carries out confidential research regarding particular enigmas that magic has yet to solve. Most of its operations are carried out in total secrecy from the general wizard populace.
Harry frowned. Why were they here?
The grill rattled open all by itself this time and answered Harry's question, revealing the familiar form of Professor Dumbledore, dressed in a midnight blue set of robes.
"Good to see you here Nicholas," he greeted before turning to him, "Ready Harry?"
"Hold on Albus," Nicholas interrupted, "Are you absolutely sure that they will not allow me to sit with Harry? This is highly unusual for a court to do."
"I am positive. The judge waived the guardian's rights for the trial because both the accused and the primary witness are underage. It was done by popular vote to avoid delaying the trial more. Miss Turpin's mother was quite devastated, but I couldn't do much to stop them." Dumbledore gravely replied.
The statement had all sorts of bad implications, but the one that struck Harry the hardest wasn't the legal stuff.
Her mother. Lisa had a mother. She was a widow who worked at the Ministry.
'I had forgotten that,' Harry thought as his stomach churned with an odd mixture of shame and guilt. He wondered what she must be feeling right now, with her daughter being pushed into a trial that could get her branded as a criminal and her job no doubt in peril.
Deciding to put that into the pile of reasons why it was important to save Lisa, Harry started to pay attention to Dumbledore again. They had started to head down the corridor towards the polished door.
"…you will have to sit in the viewer's gallery I'm afraid, but Mrs. Turpin will be sitting there as well and I am glad that you will be there to give her at least some support through this."
"There is that," Nicholas said with a sigh as they reached a fork in the corridor, "Well. This is where I have to go right and you left. Good luck Harry. And to you too Albus. I will be watching."
With that, Nicholas headed through an opening and down the flight of stairs towards the right, and Dumbledore guided Harry down the left.
They reached the bottom of the steps and walked in silence along yet another corridor, which bore a great resemblance to the one that led to Professor Snape's dungeon at Hogwarts, with rough stone walls and torches in brackets. The doors they passed here were heavy wooden ones with iron bolts and keyholes.
The Professor opened one of the heavy doors and walked right in. Harry eyed the engraving on top of the door.
Courtroom Twelve
There was a bleak and forbidding air about the place. The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. There were no pictures on the walls, no decorations at all. Just the serried rows of benches full of people that Harry knew were Wizengamot members, rising in levels all around the room, all positioned so that they had a clear view of the center, which was presumably where the arguments took place.
Ahead, in the highest bench of all, was a shadowy figure. The Judge. The window above his head told Harry his name, which was Rudolph Barnes. Harry had no idea who that was, which was why he cast the Observe.
Rudolph Barnes
(Relationship Meter: 0%)
Lv-50
HP-17000/17000
MP-8000/8000
Race-Wizard
Str-21
Vit-32
Dex-20
Int-39
Wis-29
Luc-16
Rudolph Barnes is a wizard and a member of Wizengamot of some influence. He has practiced traditionalist leaning politics, but is seen as a fair minded family man on both sides due to his past service in DMLE. He is a decent dueler and is fluent in Spanish. He has two daughters and a wife whom he dearly loves.
He has never before been appointed to the position of acting Judge, and is quite nervous, but is trying not to show it.
He has no strong opinion about Harry.
Harry waved away the Observe. There wasn't anything too notable here but did help dissuade a lot of his fears. The low voices that had been echoing around the courtroom stopped as the heavy door swung close behind Harry and Dumbledore.
A cold male voice, Judge Barnes's voice, rang across the courtroom, "Take your seat in the witness gallery Mr. Potter."
Harry looked around, before quickly identifying the slightly raised group of benches beside the Judge's seat to be the witness section. He obligingly walked over and took his seat, which he realized was quite lower than the Judge's.
An elderly man who looked a few decades younger than Dumbledore walked over to stand just off the center of the room. Dumbledore walked over to stand beside him.
"Lord Mulciber," the judge asked, "Will the accused not be presented to the court?"
"The Prosecution has waived the presentation of the accused until the time of her testimony arrives out of respect for the families of the deceased amongst us" the elderly man, Mulciber, said with a genial smile.
"Very well then. Is the defense ready to begin?"
"We are your Honour."
"As is the Prosecution."
"Very well then. Court scribe take note. This trial has begun," The judge said out loud to the silent room, before reading the charges from a file on his desk.
"The accused Lisa Turpin stands charged with the following: Murder of 8 minors and one Silvanus Kettleburn on January 9th 1993; Purchase of illegal potion ingredients; Purposeful endangerment; and Terrorism. Prosecutor Mulciber and Defence Attorney Dumbledore arguing before the presiding judge Rudolph Barnes, along with court scribe Bigglesworth McToot. How does the defendant plead?"
"Not guilty on all charges."
A wave of murmurs spread across the room. Harry could make out quite a few faces in the darkness, easily picking out Amelia Bones and Malfoy along with quite a few other people he had met at the New Year's parties, all keenly watching Dumbledore.
The judge took a note, "Very well then. The Prosecution shall be opening with a statement, followed by Defence."
Dumbledore walked off to stand by the side, giving the floor to Mulciber, who cleared his throat before beginning.
"Our world has just witnessed one of the most devastating events in the past decade. A Basilisk, armed with its deadly gaze, was veiled in the shroud of a powerful secrecy charm and cast loose upon Hogwarts, killing nine people and petrifying four others. In the last few days, our minds have been full of questions. Who did it? Who is the Heir of Slytherin? Who was the one that set the Basilisk free? Who took and killed Dean Thomas? Who took Lisa Turpin into the Chamber? Well, your Honor the answer has been hiding behind a mask of innocence all this time. It is none other than Lisa Turpin herself. She was not taken down the chamber. She walked in there willingly. SHE is the heir! And today, with the evidence we have found against her and our expert witnesses, we will put her to justice."
Mulciber bowed before he headed to the side and yielded the floor to Dumbledore.
"In light of recent events," he started, "it is more than understandable that our people are feeling anger. They want the culprit punished, and they want it fast which is also understandable. However, what is not understandable is the Prosecution's attempts at directing that anger at Miss Turpin. No doubt there has been a lot of pressure on the Ministry to find and convict the culprit, but to desperately pin the blame on someone innocent is not something that we stand for."
The mutterings started up again, this time accompanied with quite a few nodding heads.
Dumbledore continued, "And that desperation shows in his words. Lord Mulciber just mentioned a powerful secrecy charm that managed to shroud the Basilisk from all eyes, including my own. Does he mean to say that a 12-year-old cast that charm? The flaws in his arguments are already showing. Do not let this fool you."
It was working. A considerable amount of the whispers that reached Harry's ears were positive. Dumbledore had made a solid point about her age, and that had resonated well.
"Very well then," the Judge's cool voice sounded, "Prosecution. Who is your first witness?"
"I would like to ask for Auror Dawlish to take the stand," Mulciber said as he eyed Dumbledore warily.
The judge agreed, and Auror Dawlish rose from his seat and took the witness stand.
"We know that Miss Turpin was either taken or went into the Chamber and Mr. Dean Thomas followed her in. Sometime later, Harry Potter found the way into the Chamber with the help of his phoenix companion, found Mr. Thomas dead and Miss Turpin unconscious, and got them out of there," Mulciber stated before asking, "What happened in that time?"
Dawlish's voice was monotonous and rehearsed when he answered the question, "We've worked out that Miss Turpin was immersed in a cauldron that contained a Potion that has yet to be identified. That we know by the burns all over her body when she was found. And Dean Thomas pushed the cauldron over and made her spill out, disrupting the brewing process and causing some sort of backlash that might have been the reason behind the death of Dean Thomas and the destruction that was found in the Chamber itself."
"Is there any indication whatsoever of anyone else ever being in there?"
"No. None at all."
"Tell us about this gramophone device you found. The one that was said to have been continuously playing harsh hissing sounds when it was found." The Prosecutor asked, his tone sounding saccharinely pleasant with a noticeable undertone of eagerness.
"That was a gramophone enchanted to switch between two sounds. One was a song, and the other was a Parseltongue recording in Miss Turpin's voice saying something along the veins of 'kill them all'," Dawlish replied in that same rehearsed tone.
"A parseltongue recording saying that? How did you reach to that conclusion?"
"We used an experiment with a few snakes that one of our Junior Aurors suggested we try."
"An experiment, your Honour," Mulciber said as he turned around with a flap of his robes, sounding like a stage actor about to say his best line, "that we have set up to show the court right now. May I?"
"Go ahead."
Mulciber gave a wave of his wand and the door that Harry had entered from opened. A wizard levitated a table into the room, which he placed in the center, in clear view of everyone.
On the table, much to Harry's shock was the same gramophone that Harry had seen in the Chamber, and a large transparent glass cage containing what appeared to be dozens upon dozens of snakes, writhing around simultaneously in an entangled mass in the box.
Mulciber turned the gramophone on with a flick of his wand, and a scathing harsh hissing sound filled the Courtroom, echoing again and again from the giant walls. A wave of discomfiture traveled through the room. Someone in the back row squeaked with horror.
A window popped up in the corner of his vision.
Parseltongue Skill Active!
And the hissing slowly softened and flowed together into comprehensible words.
"Kill them all. Kill them all. Kill them all…"
Harry knew what was going to happen before it happened. Blood spurted against the walls of the glass cage as the snakes in the glass cage stabbed their fangs into each other, obeying the single command that was being given to them in Parseltongue as they tore each other apart into pieces.
Multiple screams rang out in the room, as some averted their eyes from the cage and others watched with horrified fascination.
"ORDER!" Judge Barnes loudly ordered over the screams as he slammed his gavel down, "That is enough! Your point has been made."
The sound stopped, and the wizard promptly levitated the table back out of the courtroom. Mulciber stepped forth with a victorious expression on his face.
"It is fairly clear what the recording said, which means we now know the reason why the Basilisk attacked the Great Hall that day. An instruction, in Lisa Turpin's voice, telling it to go kill them. The connection is obvious. She was the one who had the Basilisk kill everyone. SHE is the culprit we are looking for."
And with that, Mulciber undid every single bit of work that Dumbledore had done. Harry had no doubt that every single person in the room would have voted Guilty if they had been asked right this moment. He had no idea how anyone could salvage this situation.
But Dumbledore's stride was purposeful as he headed over to the witness stand to ask his own question.
"Are there any details you have on this potion that you are aware of?" he asked, and silence reigned. No one, not even Harry had expected this question.
Dawlish frowned, before answering, "I'd say it was fairly complex, considering it probably took months to brew in there."
Dumbledore did not hesitate, "Would you say that it could be brewed by a twelve-year-old alone?"
"Er…no," Dawlish replied, floundering a bit, "Pretty sure it couldn't. Our potions master said so himself."
Dumbledore turned to look up at the people watching uncertainly, as he spoke, "Esteemed members of the Wizengamot, this is proof that someone else was involved who more knowledgeable in potions. The one who manipulated Miss Turpin into using her apparent Parseltongue ability to record this message. The one who cast the enchantments from her wand. The one who guided her through making such a powerful potion. And that is the real culprit here."
Mulciber, who had probably realized that Dumbledore was starting to sway people, suddenly spoke up, "The Prosecution would like to call witness Harry Potter to the stand!"
The Judge agreed, and Harry, hoping that his acting was up to par, made his over to the witness stand, where Mulciber asked, "Mr. Potter? That night, was there anyone else you saw in there?"
Harry knew that now was the time to shine his skills, "Yes. I did."
Mulciber looked like lightning had struck him where he stood, "What?! Your official statement very clearly states that you saw no one else in there."
Making sure his voice was shaking a bit, he looked down, and said, "I did. I saw a man there, but before I could even see anything about him, he disappeared. I knew that people couldn't apparate inside Hogwarts, so I was afraid that if I told people they'd think I was a liar."
"That is a lie!" The elderly Lord snapped at him before he whirled around to look at the judge, "Your Honour, the witness is being uncooperative and is muddling facts. I demand a vote for Veritaserum!"
"I'm not lyin-" Harry started to refute, but was interrupted by Mulciber.
"Do stay quiet unless you are spoken to Mr. Potter," he snapped, "Maybe if you hadn't spent so much time moping over your friend's body in the chamber, then perhaps countless others would have been saved."
Harry's vision flashed red, and he would have probably done something really bad if the loud babblings of the Wizengamot members around him disapproving of Mulciber's words hadn't driven into him that he was being watched.
Instead, he settled for gritting his teeth and glaring at the man.
"That was out of line Lord Mulciber!" the Judge firmly chastised, "Mr. Potter not only had reasonable cause for what he did, but he also felt it right to confess in the middle of the trial. Your motion is denied! Any further mistreatment of witnesses will result in you being removed from your role as Prosecutor."
Mulciber glared at Harry, before turning to the judge and gritting out, "No more questions."
Dumbledore called from where he was standing, "No more questions from Defence as well." Harry could tell that he had a small smile on his face.
And so Harry went back, a small victory under his belt.
"The Prosecution would now like to call the accused to the stand." Mulciber finally said when Harry was back in his own seat.
"Objection!" was Dumbledore's immediate response, "Miss Turpin is nowhere near good mental health and the time she was forced to spend in detention here in the Ministry further exacerbated her condition. Letting her take the stand is by no means fair."
Mulciber's voice was snide and condescending as he refuted Dumbledore, "She is conscious and can answer questions. I don't think we need anything more than that."
The judge considered them both for a second before, much to Harry's dismay, he said, "I will allow it."
And with that, the preparations for bringing the accused girl began. A small portion of the floor in the center of the room vanished, and a foreboding looking chair with chains hanging off of the limbs rose up. An Auror escorted Lisa into the room, and Harry watched concerned as he took in her pasty skin, her sunken cheeks and her stumbling walk.
He worriedly cast his Healing skill at her, wondering if he could help with whatever was wrong with her.
Ping!
You are attempting to heal somebody with several ailments! Please chose one to heal:
Insomnia
Vitamin K deficiency
Fractured Mind
Magical Trauma
Harry frowned as he selected Fractured Mind.
WARNING: Status effect is MENTAL in nature and is very deep rooted. Removal has 80% risk of rendering the subject psychotic, 10% chance of rendering subject brain dead and 10% chance of permanent neural damage. Chances of recovery, 0%.
Proceed?
YES/NO
Harry almost cursed, before he pressed NO and selected the Magical Trauma.
WARNING: Patient has fractured dream-like memories about times in which she used the magic to do terrible things. These memories are causing her to consciously be repulsed by her own magic. Thus, the magic turns inward, harming her. Any heal would only be temporary unless she learns to trust her magic again.
Proceed for 6 month heal?
YES/NO
This one Harry pressed yes on. Six months was a long enough period of time, and not having her own magic harming her was always a good thing. He also pressed heal on her Insomnia and Vitamin K deficiency and gladly watched as some of her color returned to her face as she took her seat on the chair. She still looked completely unresponsive and in shock, but at least her body was healing.
But Harry's good mood wasn't to last too long.
Mulciber, who had been watching as Lisa was being escorted in, had another blow to deliver, "Your Honor. I propose a motion for a vote on Veritaserum. Reasonable doubt has more than been established, and we wouldn't want her mental state affecting her truthfulness would we?"
And whether it was because she wasn't Harry or for some other reason, the Judge did not hesitate this time, "Very well then. We will put it to a vote."
Harry's heart felt swollen against his ribcage. If they gave Lisa Veritaserum and it didn't work, people would no doubt start distrusting her, just like Dumbledore had distrusted him when he had learned about his shields. That would no doubt be damaging.
"Those in favor of using Veritaserum,"
A clear majority voted yes, and Harry's stomach plummeted.
"Call for the Court Administerer and the Court Legilimencer both," the judge said, sending an aide running through a side door to call for the two people that Harry definitely did not want Lisa to encounter today.
It was another full minute before the aide returned with two hooded figures, one of whom stood by the sidelines and the other moved closer to Lisa. There was a tiny glass vial of truth potion in his hand.
He pried open her mouth and dropped three drops of it into her mouth, before kneeling down and starting to continuously peer at her face.
Seconds turned into minutes as the whispers ringing across the hall grew, and eventually, even the judge lost his patience.
"What is going on?" he asked, irritated.
"It is not working," was the simple monotone reply as the man stood up, "Her Occlumency is too strong."
And the distrustful whispers started growing rapidly along with Harry's sense of unrest. It was just like Dumbledore said. You couldn't fake being under Veritaserum under court. And Lisa wasn't even trying.
"Order! Order!" the judge said, smacking his gavel to silence the room, "Court Legilimencer, can you confirm this?"
The other hooded man walked over to the middle of the room before he too dropped down onto a knee before Lisa. He looked her in the eye for a second, presumably trying Legilimency to enter her mind. Harry knew before he did that he would be unsuccessful.
"I can confirm," the Court Legilimencer said flatly a second later, "She has some of the strongest shields I have ever encountered."
Angry and suspicious mutters spread across the entire Wizengamot.
Harry was starting to worry, but one look at Dumbledore fixed that. The man had a plan, and it became even more obvious when he started to speak.
"It is clear that this effect on her mind is due to the trauma of the possession. She has blank memories, has shown multiple instances of knowing more than anyone her age does and has mental trauma. The fact that it was a possession is even bolstered by Mr. Potter's testimony of a disappearing man-"
Dumbledore was winning people over, and Mulciber knew it, which was why he loudly interrupted him, "Possessed was she? She was possessed for what was the better part of the year and absolutely no one noticed? She did not show any changes in behavior? Should we be prosecuting the venerable Headmaster and Miss Turpin's mother for criminal negligence then? "
He took a breath and barrelled on," That girl is a Parseltongue who is using Occlumency stronger than most of us in the room can. Her finding a potions recipe feels unrealistic to you? And what trauma are you talking about? In all my years at the ministry, I have never heard of anyone learning Occlumency from a spirit that possessed them. You keep piling on theory after theory connecting dots there aren't even there, yet the only evidence you have is the word of a child that is no doubt traumatized by the events of the Chamber and thus cannot be trusted to be fully accurate. This has to be utter nonsense coming from an incompetent teacher who has clearly gone senile."
The whole hall erupted in a massive din, with the families that supported Dumbledore shouting obscenities at Mulciber, and the families allied with Mulciber shouting back to defend him. Sounds of slamming desks with hands and hoarse screams echoed in Harry's ears as he admired Mulciber's tactic with a sick feeling.
The man had, in the guise of losing his temper, singlehandedly drowned out anything that Dumbledore had to say.
BOOM!
The sudden sound of the explosion almost ripped Harry's eardrum apart. The whole hall suddenly fell silent.
Dumbledore lowered his wand, before pointedly looking at the judge.
"Ah. Yes," the Judge said, regaining his bearings before he instructed, "It is clear that spirits are running high now. We will be dispersing for today and will be reconvening tomorrow for further on this case. Court dispersed!"
And with that final gavel, it ended.
The trial wrapped up in the next few minutes, and a few minutes after that, Harry, Nicholas, and Dumbledore were sitting in Dumbledore's office. Harry was silently sitting as the two adults discussed how the trial had gone and what to do next.
"You miscalculated Albus," Nicholas gravely said.
"I know," Dumbledore replied, "Something was wrong there. The motion for Veritaserum should not have been nearly as unanimous. The votes are being influenced, and the prosecutor is no doubt being coached to take Miss Turpin down as brutally as possible. Someone is meddling to make sure that Lisa Turpin does not survive this."
Nicholas hummed in agreement, "Either way, our defense is frail. Right now, the only things we have going for us is the sheer unbelievability of a 12-year-old doing all that magic and Harry's testimony. Your possession argument was holding well before Mulciber interrupted you, but it will not be enough."
"I know," Dumbledore said with a tired sigh, "This entire generation has been coached to fear Parseltongue after Lord Voldemort, and that fear hadn't gotten the time to settle in today's court. It will have tomorrow, and people will be much less sympathetic towards Miss Turpin. We need to bolster our possession defense."
"Professor…" said Harry, who had been quiet this entire time, lost in his thoughts, "Please don't take this the wrong way. It's just a thought that I just had."
He had been using Gamer's Mind to rifle through possible defenses, and an idea formed in his head. It sat uneasy with him, but he had to share it.
"What is it?" Nicholas asked with a frown.
Harry's own voice sounded unbelieving to his ears as he spoke, "Those people in there, those grieving families and angry people, they're looking for someone to blame. Right now, that someone is Lisa. But what if they found someone else to blame. Someone who was twisted and resentful due to not having any magic. Someone who had been confiscating and collecting dark artifacts from students for decades. Someone who would appear to be willing to use those dark artefacts to do harm to a school that he had always been resentful towards. Someone who has been suspiciously missing for the last week."
And contrary to the instantly disgusted rejection of the idea that he had expected from both Nicholas and Dumbledore, their faces morphed into troubled frowns.
They were considering it.
It was a particularly gloomy night. The soft whooshing sounds of dozens of dementors gliding along the dark obsidian floors of Azkaban prison echoed across the cramped hallways, with the only other sound being that of the nightguard repeatedly clanging his baton against the bars of the doors as he checked on each of the prisoners.
A sickly thin dog huddled upon itself in the corner of one of the cells, shivering as it tried not to let the January cold seep into its heart and still it forever. The terrible memories were still there in his mind for him, the nightmares still persistent, but they were dampened. Blurred by the simple chemistry and thought processes of the animal mind.
He felt a spike of joy and gratitude towards his friends and his old Transfiguration teacher for teaching him so well that he was capable enough as a student to make this transformation without any professional help.
The chill near the room grew, and the dog hurriedly huddled into itself. The dementor must have sensed the joy, and was here trying to find its next snack. Its next morsel of food. That momentary spike of joy slowly drained away into a vast vat of nothingness, leaving behind naught but sorrow and misery.
Such was Azkaban. A place reserved for those the wizarding world felt undeserving of joy and happiness. Where prisoners couldn't even be granted the mercy of death unless they decided to slowly starve themselves away, or just managed to break out a splinter of their own bone and stabbed themselves through the heart with it. Where their bodies would lie undiscovered for weeks until the next nightguard came along to inspect the prisoners.
Suddenly, the cold started to slowly fade away, and the clanging of the nightguard's bell drew ever nearer. The dog, knowing that staying in that form would risk exposing the life-saving secret he had, shifted back to his human form, pulling his rags closer around himself to shield from the cold.
A pair of steps rang through the corridor.
CLANG! rang the iron baton against the bars of the cell next to his own. The nightguard's voice echoed down the corridor, "Wake up! Wake up you cunt! Good morning Bellatrix. Say hello to the morning sun you little bitch!"
More steps.
CLANG!
"Look here Black! Show me that pretty little face. Gotta make sure you're all alive here."
Black…that was his name. Sirius Black. He turned around to stare out the iron grates. The nightguard stood there in black robes with a grin on his face, his jackal Patronus shining a warm light around him. It was a momentary relief, tainted by the fact that it would soon be gone with its owner.
But moments passed, and the guard did not leave.
"Remember the lad you tried to get killed, Black? The one that blew your master up?", the nightguard asked with a cruel smile on his face.
'Harry,' his mind reminded him, finally functional in the shade of the nightguard's Patronus. He shook his head. He did not kill him. He did not try to kill him. He never even could have. He was his godson…his life. He loved him. More than anything.
The nightguard continued, taking the shaking of his head as a sign of acknowledgment, "Well lookie here. That lad not only survived his magic-hating family and his Defense teacher trying to off him last year but also a giant snake roaming around Hogwarts killing people. Pretty sure he helped save a kid or two too."
The guard pulled out a newspaper from his pocket before throwing it at him as hard as he could. The newspaper smacked him in the face before falling into his lap, leaving a stinging red mark behind.
"Read it, you bastard. Know, that you failed. Your master is dead. The kid you tried to kill has a new family to care for him now and is surviving anything the world is throwing at him. He survived an entire fucking massacre. Your entire damn betrayal was for nothing. Fucking let that sink in. I'll be back a few hours later to take my paper back."
And with that, the Patronus and its owner passed on, clanging on the next cells after his own, carrying with him the warmth that had momentarily graced him.
But oddly enough, the clarity of mind that the Patronus had momentarily gifted him with did not pass. The bruised face of his godson on the front page captured his entire attention, and the world around him faded away as he immersed himself into the words that rose up at him from the newspaper.
…8 students and 1 teacher had fallen prey to the terrible gaze of the Basilisk…
…He found the entrance to Chamber of Secrets and went in…
…I didn't want to risk anyone else's life…
…Massacre at Hogwarts…
He had failed. Failed to protect his godson from all that would harm him. Failed to save him from the nightmares of the world around him. Failed to give him a shoulder to lean on as he watched his friend die…
Failed…
Not anymore.
There were certain emotions that a Dementor could not suck away. Disgust. Self Loathing. Hate. Yet those were all powerful emotions, and it was their power that had given Sirius Black something that he had not had in over eleven years.
Purpose.
With a mere thought, his magic rose up like a coiled beast springing up into action, infiltrating every inch of his body as he commanded his Animagus transformation again. His bones cracked and shifted, his snout elongated, his backbone rearranged, and the rags that were his clothes slowly disappeared as long matted coat of black fur appeared all over his body.
Mere seconds later, where there was once a man, now once again stood the grim.
Later that night, when the nightguard returned from his round around the prison to take his newspaper before leaving for home, the cell was empty.
What do you think about Harry's idea of pushing blame onto Argus Filch? It has bad moral implications for Harry as he's pushing one innocent down the pit to help another. But on the other hand, that innocent is already under Voldemort's control. Any thoughts about the portrayal of the trial? And did you like the Sirius scene?