I'd like to thank brianna-xox and fredfred for betaing. They improved the story a lot.
Chapter 44: Trials
In a noticeable difference to other civil wars, such as the third succession war in the Kingdom of Magical Florida, public order did not break down during the Second Blood War. While the combatants fought without regard for law and order, the common wizard or witch did obey the law. With the exception of the riot in Diagon Alley, there were no widespread incidents of looting or robberies. Even stretched past their breaking point, the Aurors managed to enforce the law.
This changed after the Dark Lord's death, when the muggleborns who had been hiding in muggle Britain started to return. They generally did not rely on the authorities to retake possession of whatever shops and homes they had left months ago, but preferred to simply drive away whoever had taken over the locations with threats and even violence.
- Excerpt from 'The Second Blood War' by Hyacinth Selwyn
London, Ministry of Magic, February 10th, 1997
Amelia Bones folded the Daily Prophet and dropped it on her desk. At least the press was acting in a responsible manner and following ministerial directions, she thought. And in hindsight, it had been a good thing that Skeeter had refused to help them - the author of the article covering Dumbledore's funeral had been far more subtle than she would have been, and had simply mentioned how close Granger was to the Boy-Who-Lived, together with pointing out just how young Harry was, still at Hogwarts even. That would hopefully be subtle enough to keep the Resistance from recognising their strategy.
If only everyone else would care more for Britain than themselves! But not even Hogwarts' staff saw just how much Britain needed to be united right now. Although that was no surprise, given that Dumbledore had handpicked all of the teachers and other staff members.
Dumbledore. Even after his death, the man's machinations continued. Potter was his creature, down to sharing the man's ideals - no wonder, since the boy had been raised by muggles. And yet, without Dumbledore, Britain would have fallen to the Dark Lord - or Grindelwald. He truly had been the greatest wizard in Britain. If only he hadn't been so radical!
She sighed through clenched teeth. At the start of this mess, right after the return of the Dark Lord, Dumbledore and she had been working quite well together, pushing for increased recruiting of Aurors and Hit-Wizards and trying to convince Cornelius to move against the Dark Lord before he could amass more power and influence. They had made progress as well, especially after the Dark Lord's attack on the Ministry.
But then, Dumbledore's reaction to the massacre at Malfoy Manor had shown the key differences between Amelia and the Chief Warlock. He was a politician, and for him, the end - the defeat of the Dark Lord - justified the means. In this case, mass murder. He didn't care about the law at all, something Amelia couldn't bear. If you started breaking the law in the name of expediency, you eroded the very foundation of civilisation. It would lead to 'might makes right' - exactly what Grindelwald and the Dark Lord had stood for. She remembered how Dumbledore had openly threatened Britain, later, in order to force them to accede to his demands, and ground her teeth. No, she didn't mourn Dumbledore's passing. For all his great power, he had been a threat to her country.
If only… Amelia shook her head. She couldn't afford to dwell on fantasies. She had a country to rebuild. And she'd do her duty - even if half the Ministry seemed to be conspiring against her. She checked her watch. Especially the wizard she was about to meet, Arthur Weasley.
"Have a seat, Arthur."
"Thank you, Amelia." The wizard sat down with that easy, almost shy smile he usually wore.
Amelia wouldn't be fooled, though - Arthur had shown his true colours in the war, fighting for Dumbledore. He was far smarter and more cunning than he acted. Fortunately, as the Head of the Office of Anti-Curse Measures and Research, he was also far more vulnerable than he might have thought.
"How goes the search for a cure for the Withering Curse?" she asked. "The families of those afflicted are hounding me about this - with the Dark Lord dead, they expect the curse to be lifted."
Arthur sighed. "Unfortunately, the Dark Lord's death did not end his curses."
Amelia interrupted him. "Dark Curses do not vanish because their caster dies. I have a number of scarred Aurors who can attest to that."
Arthur coughed. "Yes. That's because dark curses are tied into the very soul of those afflicted, sustaining themselves with the victims' magic. Although the death of the caster usually lessens their power."
"I did pass my Defence N.E.W.T., Arthur." She was growing annoyed.
"I'm sorry!" He smiled in his usual, seemingly self-effacing, way, which annoyed her even more. "Many of the people assigned to my department didn't. Pass their Defence Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T., I mean. So I had to explain the theory so often, it became a habit."
Of course Arthur's department wouldn't get anyone even remotely capable in Defence Against the Dark Arts! Those were desperately needed in the Auror and Hit-Wizards Corps! "I distinctly recall that you received several Curse-Breakers." She wouldn't let him blame his own failures on her.
"I did. Although they were not among the most experienced," he said.
"We don't have that many experienced Curse-Breakers left." Nor many other experienced wizards and witches.
"I know." He kept smiling. "Hopefully, this will change with the muggleborns returning. A number of skilled Curse-Breakers were let go or left because of the Muggleborn Laws."
Hiring muggleborns? The very people who had not only defied the Ministry's authority and cheered the mass-murderers of the Resistance, but were now taking the properties they had left or sold back at wand-point? Amelia managed to hide her first reaction to that proposal. "That presumes that they want to return to the employ of the Ministry," she said, carefully controlling her voice.
"I think that once they realise that most of those who forced them out are gone, they will at least consider it," Arthur said. "The current Ministry should prove to be a far more welcoming place for muggleborns." With a short chuckle, he added: "It's not as if there are many other skilled wizards and witches left to hire."
That was true, unfortunately. There were capable people left, but most of those already had well-paying positions in private businesses. Like the Quidditch League. And patriotism wouldn't make many, if any, of them quit. But to hire muggleborns en masse… it was a transparent ploy of Arthur and Black to subvert the Ministry. "We shall see," she said.
"Well, there's not much I can do about the Withering Curse until I have experienced people working on it. The Department of Mysteries is working on the issue as well, but they have refused to coordinate our efforts, citing a need for secrecy," Arthur said. He snorted. "Unless they're dabbling in the houngan arts themselves, I don't really see any secrets being endangered, but you know how the Unspeakables are." He sighed and shrugged.
Amelia knew that better than anyone else outside the Department of Mysteries. If she had had their cooperation during the war… She forced herself to focus on her current situation. "You're not the only one in this situation. All departments are understaffed and bereft of experienced employees. And yet everyone is doing what they can to do their duty." Everyone else, at least, she thought, but did not say out loud.
"We're doing what we can, but until Hogwarts starts offering courses in dark curses and necromancy, recent graduates won't be able to do much about either." Arthur didn't lose his smile, but his eyes seemed to glint when he leaned forward. "We're talking about a curse cast by the Dark Lord himself. Remember the curse he placed on the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor? Not even Dumbledore could break that one."
Amelia hadn't been aware that such a curse had ever been proven to exist, but this was not the time to debate that. "As you said yourself: With the Dark Lord's death, the curse was weakened. You have the best employees we can spare, so I expect results." It was technically true, even. But with the current situation, they needed every wand for more urgent tasks. There were the Dementors to deal with too - another task for the Unspeakables. And if public order or the Ministry itself fell, then the fate of the Withering Curse's victims would be sealed as well. "Is there anything else?"
Arthur shook his head and rose. Just before he reached the door, he turned around, though. "If fresh Hogwarts graduates and inexperienced Curse-Breakers were a match even for a weakened Dark Lord's curse, then the Muggleborn Resistance and the Order of the Phoenix wouldn't have had to save the Ministry."
Amelia managed to keep from snarling until the door had closed behind him.
London, East End, February 10th, 1997
At breakfast, Hermione Granger put her cup of tea down next to the plate with her croissants and pressed her lips together to avoid muttering the sort of curses under her breath for which she used to chide others. The Daily Prophet's coverage of Dumbledore's funeral was, on the face of it, acceptable, but the details…
...The Boy-Who-Lived spoke touching words about his teacher, who had left him and his entire generation of students far too soon, in the middle of their education. The young student's brief speech provided a moving contrast to the words from all the dignitaries and friends of the late Chief Warlock...
...Hermione Granger was seated between Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. The muggleborn witch had been close to the two younger boys for their entire time at Hogwarts, and so it is only logical that more developed from their friendship. Though given what the Boy-Who-Lived went through, he will hopefully receive support from experienced staff at Hogwarts. They'll have enough time, at least, since he has not yet finished his sixth year...
...Sirius Black seemed to have fully recovered from his ordeal during the war. More than one Healer had been worried about his mental state as he had spent more than a decade in Azkaban...
The Ministry was obviously trying to be subtle, coating their poison in sweet, caring drivel instead of the sharp attacks Skeeter was so fond of. But if you knew what to look for, it was plain as day.
Hermione took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment, then blew at a lock of hair that had fallen on to her face. She needed a haircut too, she thought with a snort, then brushed the lock back.
She had expected such an attack, even predicted it, but still… The question was: How should they respond? She had blackmailed Skeeter, which had put an end to the slander from that witch, but to try and blackmail the Daily Prophet… she didn't exactly have much leverage, and even if she had, such an attempt might backfire. The Ministry might very well decide to get directly involved, and use the opportunity to take the newspaper over. Threatening the newspaper's office and owners ran the same risk. Bones might even be expecting that, and be ready to denounce them as criminals.
But they had to react to that attack, before the British public saw Harry as a naive boy and her as some manipulative slag. She bit her lower lip. The Quibbler wouldn't work well - it was a magazine, not a daily newspaper. And she doubted that the Lovegoods wanted to turn it into a militant newspaper.
Lacking television, that left the wireless. It was even better for propaganda, provided you could reach the majority of the population, and had a good orator. Which, she thought with a sigh, Harry wasn't. Yet. And listening to speeches could get boring. They needed something new, something to catch the people's attention. Apart from muggle music. Maybe a discussion show, or something… She'd have to take a closer look at what the BBC was broadcasting.
She sighed again. There was something more urgent to deal with. And she wasn't looking forward to it.
"I assume you have heard about the Ministry's demand to release our prisoners into their custody so they can be tried in front of the Wizengamot," Hermione said an hour later in the living room.
Seamus snorted. "As if! Releasing Death Eaters into the care of the Ministry, so they can let them go? Are they delusional?"
Tania and John nodded in agreement, Hermione noted. She took a deep breath. "Not quite."
"What? You know they'll let them go!" Seamus said, standing up.
"That's quite likely," she agreed. "But if the Wizengamot acquits them, then that will demonstrate to everyone just how corrupt the system is. Such a travesty of justice would serve as a perfect example of the need to reform Wizarding Britain."
"You want to use that to generate more support." Justin nodded. He didn't look quite convinced, though.
"Yes," she said. "On the other hand, if we keep them, or if we try them ourselves, then we'll be portrayed as criminals."
"They'll do that anyway," Louise said. The former Hit-Wizard was sneering.
"We'd make it easier for them, though. The Ministry is claiming that with the war over, there is no reason for vigilantes any more." Hermione scoffed. "Unfortunately, I think that a lot of the purebloods, and even many half-bloods, would agree with them, believing that things have returned to normal. If we let the Ministry portray us as a bunch of kidnappers in defiance of the law, we'd be playing into their hands. On the other hand, if we let them acquit captured Death Eaters, we can build on that."
"I see." Seamus sat down and slowly nodded, then started to grin. "Give them enough rope to hang themselves, eh?"
"Yes." Hermione nodded at him. "And you know that our prisoners are not exactly hard-core Death Eaters." Otherwise Nott, Davis and Greengrass would have shared Malfoy's fate.
"That is true. But it also means that the Wizengamot will have an easier time justifying their acquittal," Justin said, looking at her. "A group of teenagers who joined the Dark Lord because they were afraid for their lives and wanted to avenge their parents… It wouldn't be that hard to portray them in a sympathetic way to the public."
"Bloody Slytherins!" Seamus muttered.
"I agree. But on the other hand, we can point out how they tried to murder children at Hogwarts, then fled when their plan failed, only to attack pureblood supporters of Dumbledore." Hermione grinned. "Not exactly the actions of innocents kids afraid of the Resistance." Appearances mattered more in politics than the truth; that much she knew. She let the others consider that for a moment. "Besides, they're not exactly our prisoners any more - we handed them over to the Order."
"What does the Order want?" Sally-Anne asked.
"The ones who care for the prisoners want to hand them over to the Ministry." So Sirius had told her. She shrugged. "Some of them might hope that the conflict is now over, and they can return to their normal lives."
"Cowards!" Seamus muttered, then clenched his teeth. He probably wanted to call them even worse names.
"They fought bravely against the Dark Lord, but not all of them have realised just how bad the Wizengamot is," Hermione said. "If they see the three prisoners get released, they might change their opinion." Sirius and the Weasleys could work on them, she thought.
"It's still a risk we're taking," Justin said, "but I don't see a better alternative."
"Could always kill them," Seamus said. "Now or later."
Hermione stared at him. That sounded too close to Allan's words for her comfort.
She wasn't the only one staring at him. Seamus noticed, and frowned. "I'm just pointing out options!"
"They're not good ideas," Justin said. "It's widely known that we captured them. If they suddenly disappear, we'll be blamed as murderers."
Hermione cut in. "Yes. Remember all those lies about us wanting to murder all purebloods? The Ministry would spread them all over Wizarding Britain, calling us as bad as the Death Eaters."
Seamus seemed to understand the danger, since he winced and didn't say anything else.
Hermione nodded. "So… all in favour of telling the Order to release the prisoners into the custody of the Ministry?"
The group agreed, some more slowly than others, though.
"Good. I'll tell them." She took a breath. "Now… we need to discuss recruitment for the Resistance. We need more people." She didn't have to point out that they had lost half their number during the war against Voldemort.
"Do you expect that we'll have to fight the Ministry?" Sally-Anne asked, twisting her ponytail around her finger in that nervous habit she had.
"I'd rather be prepared for such a conflict than caught flat-footed," Hermione said.
Justin nodded in agreement. "We'll need to be careful when recruiting, though." Hermione knew he was not just talking about Ministry spies, but people like Allan too. "And it'll take time to train them."
"And money," Louise added.
"Money's not an issue," Hermione said. "Unless we want to recruit so many people that we couldn't train them all, our finances are covered."
"I don't like depending on Black," Seamus muttered. "He's a pureblood."
"He's also an innocent wizard who was sent to Azkaban and spent a decade there," Hermione countered. "He has no love for the Ministry." Quite the contrary. He joked a bit too often about blowing up the Ministry. "But we digress. We need more people - at least half a dozen, though I'd prefer a dozen."
"So many?" Tania frowned. "They would outnumber us."
"Yes." Hermione was well-aware that increasing the Resistance's ranks by that many would change the dynamics of the group. "We'll have to make sure that all recruits fit in."
"We're the veterans who fought in the war. They'd better listen to us," Seamus said.
Mary-Jane spoke up for the first time. "I'm not exactly a veteran." She wasn't looking at anyone, Hermione noticed. "And I'm not exactly a member of the Resistance."
"You've fought in the war," Sally-Anne said, reaching out to pat the girl's hand. "And you just need training."
Louise cleared her throat. "I can contact a few of my friends from school; now that they are returning to Wizarding Britain owl post should be working again. They won't be enough, though."
"And if we pass out a general recruitment notice, we'll get swamped - and alert the Ministry," Justin said.
"I have a solution for that." Hermione grinned. "We need to organise the returning muggleborns anyway. We can use that to find suitable recruits."
"You want to hold a rally?" John looked at her.
"Yes." Hermione nodded at him. "We'll need to be careful about what we say - there'll be spies from the Ministry at any public event - but we have to put pressure on the Wizengamot and the Ministry."
"They'll not cave in to a few demonstrations," Seamus said. "Not the kind that involve waving banners around, at least," he added with a snort.
"I'd rather not start a war," Hermione said, pursing her lips. Not when they were not ready for it, and certainly not when there was still hope that the Ministry would give in.
"Such rallies and demonstrations can easily get out of control," Justin said. "Imagine if someone sent a curse into the crowd. Or if someone starts shouting about hunting down the Death Eaters and their supporters on our list."
"Most of those who were not killed in the war are still in hiding," she said. And the Ministry wasn't exactly working hard to hunt them down, according to Sirius. "But I know we're risking a riot." Security would have to be very tight, Hermione knew. They might even have to hold the rally in a warded building, even though that would lessen its impact. "We have to do this, though, or people will get used to the Ministry being in charge of their lives again. We have to show that we have the support of the population."
Justin sighed. "There goes our spare time!" He was joking, Hermione thought, but the glance he exchanged with Sally-Anne showed that he knew what it meant for the couple's relationship.
She didn't feel too guilty about it, though - she wouldn't have much time to spend with Ron either, and her boyfriend wasn't living with her. And she needed to make time for studying the books Dumbledore had left her. And look into finding a cure for the Withering Curse. She sighed. "Unfortunately, we all will be very busy for the foreseeable future. In addition to recruiting, we need to contact the Major and the Sergeant, organise a training camp, continue and expand our broadcasts, and keep an eye on the Ministry's actions." She pointed at the Daily Prophet. "They already started their smear campaign against Harry."
While the rest of the Resistance, except for Justin, Sally-Anne and John, who had read the issue already, gathered around the newspaper, Hermione leaned back in her seat and wondered how she would find the time to do all that needed doing.
London, No. 12 Grimmauld Place, February 10th, 1997
Ron Weasley raised his wand and banished the Daily Prophet towards the corner of the kitchen. The newspaper hit the wall, then fell to the ground. He saw the dignitaries on the big picture of the front page stumble around, before realigning themselves, and briefly chuckled.
"Ronald!"
His mum was standing in the doorway, shaking her head.
"Sorry, Mum," he said. "I just got fed up with the drivel in it. I didn't know you hadn't read it yet."
"That's not what I meant!" she said. "You shouldn't be using your wand. You're not yet of age."
He stared at her, then laughed - and hissed through clenched teeth when his side hurt again. Laughing wasn't a good idea.
"Ron!" Mum had gone from angry to concerned in a heartbeat, her wand flashing while she cast a spell on his side.
"I'm alright," he protested. "It's just a bit of pain. The muggle Healer said it wasn't dangerous."
She scoffed. "They don't know anything about magic." But she stopped casting, apparently satisfied that he wouldn't bleed out.
Ron sighed. "They saved me. And the wound's not that bad. It can't be healed with magic, but the muggles didn't have trouble with it."
"That was caused by a curse cast by the Dark Lord himself! You almost..." She shook her head, pressing her lips together. He could see some tears in her eyes.
"But I didn't, Mum. I'm alright. Everyone is alright." Everyone in his family, at least.
She sighed and sat down on the chair next to him. He gingerly reached over and laid his arm around her shoulders.
"You still shouldn't use magic outside Hogwarts. It's illegal," she said after a while.
He snorted. "No one cared about that when I was fighting Death Eaters and the Dark Lord."
"But they'll care now. Percy told me that Amelia Bones is just waiting for any opportunity to hurt Arthur's standing in the Ministry."
Oh. Of course Bones would do that. That b… He pressed his lips together, not wanting to upset his mum by cursing, then shrugged. "They'll not detect anything while we're in this house. And I'll be back at Hogwarts soon enough."
"And when you're out with Hermione?"
"Ah…" He stared at her.
She smiled, though she also looked a bit sad. "Did you think I wouldn't know what my children are up to?"
"Well… you didn't catch the twins that often when they were up to something." At least as far as he could tell.
His mum sighed. "They were a handful. Worse than anyone else. But this is different. Of course you'll sneak out to meet your girlfriend. You'd do that even if you hadn't been…" She trailed off, but he knew what she meant.
"Yes." He looked at the crumpled Prophet again.
"Will she be returning to Hogwarts?"
"I don't know. I don't think so." He shook his head, slowly.
"That's… surprising. She was always so dedicated to her education."
"More like fanatical," Ron said, chuckling as he remembered her parting words after their first encounter with Fluffy.
"Did she change that much?" His mum sounded more concerned than he expected.
He thought it over. "It's not so much that she changed - though she did, too - but that things changed. She's just got too much to do to go back to school. Important things. She'll pass her N.E.W.T.s anyway." And with the highest marks, he'd bet on it.
His mum didn't seem to approve. "And what about you?"
"I haven't left Hogwarts, have I?" He smiled at her.
It didn't impress her. She knew him too well. "And if you think you have more important things to do than go to school?"
He didn't answer. He didn't have to.
She sighed.
They sat in silence for a while longer, until she spoke up again. "Why did you hex the newspaper? You were in a number of the pictures, even."
He frowned. "They made it sound as if Hermione is sleeping with both Harry and me."
"Oh!" She hugged him, a bit too forcefully - his side hurt again, but he didn't react. "You know she isn't doing anything of that sort!"
"I know. But it's part of the Ministry's plan. They want to discredit us. Make us look like children so we're not taken seriously." Hermione had predicted that.
"You are not yet adults."
"I'll be seventeen in less than three weeks, Mum." And that made him sound like a child indeed. "And Hermione's already seventeen." Harry though would have to wait a few months more.
"I know. But you'll always be my boy."
He nodded, even though he thought he hadn't been a boy since he had started taking part in the war.
Outside Rawtenstall, Lancashire, Britain, February 11th, 1997
The first thing Daphne Greengrass saw when she woke up was the grey ceiling of her prison. The second thing she saw was the sleeping form of Tracey.
"Good afternoon."
She knew that voice. She was tempted to ignore the speaker. Defy her captors. But she wasn't a Gryffindor. She was a Slytherin. So she turned her head to look at the Weasley twins standing in the door of her cell, wands in hand. "Why did you wake me up?" she asked, making an effort to sound as calm as she could. "Do you want to extort more gold from my family?"
Fred snorted. "No. We woke you up to tell you what happened while you slept."
She stifled a gasp. She couldn't afford to let them know how much she hungered to know what happened to her family. "Ah."
Next to her, Tracey stirred, groaning as she woke up. Daphne saw her friend blink, then heard her mutter a curse.
"Ah, the other sleeping beauty is awake!" George said, with mocking cheerfulness.
Daphne looked around. "Where's Theo?"
Fred shrugged. "He wasn't cooperative, so we didn't bother waking him up."
"Why did you wake us up?" Tracey asked, sitting up, then falling back on her bed with another curse.
"To tell you what happened while you slept," George said, grinning widely.
Daphne glanced at Tracey. The two wizards were entirely too cheerful. That didn't bode well. She kept watching him. He wanted to tell them; she wouldn't lower herself to ask.
"So talk!" Tracey spat.
Fred chuckled. "It's actually good news. The war is over."
"What?" Daphne gasped, staring at the twins.
"The Dark Lord's dead. Harry killed him in a duel." Fred grinned.
"Potter? Potter killed the Dark Lord in a duel?" They had to be lying. No one but Dumbledore could match the Dark Lord. Certainly not Potter - he was in the same year as Daphne!
"Yes. The Boy-Who-Lived defeated the Dark Lord again, and this time for good," Fred said.
"You're lying!" Tracey said.
"I'm not. It happened outside our shop. Or what's left of it. The Dark Lord burned it down trying to kill us, you know." Fred shrugged. "He failed."
"Good riddance," Tracey whispered next to her.
Daphne wasn't really listening to her friend, though. She was staring at the twins. Were they telling the truth? Why would they lie? To torment them? "What's the date?"
"February 11th."
Two months. Exactly two months since she had been captured. And the war was over? The last war had gone on for years!
"That can't be! Potter is just a kid!" Tracey was shaking her head wildly.
George laughed. "Did you forget why he is the Boy-Who-Lived? He defeated the Dark Lord as a toddler! And in his first year. And in his second year. And then again in his fourth year."
"Technically, that one was a draw," Fred cut in. "Anyway. Dumbledore had trained Harry for this, planned it all out. And the Dark Lord fell for it."
Tracey hissed. "So, you don't need us any more, and will kill us now?"
Daphne froze. Was her friend correct? Would they murder them now? They had murdered her family. What had happened to her sister? Astoria wouldn't have joined the Dark Lord, not if only two months had passed. And if she had been killed, wouldn't the twins have told her right away?
Fred frowned. "No. We'll hand you over to the Ministry so you can be tried in front of the Wizengamot."
"Once they get around to it," George added. "Between rebuilding the Ministry and Diagon Alley, the Ministry might be too busy to bother with you. But that's their problem. Ours is how to transport you two. And that's easier if you're not awake. So..." He aimed his wand at her.
"Wait! What happened to my family? To Astoria?" Daphne asked quickly, staring at the tip of his wand. She needed to know!
Fred shrugged. "I don't know. Probably still in hiding."
"Unless she was in Diagon Alley when the Death Eaters started to burn it down," George added, raising his own wand. "Your friends didn't really care about bystanders, you know."
"Wait!" she yelled, raising her hands.
"Stupefy!"
"Stupefy!"
Everything went black.
When Daphne woke up again the first thing she saw was an unfamiliar ceiling. It was a lighter grey. She was alive! They hadn't killed her! The second thing she saw was her uncle.
"Daphne." He smiled at her.
"Uncle Eric!" She sat up - she was on a small bed, barely more than a cot - reaching out for him, but suddenly felt dizzy.
He rushed to catch her, before she fell, and held her while he gently lowered her back on to the bed. "Careful! The Healers said you might be disoriented. Stunned, after spending months under the influence of the Draught of Living Death…"
She closed her eyes, trying to stop the room from spinning. "Where am I?"
"In the Ministry. In a holding cell."
She pulled back, out of his embrace, and stared at him.
He winced. "I'm sorry. The Aurors insisted."
She was still a prisoner, then. The twins hadn't lied about that. "Is it true? Is the Dark Lord dead?"
"Yes." Her uncle nodded, then glanced at the door.
She understood - she had to watch what she was saying. "Astoria?"
"She's safe as far as I know," he said. But he was smiling. So he did know, but couldn't say more.
She sighed with relief. Her sister was safe. Her smile didn't last long, though - she was a prisoner, and she remembered what the twins had told her. Taking a deep breath, she said: "They mentioned I would be put on trial."
"Yes. The Minister was adamant about that." He must have seen her reaction, since he added: "Amelia Bones is the current Minister. Fudge was killed by the Dark Lord."
She stared at him. "What happened? What happened since I was taken prisoner?"
He told her.
Dumbledore dead. The Minister dead. Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade in ruins. Dozens of Ministry employees cursed so they had to be dosed with Draught of the Living Death - she shuddered at the memories that brought up. The Ministry allied with the mudbloods. Mudbloods forcing purebloods out of their homes! Had Britain gone mad during her captivity?
"I can't believe it…" She shook her head, sending her hair flying back and forth.
"It's true," he said. "A lot has happened."
"So much death… I thought Malfoy Manor was the worst that could happen…" She shivered, remembering how her parents had died, then sobbed.
He held her again, rubbing her back.
"But… if the mu… muggleborns are allies with the Ministry…" She bit her lips. How could she receive a fair trial under those conditions? The twins would have known that!
"Do not worry," her uncle said. "The Wizengamot has lost a lot of its members, but it won't bend to pressure from… them, and neither will the Minister."
She slowly nodded, taking a few deep breaths.
"But," he continued, "I need to know what you did. So I can speak in your defence."
He was looking at her with apprehension, she realised. "I haven't killed anyone. And I didn't join the Death Eaters." She hadn't been marked, at least.
"But you fought for the Dark Lord."
"I joined a group led by Draco Malfoy with the goal of protecting our families against the mudbloods trying to murder us. He didn't mention the Dark Lord." Not at the start.
Her uncle stared at her for a moment, then nodded slowly and smiled. "Good. I'm certain that the Wizengamot will understand that."
Daphne hoped he was correct. She didn't think that the Wizengamot would show much mercy to Death Eaters. Not after what they had done. "What about Astoria?"
"She hasn't been accused of anything." He smiled. "My colleagues, and the Ministry, understood her situation very well."
"Ah." Daphne felt more optimistic. If the Ministry didn't go after Astoria, then her own chances were good as well. "Can she visit?"
Her uncle winced. "I would rather she stay safely wherever she is. The Ministry is… some of them might carry grudges." He patted her shoulder as he rose. "I'll coordinate with Cressida and Thaddeus."
So Tracey and Theo were here as well. Daphne hadn't had any reason to doubt that, but it felt good to have confirmation. "Thank you."
He smiled. "Don't worry. I'll push this in the Wizengamot. You'll be home as soon as possible."
With that, he left, and Daphne was alone in her cell. But she wasn't insensate, at least. And she would be free, and with her sister, soon!
Hogwarts, February 12th, 1997
His fame was useful, Harry Potter told himself when he entered the Great Hall and heard the whispers start up as most of the students stared at him. Many people listened to the Boy-Who-Lived. He could help change Britain for the better thanks to his fame. Even more so than he had already, after killing Voldemort.
But as much as he told himself that, he still didn't like being the centre of so much attention. At least it wasn't as bad as it had been right after the battle. Even people he went to classes with had been looking at him as if he was Dumbledore.
It wasn't quite that bad now, though the Daily Prophet's articles covering the Headmaster's funeral hadn't helped matters, despite the subtle dismissive comments sprinkled throughout the praise heaped on him. He shook his head - he didn't want to think about that article. The things they had implied about Hermione, Ron and himself...
Harry wished his friends were here. But Ron was still recovering at Grimmauld Place, and Hermione was with the Resistance, wherever they were. He felt rather alone, especially since if there was an assassin hiding among the crowd, he wouldn't spot them until it was almost too late… He shook his head. He was at Hogwarts, which was among the safest locations in Britain. And if a student attacked they'd regret it dearly.
He noticed Luna was waving at him, and he smiled and waved back before he took a seat opposite Neville, next to Ginny.
"There you are!" the witch said, smiling at him. "Been on a walk again?"
Harry nodded. He had been flying, disillusioned, but it amounted to the same thing, in his opinion. And while he trusted Ginny, she didn't know Occlumency, so her mind wasn't protected against Legilimency. Though if she had used the map, then she would already know what he had been doing.
She nodded, then pushed a plate with roasted chicken towards him. "These are really good."
"Thanks." She beamed at him, then turned back to her own meal.
Neville hadn't said anything, just nodded at him when he had sat down.
"Is everything alright?" Harry asked.
Neville shrugged.
"I'll take that as a 'no'," Harry said, snorting.
"I'm just thinking," Neville said. "Lots to think about, right?" He glanced at Harry, then looked down at his plate again.
"Yes." Though Harry couldn't help wondering what Neville was thinking so hard about. He had inherited a seat on the Wizengamot, and while he wasn't yet old enough to take it himself, his proxy would likely ask his opinion before voting.
It wouldn't take much to use Legilimency. Harry wouldn't even need to make eye contact. Not with the Elder Wand. He frowned and shook his head. He wouldn't do that to Neville. Nor to anyone else.
"What's wrong?" Ginny asked. "You both are looking so…" she made a gesture with her hand, instead of continuing.
"Nothing," Harry said.
"Just thinking," Neville said at the same time.
Ginny frowned, pouting. It was a cute expression, Harry thought, and he almost chuckled in response. She must have noticed anyway, since he saw her eyes narrowing.
"I was thinking of the battle," he said.
"Oh."
And now she looked ashamed for having brought that up. Harry felt guilty for lying to her, but he didn't think telling her that he was pondering whether or not to invade their minds would be a good idea.
"They handed Greengrass, Davis and Nott over to the Ministry," Neville said suddenly.
"Ah." Harry had known of that in advance.
"They'll be tried in front of the Wizengamot," Neville went on. "Next Monday."
Harry hadn't known that. "That's quick."
"Their relatives are pushing for a quick trial." His friend frowned. "I wonder how we should vote."
"In the trial?" Harry asked.
"Yes."
"Shouldn't you - your proxy - decide that during the trial?" Harry couldn't quite hide his reaction to Neville's words.
"We already know that they're Death Eaters. They were caught with Malfoy," Ginny said.
Neville nodded.
"They weren't killed like Malfoy, though," Harry said.
"Did Hermione tell you anything about that?" Neville was looking at him now.
Harry's first impulse was to deny having spoken to her, as he had done for months. But the war was over, and everyone had seen her with him and Ron at the funeral. "We didn't talk much about it. She said that they weren't as bad as Malfoy had been."
"Not exactly a rousing endorsement," Neville said.
"They tried to kill my family," Ginny said through clenched teeth. "It was Malfoy's group who attacked the Burrow. They should be executed!"
Neville nodded, no doubt thinking about his dead gran.
Harry made a vague noise. While he didn't want a repeat of what had happened after the last war, when Death Eaters had gone free claiming they had been under the Imperius, he couldn't help thinking that this was part of what Dumbledore had warned him about. And a good reason to replace the Wizengamot with real judges.
London, Ministry of Magic, February 17th, 1997
Sirius Black made certain to show a neutral expression while he made his way to his seat in the Wizengamot Chamber. He and his 'esteemed colleagues' were gathering for a trial, after all, and would decide the fate of three accused. And Sirius knew better than anyone else how important a trial was.
He sat down and watched the others file in. Not everyone showed the proper decorum. Some joked, some glared. Most were chatting. Eric Greengrass was talking with Cressida Davis. They were smiling.
Sirius frowned for a moment. They had not just pushed for a quick trial, they had also worked on their allies and acquaintances. Were they truly confident that the Wizengamot would acquit the three? Three Death Eaters, who had attacked not just the Burrow, but also a member of the Wizengamot? Barely two weeks after the death of the Dark Lord himself? And with half the Wizengamot afraid that the Resistance would start a war against them?
Would they claim they were under the Imperius? He wouldn't let them get away with that. Not after what had happened in 1981.
Thicknesse, who was once again filling in for the acting Chief Warlock, entered, and called the chamber to order. As usual, it took a while for everyone to quiet down. Then whispers and murmuring broke out again once the three accused were brought in and chained to their chairs. They looked nervous, at least. Though not shaking quite as much as Sirius had expected - but then, they were Death Eaters.
"Honoured members of the Wizengamot! We have gathered here to pass judgement over three accused," Thicknesse started the trial.
Bones's successor was as diligent as the Minister had been, and the list of the crimes of which the three Slytherins were accused took a long time to be read. Multiple counts of attempted murder, conspiracy, treason - all of them were members of the Wizengamot, even if they were too young to actually hold the seat - and even underage magic. Sirius didn't laugh or chuckle at that accusation, but he was in the minority. That wasn't a good sign.
"Daphne Greengrass, how do you plead?"
"Not guilty!"
Sirius's eyebrows rose in surprise. He had heard firmer voices, but not many in that chair.
"Take note that the accused Greengrass pleads 'not guilty'," Thicknesse told the court scribe. "Tracey Davis, how do you plead?"
"Not guilty!"
That one spoke firmly as well. Her plea was noted down.
"Theodore Nott, how do you plead?"
"Not guilty!"
And the boy sounded almost defiant.
While the accused were checked for spells and potions, Sirius watched them. They were putting up a proper facade. That would impress many of his colleagues. Sirius scoffed. That all of them were purebloods of Old Families, heads even, was far more important for many of the members. Wouldn't do to set a precedent for a case against a member of the Wizengamot, would it?
"Since all of the accused are still minors, their guardians will speak up in their defence," Thicknesse announced. "The chair recognises Mister Greengrass."
Sirius saw Eric step down, to stand next to his niece. "Honoured members of the Wizengamot! My niece here stands accused of many crimes. Heinous crimes, even! But I tell you: All she has done is what anyone would have done in her situation. While it is true that she fought for the Dark Lord, she did so unknowingly, and later unwillingly, a victim of cruel circumstances."
"Lies!" one member yelled - Sirius hadn't seen who.
Greengrass didn't ignore the shout, but took it up, to Sirius's surprise. "Lies? No, it's the truth! Do you remember the brutal attack on Malfoy Manor? Among the dozens murdered there were Daphne's parents - my brother and his wife. My niece saw the attack, and only survived due to chance, being in the manor's garden with her sister and friends at the time the muggleborns struck."
He took a deep breath. "Having lost her parents, my nieces returned, grieving, to Hogwarts, thinking they were safe there. But they weren't! Both of them almost died in that cowardly attack on House Slytherin!"
Greengrass ignored the murmurs this time, and went on: "Imagine their situation: Bereft of their parents, under attack in the school, with the authorities unable to find the attackers… what would you have done in that situation? Begged for mercy? Or would you have fought back to defend your family?
"My niece didn't know that the group of students she joined was working for the Dark Lord! All she knew was that muggleborns were attacking her family, and herself, and she wanted to fight back. Misguided? Naive? Perhaps. But what kind of wizards and witches would we be, if we did not take up wands when under attack? Who among us would rather cower then stand up for their family?
"What else could she have done? She was a student, she couldn't have joined the Aurors or Hit-Wizards. And when she realised just who the group's leader was following, it was already too late - we all know what happened to those who defied the Dark Lord!"
"Like the Boy-Who-Lived?" Doge yelled.
Greengrass glared at the older wizard. "He is an exception. Even Dumbledore fell to the Dark Lord's curses. My niece, once she knew who commanded her group, was trapped. Deserting the Dark Lord would not have just doomed herself, but her family as well. So she fought on. And yet she neither took the Dark Mark, nor did she kill anyone. All she did was follow the orders given to her - orders I doubt many among us would have dared to refuse, had they been in her place.
"Honoured members of the Wizengamot! All the crimes my niece has been accused of were either done with the aim of protecting herself and her sister, or committed under duress of the highest order. She did nothing anyone else wouldn't have done in her place. I urge you to acquit her, so she may, after two months spent as a prisoner of the Muggleborn Resistance, finally return to her family!"
So that was their tactic, Sirius noted. And it was working, as he could tell from the reactions of the other members. He could have mentioned the fact that they had used a dark curse on Nigel Nye, a member of the Wizengamot… but then, that might lead to the revelation that that attack had been set up by Dumbledore, with the cooperation of Nye himself. Still, the Wizengamot had to know that letting a Death Eater go would enrage the muggleborns. He rose. "That's a fair tale, Mister Greengrass, but there were a lot of tales told after the last war as well, and we all know how many of those were true."
"My niece is ready to affirm the truth of her claims with Veritaserum. Though given her age, and her status as head of my family, she will only do so under the condition that I am the one to question her, lest others abuse the opportunity to expose my family's secrets."
Sirius had not expected that. Usually, the accused tended to try to use any excuse to avoid being questioned under Veritaserum. At least those who had not been prepared for it - but the girl was too young for that; not even Harry, who had been trained by Dumbledore himself, would be able to withstand Veritaserum. Was the story Sirius had heard actually true? He doubted it, still. And yet… would Greengrass dare to offer this, otherwise?
And the offer alone would impress many, and make others doubt themselves. If Sirius was allowed to word the questions… but he wasn't. And Thicknesse wasn't even trying to add that caveat. Greengrass must have been expecting this. They might have made a deal, even.
Well-played, Sirius thought. Well-played indeed.
"Did you know for certain that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater when you joined him at Hogwarts?"
Daphne Greengrass found it hard to think. Too hard. Everyone had known that Draco's father was a follower of the Dark Lord - and Draco had followed his father blindly. But had she known for certain? He hadn't come out and said it until they had left Hogwarts… "No."
"Is it true that you wanted to leave, but couldn't, since you feared what the Dark Lord would do to you?"
"Yes."
"There you have it, honoured members of the Wizengamot!"
Daphne felt someone grab her head. "Open your mouth."
She did - there was no reason not to, was there? Then she swallowed whatever they had just dropped in her mouth. It tasted terrible. It tasted like...
Daphne shivered when she recovered her wits. That had been a dreadful experience, her mind clouded by the potion, unable to refuse anything. She wanted to hug herself, but she was still chained to the chair. She looked up. Was it over already? Her uncle was smiling at her, but Thicknesse was talking...
"Those in favour of acquittal, raise your wands!"
The chamber brightened as wands were lit. Daphne strained her neck, trying to count the wands. Was it enough? She couldn't see the whole chamber from her seat, the backrest blocked her view. But her uncle was smiling. Did that mean…
"Daphne Greengrass, the Wizengamot has judged you not guilty. Aurors, release her."
She was free. She was free! As soon as her chains were loosened, she rushed to hug her uncle.
