AN: I do not own Harry Potter, that honor goes to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter 17: The Minister of Magic
Harry tossed and turned all night, agonizing over what would happen the next day. He knew Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall asked him to trust them but he didn't see what they could do. The Minister of Magic wanted to make an example out of him to get at Dumbledore. He wanted to blame the Headmaster but couldn't muster the anger. Exhaustion and worry raged in his mind as he tried to channel his frustration as Instructor Elliot had taught him.
"Push forward," he muttered to himself over and over as he stared at the overhead canopy of his bed through watery eyes. "Push forward," he repeated and tried to take even breaths. "Push forward, push forward, push forward," he muttered through his tears. He'd found magic, something he loved and didn't want to lose it.
"Focus, focus, focus," he chanted and tried to wrack his brain to try and find a solution. He tried to remember every detail he'd ever read about the Wizengamot and came up with nothing. A feeling of helplessness overwhelmed him.
Frustrated with himself, the Ministry, Fudge, Dumbledore, and everything in the wizarding world, he rolled out of bed and opened his trunk with a wave of his hand. Gritting his teeth, he rooted around his trunk, looking for his books on magical history. His hand bumped a large envelope with his name on it. He paused and realized it was the information Astoria had gotten for him in exchange for making her a flashcard. Picking up the thick envelope, he closed his trunk with a sigh. He didn't think he could find a way to fight Fudge without more time to prepare.
The common room was dark, lit only by the dying embers in the fireplace. He relit the charred logs and took a seat on the stiff cushion of one of the armchairs. Opening the envelope, he took out the hand-bound small book. Thick, fibrous string snaked its way down one side of the parchments in large loops. Curious, he tugged on the corner of the top parchment to see if it would come loose of the bindings. He felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips when he realized either Astoria or Daphne enchanted the parchments to be impervious to rips and tears.
Sitting back in the chair, he started to read what Daphne had managed to copy, hoping it would distract him from his worries. The first thing that stood out to him was Daphne's elegant, loopy handwriting. It became clear she took a lot of care in copying each sentence. At first, Harry skimmed over the parchment but after stumbling over a few unfamiliar terms and spells he slowed down and took his time.
"Master Harry Potter, it's time to get up," Dobby said in a low voice.
Harry blinked and looked around. It was still dark outside and the fire was still burning strong. He tried to orient himself and realized he'd fallen asleep for an hour. The booklet of parchments lay across his lap, open to the last page he'd been reading. "Ah, thank you, Dobby," he muttered, blinking his eyes again to try and rid himself of the spots in his vision.
"Dobby is glad he can help Harry Potter," the house-elf crooned and beamed at him. "Dobby will be rooting for Master Harry Potter," he continued before disappearing with a quiet pop.
Harry got up and carefully put the booklet back in the envelope. He couldn't wait to share what he'd started to read with Hermione until he remembered the inquiry. Clenching his teeth, he went back to his trunk and dressed in his best robes.
"Come in," Professor McGonagall called when he knocked on her office door five minutes later.
Harry entered and blinked when he realized four people were waiting on him. Arthur Weasley beamed at him from near the fireplace while Professor Lupin stared at him with an unreadable expression. Albus Dumbledore gave him his best smile. "Harry, you look ready," he said in a low voice. "While it may seem all is lost, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to ensure you do not get expelled," he promised in a somber tone.
Harry nodded, not trusting his words. Mr. Weasley walked over to him and clapped him on the shoulder. "Harry, you've done nothing wrong so no matter what remember that," he said in a low voice. "Molly and I know how hard you and Hermione work on your studies. Never let anyone else tell you otherwise."
Again, Harry nodded, not trusting his voice. Professor Lupin spoke up a moment later. "When you get back, we'll work on some of the more advanced subjects for Defense Against the Dark Arts. I know it isn't a flashy subject but I might be able to teach you a new thing or two," he said with a smile. When Harry nodded, the professor smiled and continued, "we'll be waiting for you when you get back."
"Harry, stay with me at all times and do not speak unless absolutely necessary. I can't stress the importance of this," Professor McGonagall instructed as she scrutinized him. She pulled a potion bottle out of her desk drawer and handed it to him.
"Invigorating Draught," Harry muttered as he stared into the orange liquid. The small sediments of peppermint and Alihosty leaves created green flakes that floated around in the viscous liquid.
"Drink it," the professor instructed as she eyed him. "You look peaked and there are bags under your eyes," she continued and drew out her wand. She pointed it at his face and muttered something that Harry couldn't hear. A tingle of magic ran over his face. "There, it won't fool the most observant, but it'll do."
Harry had to trust the professor knew what she was doing as he drank the potion. The thick liquid ran down his throat, sending pulses of energy through his body. Feeling like he could read a hundred books, he looked around the room with bright eyes.
"You're ready," Dumbledore said a moment later with a small smile. "One last thing," he said in a low voice. "Be respectful when answering everyone's questions. If you lash out, someone will capitalize on your anger and use it against you. Keep your head up and never forget that they are in the wrong here," he coached in a hard tone. "You have my word this will not go unmarked."
"Right, we'll need to get a move on," Arthur announced and threw a bit of green powder into the fireplace. "Harry, you've seen me do this loads of times, but be clear. Ministry of Magic," he announced and stepped into the green fire, letting the rest of the Floo Powder drop into the flames.
Harry breathed out and followed Mr. Weasley's example. The jerk behind his navel was less pronounced as he was flung backward through the darkness. A small cluster of fireplaces appeared and disappeared in a flash before a long stretch of nothingness. Less than a minute later, he tried to time his step so he would walk out of the Ministry's fireplace instead of falling out of it. It was a close thing but he managed to not stumble he appeared in the massive entranceway to the Ministry of Magic.
The large hall had gilded fireplaces down both sides of the corridor. Large, ornate arched pillars supported a ceiling that he couldn't see far above his head. He strode across the glossy dark wood floor toward where Mr. Weasley stood, talking to a dumpy wizard in multicolored robes. A witch disappeared into a fireplace on the right side of the hall just as a wizard appeared in the fireplace beside where Harry arrived from.
Professor McGonagall appeared from a fireplace closer to where Mr. Weasley stood, her eyes hard and only a thin line could be seen of her mouth. She locked eyes with Harry and motioned for him to follow her with a small jerk of her finger. As Harry drew closer to the main, massive hall, he realized the ceiling overhead appeared as if it peaked out from behind a dark raincloud. Runic symbols, many of which he could read, moved across the peacock blue tile. A massive statue drew his attention as Mr. Weasley led them out of the large corridor.
A group of massive golden statues, depicting a wizard, a witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf, all looking upward. The sculptor depicted the centaur, goblin, and house-elf with adoring expression while the witch and wizard had small, knowing smiles. The witch and wizard conjured spouts of water into the surrounding pool of crystal clear water. Thousands of windows around the circular room started from the top of the statue to the ceiling. A small plaque under the fountain said all proceeds from the Fountain of Magical Brethren would be given to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Owls of every species flew around the room as morning light filtered in from the domed roof. Mr. Weasley led them to the large golden gates at the far end of the room. He stopped by a desk next to the gates.
"Eric," Arthur called in a jovial voice. "How are the wife and kids?" he questioned.
A poorly-shaven wizard in peacock blue robes looked up at Mr. Weasley and blinked. "Quite fine, quite fine. How is your family?" Eric asked in a light tone.
"Always getting up to some sort of trouble, my twins," Mr. Weasley said with a full-bellied laugh. "Two visitors today," he announced and stepped aside so Eric could see Harry and Professor McGonagall.
"Hello, what are your names, and what brings you to the Ministry?" the guard questioned as he looked at Harry.
"Harry Potter and I'm here for the inquiries," Harry said after a moment.
Eric's face darkened as he looked Harry over. "Wand," he spat and stuck out his hand. He produced a golden instrument in his other hand as he stared hard at Harry.
Blinking at the sudden change in the wizard's attitude, Harry produced his wand and passed it over. Eric dropped his wand into the strange brass instrument, which looked like a set of scales with only one dish. A moment later, a strip of parchment came out of the base of the scales. Eric tore it off and read, "eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use two years. That correct?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow as he looked Harry over.
"Yes," Harry answered in a flat voice.
"Here," Eric muttered and thrust Harry's wand back at him as he impaled the bit of parchment on a small brass spike. He produced a short, willow wand and waved it over a box in front of him. "Reason for coming to the Ministry?" he asked in an official tone.
Harry thought for a second before saying, "to clear my name."
Eric's eyebrows rose but didn't comment as he muttered something. A moment later, a silver badge appeared as the box opened. "Wear this," he instructed and glanced at Harry's forehead.
Professor McGonagall was next. Eric was about to read off how many years her wand had been in use until she coughed and gave him a hard look. "Nine and a half inches, fir, dragon heart-string, uh, correct, ma'am?" Eric questioned again in a quavering voice.
"Correct and I am here to speak for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," she announced in an imperious voice. The dumpy wizard nodded and worked as fast as he could to produce the professor's visitors badge.
"This way," Mr. Weasley instructed as they stepped away from the security desk. Eric watched on with sweat beading around his brow.
The quiet hall was starting to grow louder as more Ministry workers started appearing in the fireplaces or Apparating near the statue. Many were reading the Daily Prophet as they mechanically made their way toward the golden gates. The small hall beyond the gates had twenty lifts behind golden grilles. Mr. Weasley led them to the closest open one and stepped inside. A dark-eyed witch in brown robes leaned against the far wall of the lift with a small bag in her hand.
"Hello, Arthur," she said in a tired voice.
"Amalie," Mr. Weasley greeted. "Still having trouble with the atmospheric charms?" he questioned in a soft tone.
"Yes, the Minister is never comfortable in his office it seems," she muttered and wiped her face with her hand. "I haven't slept in over twenty-four hours."
"Lisbon still won't let anyone else help?" Arthur questioned with a frown.
The golden grille clanged shut and the lift shook for a moment before the lift rocketed upward. Harry fought to keep his balance as the lift moved sideways. He couldn't hear what the witch replied but could hear Arthur speaking aloud that the next stop should be on Level Five. It took Harry a bit to become used to the sudden change in direction of the lift. Less than a minute later, the grille opened and Amalie left the lift with a lethargic wave.
"Here we are," Mr. Weasley announced as the grille opened again two minutes later. "We're on time but we need to hurry," he said in a rush and looked around at the empty hall.
Harry followed behind and looked at the bare, stone walls. A plain black door sat at the very end of the corridor. Mr. Weasley directed Harry away from the door and through an opening in the wall that led to a flight of stairs leading downward.
"They never use these courtrooms," he muttered as he thundered down the stone steps. "The lift doesn't even come down this far," he complained.
Harry noticed the dungeon-like appearance of the next floor. Rough stone walls and torches with brackets made him think of the corridor leading to Snape's classroom. Large, heavy wooden doors were evenly spaced along the long corridor with thick iron braces and sturdy, metallic keyholes. He thought they looked like jailcell doors.
"Courtroom Seven," Mr. Weasley muttered as he glanced over at one of the doors as they passed.
A dark-skinned wizard stepped out of an opening door farther up the hall. Dark shadows hid much of his face as he turned to look at Mr. Weasley approaching him. "Weasley," he growled. "You're here at the Ministry early," he said in a low voice. He looked at Harry and Professor McGonagall and raised an eyebrow. "The cheat," he greeted Harry with a tight-lipped smile.
"Harper," Arthur greeted in a hard tone. "You're in the way," he said as he glared at his coworker.
"Just giving Fudge the last bit of evidence," the wizard said with a grin. "Have a good day," he taunted before striding off.
"Harry, I can't go in, but remember to keep your head," Mr. Weasley warned. "I'll be right here when you get out."
Harry nodded and thanked Mr. Weasley. His stomach churned as he entered the large, oppressive dungeon room. The atmosphere in the dark stone room increased his uneasiness. He gritted his teeth so he wouldn't show his fear. The dim torches lit shadowy figures sitting on three tiers of stone benches as he descended the short stairs to the oval, flat platform in the middle of the room. Standing behind a large podium at one end of the room was the Minister of Magic.
"Harry," Fudge greeted in a warm voice. His tone darkened as his eyes flicked to Professor McGonagall descending the stairs behind him. "You are not allowed an advocate for this inquiry," he said in a frosty tone.
"I am here as Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, or are you going to deny the school to view these proceedings?" she questioned in a hard voice.
Fudge leaned back, his face becoming masked in shadow as he turned to a figure beside him. A moment later, his face reappeared as he leaned forward again. "You may stay but cannot speak unless directed," he allowed, his words clipped and angry. "Harry, stand before us," he commanded.
Mustering his courage and locking eyes with the Minister of Magic, Harry strode into the middle of the room and stood at parade rest. If he was going to stand for a long time, he wanted to be as comfortable as possible. A low murmur of conversation echoed around the room. Harry knew magic was concealing their voices because he could just make out faint words but couldn't hear what they were saying.
"Harry James Potter, you stand accused of cheating on your final examination in June of last year. How do you plead?" Fudge said in a rush.
"I have no reason to cheat," Harry answered, keeping his eyes locked on the Minister.
Fudge blinked and looked away. "So you say," he sneered. "I have overwhelming proof that you did. Harry, your mentor stole the exam parchments you wrote and inexpertly changed the answers to the correct ones, giving you a near-perfect score."
Harry raised an eyebrow but didn't answer. He continued to look at Fudge, waiting for a question. The Minister shifted from behind the podium. "How do you plead to this evidence?" he questioned after a full minute had passed.
"I have no reason to cheat. The Ministry has nothing I want. The Advanced Course provided me with a direction to study magic," Harry said in what he hoped was an even voice.
"Preposterous," a cool voice called from a group of shadowy figures somewhere to Harry's left. "Everyone uses the Ordinary Wizarding Level scores to deme if you are worth hiring," the masculine voice continued.
Harry thought the speaker might be older by the slight rasp to his voice. "I have more than enough Galleons to never work again. That and why would I want to join a government that throws people in Azkaban without proof?" he answered without taking his eyes off Fudge.
The Minister shifted again, unable to look Harry in the eyes. "Be that as it may, you cheated," Fudge repeated and drew his wand. "Here is proof," he announced and waved his wand. A stack of parchment appeared in front of Harry as a table materialized in front of him. "Everyone has read this already," he continued in a hard voice. "The evidence speaks for itself."
Harry glanced at the stack of parchment and noted some of the answers had indeed been changed. The two distinct handwritings stood out on the top page. He frowned. "A near-perfect score?" he questioned as he read the first question. "This is only part of my Charms exam," he announced to the room. "Some of the answers are changed but it isn't in any handwriting I know. Also, whoever forged this got the first question completely wrong," he said with a laugh.
The room filled with muffled conversation. "Preposterous," Fudge said with a sneer. "You got a perfect score in Charms. These are O.W.L. questions. Are you implying the Department of Magical Education graded your exams wrong?" he continued with a hard laugh.
Harry stared down the Minister before answering. "What is written says the Scouring Charm, Scourgify, is a cleaning charm to make an object clean using a soap substance. It goes on to explain how it can be used on common household objects, as a form of punishment, and to magically sterilize equipment mediwizards use. However, the last bit is wrong. In the Standard Book of Spells, grade four, Miranda Goshawk states that the spell is not to be used in conjunction with healing equipment and spells as it doesn't clean all foreign substances, just common ones. If what was written was true, then you could use Scourgify to magically clean highly-contagious illnesses within the magical community," he answered in a calm voice.
Fudge blinked at Harry, his fatherly smile slipping. "There is no proof of what you say," he said a moment later. "I don't have time to go on a fact-finding mission. It is clear you cheated," he pressed. "Admit it so we can move on. The punishment will be lessened if you do," he tempted.
"I didn't cheat," Harry maintained in an even voice. He refrained from saying that fact-finding was the exact nature of why the Ministry used inquires to question potential suspects.
"Harry," Fudge continued in a low voice.
"Mr. Potter, please, or Heir Potter," Harry interrupted in a hard voice. "We are not on speaking terms, Minister."
Fudge's face darkened, his fatherly smile sliding off his face. "Then you leave me no choice. Look over this document and sign it before I can release the next bit of proof," he ordered with a sneer. Another parchment appeared in front of Harry along with an inkwell and quill.
Harry noticed the Minister hadn't conjured the parchment. He glanced down and raised an eyebrow. The entire parchment was written in Ancient Runes. Anger flooded through him as he read what was written. "Is this a joke, Minister?" he questioned in a harder tone than he'd meant.
"What?" Fudge asked, blinking as Harry looked up at him. "No, you sign that parchment so I can release the information from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
Harry continued to stare down the Minister. He glanced down and read aloud, trying to suppress his fury. "The first sentence of this parchment says: I, Harry James Potter, agree and acknowledge that I cheated on my final exam," he said and looked back up at the Minister.
"Then you admit it then?" Fudge questioned with a deep frown.
"No, this is the document you wanted me to sign. A confession I did not give," Harry spat.
Fudge blinked and pulled his wand. He summoned the document to him. "It's in Ancient Runes," he grumbled. "It's been a while," he muttered to himself.
"He lies," a smooth, crooning voice called from beside the Minister.
Fudge nodded to himself. "I good stalling tactic, Mr. Potter," he allowed with a small smile. "You're in your third year. There is no way you could read this," he continued with an eye roll.
"We could let an impartial... third-party read the parchment you have," Harry prompted in a grating voice. "I told you what it says."
"Then you refuse to sign this?" Fudge questioned with a frown.
"It is a fake confession," Harry responded, trying to clamp down on his anger. He wasn't sure if the Minister was playing dumb or was just ignorant.
"You are impeding this investigation," Fudge declared in a deep voice. "I can pronounce you guilty if you do not cooperate."
"I think you'll find you can't in this inquiry," a familiar voice called out. Madam Bones appeared to Harry's right, her face a hard mask. "In a hearing, you could, but this is not a criminal hearing."
"I think you'll find it is," Fudge said with a smirk. "It was changed to a criminal trial yesterday when new information came to light."
Madam Bones hummed, a distinctly dismissive sound, before leaning back. Harry wasn't sure how he felt with Madam Bones in the room but he decided he'd rather have her here than not. He stared at the Minister, waiting.
Fudge coughed and looked around. "If you refuse to sign this parchment then I will have to move forward with sentencing," he announced in a hard voice. He floated the parchment back over to Harry and waited.
Harry stared the Minister down without moving. "I will not sign a fake confession," he maintained in an even voice.
"You and I both know it isn't," Fudge said with a sigh.
"And yet, it is," Harry persisted.
"So be it," Fudge said after a moment.
"Hogwarts School wishes to speak," Professor McGonagall said into the silent room.
"You have no power here," Fudge hissed.
"I wish to make a copy for our records. Every instance of wrong-doing is documented," the professor continued.
"Ah, well," Fudge blustered. "I don't suppose," he allowed after a moment.
Professor McGonagall stood, the magic concealing her vanishing as she raised her wand. A bright flash of light erupted from beside Fudge and hit the table in front of Harry. Flames exploded over the table and burned the parchment in front of him.
Harry made a split-second decision. He pretended to stumble and let the aggressive fire catch on his sleeve. The intense fire on the table ignited his sleeve in seconds. Pandamonium rained around the room as Harry waved his arm, trying to put out the advancing flames. He knew his left forearm was burning from the faint smell of cooked meat. "Aguamenti," he intoned, pointing his wand at his robes.
"What?!" Fudge blustered looking Harry over.
"Cursed fire," Harry reported with a frown. "You used cursed fire to destroy evidence," he accused. "I demand you and your accomplices to be held responsible."
"What?!" Fudge asked in a strangled voice. "Surely it was an accident," he muttered and looked at the shadowy figures behind him.
"I will be pursuing this," Harry promised. "Call a mediwizard," he ordered. "My arm is burned."
"What?!" Fudge blustered again.
It took twenty minutes for a mediwizard to arrive. The dour witch with slick-black hair looked around the room and sniffed. Her eyes focused on Harry. Without a word, she strode up to Harry, who was sitting on a plush chair he conjured, and went to work. "You'll have more scarring," she announced after a moment.
"Was it a cursed fire?" Fudge asked the mediwitch, his eyes narrowed.
The witch glanced between Harry and Fudge, her lips pursed. "It was not Fiendfyre," she allowed after a moment.
Harry snorted but didn't comment. He knew from Master Ogata and his studies that there were other fire-based spells that were cursed fire. "There, you'll be fine," Fudge said in a fatherly voice.
"More scarring," Harry repeated with an arched eyebrow. "I guess that doesn't matter to someone like you though, Minister," he said, anger lacing his tone. He pulled his arm away from the mediwitch.
"Now, now," Fudge blustered. "We were discussing your sentencing," he continued as if the last thirty minutes never happened.
Harry stood and looked at his arm. He tried to think of a law he could use to stall or stop the Minister from continuing. "We will deliberate," Fudge said and nodded to someone behind Harry.
Everything happened at once. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up just as a force hit him in the left shoulder, on the spot Quirrell hit him with the curse that burned his skin. His vision dimmed to darkness just as all sound cut off. He swayed before tensing his calf muscles to balance himself. It took him a moment to realize he could still taste and smell. The musty scent of the dungeon room assaulted his nose as his other senses failed him. A coppery taste flooded his mouth as he realized he'd bit his lip.
With nothing to do, he focused inward and found the foreign magic around his eyes and clogging his ears. Focusing his intent, he tried poking and prodding the strange magic as he tried to understand what the spell did. It took him some time, but he flooded his left ear with his magic, dissipating the spell entirely. Pain lanced through his head as air rushed into his ear canal.
"There, can you hear and see me now?" Fudge said a moment later.
Harry winced but didn't rub his ear. He didn't want to give away that he'd figured out how to negate the spell. "Yes," he muttered and blinked as his vision sharpened.
"I have provided the Wizengamot the evidence you refused access to. As such, you can only say if you are innocent or guilty to the charge," Fudge announced in an imperious voice.
Harry raised an eyebrow and waited. He stared down the Minister with a mild expression on his face. The Wigenweld Potion the healer had given him made him feel a little giddy. He glanced at the witch who was watching him and wanted to scold her for not letting the boom berry juice simmer long enough. The thought made him imagine Snape berating him for not getting everything perfect.
"You think this is funny?" the Minister thundered.
Harry realized he was grinning as he turned his attention back on the Minister. "Honestly? Yes," he answered with a shrug. "This is a farce, Minister. We both know it."
"The evidence says otherwise," Fudge pressed in a dark tone. "You refuse to answer to the charge?" he questioned.
"How can I?" Harry asked. He felt his grin widen as a rush of energy rocketed through his body. "I don't even know what the charge is."
"Dark Magic," the Minister accused. "You used Dark Magic to impress your proctor."
Harry blinked and burst out laughing. "The Fireworks Spell I made is dark magic? Seriously? The spell, with a basis of the Fire-Making Charm, Color Variation, and Noise Charm is dark magic? Wow, what are we being taught at Hogwarts then?" he jeered.
"This is no laughing matter!" Fudge bellowed.
"No, it really is Minister," Harry answered with a shrug. "I made the spell in my first year as a joke charm to make fireworks with."
"Preposterous," multiple voices called out. Fudge had to call the room to order. "As my fellow colleagues said, that is preposterous. There is no way a first-year created their own spell," the Minister said with a dismissive wave.
"We can use Veritaserum," Harry announced. His suggestion silenced the Minister. "I submit myself to the use of Veritaserum to prove my innocence," he continued in a strong voice. "Ask your questions because I know without a shred of doubt that I obtained my marks through hard work and skill."
"That," Fudge spluttered and shook his head. "That is a waste of a precious potion," he finished and glared at Harry. "You could lie, negating the effects of the potion."
"So am I a cheating hack or am I a skilled Occlumens?" Harry questioned in a mocking tone. "It can't be both, Minister."
Fudge's eyebrows rose but he didn't respond. "We don't have time for this," he spat. "Answer me now, are you guilty of cheating and using Dark Magic?"
"No, I don't need to cheat and I've never cast a dark spell," Harry answered in an even voice.
"Then you leave me no choice but to sentence you," Fudge declared. "Harry James Potter, the evidence submitted is overwhelming. I, and this governing body," he said over the increased murmurs around the room," must punish you as an example of the high standards demanded by our great country." He drew himself up to his full height and peered down at Harry over the podium. "This is your last chance or I will be forced to expel you from Hogwarts," he warned.
The low noise around the room grew. Harry realized multiple Wizengamot members must be close to shouting for him to hear, loud indistinct voices. "Last chance to?" Harry questioned, fully knowing what the Minister would ask him to do.
"Admit you cheated," Fudge said in his fatherly tone. "Stop wasting our time. Admit it to us and the wider world and we can work with you. Being honest in front of the Wizengamot is paramount. There will be consequences, such as losing your future position within this governing body, but you will still have your wand," the Minister said in a soothing voice.
Harry stared him down, not speaking. The noise around the room stopped as if someone cast a Silencing Spell. An uncomfortable itching feeling crawled over Harry's scarred skin when he realized everyone had their eyes on him. "It seems," he started before stopping.
Fudge's beady eyes bulged as he leaned forward but didn't speak. Harry took a deep breath. "It seems in your crusade to attack Dumbledore, you forgot to account for me," he continued in a hard voice. Fudge's face contorted. "Your willful disregard for magical children's lives has shown me what you and this governing body is worth. Nothing," Harry continued, his voice rising. "I could care less what you, this corrupt assembly, or the wizarding community thinks of me. All I've wanted to do is study. It seems... I need to go elsewhere to do so."
The shouts from around him penetrated the magic. He heard his name called out multiple times. Clenching his teeth, he stared down Fudge who was looking at him with an unfriendly expression. "I see," the Minister said and turned to speak with someone beside him.
Harry had tried to trust Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall but after standing in front of the Minister and the Wizengamot, he realized he'd rather trust in Master Ogata. His mentor had taught him and done more for him than anyone else. He continued to wait, in parade rest, while the Wizengamot argued. From the muffled and indistinct voices, he could tell groups of people sat together and spoke around the same time.
The deliberation lasted for thirty minutes. Harry shifted on his feet so his legs didn't hurt, as Instructor Elliot taught him during their long drills. The entire time, he stared at where Fudge sat, cloaked in shadow. Fudge reappeared and looked down at Harry. "You realize," he said with a sneer," once you have your wand snapped you can never do magic again."
"Legally, within Britain, yes," Harry answered. "There are multiple accounts in the past were countries, even Great Britain, have taken exiled witches and wizards in because of their skill or value and allowed them to use magic again."
Fudge blinked at him and frowned. "That doesn't seem likely," he muttered.
"In 1922, Alwina Krueger, the German Ministry of Magic exiled her for acting against wizarding law to save Muggles. She inadvertently killed two wizards who were working with Muggle forces at the time. Amusing, right? Anyway, the British Ministry of Magic took her in as an accomplished Atmospheric Witch," Harry supplied with a smile. He'd have to thank Hermione for the slip of parchment she passed him before she went to bed. She knew and understood what he would decide to do without asking. To him, the slip of parchment was her way of accepting his decision.
Fudge grimaced before turning back to his colleagues beside him. A moment later, he came back with a triumphant look on his face. "While Krueger isn't a common name. We don't have anyone by that family name working for the Magical Maintenance Department," he announced. "A good lie if I've ever heard one," he teased.
Harry shrugged and grinned back. "I could say the sky was blue and you'd say it was green and call me a liar. It's what you do Fudge," he shot back.
"That is Minister of Magic to you," Fudge blustered and glared down at Harry. "As is your right," he ground out as if he were chewing on glass. "You may speak for one minute in your defense."
Harry snorted and shook his head. "Sic Semper Tyrannis, Minister," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "No matter what I say you have denied me the ability to prove my innocence. You won't let me retake any exam. You won't let me, who is willing to, take Veritaserum. You're blind to the fact I've conjured a chair to sit on. I've created water from my wand to soothe the burns your stooge attacked me with. I know Ancient Runes and read the trap you set for me. And," he tried to continue but Fudge cut him off.
"Enough, I've heard enough. It is obvious you do not want to confess. As is my right as Minister of Magic. I hereby declare you, Mr. Harry James Potter is to be," he said but was cut off before he could finish. The chamber door crashed open, blocking out any words the Minister might have said.
Albus Dumbledore strode into the chamber, looking livid. Three distinct individuals followed in behind him, along with an elderly wizard that looked like he might have been Master Ogata's father. "Cornelius, you dare attack an innocent student this way?" he thundered. Harry noticed the calm look in the Headmaster's eyes and realized Dumbledore must have used an Amplifying Charm.
"What is the meaning of this?" Fudge yelled. The magic suppressing the room's voices broke as angry voices thundered their protests.
When the magic broke, it also revealed the members of the Wizengamot. Harry took the time to look at each group of witches and wizards. It surprised him to realize that there were young members on the council as well. Professor McGonagall gave Harry a tight-lipped smile as they locked eyes. Madam Bones and Augusta Longbottom stared down at him with unreadable expressions. The Wizengamot assembly wore dark robes and tall, conical dark hats. Harry took note of the people beside Fudge especially.
A short, frog-like witch in lurid pink robes glared down at Dumbledore and Harry. On Fudge's left side sat an old, overweight wizard with dark hair that reminded Harry a little of Theodore Nott. An older wizard with a twisted nose and mismatched eyes sat beside Mr. Nott and glared down at Harry. A horribly familiar face stood out to Harry among the group around Fudge. Aarav, the sour-faced Auror, dressed in brown robes, who escorted Harry to Azkaban stared Harry in the eyes, ignoring the heated debate between Dumbledore and Fudge. Harry had a strong suspicion he knew who cast the cursed fire at the table in front of him.
The thought about being attacked made him turn and look behind him. A large group of witches and wizards sat clustered together. He tried to mentally trace the spot the spell hit his shoulder back to the caster. Two wizards, who weren't wearing the official garb of the Wizengamot, stood out to him. The first wizard wore green and black robes, his bright eyes watching Dumbledore and Fudge's argument. A curved, cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. The second wizard looked younger with a ruddy complexion and bulging eyes. Harry noted the tip of a white wand in contrast with the wizard's dark robes.
"...you can't do this Dumbledore," Fudge complained.
Harry refocused on the conversation and looked back to Fudge and Dumbledore. "I assure you, as the Supreme Mugwump, I can," Dumbledore corrected with a small smile. "Evidence has come to light that someone has tampered with the evidence in this case and by doing so, opens the Ministry up for investigation."
"Preposterous!" Fudge bellowed. "You're just trying to save your precious pupil from just punishment!"
"I assure you, after the true inquiry for Mr. Potter, we will know the truth," Dumbledore answered with a small smile.
"This is highly irregular," someone from the Wizengamot announced.
"Yes, it is," one of Dumbledore's companions interjected. He stepped forward and Harry took a good look at him. The stylish wizard in orange robes looked around the room until his eyes fell on Fudge. It surprised Harry to see hatred etched on the wizard's face until he realized who it was. Thomas had undergone even more changes. He no longer looked like death warmed over. Now, he stood proud and confident as he stared down the Minister of Magic.
"The testimonies of the examiners who marked Mr. Potter's exams are suspiciously ignored and dismissed. The testimony of the proctor who had the exams with him the entire time is ignored, and the report from the Committee on Experimental Charms was falsified," Thomas announced in a deep, furious voice.
"Lies," Fudge spat but Harry could hear the quaver in his voice.
"We have all the real evidence here, Fudge," Dumbledore said in a quiet voice. "I believe you may have been given the wrong information and you are not attacking an innocent student," the Headmaster said in a soothing voice.
"Really?" Fudge questioned, looking at the group behind him. "We don't have all day, Dumbledore. We have more cases to see," he allowed after a moment.
"Naturally, in a courtroom that hasn't been used in over ten years," Dumbledore said in a low voice. A small murmur ran around the room.
"My name is Evandro Costa," the olive-skinned wizard said and stood in front of Harry. His thick accent made it hard for Harry to understand him. "I am part of the Inquisitorial Department of the International Confederation of Wizards," he announced to the room. The room went silent in an instant.
Fudge managed to speak first. "We aren't a rogue government, Dumbledore!" he gasped out.
"It was not I who called for an Arbiter," Dumbledore announced.
"I called them," the Asian wizard called out in broken English. "Seitaro is my son," Mr. Ogata announced.
"You?" Fudge questioned in a dark tone. "You're part of the Japanese Delegation," he hissed. "This is an attack on our country!"
"I think not, Minister," Dumbledore said in a low voice. "The Arbiter is here for Harry's trial but... should he find any misconduct," he continued and let his voice trail off.
"I will not stand for this!" one of the older Wizengamot members yelled in a reedy voice.
"Then sit for it," Evandro said in a commanding tone. He turned around and looked at Harry. "Do you submit yourself to the will and inquisitorial power invested in me by the International Confederation of Wizards?" he questioned.
It took Harry a moment to understand what the Arbiter was asking. "I do," he confirmed after noticing Dumbledore's pointed look at him. Mr. Ogata's eyebrow rose slightly as he looked Harry over.
"Take this, now," the Arbiter ordered and pushed a golden vial into Harry's hand.
Harry unstoppered the top and downed the concoction without hesitation. He blinked as a cool sensation flooded his mind and body. It felt like a wet blanket covered his mind as his vision unfocused a little.
"I have just given him three drops of Veritaserum in a Calming Draught," the Arbiter announced to the Wizengamot. He turned to Fudge and said something but Harry struggled to hear him. The feeling of floating in a sea of air made him giddy. It was almost like flying without a broom.
"Mr. Potter, did you cheat on your end-of-year exams?" Fudge's muffled voice asked from all around Harry.
"I did not," Harry answered the voice. He realized it was the Veritaserum that forced him to answer the question and nothing more.
"Do you harbor the Ministry any ill will," a familiar voice called out. He turned and blinked toward where Madam Bones sat. She was an indistinct blur.
Fudge said something and so did Evandro, but Harry couldn't focus on them. "No, I want the Ministry to leave me alone to learn magic," he answered. He felt like he was dreaming and fought against the sluggish, dreamlike feeling.
"Highly irregular," Fudge's growled over the noise of other voices.
"Have you ever created a spell of Dark Magic?" Evandro question in a hard tone.
Harry blinked and frowned. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts. "I created the Fireworks Spell in my first-year to one-up the twins," he said before continuing. "But, knowing what I know now, it could be changed to a cursed explosion because of the nature of the fire-based spell. Using intent and a Substantive Charm I could change the composition of the spell to burn specific substances or objects, such as someone's skin, clothes, or vital areas. However, the nature of the spell, and the entire spell itself, would be changed completely."
It took him a moment to realize the entire room was dead quiet after his answer. "You see! It is a Dark Charm!" Fudge cried.
"Not by the way it was created, but by the way it can be changed," Dumbledore's voice corrected from everywhere at once.
Harry struggled to follow the heated debate, his mind floating along invisible air currents. A strong hand grabbed his shoulder and helped him sit down in the chair he'd conjured before. He blinked, trying to figure out who'd helped him but his thoughts floated away.
"What are you teaching them at Hogwarts that Mr. Potter knows how to create dark spells!" Fudge's voice thundered, his words cutting through the fog in Harry's mind. "Not your professors? Then it must have been his mentor!"
"Harry, did Seitaro teach you how to augment spells to make them dark in nature?" Dumbledore questioned in a deep, troubled voice.
"No, Headmaster. Master Ogata showed us how to spot what is a dark spell by its properties as it relates to intent and application. Miranda Goshawk speaks of the dangers of spell creation and the importance of intent during casting in her coursebook Standard Book of Spells, Grade Seven. By following and understanding Vindictus Veridian's views of curses and counter-curses it is easy to see how changing simple spells, like the Freezing Spell, could be changed to target specific areas of the body to cause harm."
Once again, the room went silent before it erupted in furious voices. The fog around Harry's mind started to clear and he could make out snippets of the debate around him. Before he could rid himself of the dreamlike state he was in, Evandro questioned him. "Do you intend to create dark spells and charms?" he asked in a thick voice.
"No, they don't interest me," Harry answered in a monotone voice. "Master Ogata made it clear that creating and using dark spells requires the caster to wish permanent harm to their target."
"Are the effects of the potion wearing off?" Evandro questioned without missing a beat.
"I'm able to think a little more clearly," Harry answered with a nod.
"Impressive," the Arbiter mused. "How are you overcoming the effects?" he asked in his thick accent.
"I have limited sensation in my skin and the new burns give me something to focus on."
The Arbiter's eyes narrowed as he looked at Harry's robes. "How did you receive your burns?"
"I think, we are straying away from the topic," Dumbledore said in a low voice just as Harry was about to answer. His mouth moved but no sound came out. "It is unlawful to question a willing victim of the Veritaserum for personal information not pertaining to the case at hand."
Evandro nodded and took a step back. "I apologize for the intrusion, Mr. Potter. My curiosity got the better of me. Nothing you answered for the last two questions will be recorded. What was your plan if you were expelled from Hogwarts."
Harry answered without missing a beat, his mind clearer. He could tell the truth-potion was wearing off. "Leave the country and seek asylum in either America, Romania, or Japan."
"I'm only one of three, but Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry extends an invitation to Harry Potter to join our ranks if he so chooses," Thomas said into the silent room.
Harry blinked as a ray of light appeared in front of Thomas. The foreign wizard gasped as he watched a cat-like creature erupt from his chest. From Harry, two creatures appeared. One looked like a snake with a horn and the other a wide-winged bird. The three animals combined in mid-air to create a silver crest that floated in the air. "The offer has been extended," Dumbledore said in a low voice.
"How?" Thomas questioned, his eyes locked on Harry.
"Thaddeus... and Lydia," Harry answered, hating himself for saying her name in front of Thomas.
A pained expression crossed Thomas' face before he nodded. "She knew talent when she saw it," he said after a moment. "Then, I, Thomas Green, representative of Ilvermorny, extend an official invitation to join our school and come under our protection." He waved his hand and the Crest of Ilvermorny floated over to Harry before it dropped into his lap.
Fudge and many of the other Wizengamot members didn't like what Thomas said or did. They hurled insults and curses about Thomas, his school, and the audacity to try and steal their magical children. Harry found it amusing how all of a sudden he was wanted and appreciated by the fickle Ministry Officials. "I will keep it in mind," Harry answered truthfully. He saw Dumbledore breathe out.
"I have done my part, the rest is up to you," Thomas said after a moment. He turned and ignored the insults as if they didn't exist.
"Do you have more inquiries for Mr. Potter?" Evandro questioned the Minister.
Fudge paled as he stared around the room. "No, all charges against Mr. Potter will be dropped," he grated out a moment later. He glared at Dumbledore before cramming his green bowler cap on his head. "The Wizengamot is dismissed and I thank you for your time here today," he spat before trying to head toward the door.
"We still have things to discuss, Minister," Evandro said in a calm voice. "Mr. Potter, a full account will be lettered to you when our investigation is done. There will be repercussions for attacking an underage wizard," he promised with a glance at Harry's robes.
Harry waited while the assembled Ministry Officials left the room in a hurry. It was clear many of them were scared of the Arbiter. Professor McGonagall waited by her seat, her eyes focused on Harry. Dumbledore patted Harry on his shoulder before following Evandro, Thomas, and Mr. Ogata out of the room after Fudge and his entourage. The last wizard that came in with Dumbledore, a plain-looking wizard in dark robes and slicked-back hair, nodded to Harry before following after Dumbledore.
"I have never been prouder of a student," Professor McGonagall announced as she approached Harry. She gave him a strong hug that surprised him.
"Uh," Harry muttered as the professor let him go.
"We will return tomorrow for the second hearing, however, I think it will go considerably better than today did," Professor McGonagall said with a genuine smile.
Madam Bones, Augusta Longbottom, and a dark-haired, graying wizard in the robes of the Wizengamot stood outside the courtroom door. "I understand my Neville has a young witch that has caught his eye," Mrs. Longbottom greeted as she stared hard at Harry.
"If you mean Zoe, then she is his friend," Harry answered with a raised eyebrow.
"Last name, Stewart?" Mrs. Longbottom questioned in an imperious tone. "The same Stewart that gave him some trouble last year?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Among other things, yes," Harry answered with a small grin. "They are friends now."
Mrs. Longbottom's lips pursed as she eyed Harry. "You showed real backbone in there. It will be good to have someone with some sense on the Wizengamot in the future," she declared.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I have no interest in the inner workings of the Ministry. My seat, should I have children, will remain empty."
"A pity," the wizard said in a low voice. "My daughter... daughters, speak highly of you, Mr. Potter. My oldest wouldn't have gained the power she has without your assistance."
Harry eyed the smartly dressed wizard and mentally connected the dots. "Mr. Greengrass," he greeted.
"Osmund, if you don't mind," Mr. Greengrass said with a small smile. "Astoria is quite taken with you. I must say your... invention has captivated her attention like nothing I've ever seen."
Harry's face darkened as he stared hard at Osmund Greengrass. He knew the older wizard was talking about his flashcards. "Yes, quite the skillful use of charms. If you'd shown that in there, Fudge wouldn't have been able to say you cheated," Mrs. Longbottom supplied.
Madam Bones looked confused as she looked between the others. Professor McGonagall gave her a tight-lipped smile but didn't say anything. "Your secret is still safe, for now," Osmund said. "It is my job as a father to keep an eye on my children. Our house-elf is particularly adept at watching over them, except for when they are in your company. Your house-elf, Dobby, is far more loyal than any I've ever seen. It speaks of your strength of character as well as your mastery of magic."
"I haven't mastered anything, yet," Harry refuted with a shrug.
"I think most of us would disagree," Madam Bones interjected in a booming voice. "I am pleased to inform you that the inquiry you missed earlier has retracted their charge concerning your Apparition at the Burrow. Albus Dumbledore spoke on your behalf."
Harry nodded and breathed out. "Thank you," he said after a moment.
"Do not thank me yet," the stern witch said as she eyed Harry. "After your inquiry tomorrow, please make time to stop by my office. A mutual acquaintance still wants to question you about certain events," she hinted with pursed lips.
Harry looked over at Professor McGonagall who nodded to him. "I'll see what I can do," he said after a moment.
"Expect to see this room at least once more," Madam Bones said in a low voice. Mr. Greengrass and Mrs. Longbottom eyed Harry and Madam Bones. "If you stare at me like you did the Minister, I might have to tan your hide," she taunted before walking off.
Professor McGonagall snorted under her breath. "Mr. Potter, I think Mr. Weasley is waiting on us," she prompted.
"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Longbottom," Harry said and turned his attention to Mr. Greengrass. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell the world. I get enough trouble from your daughters as it is," he joked. The joke didn't amuse Mr. Greengrass.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Mr. Potter," Osmund growled. "If you dare hurt either of them," he threatened in a dark voice.
Harry felt his eyebrows climb as he looked in the older wizard's eyes. He thought he saw a spark of amusement but it could have been genuine anger as well. "I'll keep that in mind," Harry said in a quiet tone.
Mr. Weasley bounced on the balls of his feet as he looked Harry over. "No one said anything," he mumbled, his eyes roaming from Harry's scarred face to his robes.
"They didn't expel me," Harry announced. Mr. Weasley let out a deep breath and his hands shook.
"Thank Merlin," he muttered. "I mean, you didn't cheat. I knew you'd be fine," he babbled and wiped his hands on his robes. "Molly will want to know," he continued as he gave Harry a half-hug. "I'm so glad."
Harry tried not to laugh as Mr. Weasley muttered to himself. "Lily and James would have been proud," Professor McGonagall said as Mr. Weasley started for the stairs.
"They would have torn the place down, stone by stone," Mr. Weasley said with a smile. "I know they are proud of you, Harry."
"We'll be stopping by St. Mungos," Professor McGonagall announced. "I would like to get your arm looked at," she said and gave Harry a hard look. "I do not approve of you hurting yourself."
Harry tried not to grimace. "It was a stall for time and it isn't like I'll get any prettier," he joked.
The professor rounded on him and gave him a stern look. "You let yourself get burned," she hissed. "Why would you think that's a good idea?"
"What?" Mr. Weasley gasped as he turned around too.
"I didn't think it would be cursed fire," Harry admitted. "I can handle more burns anyway," he said with a shrug. "Professor, you know my entire body is covered in burn scars. What's another group of them?"
"That isn't the point," she hissed.
Harry listened with one ear as the professor berated him for not taking care of himself. A plump witch greeted them in the reception room of St. Mungos when Harry stepped out of the fireplace. She eyed Harry, her eyes flicking to the scar on his head, before turning to Professor McGonagall. "Albus said you would be coming," she said in a serious voice. "Follow me, please," she instructed and headed deeper into the complex.
Harry looked around as they passed rows of witches and wizards sitting on rickety wooden chairs. Some of the people waiting didn't appear to have injuries while others had strange symptoms. One young witch had half of her face missing while she read Witch Weekly with her good eye. Harry tried not to stare at the rosy patch of skin where her eye, ear, and part of her mouth should have been.
Witches and Wizards in lime-green robes were questing the people waiting, marking down their answers on pink clipboards. Harry noticed the crossed wand and bone emblem of St. Mungo's embroidered on their robes.
The plump witch led them through the hospital and up to the fourth floor where Harry had a room in the previous year. Harry tried not to glower as he was led into a room near the back of the fourth floor, long-term ward. Every door they passed had someone's name on it. The name on his door was Alastor Moody. Inside the room were one bed, two chairs, and a table with several potion-making tools resting on top of it. A polished crutch leaned against the off-white wall at the far end of the small room.
"You have some serious burns," a kindly healer said as she swept into the room. She had on white robes and a short, off-white hat. Her bright blue eyes stared at Harry. "When did you receive them?" she questioned as she opened the folder on her clipboard. She froze and looked between the top page and Harry, her eyes flicking to his forehead.
"I got most of the burns during my first year at Hogwarts," Harry said in an even voice. "These burns," he said, gesturing to his arm," were caused by the Ministry earlier today. Cursed fire."
The healer blinked at Harry and drew a long, ornate mahogany wand and strode over to Harry. "Cursed fire... at the Ministry?" she questioned in a soft voice.
"Yes," Harry reported and reeled back as a powerful whiff of lavender and lemon assaulted his nose.
"Sorry, I was brewing a potion before they called me in," the healer apologized and used her wand to remove Harry's sleeve. She blinked and froze before looking between Harry and his charred arm.
Harry hadn't wanted to look at his arm while the mediwitch tried to heal it earlier. He felt a little sick to see the raised, blackened patch of skin over his left forearm near his elbow. "Well, at least it didn't reach my hand or my elbow," he said in a conversational tone.
The healer's face darkened as she poked her wand toward his burn. "You said this happened at the Ministry?" she questioned.
"While I was in a hearing about whether or not I was cheating," Harry answered with a laugh.
"That was today?" the healer questioned, her eyebrows rising. "What day is it?" she muttered.
Harry didn't know how he felt by the healer's bedside manner. "So, am I going to lose my arm, doc?" he joked.
"Rosie, not doc," the healer grumbled. "Muggle-born, so I can appreciate your humor, Mr. Potter," she answered and eyed him. "Professor, it's good to see you."
"Ms. Light," Professor McGonagall said with a smile. "Poppy misses your company."
"I still write to her," Rosie complained and eyed Harry's arm. "You've been burned by cursed fire... multiple times it seems," she announced. "I can't do a lot for you about restoring your skin to how it was but I can help the pain... if you have any," she continued with a frown. "You have limited feeling... across your entire body," she reported in a low voice. "Almost none," she whispered to herself.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Having fun?" he questioned with a laugh. "Your magic feels odd," he commented. Everyone stared at Harry. "What?"
"You feel my magic?" Rosie questioned and looked Harry in the eyes.
"I feel a foreign magic in my body, yes," he answered with a small shrug.
"I'm jealous," Rosie muttered. "It took me four years to even notice when Madam Pomfrey was using magic on me. It's the first step to becoming a proficient healer. If you can feel another's magic, you can find the source of many curses and magical maladies."
"Just lose most of your sense of touch. It's easy then," he said with a snort.
Rosie blinked and looked at Harry. "That actually makes sense. Many people, myself included, follow foreign magic in our bodies like a strange coolness or a strange heat source. I'd imagine it really stands to out you," she said after a moment.
Harry gave a noncommital grunt. The healer seemed to understand his unwillingness to speak further and returned to her task of looking over his burns. "If I had to guess, the caster might have used a Searing Spell or Incineration Curse. Both spells are pretty commonly used by dark wizards. You used a Water-Making Charm to extinguish the flames but the spell continued to burn under your skin," she informed him with a frown.
Professor McGonagall gasped and Mr. Weasley grimaced. "You didn't feel it?" the professor asked in a low voice.
"It hurt, sure," Harry said with a shrug.
Rosie blinked at him and frowned. "Harry," she said in a low, cautious voice. "How much can you really feel of your body?"
Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at the healer. "Enough," he said in what he hoped was an even voice.
Rosie stared him in the eyes before nodding. "The healer who worked on you did a fine job. A little rougher than Madam Pomfrey would have done, but they did well enough," she commented with a frown.
Harry noted the troubled look in the healer's eyes and wondered if he should ask. He decided he wouldn't. "Am I free to head back to Hogwarts?" he asked.
"Yes, unless you'd like me to do a thorough check of your body?" Rosie asked.
Harry couldn't help it as he flinched away from the healer. "I'm good, thank you," he managed to get out and hopped off the bed.
"If you want, go see Madam Pomfrey and tell her Rosie Light said you'd be good at healing if you ever want to learn more about the subject," the healer said as he started to leave the room.
Harry stopped and nodded his head. "Thank you, for looking me over," he called as he left the room in a hurry.