The next few days were spent cleaning the house and researching with Sirius and Remus in the library. The books that the Black family had on soul magic were a class of their own. Some of them were so dark, Harry could feel the grimy abrasiveness of black magic on their covers. Others talked about soulmates and destiny and soul-bonding, which were topics not particularly helpful to the research of soul splitting.
In between the research and cleaning, Harry worried about Voldemort. He could not gauge Voldemort's emotions since he no longer had a piece of his soul in his head, so he was unsure if his emotions were different from before. He worried incessantly that the Dark Lord had regained his horcrux and would be even more difficult to kill now. Harry spent every day with a ball of dread permanently in his stomach. The rest of the household believed his anxious features and jumpy tendencies to be side effects of the upcoming hearing, and Harry let them think what they wanted. How could he ever explain the terror he felt at a more competent Tom Riddle?
During dinner on Wednesday, Mrs. Weasley told him she had ironed his best clothes for tomorrow, just like last time. However, this time Harry did not appreciate it as much.
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley, but I am actually going to use some of Regulus's old robes tomorrow," he said, politely, glancing up from his plate.
The red-haired woman looked shocked, "But Harry, wouldn't you feel better wearing your own clothes? You've never worn wizard clothes before."
Harry stamped down the irritation that bubbled up in him when she tried to sway him, "I would not want to further offend the wizards who are in charge of determining whether I broke the Statute of Secrecy by wearing muggle clothing. I have to make a good impression in whatever way I can since the Daily Prophet is trying to drag the Potter name through the mud."
Sirius and Remus were looking at Harry now with raised eyebrows. They exchanged a look between the two of them and had a whole conversation without speaking. Rather like the twins, Harry thought.
"That's a good idea, pup," Sirius said, turning back to him, "those stuffy old witches and wizards will be more receptive if you wear robes. I'll help you pick some out after dinner."
Harry smiled at his godfather, warmth curling through his body when he defended him to Mrs. Weasley, "Thanks Padfoot."
Mrs. Weasley huffed but thankfully let the subject go for the rest of dinner. After everyone was done eating, Harry followed Sirius and Remus upstairs to Regulus's room. When they got there, Remus sat on the desk chair and Sirius bounded over to the wardrobe.
"Alright, so. You want to look like a nice young wizard who is definitely not insane at all – don't laugh, Moony! – but not like they can walk all over you. Now, Regulus wore a lot of black and dark blues and greens. The dark blues are quite popular for my family since it is supposed to represent the night sky and our star names and all that rubbish. The Potters don't really have official colors but those that have been on the Wizengamot or who hold important Ministry positions tend towards dark reds and blacks. You don't need to wear full robes, though," said Sirius, still digging through the closet.
Remus jumped in when Sirius trailed off, "Wizards are slower to have fashion changes than Muggles, so formal business wear is still rather similar to the late 1800s or early 1900s in the muggle world. What you really need is a black frock coat – maybe grey waistcoat and pants? You don't want to stand out too much and you want to look serious."
"Hello, did you call my name?" Sirius asked, ducking his head out behind the doors of the wardrobe.
Remus rolled his eyes fondly and Harry wondered how he never knew they were a couple before. "Thank you Padfoot that joke was so new and unique – now, maybe a dark red bow tie too?"
Sirius grumbled but went back to digging – did that closet have an undetectable extension charm on it? – finally coming up with items that matched Moony's descriptions. "Here, try these on," he said, piling each garment into Harrys' open arms and staring at him expectantly.
"Wha – now? While you're here?" Harry stuttered out, feeling the tips of his ears turn a bit pink.
Remus rolled his eyes at his partner and dragged him out of the room, "We'll be right outside, Harry, call us when you have everything on."
Once his honorary uncles had left the room, Harry set his new outfit down on the bed. He dressed himself in the borrowed clothing, adding in a white oxford shirt from his own collection. His fingers fumbled with the bow tie for a bit – it had been a year since Bill and Fleur's wedding, and he hadn't had much opportunity to dress up on his camping trip from hell – but he managed to make a passable bow.
"You can come in now," he called out. The two marauders came back into the room, both of them freezing when they saw him.
"What, does it not look okay?" Harry asked worriedly.
The werewolf cleared his throat and walked further into the room, a stunned Sirius trailing behind him. "No, Harry, you just look so grown up." Remus's eyes were suspiciously wet as he reached out to fix the bow tie at Harry's neck. Harry felt himself flush a bit and darted his eyes embarrassedly around the room before his gaze landed on Sirius.
"You remind me of my brother, actually, sorry pup, I was just a little thrown. But Moony is right, your parents would have been in tears over how adult you look now."
Harry's smile was a bit wobbly after that statement, but he managed to say a hoarse, "Thanks, Sirius."
After their emotional moment, Sirius and Remus used a few tailoring spells to make sure the clothing fit him. After they left, Harry took the garments off before laying down on his bed. Even though he knew he had been acquitted last time, he couldn't help but worry that he would inadvertently cause his own expulsion the next day. He finally fell asleep late at night, only to be awakened very early by Mrs. Weasley telling him to get up and get ready.
Harry dragged himself out of the comfortable cocoon of blankets and performed his morning ablutions. He dressed in his proper young wizard outfit before going down to the kitchen to eat something beforehand. The Weasley parents were sitting at the table with Remus, Sirius, and Tonks and all of them looked up when they walked in. Tonks actually whistled.
"Wotcher, Harry! Don't you look dapper," she said with a wink.
Harry laughed, some of the tension uncurling from his stomach at her lighthearted attitude. "Morning, Tonks," he said as he slid into a seat across from her. The Weasley matriarch plied him with toast and marmalade which he dutifully ate. He let Mrs. Weasley try to flatten his hair, though he knew it would not cooperate.
The rest of the next hour or so went rather the same as before – Harry and Mr. Weasley walked to the train and rode towards the visitor's entrance of the Ministry. Harry couldn't think of a reason to go directly down to the courtroom, so he let himself be ushered to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. He waited until Perkins came running in again, stuttering about a change in location and time for the hearing. Harry and Arthur then made a mad dash for the lifts and made their way down to the Department of Mysteries.
When the lifts dinged on that floor, Mr. Weasley had to drag Harry towards the court rooms because Harry had frozen in the lift openings. His breath had caught in his throat at the sight of the black door at the end of the hallway. He let the red-haired man guide him towards his hearing as he struggled to get his panic under control. Finally, they got to the courtroom and Mr. Weasley nudged him towards the doors. Harry took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The benches rose up before him, made to intimidate criminals with their height and their presence against dark stone walls. Harry squared his shoulders and tried to find a balance between Lucius-Malfoy-arrogance and Albus-Dumbledore-benevolence as he glided as smoothly as he could towards the chained chair in the middle of the room. He was tempted to conjure his own chair like Dumbledore had before, but it did not seem like an appropriate move during a trial for underage sorcery.
Fudge's loud voice boomed in the courtroom, "You're late," he said with all the presence of a croaking bullfrog.
"I apologize," Harry said calmly, "I was not notified there would be a time and location change for my hearing."
"That is not the Wizengamot's fault," said the Minister. "An owl was sent to you this morning. Take your seat."
"Well, by happy coincidence, I was already present three hours early," Harry said with a little smile on his lips. He looked at the witches and wizards above him, about fifty of them in all in their plum colored Wizengamot robes. Harry wondered idly if Tonks was a member how she would match her hair to the robes.
In the middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, looking every inch the pompous nitwit that he was. Harry tried not to let his face twitch into an uncharacteristically condescending sneer at him. He inclined his head politely to Amelia Bones on the Minister's left, who returned the gesture.
"Very well," said Fudge. "The accused being present — finally — let us begin. Are you ready?" he called down the row.
"Yes, sir," said Percy Weasley. He gave off the vague impression of Hermione in her first potions class. All trembling excitement like a new puppy.
"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," said Fudge, "into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. "Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley —"
"— Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," said a voice behind Harry. The boy-who-lived closed his eyes briefly in annoyance. He was so thankful last time for Dumbledore's help and guidance, but it may have done more harm than good – the Headmaster had just been removed as Chief Warlock and was not held in high esteem in this governing body. The witches and wizards muttered among themselves at Dumbledore's entrance. He came to a stop next to Harry and held his hands behind his back serenely as he surveyed Fudge. The two men had the same exchange as last time, resulting in the Headmaster conjuring his squashy armchair.
"Yes," Fudge blustered. "Well, then. So. The charges. Yes." He extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read, "The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy.
"You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?"
"Yes."
"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?"
"No."
"And yet yo-," Fudge paused in his questioning and glared at Harry over the top of his papers, "you didn't receive a warning? Don't lie boy."
"Yes, I received a warning, however it was erroneous. I did not perform magic then," Harry replied, "it was a house-elf."
"A house-elf!" exclaimed Fudge, "how convenient! Why would there be one of those in a muggle house?"
"He had come to visit me, sir," Harry said politely, still with his small smile, "I can call him here if you'd like."
"That's not – we don't have time for house-elves! We're talking about your breach of the Statute of Secrecy!" Fudge all but yelled.
"Of course, Minister," Harry said agreeably, "I'm sure the first warning was just an administrative mistake."
"You conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?" said Fudge, trying to move on.
"Yes."
"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?"
"Yes."
"Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?"
"Yes."
"Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?
"My muggle cousin who has known about magic for several years now, yes," said Harry politely.
And just like last time, Amelia Bones questioned him on his corporeal patronus which he happily chatted about with her, seeing Fudge getting more and more red out of the corner of his eye.
"It's not a question of how impressive the magic was," he said, "In fact, the more impressive the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the boy did it in plain view of a Muggle!"
"Well yes, normally, I would never break the law like that Minister, but there were dementors you see, and I did not want to be Kissed with my muggle cousin," Harry interjected.
Again, Fudge blustered about, and Arabella Figg was called and questioned. Harry let it happen the same as before, seeing as the Wizengamot believed him the first time.
Harry tuned back in when Dumbledore spoke, "Oh, I don't think any of us believe the dementors were there by coincidence."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" asked Fudge, as red faced as an angry Uncle Vernon.
"It means that I think they were ordered there," said Dumbledore.
"I think we might have a record of it if someone had ordered a pair of dementors to go strolling through Little Whinging!" barked Fudge.
Harry interrupted again before Dumbledore could hint at Voldemort and lose their credibility again, "Of course, Minister, that's why I'm sure you will be doing a full investigation into these events." Harry finished his sentence with a little sanctimonious nod. This interjection had the effect of stopping Umbridge from interceding and inflicting them all with her terrible voice.
"We are here to examine Harry Potter's offenses under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery!" yelled Fudge.
"Of course, we are," said Dumbledore, "but the presence of dementors in that alleyway is highly relevant. Clause seven of the Decree states that magic may be used before Muggles in exceptional circumstances, and as those exceptional circumstances include situations that threaten the life of the wizard or witch himself, or witches, wizards, or Muggles present at the time of the —"
"We are familiar with clause seven, thank you very much!" snarled Fudge.
The rest of the trial continued as before (minus more questioning about Dobby) and Harry was eventually acquitted of all charges. As Harry stood from his criminal chair, he made eye contact with Madam Bones who nodded at him and made her way across the court room. Harry steadied himself and braced himself for his next political endeavor. Fighting a war didn't prepare me for this, he thought.