"I told you so!"
"Yeah, we know you did…"
"And you didn't believe me!"
"It's not that we didn't believe you, mate—"
"Come off it, you didn't listen for a second!"
"Alright, maybe we didn't, are you happy? That what you want to hear?"
It was what Harry wanted to hear, in fact, though it didn't make him particularly happy. He paced back and forth in the living room of Grimmauld Place, as Ron, Neville and Hermione looked on warily (the latter contained within the two-way mirror in Ron's hand). He'd rushed home from the Gringotts meeting, unable to contain his excitement at the Dawlish revelation, and he couldn't believe the other three weren't reacting as strongly as he had.
"What did Kingsley have to say about it?" Hermione asked through the mirror.
"Not much," Harry grumbled. "Didn't seem to understand why I was so worked up about it."
"Maybe he has a point, though," said Ron. "Maybe it's not that big of a deal. We still don't know what this scepter is—"
"Kingsley doesn't know about the Horcruxes!" Harry retorted. "We know it went missing while Tom Riddle was at Hogwarts, we know Dawlish stole the scepter during or after the Battle of Hogwarts, we know he tried to give it to Ginny, who was already possessed by Voldemort once before—"
"Yes, we know your theory Harry," Hermione said curtly. "That doesn't mean it's the only explanation."
"I don't hear any of your theories!" said Harry. "And none of those theories are as dangerous as mine, so why are you fighting so hard against it?"
"We aren't fighting it, mate, just keeping our options open," said Ron calmly. "And it's not like there's much we can do about it right now, is there?"
Harry swallowed his next retort, frustration building. They'd had this argument a half-dozen times already, and it never went anywhere productive. How could they not see the significance of this discovery? To Harry, it was confirmation of everything he feared. Dawlish was involved with the scepter. He was researching his history. And sooner or later he'd figure out the truth about it, and if it was what Harry feared, it could mean the return of Voldemort. The stakes couldn't be higher!
Ron had a point, though: there was little to be done on the matter, even if Harry's hunch was correct. They had no idea where Dawlish was or what he was doing. At this moment he could be anywhere in the world, and an Auror as skilled as him would know how to travel without being detected. If Harry, Ron and Hermione were able to evade the entire Ministry plus Voldemort for half a year, he didn't see how a grown wizard could be found when only four teenagers really cared about his whereabouts.
Harry considered going to Rita Skeeter to raise more awareness on the matter, but he knew Robards was right that the Aurors needed to display loyalty and unity during the trials. Kingsley wouldn't appreciate the distraction either: the success of the trials would be paramount for his re-election campaign in a few short months. He could try to convince Robards to launch a stealth campaign to track Dawlish down, but that wouldn't go over well, and it would likely force Harry to tell more people about Horcruxes to convince them of the mission's importance. This was a job for the Junior Aurors alone – and if Ron and Neville weren't on board, that meant it was a job for Harry.
Harry obsessively pored over the Prophet every morning, looking for Rita Skeeter's name, hoping for any new shred of information about Dawlish. A sighting in some remote village. A new tidbit of knowledge about his background. He hated to admit it, but Skeeter was his only ally in this fight right now. She wouldn't care about Auror unity or Kingsley's reelection – in fact, anything that hurt either of those two concepts would be a goldmine to her. In spite of himself, Harry found he was rooting for her to unearth something new and scandalous about Dawlish to get people talking again.
But nothing materialized in the coming weeks. The Prophet was far too consumed in the upcoming Nurmengard Trials, which was all anyone in the wizarding world seemed to be talking about. And for good reason: people had suffered under the cruel thumb of Voldemort's supporters for a year, and many had lost loved ones in the process. There was a great deal of pent-up anger that needed to be released, grievances to be aired. Harry read account after account of some of the horrendous deeds committed by various Death Eaters during the war, and his blood boiled hearing about some of the atrocities he hadn't been aware of while on the run. This was a much-needed reckoning for the community.
The first trial was set for the last Monday in January, and it was a big one: Yaxley, perhaps the most senior of the living Death Eaters active in the Ministry during Voldemort's reign. Harry, Ron and Neville arrived early and took the lift down to Level Ten, each wearing matching black robes and sporting the official Auror patch on their breast. Harry gaped in awe at the courtroom as he entered; it was identical to the set-up he'd seen in Dumbledore's Pensieve for the original Death Eater Trials, but the room had been magically expanded to accommodate more people at the high benches surrounding the caged interior.
Harry located Robards in the crowd, seated just to the right of the Minister and his support staff, and he led the way to their seats. He glanced around the room; the Wizengamot members were easy enough to distinguish with their bright purple robes and tall hats, as were the reporters, due in large part to the outlandish neon pantsuit of Rita Skeeter sitting in the front row. There were a smattering of other onlookers and Ministry workers; Harry recognized Reginald and Mary Cattermole sitting quietly across the room, feeling relieved that they had survived the war after all thanks to his help. And unmistakable in the crowd were the thirteen goblins of the Confederation, seated near the back of the room, heads bowed together in quiet discussion.
At nine o' clock on the dot, Kingsley Shacklebolt banged his gavel on the table before him and the room fell eerily silent. "I, acting Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, do hereby call the Nurmengard Trials to order," he said in a deep booming voice. The only other sound was the faint scratching of quills from the reporters' box. "We will commence the proceedings with the case of Corban Yaxley. Please summon the accused."
There was a faint grinding noise from underneath the courtroom, and up emerged Yaxley, chained to a wooden chair, until he was completely encased within the metal cage at the center of the room. Yaxley sat perfectly still, looking up impassively at Kingsley, face unreadable.
"Corban J. Yaxley," Kingsley said, now reading from a scroll of parchment, "you have been accused of a variety of crimes, including twenty-seven instances of the Killing Curse, primarily against Muggle-borns, seventy-three instances of the Imperius Curse, forty-six instances of the Cruciatus Curse, conspiracy with the dark wizard Voldemort, and a dozen other lesser charges. How do you plead?"
Yaxley said nothing. He only continued to stare blankly up at Kingsley, though his eyes narrowed slightly, perhaps in defiance or disgust.
"If no plea is given, the court will presume a plea of guilty has been expressed," Kingsley sighed. "The accused withholds the right to change this plea until such time that deliberations—"
"Come now, Shacklebolt, why the theatrics?" There was surprise in the room at the interruption. A grin had broken out across Yaxley's face, and he sneered up at the Minister. "After all we've been though, you and I?" he continued. "The battles we've had back and forth over the years? Why can't we just settle this like men and let the fates decide?"
"You've cast your last Unforgivable Curse, Yaxley," said Kingsley coolly. "The wizarding community will decide your fate now."
"This lot?" said Yaxley, gesturing around at the room and giving a mirthless laugh. "This is a kangaroo court. My guilt was decided months ago! There is no justice here."
"Your actions during the war are already public knowledge, there is no denying that," Kingsley said. "But make no mistake: justice is what we are here to dispense, whether you like the outcome or not." A smattering of applause met this statement from the gathered crowd, and Harry could see the reporters furiously scribbling this last quote down. All except for Rita Skeeter, of course, who sat idly flattening the folds of her pantsuit while her Quick-Quotes Quill happily scratched away.
Yaxley continued to make snide remarks throughout the proceedings, but to his credit, Kingsley ignored most of them. One of the Minister's aides read a list of the dozens of people Yaxley had allegedly murdered, tortured, or controlled over the past three years since his escape from Azkaban. Then a list of witnesses was called to give testimony on the suffering they faced at Yaxley's hands. A Silencing Charm had to be placed on Yaxley because he was repeatedly mocking and berating these witnesses as they timidly shared their stories.
Harry was shocked at the blatant disrespect of the court Yaxley was displaying, the clear lack of remorse. But then again, he had a point: this may not be a kangaroo court per se, but the evidence against people like him was so overwhelming that it didn't really matter what he said or did. He would undoubtedly face life in Nurmengard no matter if he was on his best behavior or not. But it was no less chilling to sit there and watch him laugh in the face of misery, as witness after witness told their horror stories of Yaxley slaughtering their families, torturing them for fun, using fear tactics to dictate their lives. Harry knew Yaxley was a monster, but the stories he heard only reinforced his desire to see the man locked away forever.
Once the final witness had spoken, Kingsley gave his final remarks before the vote. "For the aforementioned crimes, this court is seeking a life sentence in Nurmengard Prison. Before a vote is called, the accused is granted an opportunity to make a statement in his or her defense. Would you like to do so?"
"Thought you'd never ask," Yaxley growled. And he launched into a lengthy tirade against the sham court proceedings, which he pinned on "vengeful Mudbloods and blood traitors" among other slurs Harry had never heard before. Yaxley continued to espouse the merits of Magic is Might and wizarding supremacy, and the Wizengamot squirmed uncomfortably in their seats. If there was ever a doubt about his sentencing, it disappeared with his closing statements, which in Harry's mind sealed his fate more than any of the prior testimony had.
"That will be quite enough, thank you," Kingsley said impassively after allowing Yaxley to rant for several minutes. He waved his wand, and Yaxley again fell silent, though his mouth continued flapping away, spewing verbal abuse at everyone around him. "The court will now vote on the guilt of Corban Yaxley. All those in favor of a life sentence in Nurmengard, without possibility of parole, please raise your hand."
Nearly every hand among the purple-robed Wizengamot rose into the air. Harry also noticed that the thirteen goblins each had their hands raised, all glaring down upon Yaxley with contempt. "And all those opposed?" asked Kingsley. All hands dropped at once; Harry glanced around the room and could not see a dissenting vote among them. "It is decided then," said Kingsley. "Corban Yaxley, you are hereby sentenced to imprisonment in Nurmengard until the end of your natural life. The Wizengamot has spoken." He banged his gavel, and Yaxley retracted back beneath the ground, sneering all the way.
As soon as he disappeared from view, the gathered crowd began whispering amongst one another, discussing the case. "Good riddance," muttered Robards to Harry's left. "Really showed that he never saw the error of his ways, did he?"
"Are all the Death Eaters going to be like that, d'you reckon?" Harry asked him.
"Some will," Robards shrugged. "Yaxley knew that we had far too much proof against him. Others will put up more of a fight, I'm sure. I hear Lucius Malfoy has been throwing out names left and right, trying to buy his freedom. Might have worked eighteen years ago, but it's unlikely to fool people again."
"That will be an interesting case for sure," Savage remarked. "Rumor has it none of the Malfoys produced wands for inspection, so there's no concrete proof against them. But concealing their wands will only look worse to the court, I reckon." Harry again felt a pang of guilt at this; he was one of the few people alive who knew what had happened to the Malfoys' wands. Lucius' wand had been destroyed at Harry's own hand during the pursuit from Privet Drive two summers ago, and Draco's wand was at Grimmauld Place, now answering to Harry.
The rest of the week played out very similarly to the Yaxley case. The Wizengamot heard the cases of Antonin Dolohov, Fenrir Greyback, Augustus Rookwood, and Amycus and Alecto Carrow. They all took the same defiant attitude as Yaxley, showing zero remorse for their actions and espousing their continued loyalty to Voldemort's cause. Witnesses dutifully gave their testimonies regardless – Bill Weasley took the stand against Greyback along with dozens more of his half-werewolf victims, and Neville gave an impassioned account of his final year at Hogwarts under the cruel thumb of the Carrows. The latter seemed to truly sway the Wizengamot, who previously seemed ambivalent about the dubious charges against them. The detailed descriptions of torture and abuse against students, many of whom had parents on the court, created a palpable sense of shock and outrage in the room, and they too were given life sentences without reprieve.
"Hey, you lot," Robards addressed the three Junior Aurors as the crowd stood to disperse after the last case of the week. "We're headed to the Leaky Cauldron for drinks. Come join us."
"Thanks, but I don't think so," Harry said, rubbing his temple. He felt drained by the proceedings, and a sense of dull detachment permeated his mind. He had expected the trials to feel more cathartic, to experience a sense of righteous justice at seeing these awful people get put away for good. But to see that none of them regretted their actions, that they would never know the same pain that they caused countless others, just made Harry sick to his stomach. All he wanted was to curl up in his bed for the weekend to recover for the next wave of trials, and Ron and Neville looked to be of a similar mind.
"It's not a request," Robards said. "Nasty business these trials are, and it's important to celebrate these victories, even if they don't feel like them at the time."
"Alright, fine," Harry sighed. So he, Ron and Neville followed the other Aurors up to the Atrium, where they took the fireplaces out to the streets of London and walked a few blocks down the road to the Leaky Cauldron. Tom the barman greeted them enthusiastically, as did a number of other bar-goers, who made room for the Aurors to take up the length of the bar. Harry had never actually stopped for a drink in the Leaky Cauldron; he'd passed through many times on his way to Diagon Alley, and he'd once spent a few nights in an upstairs room prior to his third year. But the other Aurors were treated like royalty; Tom was already lining up glasses and uncorking a fresh bottle of Firewhiskey for them.
"Another rough day?" Tom asked Robards as he began to fill the glasses. "Been following the trials in the Prophet. Sounds like they ain't going down quietly."
"They can mouth off all they want, they're all going down one way or another," Robards chuckled as he took a full glass and downed it in one smooth gulp.
"Hear hear," said Savage, also throwing back his own glass with a mighty shake of his head.
"Longbottom here was a killer on the stand today," Robards said, throwing a magnanimous arm over Neville's shoulder. "Put those Carrows in the dirt with his testimony. Very brave, my boy, very brave."
"Thanks," Neville muttered, taking a tentative sip of his Firewhiskey and suppressing a cough. "I thought it would feel better, giving them a piece of my mind after all those months of torment. But I just felt empty afterwards."
"I'll let you in on a little secret, kid," said Robards, still clutching Neville tight as he brought a second glass of Firewhiskey to his lips. "Ain't nothing satisfying about justice. It's cold, it's anticlimactic, and it's boring as hell. And I'll tell you from experience, the alternative of killing them personally is no better. At least this way you know they'll suffer a lifetime of solitude for their crimes. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can find peace in the outcome."
Neville nodded sullenly at this. Harry suspected he knew what Neville was thinking...he had confided in Harry and Ron once that he wished he'd been the one to kill Bellatrix Lestrange during the Battle of Hogwarts as revenge for his parents. But Bellatrix was long gone now, unable to stand trial for her crimes, to sit with her guilt for whatever decades she had left. At least the Carrows had to rot in Nurmengard now, with the knowledge that Neville was the one to put them there eating away at them as they awaited their inevitable deaths. Was that truly a better outcome? On paper perhaps, but Harry knew from the expression on Neville's face that it wasn't such a simple matter emotionally.
The Aurors spent the next few hours drinking heavily, laughing and sharing stories unrelated to the Nurmengard Trials. Harry had to admit that he did feel better by the end of the night; there was something comforting about just having fun, singing silly songs and laughing with comrades to wash away the bad taste of the week's events. The alternative would have been going home and wallowing in the misery, which would have done him no favors. Harry needed help Apparating home that night; he'd never tried it before with so much Firewhiskey running through his veins, but he had to imagine the chances of Splinching himself were much higher now. He crawled into bed feeling warm and content, something he never thought he'd feel after such a strenuous week.
Robards was right about something else, too: the following week's trials looked quite a bit different than the last. Ron flinched when the first prisoner of the day emerged, and it took Harry a moment to realize why: it was Albert Runcorn, the man Harry had impersonated when they infiltrated the Ministry a year and a half ago. And Harry knew immediately that this trial would be unlike the others: Runcorn looked fearfully around the room, not defiant as his predecessors had been, but truly unsure of his fate.
"Albert P. Runcorn," said Kingsley once the crowd noise had dissipated. "you have been charged with a variety of crimes, including the roundup and imprisonment of hundreds of Muggle-born witches and wizards, the misuse of your office to intimidate and manipulate others, conspiracy with the Dark wizard Voldemort, and several lesser charges. How do you plead?"
"Not guilty," said Runcorn, and Harry was surprised by how soft and shaky his voice sounded. He was an imposing figure, but right now he looked cowed and frightened by the hundreds of eyes staring coldly down upon him.
"Very well," said Kingsley. "Your charges will be considered individually by the court. We will now proceed with witness testimonies."
Witness after witness took the stand, including the Cattermoles, who testified to Runcorn's awful treatment of non-purebloods during the war. Once the final witness had been heard, Kingsley picked up his scroll of parchment again and cleared his throat. "For the charges against you, Runcorn, the court is seeking a minimum of ten years at Nurmengard per charge against you. Before a vote is called, the accused is granted an opportunity to make a statement in his or her defense. Would you like to do so?"
"Yes," said Runcorn, and he reached a shaky hand into his coat pocket for a small sheet of paper from which he read. "I regret my actions over the past year at the Ministry. I disagreed with the racist practices of the new administration, but I went along with them to advance my position and protect my family. I was never aware that the Dark Lord was behind it all, and I am horrified to be considered a co-conspirator of his. I ask for the court's mercy and promise to never abuse my office again."
"Very well," said Kingsley. "The court will now vote on the three primary charges against Mr. Runcorn. For the charge of willingly rounding up and imprisoning Muggle-borns, all those in favor of conviction?"
Hands shot up into the air, though it was not unanimous. A few Wizengamot members sullenly remained still, looking down at Runcorn with something Harry imagined was compassion. The thirteen goblins also sat resolutely quiet – Harry figured that they had no reason to convict since Runcorn had never been involved in crimes against goblins.
"For the charge of misuse of office to intimidate and manipulate others," Kingsley continued, "all those in favor of conviction?"
Once again hands shot up into the air, but fewer than before. It still appeared to be a majority, but only just barely. Kingsley did a quick glance around the room to confirm this before going on.
"And for the charge of conspiracy with the Dark wizard Voldemort, all those in favor of conviction?"
Only a smattering of hands went up. Harry saw a few members of the Wizengamot begin to raise their arms, only to look nervously around at the lack of hands around them and lower them again. Kingsley looked almost disappointed at the lack of majority, but he quickly cleared his throat and continued.
"Albert P. Runcorn," he said, "you have been found guilty of two of the three major charges against you. The court sentences you to twenty years in Nurmengard, effective immediately." He banged his gavel, and Runcorn retracted back below the ground, a single tear running down his cheek.
The room burst out in discussion at once, far more animated than the previous week's cases. "Very interesting," Robards remarked aloud. "Court's in a more forgiving mood than I thought they might be. Bloke deserved life in the joint if you asked me." Harry somehow felt worse about this outcome than he had about the confirmed Death Eaters. Twenty years was harsh but fair, he felt, and Runcorn certainly wasn't getting off easy for his crimes. But did he really believe in what he was doing, or did he only go along with it to appease the powers that be? Harry thought he knew the answer to that, but he was less sure now.
This feeling persisted as the next few cases progressed later that week. Multiple high-ranked Ministry officials were tried, each with similar charges as Runcorn. The trend was the same: each was charged with crimes against Muggle-borns, but few had the conspiracy with Voldemort charge stick. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about this...wasn't it blatantly obvious that Voldemort was the one pulling the strings during Thicknesse's reign? But then again, did it matter? Wouldn't Ministry workers have continued working anyway, in need of the money and protection for their families? Harry could see now what Kingsley meant by the difficult decisions people had to make during the war, and in a sense, Harry had it lucky being on the run.
Next, Lucius Malfoy appeared in the cage, and Harry felt a cold chill run down his spine. "Lucius A. Malfoy," read Kingsley, "you have been charged with conspiracy with the Dark wizard Voldemort, misuse of office to intimidate and manipulate others, and a variety of lesser charges. How do you plead?"
"Not guilty," said Lucius coolly, and Harry's blood boiled. The gall! How could he dare to deny what he had done? When he was quite possibly the public face of Voldemort's extended arm of terror? He sat forward intently, wanting to hear how Lucius planned to worm his way out of this.
"Before this trial begins," Kingsley said, shuffling his papers, "I feel compelled to share several pieces of information with this court. The first is that Mr. Malfoy did not present a wand for analysis, so we could not determine the usage of any Unforgivable Curses."
"My wand was stolen from me by the Dark Lord," Lucius explained. "It was later destroyed. I was without it for over a year."
"A likely story," said Kingsley impassively. "Let the record also show that Mr. Malfoy claimed to be under the Imperius Curse during Voldemort's first reign, and yet, was one of the first to rejoin his side when he returned."
"Out of fear for my family!" Lucius protested, but Kingsley pressed on.
"However…" the Minister pressed on. "This court also ought to know that Mr. Malfoy defected from Voldemort's ranks prior to the end of the war, and has been open in sharing information with the Ministry to aid us in capturing a number of Death Eaters, including last November's raid in Newcastle."
Harry's heart sank. So this was Malfoy's plan...to throw everyone else under the bus to save his own hide, just as he had the first time. And he might just get away with it, too...or would the Wizengamot see through the obvious ploy and not give him the same benefit of the doubt as before? He listened as scores of witnesses gave testimony. Sturgis Podmore attested to being under Lucius' Imperius Curse when he attempted to break into the Department of Mysteries; several Ministry officials attested to Lucius' bully tactics during Fudge and Thicknesse's tenures, and a former Snatcher, whom Harry recognized from his capture, testified that he had delivered high-profile escapees to Malfoy Manor under Lucius' watch.
Eventually Kingsley called the court back to order. "Given Mr. Malfoy's efforts to help the Ministry in recent months," he said, "the court has reduced the proposed sentence to seven years at Nurmengard per charge. Before a vote is called, the accused is granted an opportunity to make a statement in his or her defense. Would you like to do so?"
"I don't deny that I aided the Dark Lord during his return," said Lucius. "I only sought to protect my son Draco from his terrible wrath if I refused to do his bidding. I ask for the court's mercy on behalf of my family. If you must punish me, so be it, but please show my son leniency. He knew not what he was doing, and he doesn't deserve a life behind bars for what the Dark Lord made him do." Harry felt like Lucius was addressing him with this final plea, which only tightened the knot in his stomach.
The vote was decisive. Lucius was found guilty of both major counts against him, and was sentenced to fourteen years for his crimes. Harry felt no relief when he finally retracted back below the floor, because he knew what was coming next. Soon a new figure emerged in the cage...Draco Malfoy looked paler than Harry could ever remember him being, and he was positively quaking in his seat, looking fearfully around him at the gathered crowd. Kingsley cleared his throat and began.
"Draco L. Malfoy," he boomed, "you have been charged with the crimes of conspiracy to murder Albus Dumbledore and conspiracy with the Dark wizard Voldemort, in addition to several lesser charges. How do you plead?"
"N-not guilty," Draco stammered.
"Very well," said Kingsley. "Let the record show that Mr. Malfoy did not present a wand for analysis to the court, so we have been unable to determine any usage of Unforgivable Curses."
"It was stolen from me!" Draco protested, but Kingsley ignored him.
"We will now begin witness testimonies," said the Minister. "The court calls Harry J. Potter to the stand."
The crowd murmured in surprise as Harry rose from his seat and moved towards the solitary seat just below Kingsley's bench. He sat not ten feet away from Draco, whose fearful eyes rested upon his old nemesis. Harry looked at Draco for a moment, and the gravity hit him of the power he now wielded over Draco's fate. His life very likely rested in Harry's hands. Harry cleared his throat and began his prepared statements.
"During my sixth year at Hogwarts," Harry started, "I began to suspect that Draco was up to something nefarious. He would disappear for hours at a time in a secret room on the seventh floor, which contained a Vanishing Cabinet. It had been broken, but if repaired, it formed a passageway between the castle and a twin cabinet at Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley. Draco repaired this cabinet and permitted a number of Death Eaters to enter the castle and murder Professor Dumbledore."
Harry glanced down at his written notes. He had planned on moving on from there and continuing into the following year, but he suddenly felt he had not done justice to Draco's actions during Dumbledore's downfall. So he began to improvise.
"This wasn't Draco's first attempt at assassinating Dumbledore," he said. "First he used an Imperius Curse on Madam Rosmerta to do his bidding. Then he tried to send Dumbledore a cursed necklace, which put Katie Bell in St. Mungo's. He also poisoned a bottle of mead and intended to gift it to the Headmaster, but it wound up poisoning Ron Weasley instead. I believe his actions not only led to Dumbledore's death, but endangered the other students at the castle as well."
Harry glanced around at the Wizengamot, who took in every word he spoke with rapt attention. He saw many of the same faces who appeared stricken by Neville's testimony against the Carrows, now shocked at these revelations – perhaps many were parents of Hogwarts students themselves. Harry glanced back down at his notes and continued.
"The next time I saw Draco was at Malfoy Manor last spring," he said. "I was captured by Snatchers while on the run and brought there as a reward. Draco was present as they discussed summoning Voldemort to come and kill me. I witnessed him transporting prisoners to and from the basement at wandpoint. There was a skirmish, and I briefly engaged Draco in the fight before escaping."
Harry saw a line in his notes about Malfoy declining to identify him, but suddenly didn't seem to think it was worth mentioning. Recounting the events of last year had re-soured Harry's opinion on Draco, and he saw no reason to lead the Wizengamot to believe Draco was merciful in any way towards him.
"I again encountered Draco at the Battle of Hogwarts," said Harry. "He was supposed to evacuate the castle, but he snuck back in against McGonagall's orders. He and his friends intercepted me and again attempted to turn me in to Voldemort. There was another fight between us, and I barely escaped with my life." Harry declined to mention the Fiendfyre, or the part where he saved Draco's life in the process. "I later witnessed his parents in Voldemort's camp in the Forbidden Forest, and again during the final stage of the battle." Again, Harry declined to mention that they were not fighting, but rather searching the castle for Draco.
Harry stood rather awkwardly at the conclusion of his remarks and returned to his seat beside Ron and Neville. He could see Draco's crestfallen expression; he knew he was now doomed thanks to Harry's testimony. A few more people spoke after Harry...Neville testified that Draco was among the people the Carrows authorized to use Unforgivable Curses against disobeying students. Several others testified that he had shown them his Dark Mark in an effort to intimidate them. Madam Rosmerta affirmed that she had been placed under the Imperius Curse, though she couldn't definitively state that it was Draco who had done it. Once the last witness had spoken, Kingsley called the room to order once more.
"The court has taken into account that Mr. Malfoy was underage when many of his supposed crimes took place," said Kingsley. "However, given the serious nature of these crimes, the court is still seeking a minimum of ten years at Nurmengard per charge. Before a vote is called, the accused is granted an opportunity to make a statement in his or her defense. Would you like to do so?"
Draco cleared his throat. "I did a lot of things I'm not proud of," he muttered. "But I only did them because the Dark Lord would have murdered me and my family otherwise. He used our home as a headquarters and had eyes on me and my family at all times. He frequently looked into my mind to ensure I was not working against him. I never killed anybody, and as soon the Dark Lord was gone, I joined my family in renouncing him. I hope the court considers my youth and the danger my family was in when deciding my fate."
Harry looked around the room to gauge the Wizengamot's reaction to Draco's plea. They were hard to read, but he could see conflicted looks on many faces. It was clear that Draco's youth and the lack of firm charges against him was working in his favor, but would that be enough to offset Harry's testimony against him?
"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," said Kingsley. "The court will now vote on the two primary charges against you. For the charge of conspiracy to murder Albus Dumbledore, all those in favor of conviction?"
Many hands shot into the air – a clear majority. Draco hung his head in shame.
"And for the charge of conspiracy with the Dark wizard Voldemort, all in favor of conviction?"
Fewer hands than before went up. Among those still voting guilty were the thirteen goblins and the handful of Wizengamot members that Harry suspected to be parents of Hogwarts students – the ones that seemed most swayed by his testimony. It wasn't much of a majority, but it was enough. Kingsley tallied up the votes and nodded.
"Very well," he said. "The court finds Draco L. Malfoy guilty of two major charges, and hereby sentences him to twenty years in Nurmengard, effective immediately." He banged his gavel, and Draco burst into tears; unable to bring his shackled hands to his face, he hung his head low and wept openly into his lap. Harry could not bring himself to look at Draco as he was lowered back below the floor, still shaking with sobs, out of sight.