hey everyone! Sorry that it's taken me so long, yet again. I've been dealing with schoolwork, and sewage leaks, and finals coming up, and my sick dog, and today, my entire family developed a cold.. yeah. Anyway..
In response to almost everyone, I'm so glad that you liked the half and half convo between harry and sev. I read the parts that you could actually hear out loud to myself after I wrote it, and had a good laugh. I know, I'm insane. And don't worry, I'll tell you when it's about to end, for the sake of fairness, okay? I know that I'm evil. I can't help it.
Hmm. Thanks a million times over to slycat-blaze, Salazar Slytherin, R.I. Red, jay, palanmenel, cloudburst2000- No, Sirius is simply daft and doesn't know it yet, someone, kiara Malfoy, elfmoon87, lirael, iniysa, ryleeblack, helga243, tantz, Winston jerimiah ashcroft III, innocent dreamer, mikee, takari4ever7, ugly duckling, lady lightning, sage and snape, wolfie jr., piggie, nilboriel, candledot, lillinfields, litine, kateri, littletiger, not a muggle, kemenran, athenakitty, fnxmoon, stayblue, eris wannabe, enahma, calani, stoney emerys, toria, corgi, shannic, charma1219, and mp.
It is the bliss of checking my email to find all of your reviews that keeps me going. Thank you!
These lovely characters are not mine. I'm merely complicating their lives further with crazy plot bunnies..
Onward, ho!!
~~**~~~
All of London was in an uproar. Molly Weasley had cried for twenty-four hours straight, a feat not easily accomplished. The Weasley household was a mess as they all prepared to go to Harry's trial. The same was occurring in the Granger household. Although Hermione was the only one going, her parents were sharing in her anguish.
And in a little room just to the left of an enormous courtroom, which would soon be filled with people, Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and Lupin, were all hunched over a table trying to make last-minute plans for the trial.
A booming knock on the door interrupted their work.
"Yes?" Minerva answered irritably.
A guard pushed Harry Potter through the door angrily. "Here," he spat, and slammed the door.
Harry was thrown against the table. "Ow," he said, looking at the concerned expressions on his professors' faces.
"Harry?" Lupin embraced him gently and pushed back long hair to examine a cut on his forehead.
"It's fine, Professor," Harry said. He touched his forehead, and with a small blast of gold, the cut was healed.
"Harry, we were worried," said Dumbledore soothingly.
"Thank you. I'm fine, though. I guess I'm hungry, maybe."
"Didn't they feed you?" asked Minerva.
Harry snorted. "No. And I didn't want to conjure up food in case they could see me. That, and the fact that any food that I might conjure would end up tasting disgusting." He paused. "Fudge did come down to 'visit,' though. We argued, and that's how I ended up with that on my forehead."
"It would go along with all of the other scars," Snape snarled thoughtlessly.
Harry glared at him face-to-face. They both realized that Harry was now just as tall as Severus. He didn't have that advantage any more.
Damn.
"Okay, boys," Minerva said playfully, "let's get back to work. No fooling around." She shot a dark look at Snape, who sneered at her.
McGonagall rolled her eyes and looking down at the pile of parchment before her.
"So.. what's the plan?" asked Harry, trying and failing to sound nonchalant and conversational.
"We spent all day researching and planning yesterday. Minerva had come up with a response to every single argument that Fudge could possibly make, or so it seems. Relax, Harry. Just try to sit down and let us deal with this."
"No! You think I'm going to sit out and let you run the entire thing? Forgive me, Professor, but this is my trial. I think I should at least have a bit of a say in it?!?" said Harry angrily.
Dumbledore smiled as he remembered a very similar scene that had happened in that very same room a number of years ago. A young Severus Snape had said quite the same thing when Dumbledore had told him to let his professors take care of it. Snape had lost that argument, too.
Severus rolled his eyes at a smiling Albus Dumbledore. He knew just what he was thinking about. Severus seemed to recall screaming very similar words at the headmaster quite a few years back.
"Albus, stay in the present, please," said Snape gruffly.
Harry looked at him, wanting an explanation, but none was given.
Dumbledore shook his head and started talking.
~~**~~
Fifteen minutes later, the same guard knocked on the door. "It's time!" he bellowed.
There was a deafening roar coming from the other side of that door. Harry started to tremble nervously, until Remus put a hand on his shoulder.
"It's okay, Harry. It will be okay."
Dumbledore opened the door and walked into the courtroom, which fell silent at the sight of Harry. He held his chin up defiantly, but was quaking with fear inside.
He recognized a lot of the people in the crowd- Ron and Hermione, all of the rest of the Weasleys, Seamus, Neville (with a woman who must have been his Gran), Cho Chang, Colin and Dennis Creevey, and..
Draco Malfoy?
'Probably here to testify against me,' Harry thought as he sat down.
When he did, the courtroom became loud with whispers, and Harry started trembling. He could feel their eyes on him, all of them, staring at him like he was a stranger.
"SILENCE!" bellowed Alfred Munnegin, head of the Department of Justice, and the judge for Harry's case.
"Now," he said, "this is case number 112479680 with the defendant, Harry Potter," he paused to look at Harry, "and the prosecution, the Ministry of Magic and in particular, Minister Fudge. Mr. Potter is charged with the murders of Cedric Diggory, Lucius Malfoy, and.. er.. Lord Voldemort."
A wave of sound went through the room.
"If you all want to stay in here through the remainder of this trial, I suggest that you be absolutely silent. If you are not, I will personally throw you all out."
The room became still.
"Thank you. Now, with no further ado, I call upon the prosecution, Mr. Armadeus Falcon."
A tall man with short gray hair and an evil, pointy nose stood up and bowed to Judge Munnegin. He walked over to the jury, which was composed of ten people Harry had never seen before.
"I ask each of you to cast aside thoughts of glory, fame, and honor. Forget that the boy sitting in front of you is the famous Harry Potter. What we are after is a murderer. It doesn't matter what he thought when he was doing it, or what he thought afterward. It shouldn't matter how sorry he is, or how nervous he is to be here. Not even his reasons for killing really matter. We're just here to give justice to the murderer. Which he is, it should be easy to find. Harry Potter is a murderer."
Falcon sat down and grinned evilly at Harry, who glared at him.
I'm not sorry. Evil bastard. How could he possibly begin to think that I am sorry? He's the one who should be sorry. He probably lost his master when I shot the curse at him. Filthy death eater.
Snake smirked.
Actually, that guy is just slimy, greasy, filthy, and a bastard. Miraculously, not a death eater.
Harry raised an eyebrow at him as Dumbledore stood up to say his piece.
"I'd like to remind you all what Lord Voldemort had done in his life. He was responsible for the deaths of thousands. He was known for torture, death, and pain. And he was the most powerful dark lord the wizarding community had ever seen. Lucius Malfoy was one of Voldemort's most loyal death eaters. He had also inflicted pain upon many. And now I bid you to take a look at the boy in front of you. His name is Harry Potter. He is a fourteen-year-old Gryffindor from Hogwarts. As a child, his mother's love saved him from Voldemort's wand. In his past four years of school, Voldemort had been out to get him at every chance he got. This boy has faced Voldemort more than his fair share of times in his relatively short lifetime. When Voldemort tried to get rid of us all, Harry Potter saved us time and time again. He is the reason we are all still alive. Thank you," finished Dumbledore. He walked back to the bench and sat down heavily.
Harry flashed his mentor a small, reassuring smile before returning to his former stoic glare.
None of them noticed a curious prosecutor looking back and forth between the boy and his potions master, an idea beginning to form in his mind.
