Part 4: Deliver Me from all of the Madness
Sirius sat down stiffly and repressed a yawn. All bloody night he had been leaping through every political hoop there was, and even some that weren't. He had not slept in 72 hours and it was beginning to creep up on him. The courtroom was bare except for the furniture that was necessary for such an occasion. A bland, off-white room that revealed not the horrors that were discussed and performed there once.
He scowled as a shiver went down his spine. He remembered this courtroom very well. It was the one in which he had been sent for an impromptu mock trial that only took place to publicly announce his guilt and ship him off to Azkaban. But there had been real murderers, and worse, here. Massacres had been discussed here and the worse of the criminals had been put to death a few rooms away. This was no place for a child.
And yet, a child was here. A child had been held captive here and forced into the very same mock trial Sirius had gone through. However, Sirius hadn't had a father so bent on getting him out of this like Sirius was. Harry would be free as soon as his innocence was proven. Of that he had no doubt.
He looked up to see Remus enter the room, also looking as though he hadn't slept peacefully in ages. He spared Sirius a comforting smile as he continued his way to the defense table where he spread out all his papers. Sirius knew that if anyone could save Harry from Fudge's political circus, it was the werewolf. No one knew the Ministry like Remus did. It came from years of experience as a registered werewolf and from being the best read of the Marauders.
Others soon came milling in; mostly spectators and reporters. But there were some who came just for Harry's sake. The Weasleys were there, as was Dumbledore and teachers who could spare a day or two away from school. Sirius suspected that some of those present were there as witnesses and not just for spectating. If any had a word to say against Harry, Sirius would…
The doors behind the judge's booth opened and four figures entered the room. Two were Dementors and a third was an Orc who helped run the dreaded prison. Humans were hard to come by when it came to staffing Azkaban, so the thick skinned and skulled creatures were employed often. A leathery brown in appearance, Orcs were closely related to goblins, only with worse temperaments, larger bodies, and slower minds. Sirius shuddered at some of the memories he had of those torture chambers Orcs delighted in operating. He silently thanked whatever deity was listening that prisoners not convicted of any crimes were not allowed to be touched in any way by those horrid creatures.
A silent figure walked in the middle of the intimidating trio, so small that Sirius had at first passed him over. Nearly a shadow of himself, Harry had lost a lot of weight since the accusation nearly a week ago. Too much weight than was healthy. It was a common occurrence among prisoners of Azkaban, yet it did not sate the rage building in the young father. He had been refused all access to his adopted son since his return and knew little more about the case than did the general public. He was not used to nor did he like being so useless and helpless to the boy who meant more to him than all else. Yes, he thought. If it was the last thing he did, he would see his son's name cleared of all suspicion.
Harry did not look at Sirius, nor at anything, as he made his way across the floor. His body could only focus on one thing at a time, and right then, it was focused on getting to the other side of the room without passing out. The constant presence of the Dementors did little to get him more accustomed to their influence or to make him less afraid. In his mind he heard the eternal screaming of his mother. And also, he could hear the frightened yells of his uncle; the last thing he ever heard from his former foster family. Their dying screams were forever etched in his mind and he could do nothing about it.
The itchy gray prison cloak he wore nearly tripped him up as he passed the jury stand. Cloaks such as his were designed for hardened criminals in the prime of their lives. Not frightened teenagers. It weighed him down, just as the Dementors constantly weighed down his heart. What he wouldn't give for a giant bar of chocolate just then.
Daring to look up, he saw passed the black cloaks of his guards and into the audience. His friends, teachers, and even Headmaster were there, silently offering him their comfort and support. Hagrid stood in the back, too big for the benches, yet refusing to leave his young charge. Looking into the bench behind his own table was a sight he had longed and yet feared to see for the past week. Sirius sat there calmly, belying any emotion he might be feeling. However, Harry knew his beloved father well enough to see past the calm exterior.
Sirius' light sapphire eyes were a storm of emotion, barely containing their rage and disgust. At this, the young wizard felt his heart squeeze tight in his throat. Sirius couldn't think he did such a thing, could he? Surely that look of revulsion wasn't meant for him. Their eyes met for the first time in a month and the knot in Harry's stomach relaxed once more. The deep love in Sirius' eyes assured the boy of his place in the man's heart. Nothing could change that and Sirius would never believe the cruel lies of the Ministry.
The walk to the safety of the defense table seemed like it took forever, yet it was really less than a minute. Remus was waiting for Harry and conjured up a seat for the boy to slump down in. He offered the boy a light squeeze on the shoulder.
'What a fine pair we make,' thought the werewolf wearily. 'We haven't slept for 8 hours between the two of us. How can we hope to defend this case if we nod off on the stand?'
"How are you, Harry?" asked Remus quietly. He had been with Harry at least 3 times a day trying to get all the information he could for the case. Unfortunately, the time allotted them did not allow for the comfort he would have liked to give the boy on top of the questioning.
Harry only shrugged. "Fine," he mumbled looking anything but 'fine'. But it would have to do for the moment as the door behind the judge's stand opened once more. A Senior Auror entered the room, wearing the blood red robes of his office.
"All rise for the Honorable Morgan Du Lac, who will be presiding over the case of Ministry vs. Black."
Harry pushed himself to his feet wearily. Even standing was a struggle at this point when all he wanted was a warm blanket for his frozen body and soul and a soft bed free of the madness surrounding him. The judge, a middle-aged witch, entered wearing the neutral black and white robes of her position.
She had a stern face, much like Professor McGonnagal's, but without the kind undertone the aging teacher's eyes carried. This judge had seen the worst of murderers and Death Eaters. She had sent many to the execution chamber and even more to Azkaban never to see the light of day again. This was a judge hardened by time and would not give an inch where it was not due. But she was fair. She would not send a boy to Azkaban if he did not deserve it. Ms. Du Lac looked down on Harry and he knew that the one wish he had had all his life in the wizarding world had finally come true: she did not see him as anything but an underage wizard accused of the worst of crimes. He was not The Boy Who Lived. He was no one.
The court sat with the judge and the trial began. The trial of the century. The trial of the Boy Who Lived.
****
"…It is my personal and educated opinion that this child's recent history, as well as the history of his entire life, has rendered him mentally unstable and left him a danger to himself and others. It is time that he be held accountable for his actions. He may be a minor, but he knows what evil is. And he cannot be allowed to be overlooked just because of an event that occurred before he could walk. I ask that a family of Muggles be given the justice that Auror Granby and Javen Derios were not given. And I ask that you, honorable members of the jury, determine the truth and act accordingly." With that, the prosecutor, a young wizard by the name of Thomas Montere finished his opening statement. He sat down with a bow to the judge and jury, sparing a smug glance to his opponents.
"Mr. Lupin," Du Lac addressed, "Do you have any opening statements before this trial officially opens?"
Remus stood up slowly, taking a deep breath. "I do, your Honor," he said. Inwardly, he grimaced. Public speaking never was his strong point. As well as being the best read of the Marauders, he was also the most soft-spoken. However, one look at Harry's large green eyes, depthless in their grief, reminded him of what he was fighting for. He would succeed. He had to.
"Your Honor, members of the jury," he acknowledged. "There are not many wizards or witches alive who have faced what this child has faced. He has seen and been victimized to things that would drive any of us to the brink of madness. Yet, he has come out each time with more moral character, bravery, and strength than the best of us. This last summer's occurrence is no exception. He has shown no signs that he has crossed the line into the realm of Dark Magic. He is no murderer and anything that Mr. Montere has referred to considering Derios and Granby has no significance here. That case has been already reviewed and thrown aside. I ask that you, honorable members of the jury, find this boy innocent. Not because he is the Boy Who Lived, but because he did not, could not, commit this crime."
His opening words were not as long or eloquent as those of Montere, but they were heartfelt and got to the point. However, it was painfully obvious that Remus did not have the experience needed to pull off this defense. He could only hope on the truth to push aside any of the games the famed prosecutor might pull.
Du Lac nodded at his words politely. "Now then," she said, "We shall hear the prosecution make its case before moving to the defense after which the jury will come to a verdict. Mr. Montere, you may present your case."
The young lawyer stood and walked to the center of the room with ease, betraying his experience to the audience. Harry watched numbly, a pit growing in his stomach again. How could he hope to defend himself when even he did not know the truth? The Dementor behind him shifted and a new wave of horror swept through him as he heard his uncle's dying screams again.
Montere turned to look at Harry, his dark eyes sneering at the boy. He smiled ferally and declared that which shocked the courtroom. "I call Mr. Harry Black to the stand."
The room broke out in furious whispers. To make such a bold move so early on was either very clever or very foolish. This one testimony could make or break the prosecution.
As Harry stood to take his place on the stand, Remus leaned over to whisper in the boy's ear, "do not answer anything that makes you uncomfortable. You need not incriminate yourself. He will try to trip you up and twist your words."
"I know," Harry said in a soft blank voice. "I have it under control."
Remus sighed and let the boy go up to the witness stand. There was no more he could do to help his godson.
Harry was sworn in and gratefully sat down. "Good morning, Harry," Montere said in a friendly but false voice. He had no desire to be Harry's friend. All he was concerned with was winning this case and Harry knew it.
"Good morning, sir," Harry answered in a neutral voice.
"How old are you, Harry?"
"15."
"And how long have you known the Dursely's?"
"All my life. They took me in when I was a baby."
"And how did they treat you?"
Harry stiffened. This wasn't a subject he wanted to discuss, but a look from the judge made him answer. "They locked me in a cupboard. I owned nothing and I was bullied by my cousin all the time."
"And tell us about when you received a note in school a few weeks ago. The one about the Dursleys."
The boy took a deep breath and answered, looking the young lawyer in the face. "I got a note from Remus saying that the Dursleys were fighting for custody again after they found out about my gold in Gringotts."
"So you had a lot of resentment built up towards them at that point, didn't you? You may have even felt like you would do anything to get rid of them."
"Objection!" exclaimed Remus from his seat, "Your Honor, he's leading the witness."
"Objection sustained," the judge agreed. She turned to Montere, "I believe he is supposed to answer the questions, not you."
Montere nodded, "Question withdrawn." He looked back at Harry seemingly unabashed. He held up a crumpled note and should it to the judge, "Your Honor, I would like to enter this into evidence."
Du Lac agreed, "So entered."
Montere walked back to the witness stand and handed the paper to Harry, "Would you mind reading this to the court, Harry?"
Harry took the paper and skimmed over it. It was the paper he had written to Ron right before he left to see the Dursleys. Even now, his head hurt to think of his motives then. He couldn't remember anything and it frustrated him to no end. However, the court was waiting for him to speak, so speak he did.
"'R on, don' t worry, I'll be back soon. Tell Hermione not to worry either. If I'm not back in time for classes, just tell the professors I wasn't feeling well and I'm laying down in our dorms. I've found a way to get rid of the Dursleys' claim on me forever. Don't worry for me, I've got everything under control.'" He handed the note back to the prosecutor who was barely concealing his smirk.
"Now, Harry," Montere said handing the note to the nearest Auror to be entered into the evidence. "Why would you write such a thing? What was your intention when you left school? And why have your friends lie to cover up your misdeeds?"
"I don't remember," Harry said, "I don't remember anything that happened that night."
Montere turned and stared at the boy. "You are under oath, Mr. Black," he warned. "We'll have none of this child's play here."
"I'm telling the truth," Harry said angrily. "I don't remember." He narrowed his eyes at Montere, daring him to call him a liar. Montere called that dare.
"You have been tested for memory charms, have you not? There is no other explanation for any sudden memory loss. Unless there is something you wish to cover?"
"I have nothing to cover," Harry denied. Montere rounded upon the boy fully. Du Lac sighed and smacked the stand with her mallet, drowning out Montere's response.
"I will have order in this court," she demanded, "If either of you bicker once more, you will both be held in contempt of court. Continue, Councilor."
"Yes, Your Honor," Montere said, "I apologize." Harry mumbled an apology as well. Du Lac nodded and bade them to continue. Montere retracted his previous question since it was obvious Harry would not or could not answer.
The prosecutor returned to his desk and retrieved something else from his briefcase. Holding it up to the court, he entered his second piece of evidence. Approaching Harry's seat, he showed it to the boy. "Can you tell what this is?"
"My glasses," Harry muttered, astounded. Where had they been found? He must have lost them when he…oh no!
"Your glasses," agreed Montere, "Found at the scene of the crime no less. And what, if you remember, would such a thing be doing there when you were not?"
"I didn't say I wasn't at the Dursleys," Harry said, "I said I didn't remember." Du Lac shot him a warning glance. He tried to calm himself, knowing his very life was at stake. "But no, Mr. Montere, I can't tell you why they were there."
Montere seemed untroubled by this answer and put away the glasses. "I just have a few more questions, Harry. Can you tell me about a man named Javen Derios? I'm especially interested in some spells you learned under his care."
Remus could take this no longer, "Objection! This has no relevance!"
"This goes to credibility, your Honor," Montere replied smoothly.
"Objection overruled. But get to the point please, Montere."
"Yes, your Honor. Now, Harry, is it true that while under Mr. Derios' care, you were taught dark spells?"
Now Harry saw it. This was to be one of Montere's greatest weapons. Every experience with Javen was going to be used and twisted against him. He saw Remus give him an encouraging smile and allowed the slightest spark of warmth fill his hurting soul.
"Yes."
"And is it true that you performed these dark spells on your own and at command?"
"No." Montere's smile faltered.
"May I remind you that you are under oath. Please explain your answer."
This was it. He had to tell the court about Javen. He had to get passed his demons surrounding the young former hit-wizard. If they all knew, Montere would lose his weapon. He had to tell them. The image of the dead Auror floated into his head and he visibly flinched. He had to tell them. But he couldn't do it; not even to save his life.
"I-I can't," he choked out. "I didn't."
"Answer the question, Harry," the judge said.
"He doesn't need to, your Honor," Montere said, "I have no further questions." He walked back to his bench smoothly and turned to Remus. "Your witness."
Remus glared at the prosecutor and stepped up to the witness stand. He didn't want to do this to the boy who meant so much to him. This was tearing Harry apart and it was only the first day of the trial. But he had to do it to save him.
He smiled at Harry and received a small smile in return. Harry knew the smile was genuine unlike Montere's, and he was relieved to see a familiar face.
"Harry, tell me about an incident in your 4th year at Hogwarts. Tell us about the Tri-wizard Tournament."
Harry knew this question would come up; they had discussed it earlier. And at least it was an easier topic than the dreaded Javen, though he knew it was bound to reappear.
"I was chosen as a fourth competitor for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. It was a ruse by one of Voldemort's supporters to kill me. At the last task, a classmate and I were transported by a spy to Voldemort's rebirth—"
"Please use You-Know-Who," requested the judge after too many of the court's number flinched again. She seemed indifferent to the Dark Lord's name. Harry nodded.
"You-Know-Who was reborn and my friend was killed." This was harder to get out than he thought, but he pressed forward. "I was going to be killed too, and we dueled. I managed to get away with Cedric's body. The spy at Hogwarts was discovered to be Barty Crouch Jr."
"Did you sustain any injuries, Harry?"
"Yes, many."
"Did You-Know-Who offer you anything?"
"He told me that if I joined him, I could share in his conquest. I could live forever and see my parents."
"And you turned it down?"
"Of course."
"Objection!" cried Montere finally, "This has nothing to do with this case."
"Objection sustained," agreed the judge. She looked down at Remus, "Please explain your motive for bringing up events over a year old."
He nodded, "You-Know-Who offered Harry many things if he would only join his cause. Why should Harry cross into the Dark Arts now when he has fought against them for so long and suffered through so much?"
"There is no evidence that You-Know-Who is even alive let alone risen!" cried Montere, "The boy is a liar!"
"He is not!" Remus returned, his eyes blazing.
"That is enough!" boomed Du Lac, "I will have order in my courtroom or I will arrest every last one of you! Mr. Lupin, would you please get on with your questions?"
"Yes, your Honor. Harry, did the Dursleys abuse you?"
"No. Not quite."
"What do you mean, not quite?"
"They didn't hit me. I was
just…neglected."
"Would you have any reason to wish harm on the Dursleys now that you were away from them?"
"No."
"And when the Dursleys wanted to reclaim you into their custody?"
Harry faltered again. Why couldn't he remember that night?! How could he testify in his own behalf if he couldn't even remember what happened? Remus saw the sudden look of fear in the boy's eyes as Harry failed to answer. Frowning, he tried to rephrase the question.
"Did you want to see the Dursleys dead?"
"No, I don't think I did. They didn't deserve to die the way they did." Even Harry winced at his own words. They did not come out the way he intended. This testimony was becoming worse and worse by the minute. He could not continue this much longer.
Remus groaned inwardly. This was getting them nowhere. The boy was becoming nearly frantic in his seat. The confusion and fear was mounting. This had to end, like it or not.
"I have no further questions, your Honor," he said and stepped away from the witness stand. The judge let Harry return to his seat at Remus' side soon after.
The werewolf took in the boy's stature and mentally sighed. That did not help their case at all. Any more slip-ups and the case would be lost. Why oh why did Harry freeze up like he did? They had discussed it over and over and still he faltered and stumbled exactly where he shouldn't. He spared a glance at Padfoot. His friend had a strange look on his face that did not tell Remus what he was thinking. That look frightened him.
"Harry, do you want me to call a recess?" asked Remus quietly as Montere prepared to call his next witness. The boy shook his head slowly, wishing for whatever reason to stay and endure it. Remus bowed to his wishes and remained silent.
Montere stood and called forth his next witness. "Mr. Ollivander, would you mind taking the stand for me?"
The aged wand maker walked up to the witness stand like one to his own funeral. He was obviously fond of the boy and would not wish anything like this upon him. However, he had to do what must be done. He did not look at Harry as he took his oath of truthfulness, nor did he look at him as he gave his testimony.
Montere retrieved another item, evidence piece number 3. Harry saw the item and sank lower into his seat. This did not go unnoticed by anyone in the court; jury, Remus, and Padfoot included.
The prosecutor held up the wand for all to see. It was inside a plastic bag so none could contaminate it. Dried blood still marred the beautiful wood, blood that was not the owner's.
"Mr. Ollivander, would you please state your occupation?"
"I am a maker and seller of wands in Diagon Alley."
"And do you consider yourself an expert on wands?"
"Yes."
"I have heard you know every wand you have ever sold?"
"That is correct. Yours, Mr. Montere, I believe was 9 inches, flimsy, made of maple and a strand of manticore hair. Excellent for dueling."
Montere did not grace this with a reply, but took out Harry's wand with a pair of rubber gloves. He instructed the wand maker to put on a pair as well and placed it in his hands. "Can you tell me who's wand this is?"
"Certainly, Mr. Montere," replied Ollivander gravely, "This belongs to Harry Potter."
The courtroom broke out in whispers and Du Lac had to rap with her mallet a few times to regain order. Montere didn't so much as flinch. "Indeed." He handed a sheet of paper with a group of fingerprints on it. "This is a set of fingerprints. One is a set of the fingerprints found in the Dursleys' home with their blood on them. Another is a set of the bloody fingerprints found on the wand and dated to the time of the attack. The last set is of Mr. Black's taken after he was arrested. Tell me, is there any difference in them?"
"No," Mr. Ollivander said reluctantly, trying to find any difference in the marks. There were none. "They are identical."
"There is a spell in which two wands are used to regurgitate spells. Can you explain this spell to the court, please?"
"It takes brother wands to create this spell. When the owners force them to duel, Priori Incantetum takes place. One of the wands forces the other to regurgitate its previous spells, starting with the most recent."
"Would a murder appear during such an experiment?"
"Certainly."
"And where can a brother wand to Mr. Black's be found?"
"There was only one brother to Harry's wand," said Mr. Ollivander, a look of sorrow entering his voice as he spoke his next words. "The only other belonged to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named."
Even Montere did a double take at this. He had expected to test the wand for the Unforgivable Curses. Instead he had unwittingly stumbled across this of all things. The rest of the courtroom was in an uproar so that Du Lac had to shoot up loud bangs with her wand before order was restored. By then, Montere had successfully composed himself.
"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. I have no further questions." He nodded to Remus as he took his seat, "Your witness."
Remus stalked up to the wand maker, anger burning in his eyes. But anger at what, not even the werewolf knew.
"Mr. Ollivander, you say that You-Know-Who has the only other brother to Harry's wand. Would that connection necessarily have anything to do with Harry's turning to the Dark Arts?"
"No, Mr. Lupin," Ollivander said, glad to be of some help after all, "It has no basis whatsoever. The wizard corrupts the wand, not the other way around."
"So the connection is coincidence?"
"Yes." The wand maker decided not to voice his own personal beliefs on why the Dark Lord and the Boy Who Lived had identical wands. Fate seemed to have more to do with it rather than coincidence.
"Can Priori Incantetum still be performed even without the other wand?"
"There is a form of it that can be done using only the one wand."
"Would the court allow this to take place?" Remus asked the judge. She looked over to the interested jurors and nodded to him. She too was fascinated at this point. Even Harry looked up to his new godfather. Remus was taking an awful big step with this experiment; to place so much trust in the boy when he himself was not so sure was touching.
"Mr. Ollivander, would you please demonstrate this with Harry's wand?"
"Of course." He rolled up his sleeves and took up the wand again from its resting place on the bag. "Priori Incantetum!"
The small shadow of a light drifted through the wand. Lumos.
"Priori Incantetum!"
The form of an unlocked door. Alohomora.
"Priori Incantetum!"
A block for a spell.
An anti-animagi spell.
Another block.
This time a Stunner.
Finally, three small shadows wafted in the air before disappearing. Harry closed his eyes and choked back a dry sob. The courtroom was silent. Sirius dropped his face into his hands. Remus' pale face dropped and filled with the deepest grief before setting back into his stoic persona. Mr. Ollivander dropped the wand as though it were on fire.
"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. I have no more questions."
End Part 4
Hides from angry readers. I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I know I'm evil. Just remember, if you kill me, you'll never find out what happens. Sorry this took so long, I had technical difficulties. I had a duo practice with my sister for dance and somehow managed to break my hand! I am currently writing this one handed and it takes a while. Not to mention the writer's block I just got over didn't feel like moving. Anyway, here it is.
We'll have more Rob action coming up. I promise. As much as no one seems to like him, you'll see how important he is later on. Oh, and the rest of this story is not a trial. Far from it. This should only last another chapter or so. Then the verdict and then…well…more. ^_^
Thanks a lot Relle for the help! You're the best!
And now…for the responses!
Nicky: I can't tell you that, sorry. : ) If I told you what really happened, you wouldn't need to read anymore.
Umr: Thanks!
Relle: You know for a fact I have more than 2 mistakes! By the way, you're the best! Don't forget to send me your stuff to BETA!
Katie: Hmm…interesting points. But I am sworn to secrecy. Everyone, read her review, she may have something there…then again, she may not. *ducks *.
Black Panther: Thanks! I will proceed right on to your story with glee.
Brit Brat Butterfly: #1. Javen't body was recovered, and it is his real body. #2. No to look-alike theory, but warm on the Javen/Rob connection thing.
Elektra: I'm seeing a lot of you lately. Thank you soooo much for taking an interest in my work. I appreciate your thought out and supportive comments. So far, you are the closest with the theories. Oh, and you asked about SGNG being and AU. As of right now, I have a third story planned for this series (and the last one as it's a trilogy). It is a prequel to SGNG focusing mainly on Javen, his life, and why he is the way he is. In it, I will explain why I enter SGNG with such a big event, Sirius' acquittal. However, since I know J.K. Rowling will not do things my way in her next book (probably a good thing), it will become AU the moment HP: OoP comes out.
