James walked silently to the chair in the middle of the courtroom. The benches surrounding him were tall and threatening, powerful authority, save for the one directly behind him where his friends sat. The table in front of him was where the key figures in the trial sat: the Minister of Magic, his prosecutor, Lucius Malfoy, a scribe, and Rita Skeeter, whose Quik-Quotes Quill was already working at high speed.
Lily was supposed to be sitting in the third chair. She wasn't, however, because the paperwork she had filed as James's lawyer had mysteriously disappeared. In its place there was paperwork placing her in the position of Lucius Malfoy's witness.
James hadn't seen Lily since that morning; he'd left her sleeping to shower, and when he came out she was gone. He desperately wanted a moment to talk to her, to ask her to leave the trial, to sacrifice everything she'd done for him; Malfoy was dirty, and he would play dirty, and James did not want to see Lily under his inquiries on the witness stand -- but there was no chance for him to talk to her. She was speaking quietly to Dumbledore (whom he hoped was trying to talk her out of it) and he was sitting down in the chair under the incriminating eyes of the jury.
And as soon as he sat down, the chains came up around his legs and wrists.
Behind him, Lily, stricken, started to advance towards him and protest, but Dumbledore held her back. Rita Skeeter's Quill was working madly.
James looked with hollow eyes up at Cornelius Fudge. Funny. He usually seemed so small. The Minister of Magic introduced the participants of the trial to the scribe, and then stated the accusation: "James Potter, suspected of murdering Amelia Bones and Edgar Bones on the night of the 20th of December, 1979." James listened with half an ear. He could hardly believe he was sitting here with these chains around his ankles and wrists. He felt as though he was watching himself from afar, his face fallen and hopeless. It was too surreal, almost dreamlike.
"As Mr. Potter failed to apoint himself a lawyer," Fudge said snidely, "Lucius, you may begin your questioning."
I had a lawyer. Your trusted employee rigged this trial, James wanted to say, but he held his tongue. "Don't speak unless you're asked to," Lily had told him.
Malfoy strutted across the room and stood in front of James. James looked back at him stonily. The truth. The truth couldn't be too hard, could it? He could take it. He could take any damn questions that were thrown at him. Nothing could prove that he had committed murder.
"Mr. Potter, where were you on the night of December 20th?"
"I was hosting a Christmas party at my house, Godric's Hollow."
"But you left the party."
"Yes."
"And where did you go?"
"To a park in Surrey."
"Where our Ministry officials found you bending over Miss Bones' body, with her blood all over your clothes."
James said nothing.
"Why did you go to this park?"
"I don't remember."
"How did you get there?"
"I don't remember."
So far, so good. He sounded confident. He felt confident.
"Do you remember bending over Miss Bones' body with her blood all over your clothes?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember Ministry officials finding you there and ordering you to remain in place?"
"Yes."
"And what did you do?"
James swallowed hard. "I ran."
Malfoy's eyes glinted. "Why did you run?"
Because you were at the front of the formation, slimeball.
"First instinct. I didn't think."
Malfoy turned to Fudge. "Hardly an exceptable answer. It is clear, sir, that this is a poorly formulated excuse for an alibi. I have nothing more to ask of Mr. Potter."
A titter of voices arose in the jury behind him, and James knew what they were thinking. That was it? That was all Malfoy was going to ask him?
"Order in the court, please!" the Minister demanded, and the jury quieted. Then there was silence except for the scratching of Rita Skeeter's Quill. "Mr. Potter, have you anything to say in defense of Malfoy's accusations?"
"Yes, sir," James said calmly. "I'd like to say that my answers were the complete and total truth. I remember being at the party, and I remember finding myself in a playground next to Ellen Bones' body, but nothing in between. Obviously, someone modified my memory. Someone framed me."
"Do you have any proof of this memory modification?"
"You can't prove memory modification!" Lily exclaimed from behind him, taking everyone by surprise.
"Miss Evans, you have not been recognized to speak!" Fudge said, looking livid. "Lucius, are you sure you are quite finished with your inquiry?"
"Yes, sir, but I would like to call my next witness, Lily Evans, to the stand."