A/N: At last this long chapter is ready for posting. This was a tricky one to write, even though the sequence of events was all planned out. I had almost nothing to fall back on in the way of canon writing save the description of the room in which the Wizengamot sits. There are so many characters and so much description going on that the chapter went through several rewrites until I had tied up all the loose ends. PLEASE NOTE that I have changed a section of Chapter 30 (Be Still My Heart). A reader pointed out that the whole thing with Professor Thornby's voice was too reminiscent of The Little Mermaid, and ever since then I've been extremely dissatisfied with it. Anyway, the scene itself is still very much the same, except now the voice has no visual manifestation. FYI – we are getting close to the end. Of course, it is April in the story now, so you've probably guessed that. If only it were April in the real world...
procrastinator: People seem mixed on Ron's choice. I didn't think it was realistic for him to jump right in when there were lots of reasons not to. But take heart - there's still the future to think of.
PhoenixTearsp322: My Fudge has sunk pretty low. I always thought he could be a formidable roadblock for Dumbledore if he wanted to be. About the "pop": I was wondering if someone would mention this. I said it was a quiet pop. Whenever people Apparate you hear a loud crack. I can't think of any instance where J.K. Rowling has described whether or not the use of portkeys generates a noise, so I thought maybe it would sound like a muted Apparition. But you are quite right; you can't Apparate or Disapparate on Hogwarts grounds. Hermione would be proud of you!
athenakitty: I think Ron will warm up to the idea of being a Singer, but he's not ready yet.
Huskerinexile: This really ends up being McGonagall vs. Fudge. Harry mostly stands around and watches. He also gets to intimidate people just by being there, even though he doesn't believe that he can. Remember that Fudge is influencing a lot of the members of the Wizengamot, so McGonagall has to find a way to get around that.
Jemma Blackwell: Fudge is pretty awful. Yes, I will deal with him one way or another before the story ends. :-)
weirdsister: Thanks for the "bloody terrific" description! Yes, down with Whiny Harry! Hmm... Harry/Ginny fluff... I know I've mentioned before that I always figured they would end up together (although the end of Phoenix puts that in doubt), but Harry's not really getting into romance this year. Sixth year is just around the corner, though!
Jedi Buttercup: I'm not reading that much fanfiction right now because it's so hard to find any that's not depressing! I think that Harry and Ron really need each other, so that friendship is going to keep going. You're not the only person who liked Hermione's comment about Ron's brains. Thanks! About what Hagrid said about Harry learning some things soon... don't get too excited. I'll just come out now and say that I've worked the Order into the end of the story. I think everyone always figured that Dumbledore had his own group of allies, and this is the form that it officially took. So that's what Hagrid (as a member) was referring to.
Kaye: Sorry this one took such a long time. But on the upside, it's a lot better than I would have been if I'd just slapped it down on paper. I hope it's worth the wait!
chuckleseviltroll312: I love Hagrid. I realized partway through the story that I was neglecting him, and it just took a while before I could get him back into the action.
Chapter 34: Before the Wizengamot
At exactly seven thirty the next morning, Harry and Ron were ready and waiting by the portrait of the Fat Lady. Per Professor McGonagall's instructions, they had made themselves as neat as possible. Somehow Harry had managed to make his hair lie a little bit flatter than usual, and Hermione had even performed a useful little charm that polished up their shoes.
They hadn't been waiting long before Professor McGonagall came striding up. She was wearing deep blue robes instead of her usual green, and the long, white feathers in her matching hat were fresh and straight. "Come with me," she said brusquely, ignoring the curious looks of the students who were leaving the portrait hole. She led Harry and Ron to the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's offices.
"Pepper Imp," said Professor McGonagall, and the gargoyle granted them entrance.
Dumbledore was seated behind his desk when they walked in. Healer Bigelow from St. Mungo's was standing next to him, gesturing vigorously, but he stopped when he saw the newcomers. Harry's first thought was that the headmaster didn't look well. He seemed tired and pale, and the twinkle had gone out of his eyes.
"Good morning," said Dumbledore. "I wanted to give you a few instructions before you left. The first thing you should know is that Professor Thornby is not currently scheduled to appear before the Wizengamot today."
"Then why are we going?" Ron blurted.
"Patience, Ronald," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall is going to insist that her case be heard at once." Ron opened his mouth again, but Dumbledore held up a hand. "We believe we have a way to back the court into a corner. You will hear all shortly. You should also know that there is a remote possibility that either of you may be questioned by the court. If this does occur, they may ask you about some things that I would rather not reveal, but I am not going to ask you to lie to them."
Ron's eyes went wide. Harry knew he had to be thinking of what it would be like if the whole world suddenly knew why he had been attacked. "I've got no problem lying about this," he said. Ron nodded emphatically.
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "As a rule, it is best to tell the truth, but I fear that in this case it may be necessary to conceal it. More harm than good will come from honesty. Now, if you are not being questioned, you should both be silent. You are likely to hear some things that you don't like – things that are unfair or cruel, but an outburst will not help. Matters are firmly in Professor McGonagall's capable hands, and she will have help."
"From who?" said Ron.
Professor McGonagall shook her head. "Ever inquisitive. You will meet him in a few minutes, Weasley!"
"He is a barrister and a trusted friend," said Dumbledore. "I will leave the rest of that introduction to you, Minerva. Time is growing short."
"Indeed," said Professor McGonagall, glancing out one of the windows.
Dumbledore picked up a length of red ribbon that was lying atop his desk. It was tied in a loop, and from it hung a piece of shining gold worked into a wavy-rayed sunburst. Red, blue, and green enamel decorated its surface. "This has already been charmed," said the headmaster. "All you need do now is activate it."
"The disguises, Albus," said Professor McGonagall.
"Oh, yes," said Dumbledore. He pointed his wand at Harry. "Avertia!" He did the same to Ron and Professor McGonagall in turn.
Professor McGonagall held up the medallion by the red ribbon and waved her wand. "Portus!" The medallion swayed and glowed blue.
"Godspeed, Minerva," Dumbledore said gravely.
Professor McGonagall smiled fiercely at him. "Thank you, Albus." She held up her free hand and turned to Harry and Ron. "On three," she said. "One... two... three."
They touched the portkey together and were transported to a busy street in downtown London. There were Muggles everywhere, but none of them seemed to notice the three magical folk standing in their midst. In fact, Muggles who were walking straight at them would suddenly veer out of the way when they got close. Judging by their faces, they never even knew what they had done.
"What was that charm?" said Harry.
"Muggle repellant," said Ron. "Muggles can't sense that you're there, but they go out of their way to avoid you."
"Well stated," said Professor McGonagall, sounding a bit surprised. "Five points, Weasley." Ron grinned from ear to ear. "We'd best be off. This way," she said, taking off at a brisk walk. Harry and Ron trotted along behind her.
"Why are we in London?" said Harry. "Is the Ministry close?"
"There are several entrances to the Ministry of Magic," said Professor McGonagall. "One is in Diagon Alley and two are here in Muggle London. The Diagon Alley entrance is very popular, so using it was out of the question."
"Why?" said Ron.
"Because we don't want the world to know that we're coming," said Professor McGonagall. "If we walked through Diagon Alley, word would precede us and Fudge would be waiting. That would never do; I am going to make him come to us." Her eyes narrowed and she smiled a tiny smile. Harry thought she looked almost eager.
Professor McGonagall suddenly turned and held out the portkey to Harry. "Take this and keep it in your pocket," she said.
"What is that, anyway?" said Ron.
"Take a closer look," said Professor McGonagall. Harry took the medallion and turned it about. Thin gold script was inlaid into the enamel. Order of Merlin, First Class.
"Wow," said Ron. "Does Dumbledore always use stuff like this for portkeys?"
"The headmaster thought it might give Potter courage. Don't look so green," Professor McGonagall said kindly, giving Harry a shrewd look. "You are not expected to have the wisdom of a man many times your age, but only to stand in his place. When people see you, they will think of him."
"Please, what's wrong with him?" said Harry. "Is he sick?"
Professor McGonagall suddenly looked very somber. "He is not sick with a virus," she said. "He has been visiting Azkaban often to keep Professor Thornby's spirits up, and the dementors are taking their toll on him."
"Then shouldn't he stop going?" said Ron.
"Albus Dumbledore may be old and wise, but he's also quite stubborn," Professor McGonagall said sourly. "Fitzwilliam finally put his foot down when it came to this day. Celeste will be accompanied by dementors when she is brought in, and we can't have the headmaster collapsing in front of the Wizengamot."
"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed suddenly, grabbing Harry's arm and pulling him to a stop. "Isn't that your uncle?"
Professor McGonagall stopped walking and turned around. "What are you talking about, Weasley?"
Harry looked at where Ron was pointing. "It is him!" he said. "It's kind of early for him to be out. I didn't think he ever got to work before half past eight."
"What does your uncle do, Potter?" said Professor McGonagall.
"He sells drills," said Harry. "For Grunnings."
"I suppose that might explain it," said Professor McGonagall. "That building he's coming out of is the Magistrates' Court."
"Court?" said Ron. "Now that is a weird coincidence."
"I don't think he has anything to do with legal stuff," said Harry with a frown. "He just sells drills."
"Perhaps his company is in a legal wrangle," said Professor McGonagall. "I understand that they often are. Come – we need to hurry."
They walked a bit further until they were standing in front of something that even Harry recognized – the houses of Parliament. Harry opened his mouth to ask what they were doing there, but Professor McGonagall stopped him. "Just watch," she said. "Vide credeque!"
The building began to change before their eyes. It looked as if a second structure was appearing in the middle of the first, tall and white with fluted columns in the front. The left and right wings of Parliament were still visible on either side of the new building, but there was a dark fog that surrounded the edges of the Ministry. Muggles walking toward it would vanish into the fog. Harry didn't understand how two buildings could physically occupy the same space at the same time. Knowing that it was "magic" didn't help him comprehend it any better.
"Don't think about it too long, Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "You'll give yourself a headache." She started forward and Harry and Ron followed. As they approached the fog it faded away, but the Muggles around them faded and vanished as well. They climbed the stone steps and walked past the tall columns to several sets of heavy brass doors. "Alohomora," said Professor McGonagall, and the doors swung open.
Harry, Ron, and Professor McGonagall stepped inside into a rotunda that stretched up and up for at least twenty stories. Wound about the inside of the dome were white walkways with such spidery supports that they looked as if they would collapse under the weight of one footfall, but witches and wizards were traversing them with no concern whatsoever. There were doorways at each landing from which people were coming and going. Nearer to the ground the walls were hung with enormous portraits, some of past Ministers of Magic, some of scenes from magical history. Beneath the center of the dome itself stood two white marble statues, each fifteen feet tall. They were of an old witch and wizard who stood facing each other with their wands outstretched. Their faces were weathered and venerable, but their eyes were cold and blank.
A man in black robes and a powdered wig came walking up to them. "Good morning, Minerva," he said, bowing slightly. He had a dour voice and solemn, gray eyes.
"Good morning, Calvin," said Professor McGonagall. She turned to Harry and Ron. "Potter, Weasley, this is Calvin Featherstone. He is the barrister who will be accompanying us to court."
Featherstone shook both their hands. "The Wizengamot is convening as we speak," he said dolefully. "We should hurry." He turned and walked left toward a series of stone archways in the far wall. There were queues of witches and wizards waiting to go through some of the arches, but there were no people waiting in front of others. It was to one of the little-used archways that Featherstone led them. Harry couldn't see through to the other side; the air was full of the same dark fog that surrounded the building outside. Featherstone walked through and the air crackled blue around him. "Calvin Featherstone," said a soft voice.
"You next, Weasley," said Professor McGonagall.
Ron walked forward and the air crackled again. "Ronald Weasley," whispered the voice.
Harry and Professor McGonagall followed and found themselves in a long stone hallway. Flaming torches hung in brackets on the walls. There were doors all down the corridor, each made of heavy, iron-strapped wood.
"I suppose Dumbledore gave you instructions?" said Featherstone as they walked down the hallway.
"Yes," said Harry and Ron together.
"Good," said Featherstone. "Let me remind you now not to speak unless the Wizengamot, Professor McGonagall, or myself address you. After I am through, I doubt that Fudge's faction will dare to open their mouths, so I don't think they will be able to grill you today. No doubt they will wonder what you are doing here, Mr. Potter, as you were not the victim. My advice is to just let them wonder and worry."
Harry shook his head. He still didn't believe that he would be such an influence on anyone, but there was nothing he could do save go along with it.
They reached a winding stone staircase at the end of the hall. They followed it down until it stopped at a door; there was nowhere else to go. Featherstone pushed it open.
Harry instantly recognized the room from what he had seen in Dumbledore's pensieve. It was circular with stone steps lining the walls halfway around, like an amphitheater. On the floor sat a long, raised bench; several dozen witches and wizards were sitting behind it. The chained chair faced the bench, but it was empty now. Several other witches and wizards in Featherstone's garb of black robe and powdered wig were milling around the floor.
Everyone stopped talking when Featherstone, Professor McGonagall, Harry, and Ron entered. Featherstone whispered something in Professor McGonagall's ear. She nodded and strode forward to stand by the chair. "I, Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, do hereby request that Professor Celeste Thornby be permitted to enter a plea immediately."
The witches and wizards on the bench immediately began murmuring among themselves. One of the white-wigged barristers took off running through a side door. Off to get Fudge, thought Harry. A witch with a sharp nose and chin sitting near the front of the Wizengamot stood up. "Professor McGonagall, you seem unused to rules of decorum when addressing –"
"This is a public courtroom," Professor McGonagall interrupted coldly.
The pointy-faced witch sneered. "The Wizengamot does not allow outsiders to waltz in and dictate its schedule!"
"I demand that you hear her plea this instant," said Professor McGonagall as if the other woman had not spoken. "I have legal precedent to support me. I cite the case of Sackworth versus the Magical Peoples of Britain." She held out her right hand, and Featherstone moved to stand beside her.
Featherstone unscrolled the parchment he was carrying. "In the case of Sackworth versus the Magical Peoples of Britain, the Wizengamot decreed that no person accused of a crime of the first order shall be interred for a period of more than thirty days without entering a plea."
"Celeste Thornby has been held for six weeks," said Professor McGonagall.
"Johnson versus the Ministry of Magic was delayed for three months by special decree," said the pointy-faced witch.
"Due to the more urgent need to interrogate and try twelve captured followers of Grindelwald," said Featherstone.
"The Wizengamot is conducting important business today," said the witch.
"The Wizengamot is trying two petty thieves and a warlock suspected of practicing the Dark Arts," said Featherstone. "And... oh, yes... hearing arguments on whether dungbombs should be a restricted import," he finished dryly.
The witch fired something back at him, and Featherstone had yet another answer. They went back and forth for a bit until the side door banged open again and Fudge, Mr. Malfoy, and Percy hurried into the room. Fudge looked absolutely livid. Unless it was Uncle Vernon, Harry had never seen a human being achieve the Minister's shade of purple. Professor McGonagall and Featherstone did not even glance in Fudge's direction.
At Fudge's arrival the argumentative witch smiled triumphantly, but Featherstone had another arrow in his quiver. "Section ten point five three of the Rules of Order states that the Minister of Magic shall not in any way attempt to hamper, delay, or halt the pursuit of justice for the accused." Fudge, Mr. Malfoy, and the witch frowned. Featherstone held up a folded paper. "I have here a letter from Cornelius Fudge to one Madeleine Jenkins, instructing her to keep Thornby versus the Magical Peoples of Britain from coming before the court at all costs."
Fudge's eyes went wide. The witch's face turned so red that Harry knew she must be Madeleine Jenkins. "How dare you!" she sputtered. "If you have gone through my office, I swear –"
"You really should burn incriminating documents instead of merely tossing them in the dustbin," Featherstone said smoothly. Madeleine Jenkins gaped like a fish. "Shall I read the letter for the court?"
"That won't be necessary," the witch said quickly. She glanced at an older, graying witch who was sitting front and center on the bench. Harry recognized her from the Gala; it was Amelia Bones.
"If you have withdrawn your block on the case, as I assume you have, then I will not pursue this matter," said Madam Bones. A small smile was playing about her lips. Harry thought she looked very pleased indeed.
A middle-aged wizard seated in the front stood up. "All those in favor of allowing the case to move forward, say aye."
"Aye," said a good third of the Wizengamot, including Madam Bones.
Madeleine Jenkins glanced at Fudge, who was trying to nod vigorously and subtly at the same time. "Aye," she said petulantly. Once she had spoken, another third of the witches and wizards quickly said "Aye". Many of them looked in Harry's direction as they spoke. The final third reluctantly concurred, each person voicing their agreement as one instead of as a group.
"This is well," said Madam Bones. "It is not wise to ignore the court's previous rulings without a law to back you up." The witches and wizards who had waited until the last to agree glared at her back.
Harry and Ron glanced briefly at one another. The worried look on Ron's face reflected what Harry was feeling in his heart. If the Wizengamot was this divided, how would justice ever be done?
Madam Bones looked down at Professor McGonagall. "You have won the point," she said, and there was a real smile on her face now. She leaned over to speak to a young man sitting beside her who was wearing a set of black and white robes. The man nodded and quickly left the room.
Professor McGonagall graciously inclined her head, and she and Featherstone moved off to the right of the chair. Featherstone beckoned Harry and Ron to come forward, and they stood off to Professor McGonagall's right side.
Harry assumed that they were waiting for Professor Thornby to be brought in. He and Ron tried to stand as still as the two adults, but it was harder than it looked. Harry settled for letting his eyes wander around the room. Madam Bones was conferring with the old, balding wizard sitting on her left. The other members of the Wizengamot were murmuring among themselves. Harry was surprised to see that most of them looked either at Professor McGonagall or at him. Some smiled gravely, some looked uncertain, and others seemed angry. Harry couldn't quite believe it, but nearly everyone who didn't seem glad to see him flinched away when he met their eyes. Maybe there was something to what Dumbledore and McGonagall had said after all.
On the other side of the room, Fudge and Mr. Malfoy were arguing heatedly while Percy looked on. For a moment, Harry's and Percy's gazes locked. Harry was surprised at how blankly Percy regarded him, almost as if he were a stranger that Percy had never met before.
A brass bell above one of the side doors clanged loudly, and all talking ceased. The young man in black and white came through the door and announced, "Celeste Thornby of Hogwarts."
The old wizard next to Madam Bones stood up. "Let the accused come forward," he intoned.
Two dementors entered with Professor Thornby between them. She walked to the chained chair, sat down, and rested her hands upon the arms. The chains twitched, but did not rise to bind her.
Several members of the Wizengamot raised their eyebrows, but for what reason, Harry didn't know. Fudge stepped forward and addressed them. "This woman is accused of a crime of the first order," he said. "I respectfully submit that she should be bound."
The old wizard nodded. "Agreed." He looked to the young man in black and white. "Decker, if you would –"
But Fudge had already raised his wand and pointed at the chair. "Evincio!" In the blink of an eye the chains wrapped themselves around Professor Thornby's chest and arms, slithering like snakes, binding her to the chair. It was very quick, and the links jerked her backwards so that she was tightly constrained against the chair back. Harry and Ron winced at the rough treatment.
The old wizard frowned as he sat down, and Madam Bones' eyes threw sparks. "Minister Fudge, I shall direct the handling of the prisoner from now on," she said. Fudge bowed his head slightly and stepped back. Harry couldn't help glaring at the Minister, and apparently Ron couldn't help it either.
Harry wasn't sure what he expected Professor Thornby to look like after six weeks in Azkaban, but this wasn't it. Her hair was washed and brushed, though it hung loosely about her shoulders. Her robes were unadorned, ill fitting, and gray, but they were clean as well. At first she stared straight ahead at nothing, but after a few seconds she blinked and looked over at Harry, Ron, and Professor McGonagall. Recognition flitted across her pale face and her mouth curved into a tiny smile as she gazed at each one of them in turn, her eyes coming to rest upon Harry last of all.
"If it pleases the Wizengamot, I request that Professor Thornby's voice be returned to her so that she may assert her innocence," said Professor McGonagall.
"The Ministry of Magic objects to said request," said Fudge. "The voice was legally confiscated according to Decree number one thousand, one hundred and twenty-three."
"A decree written and ratified in secret," scoffed Professor McGonagall. "This abuse of power can be struck down by the Wizengamot."
"It was designed to protect the magical people of Britain from a threat against which they cannot defend themselves –"
"It was a thinly veiled effort to leash any person that you cannot otherwise control," Professor McGonagall said icily. Her face had gone very hard. Harry knew that look all too well. Fudge was glaring at her from across the room. Clearly he had not expected her to stand up to him. Personally, Harry thought that anyone who underestimated the deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts was a fool.
Fudge smoothed his expression again. "Singers inspire the same fear that people associate with vampires and werewolves," he said blithely. "Imprisoning them is a preemptive strike against a future Singers' War. It is my administration's belief that the talent should be culled from the population for the good of all."
Harry's mouth fell open. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Where did Fudge get the nerve? Next to him, he could see Ron staring goggle-eyed at the Wizengamot. Professor McGonagall drew herself up to her full height, her eyes flashing with indignation. Fudge, it seemed, was about to feel the full force of her wrath.
"Do not insult my intelligence," she said in a ringing tone. "Do you really expect anyone to support this proposed genocide? I am no simpleton. The timing of this law was no accident. You did not suddenly develop this concern for the welfare of your fellow citizens out of the blue, the very day before Professor Thornby revealed herself in order to save Ronald Weasley's life!" All eyes turned to Ron for a moment, who swallowed hard at the sudden scrutiny.
Fudge made a sound like an angry bull. "I resent what you are implying, madam –"
"I imply nothing. I am saying it outright! Your tactics disgust me!"
Fudge's faction in the Wizengamot began shouting angrily. Fudge opened his mouth to retort, but Madam Bones held up a hand. "That will be enough," she said evenly. "The Wizengamot will not be ruling on the decrees involving Singers today. That being said, I am going to return the accused's voice to her for a brief time only so that she may enter her plea." Fudge's supporters grumbled, but no one challenged her.
"In that case, I propose a safeguard," Fudge said smoothly.
Lucius Malfoy stepped forward. "We cannot trust the prisoner not to try and escape once her voice is restored," he said. "A single note could render us all helpless. Therefore, the Minister suggests the use of this." He raised his arm to show a stiff brass circle clutched in one fist. The metal was worked into two sinuous, out-of-phase waves. Harry took one look at the eager sneer on Mr. Malfoy's face and stuck his hand into his pocket. He closed his fist around the medallion and concentrated on the feel of the sunrays sticking into his skin.
"We strongly object to the use of such an object," said Featherstone. "The degradation Professor Thornby would experience is extreme, and the precaution is unnecessary."
"Is this claim true?" said a witch from the bench. "Could she simply open her mouth and overpower us all with one cry?"
"Judging from what I have read about Singers, this is an exaggeration," said a wizard near the back.
"Hogwarts School is asserting her benevolent nature, but who can say what darkness lurks in her heart?" said another wizard. "Azkaban may have amplified previous ill intentions."
The members of the Wizengamot went on this way for a minute or two before the old wizard on Madam Bones' left interrupted. "I wish to hear how the accused feels about this," he said, and the assembly grew quiet.
Mr. Malfoy approached Professor Thornby in the chair. He held out the collar. "Show your good faith," he said. "If you harbor no ill will toward us, you won't object."
"A child could see through your sophomoric arguments, Lucius," said Professor McGonagall. "This is no mere trinket – it is meant to subjugate and humiliate!"
"What say you?" insisted Mr. Malfoy.
Professor Thornby pressed herself against the back of the chair and shook her head vehemently. She stared at the Constrictor as if it were a live viper.
"Give it to me," said Madam Bones.
Lucius Malfoy blinked in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"
Madam Bones stretched out her hand and raised one eyebrow. "Now, Lucius."
"This is my personal possession!" Mr. Malfoy said angrily.
"And you have no authority in this courtroom," said Madam Bones. She beckoned with her fingers.
Mr. Malfoy's lip curled, but he handed over the Constrictor. "Thank you," Madam Bones said dryly. She handed it to Decker. "Destroy it."
The dissenting members of the Wizengamot began muttering angrily. "Just a minute!" shouted Mr. Malfoy, but Madam Bones steamrolled right over him.
"You were seen buying this piece of filth in Knockturn Alley from a merchant who should know better than to let his face see the light of day!" she barked, rising from her seat. "Mere association with this man is grounds to have your entire manor searched!"
Lucius Malfoy turned pale. "I can assure you, madam, that I had no idea I was dealing with any person of such ill repute –"
"Then you shall accept, as punishment for your ignorance, the destruction of your property," Madam Bones said coldly. "You should know that I find this purchase despicable, no matter who you thought was selling it." Several members of the Wizengamot were staring at her as if they had never seen her before. All of Fudge's supporters were silent.
Mr. Malfoy's face was twisted with fury and disbelief, but he had no choice but to acquiesce. Professor Thornby sighed with relief. Harry and Ron smirked at each other. Professor McGonagall stood ramrod straight with a grim, satisfied smile on her face.
"The Wizengamot will stipulate that there is no way to know what Professor Thornby's intentions are," said Madam Bones. "That being said, precautions will be taken to ensure that no escape is attempted." She crooked her fingers and the two dementors glided forward again to stand on either side of the chair. Professor Thornby shuddered and closed her eyes. They were terribly close by, and Harry's scar throbbed dully. He resisted the urge to rub his forehead and gripped the medallion a little tighter.
"Give me the trap," said Madam Bones, and Mr. Malfoy reluctantly produced it. Madam Bones flipped open the lid and sounds drifted forth. They were the same snippets of song and speech that Harry had heard when the voice had first been taken.
"Restoras vocis!" said Madam Bones, pointing her wand at Professor Thornby. Harry heard the voice drift forward from the bench toward the chair, and a moment later his guardian's eyes widened. A slow smile crept across her face.
"Celeste Thornby," said the old wizard, "you have been brought before the Wizengamot to answer the charges of espionage, conspiracy, and endangerment of underage wizards that have been brought against you by the Ministry of Magic." Harry frowned. The charges made absolutely no sense. "You are now called to assert your guilt or innocence. To the charge of espionage, how do you plead?"
"Not guilty," said Professor Thornby with a rapturous look on her face.
"To the charge of conspiracy with dark wizards and creatures, how do you plead?"
"Not guilty."
"To the charge of endangerment of underage wizards, how do you plead?"
"Not guilty." She made a noise that sounded like the beginning of a laugh. Harry didn't understand how anyone could feel like laughing with two dementors nearby, but she looked ready to do it.
"Let the record show that the accused has answered not guilty on all counts," finished the old wizard.
"So be it," said Madam Bones. She pointed her wand at Professor Thornby again.
Professor Thornby's joyous smile vanished. "Don't," she pleaded. Professor McGonagall's expression grew sad as she watched.
"I must, child," said Madam Bones. "Intertias vocis!"
A moment later the voice was securely stowed in the box again. Professor Thornby looked utterly crushed.
"Celeste Thornby, you are hereby returned to the custody of the dementors until you are tried before the Wizengamot," said the old wizard.
One of the dementors stretched out a cold gray hand and touched Professor Thornby's arm. The chains that bound her fell away with loud clanks. She stood and allowed herself to be guided out of the room. She never looked back at Harry or any of his companions; the lost look in her eyes told him that she was miles away.
Professor McGonagall drew a deep breath. "I would like to thank the Wizengamot for righting this wrong," she said quietly. "When will she stand trial?"
Madam Bones looked down at Professor McGonagall with obvious sympathy. "I assure you that after this grievous error, the Wizengamot will do its best to expedite the process. However, we will not abandon our previous commitments. Per the Rules of Order, the date shall be set within the month and will not be more than sixty days from today. I will send word to Albus Dumbledore as soon as it is done."
Professor McGonagall inclined her head graciously. "Madam Bones," she said. "Minister." And with that, she turned to leave. Harry, Ron, and Featherstone moved to follow. Harry could feel the weight of dozens of considering eyes on his back as he left. He spared one last glance at Fudge and his entourage before passing out of the room, and was struck once again by how dispassionately Percy looked back at him. Harry could only suppose that Percy really had forsaken his family in favor of power. He felt awful for Ron, who was casting hurt glances at his brother.
The hallway outside felt warm after the cold and damp of the chamber. The sound of the heavy door banging shut echoed down the stone hallway. Professor McGonagall leaned one shoulder against the wall and rubbed at her eyes as if massaging a headache. "You both behaved very well," she said to Harry and Ron. "Ten points each to Gryffindor."
"Fudge is horrible," spat Ron. "I really wanted to slug him."
"So did I, frankly," said Professor McGonagall. "But we neither of us did, and that's what counts. This, however, is not a good place to vent your frustrations about the Minister of Magic." She turned to Featherstone. "Thank you, Calvin. We couldn't have done this without you."
"Anything for Albus Dumbledore," Featherstone said gravely. "Tell him that I am working on the matter of the decrees themselves. If the Wizengamot strikes them down, there will be no legal basis for holding your professor." He pulled a scroll of parchment from his voluminous sleeve. "Kingsley asked me to give you this."
Professor McGonagall took the scroll. "I will pass it on," she said. With that, she and Featherstone both turned and walked up the spiral staircase. Harry and Ron followed, and when they passed through the foggy archway and back into the rotunda, Featherstone left without another word.
"Friendly bloke, isn't he?" said Ron.
"Calvin is serious to a fault, but he has a brilliant legal mind," said Professor McGonagall.
Harry frowned. Something was different from when they had first walked into the Ministry of Magic. After a moment's thought he realized that it was very quiet save for the whispers that echoed around the cavernous room. Witches and wizards were standing still, watching the three of them. Harry looked up at the spidery walkways and saw scores of people gazing down.
Professor McGonagall smiled serenely. "Walk on either side of me," she said quietly. "Keep pace; you'll look more important than if you walk behind." She walked across the marble floor with her head held high, looking for all the world as if she owned the whole building. Harry and Ron walked beside her, trying to mimic her arrogant stride. They strode out of the heavy brass doors side by side. Professor McGonagall casually waved her wand without looking back, and the doors slammed home with a deafening crash. "The medallion please, Potter," said Professor McGonagall. A moment later it was recharmed, and the three of them were winging back to Hogwarts.
A/N: Vide credeque: See and believe