Title: Wisdom From The Dark 03
Author: Jyrnn
Spoilers: All four books.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor any of its characters. They are the sole intellectual property of J. K. Rowling and Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. I gain no monetary reward for this exercise and do not intend any copyright infringement.
Summery: A child has suffered enough, an intruder encounters unexpected resistance, and the careless words of Voldemort have the most unexpected results. Harry Potter is about to take a stand.
Chapter 3: Bars of Lies and Walls of Red Tape Do a Prison Make
Arthur Weasley was angry. Now he was not one who normally was given to bouts of rage but with a boss like Cornelius Fudge one can hardly blame him. It seems that his personal assistant, Gavin Falstaff had infiltrated Harry Potter's home, under cover of darkness and who knew what black sorcery, in the traditional disguise of a Death Eater. When this news had reached the ears of the Minister he had ordered a complete news black out and wisked both Falstaff and young Harry off for "protective custody." All he could get from the Minster before the Floo gate was closed in his face was that this was a "sensitive issue and needed to be treated with due discretion." Arthur did not know what irked him more, that Fudge was so blatantly hushing up his aide's status as a Death Eater or that he had taken Harry away.
He'd been first man in the door to Privet Drive after the initial Aurors. After Ginny had that close call with the Chamber of Secrets Arthur had requested his name be but on the list of watch dogs who were to be alerted when Privet was invaded. He felt he owed it to the boy who had saved his daughter and who and nothing himself. Not a wizards debt in the traditional sense, but a fathers debt nonetheless. So it was for this reason that when the wards had been breeched by Falstaff's incursion Arthur had immediately Apparated to Surrey. When he finally got a look at Harry, after examining the damage inflicted upon Fudge's aide, he was shocked that boy appeared neither scared nor shocked. It was almost surreal how calm the boy took the questions of the aurors. To Arthur it had seemed that that thrice damned tournament had purged Harry of any childishness that he possessed.
For not the first time he ran a hand through his thinning hair and moaned in exasperation. Just before sunrise Fudge's cabal of lawyers had swooped in and from there on he had been unreachable. Fudge had something brewing and Arthur didn't like it. No man needed this many lawyers for simple and easy charge, Fudge was busy and things were about to get difficult. Arthur sighed and looked at the clock, half past six. If he hurried home he could eat and dart back with a full stomach before had to witness the unpleasantness forming on the horizon.
***
The inquisitor was rapping his fingers on the cold steal table. Every three seconds his thick fingers beat out a simple triple beat and then he would stop. He was waiting for an answer to a question Harry couldn't remember him asking. With a languid twist of his tired head Harry took in his surroundings. Cold and dull, the metallic interrogation room of the Ministry was a testament to sterile decorating. The sheer immaculate cleanliness painted an austere picture, designed to portray both the power and resolve of the British wizarding government. As he pondered this, Harry noticed that the questioners triple beat at increased in frequency. He was impatient.
Through a sigh Harry asked the man to repeat his question. With an arch brow and a disapproving stare he repeated, "Mr. Potter, why did you feel it necessary to assault the Minster's aide? I remind you that any further resistance can been viewed as obstruction of Justice. It is best, for your own sake, that you give me a statement." The man leaned forward and rested his face on his interlaced fingers, his tinted spectacles gleaming diabolically in the magically simulated halogen light of the room.
The man's condescending manner had irked Harry through out the course of the interview. He had sat here the past four hours without break, listening as this man Dawkins spun elaborate lie after lie explaining why poor Harry Potter had "snapped. Harry finally lost his patience and responded coldly, "If the man who invaded my relatives' home dressed as a Death Eater was Gavin Falstaff, then I was defending myself." By means of reply Dawkins merely gave a sorrowful tsking noise
"I'm afraid if you persist with these wild allegations I can not help you." He made a show of examining the file in front of him as if he really gave damn about Harry. "Official reports about the assault and the sworn statements of THREE Ministry officials deny any evidence of so-called Death Eater activity. Your spewing smoke Mr. Potter and your fame is not going to let you escape this time." Dawkins leaned over the space intervening between Harry and himself. His face bore a slight smile but his eyes shone with malice. "I have made a career out of using liars' words against them. Your out your element, Mr. Potter and I suggest you rethink your story. Is it possible that Majordomo Falstaff caught you in the act of underage wizardry or perhaps tormenting your muggle cousin?" He sat back, seemingly satisfied that his words had intimated the fifteen year old.
Harry's response was unexpected. "Which three?"
Flustered, Dawkins lost his calculate poise and stammered, "W-What?"
Harry responded with a flat voice saying, "Which three officials?"
He flushed with surprise at the sudden shift in conversation. Flipping through the reports in front of him he managed to unearth the correct document. "Err...Avery, Boot and Nott. Impecable reputations and valued officers of the Ministry." These words seemed to reassure him and he drew strength from them. Harry's eyes had widened at the second name and Dawkins mistook that as sign of fear. "Well Potter, the evidence against you is without blemish. Anything to say now. Hmm?"
Harry swallowed a rising surge of bile of bile in his throat. Death Eaters were covering for Death Eaters at the ministry. He could be surrounded by enemies and not know it. "I think I need to speak with a lawyer before I say anything more." After that he fell silent and looked intensely at Dawkins.
"Well, if that's they way you feel I'm afraid your non-compliance does not bode well for your case Mr. Potter." With that Dawkins rose and donned a mask of pity, yet inside he shook with triumph. *I got the little brat scared now.* Instead of this though he said in way of parting, "Good Day, Mr. Potter." This type of verbal dominance was the reason for Malcolm Dawkins lived. *Yes sir, a fine mornings work, Potter will fold by dinner and then Fudge will owe me big-time.* His self-assured plans aside, he could help but be unnerved by the piercing stare of his quarry. *Boys just too calm to be innocent*
***
Percy Weasley was tried. After last springs debacle with Minster Crouch and his futile effort at running the Department of International Magical Co-Operation, Percy had been quietly shunted off into Magical Law. Assigned the unenviably position of Public Defender he had spent the last nine weeks defending everyone from thieves to hobgoblins. Albeit the position was indeed a promotion, he hardly got see his family or Penny anymore. News of raid had called him in early this morning. Not because he wanted to awaken before dawn but because he was the only PD on call. It was with a heavy heart and a drowsy visage that Percy Weasley stumbled into the office. Nine weeks on twenty four hour call while that bint Miss Langley (emphasis on the Miss) was off traipsing across the continent and Counselor McTavish was on "sabbatical" with his fishing rod up in the Lake District. He was so drained he hadn't had time to lord his newly earned position over Ron. In this state he loped into the Ministry building seeking a caffeinated embrace.
Two cups later, Percy was a new man. Alert and focused, his agendas didn't seem so full and the day didn't seem all that bad. Heartened so, it was odd when he saw the new name on his docket. A mouthful of hot coffee spewed forth on the offending document which informed Percy Weasley of his new client. A client whom he had to defend from an outrageous number of charges before the day was out. He gave a garbled shout as he rubbed the parchment clean with the cuff of his robe. "Harry POtter!"
End 2
R/R
Author: Jyrnn
Spoilers: All four books.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor any of its characters. They are the sole intellectual property of J. K. Rowling and Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. I gain no monetary reward for this exercise and do not intend any copyright infringement.
Summery: A child has suffered enough, an intruder encounters unexpected resistance, and the careless words of Voldemort have the most unexpected results. Harry Potter is about to take a stand.
Chapter 3: Bars of Lies and Walls of Red Tape Do a Prison Make
Arthur Weasley was angry. Now he was not one who normally was given to bouts of rage but with a boss like Cornelius Fudge one can hardly blame him. It seems that his personal assistant, Gavin Falstaff had infiltrated Harry Potter's home, under cover of darkness and who knew what black sorcery, in the traditional disguise of a Death Eater. When this news had reached the ears of the Minister he had ordered a complete news black out and wisked both Falstaff and young Harry off for "protective custody." All he could get from the Minster before the Floo gate was closed in his face was that this was a "sensitive issue and needed to be treated with due discretion." Arthur did not know what irked him more, that Fudge was so blatantly hushing up his aide's status as a Death Eater or that he had taken Harry away.
He'd been first man in the door to Privet Drive after the initial Aurors. After Ginny had that close call with the Chamber of Secrets Arthur had requested his name be but on the list of watch dogs who were to be alerted when Privet was invaded. He felt he owed it to the boy who had saved his daughter and who and nothing himself. Not a wizards debt in the traditional sense, but a fathers debt nonetheless. So it was for this reason that when the wards had been breeched by Falstaff's incursion Arthur had immediately Apparated to Surrey. When he finally got a look at Harry, after examining the damage inflicted upon Fudge's aide, he was shocked that boy appeared neither scared nor shocked. It was almost surreal how calm the boy took the questions of the aurors. To Arthur it had seemed that that thrice damned tournament had purged Harry of any childishness that he possessed.
For not the first time he ran a hand through his thinning hair and moaned in exasperation. Just before sunrise Fudge's cabal of lawyers had swooped in and from there on he had been unreachable. Fudge had something brewing and Arthur didn't like it. No man needed this many lawyers for simple and easy charge, Fudge was busy and things were about to get difficult. Arthur sighed and looked at the clock, half past six. If he hurried home he could eat and dart back with a full stomach before had to witness the unpleasantness forming on the horizon.
***
The inquisitor was rapping his fingers on the cold steal table. Every three seconds his thick fingers beat out a simple triple beat and then he would stop. He was waiting for an answer to a question Harry couldn't remember him asking. With a languid twist of his tired head Harry took in his surroundings. Cold and dull, the metallic interrogation room of the Ministry was a testament to sterile decorating. The sheer immaculate cleanliness painted an austere picture, designed to portray both the power and resolve of the British wizarding government. As he pondered this, Harry noticed that the questioners triple beat at increased in frequency. He was impatient.
Through a sigh Harry asked the man to repeat his question. With an arch brow and a disapproving stare he repeated, "Mr. Potter, why did you feel it necessary to assault the Minster's aide? I remind you that any further resistance can been viewed as obstruction of Justice. It is best, for your own sake, that you give me a statement." The man leaned forward and rested his face on his interlaced fingers, his tinted spectacles gleaming diabolically in the magically simulated halogen light of the room.
The man's condescending manner had irked Harry through out the course of the interview. He had sat here the past four hours without break, listening as this man Dawkins spun elaborate lie after lie explaining why poor Harry Potter had "snapped. Harry finally lost his patience and responded coldly, "If the man who invaded my relatives' home dressed as a Death Eater was Gavin Falstaff, then I was defending myself." By means of reply Dawkins merely gave a sorrowful tsking noise
"I'm afraid if you persist with these wild allegations I can not help you." He made a show of examining the file in front of him as if he really gave damn about Harry. "Official reports about the assault and the sworn statements of THREE Ministry officials deny any evidence of so-called Death Eater activity. Your spewing smoke Mr. Potter and your fame is not going to let you escape this time." Dawkins leaned over the space intervening between Harry and himself. His face bore a slight smile but his eyes shone with malice. "I have made a career out of using liars' words against them. Your out your element, Mr. Potter and I suggest you rethink your story. Is it possible that Majordomo Falstaff caught you in the act of underage wizardry or perhaps tormenting your muggle cousin?" He sat back, seemingly satisfied that his words had intimated the fifteen year old.
Harry's response was unexpected. "Which three?"
Flustered, Dawkins lost his calculate poise and stammered, "W-What?"
Harry responded with a flat voice saying, "Which three officials?"
He flushed with surprise at the sudden shift in conversation. Flipping through the reports in front of him he managed to unearth the correct document. "Err...Avery, Boot and Nott. Impecable reputations and valued officers of the Ministry." These words seemed to reassure him and he drew strength from them. Harry's eyes had widened at the second name and Dawkins mistook that as sign of fear. "Well Potter, the evidence against you is without blemish. Anything to say now. Hmm?"
Harry swallowed a rising surge of bile of bile in his throat. Death Eaters were covering for Death Eaters at the ministry. He could be surrounded by enemies and not know it. "I think I need to speak with a lawyer before I say anything more." After that he fell silent and looked intensely at Dawkins.
"Well, if that's they way you feel I'm afraid your non-compliance does not bode well for your case Mr. Potter." With that Dawkins rose and donned a mask of pity, yet inside he shook with triumph. *I got the little brat scared now.* Instead of this though he said in way of parting, "Good Day, Mr. Potter." This type of verbal dominance was the reason for Malcolm Dawkins lived. *Yes sir, a fine mornings work, Potter will fold by dinner and then Fudge will owe me big-time.* His self-assured plans aside, he could help but be unnerved by the piercing stare of his quarry. *Boys just too calm to be innocent*
***
Percy Weasley was tried. After last springs debacle with Minster Crouch and his futile effort at running the Department of International Magical Co-Operation, Percy had been quietly shunted off into Magical Law. Assigned the unenviably position of Public Defender he had spent the last nine weeks defending everyone from thieves to hobgoblins. Albeit the position was indeed a promotion, he hardly got see his family or Penny anymore. News of raid had called him in early this morning. Not because he wanted to awaken before dawn but because he was the only PD on call. It was with a heavy heart and a drowsy visage that Percy Weasley stumbled into the office. Nine weeks on twenty four hour call while that bint Miss Langley (emphasis on the Miss) was off traipsing across the continent and Counselor McTavish was on "sabbatical" with his fishing rod up in the Lake District. He was so drained he hadn't had time to lord his newly earned position over Ron. In this state he loped into the Ministry building seeking a caffeinated embrace.
Two cups later, Percy was a new man. Alert and focused, his agendas didn't seem so full and the day didn't seem all that bad. Heartened so, it was odd when he saw the new name on his docket. A mouthful of hot coffee spewed forth on the offending document which informed Percy Weasley of his new client. A client whom he had to defend from an outrageous number of charges before the day was out. He gave a garbled shout as he rubbed the parchment clean with the cuff of his robe. "Harry POtter!"
End 2
R/R