A/N - IMPORTANT - This is not the last chapter. It was supposed to be but it grew and grew until it just became too ridiculously long to make as one single chapter. So this is part one of the last chapter, the second part will be out soon. Also, there is going to be a sequel. It's called 'The Reason'. If you haven't heard the song The Reason by Hoobastank then I suggest you have a listen. It's perfect for Draco's situation.
How could this man I thought I knew
Turn out to be unjust, so cruel?
Could only see the good in you
Pretended not to see the truth
I tried to hide myself through living in denial
But in the end you'll see
You-Won't-Stop-Me!
Harry pushed open the window shutters and closed his eyes as a biting wind blew across his face, lifting his hair and tossing the dark strands in every direction. He opened his eyes and placed his hands on the sill, leaning his upper body forward and through, into the open air.
A chilling wind was howling around the stone turrets of the castle. The sky was grey and black, the threatening presence of a storm hanging in the electrically charged air.
The contact with fresh air was refreshing and Harry smiled up at the rumbling sky, even as his heart pounded uncomfortably fast in his chest.
He grabbed his cloak from the chair at his side and clasped it around his shoulders. Underneath he wore a grey jumper and black trousers, along with a heavy pair of black boots. He safely tucked his wand into the waistband of his trousers then leaned out the window one last time, taking in great lungfuls of the cold December air to calm his racing nerves.
"Are you ready, Harry?"
Harry turned and swallowed nervously as he nodded.
Ron smiled reassuringly. "I'll wait outside."
Harry turned back to the open window and placed one hand over the wrinkled note hidden away in his cloak. He didn't have to look at the note anymore to remember exactly what it said, and he spoke the words aloud as he stared up at the sky above.
"Life is a journey; it can take you anywhere you choose to go. As long as you're learning, you'll find all you'll ever need to know. Be strong – you'll break it. Hold on – you'll make it. Just don't forsake it because no one can tell you what you can't do. When there's no one else, look inside yourself. Like your oldest friend, just trust the voice within. Then you'll find the strength that will guide your way. You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within."
Harry sighed and reluctantly closed the shutters.
The note had been delivered to him late last night by Hedwig with no signature attached, but he knew that it was from Draco. The silver-haired Slytherin had been noticeably absent since their conversation in the infirmary two nights ago, and Harry was grateful to Draco for giving him some space and some much-needed time alone. He appreciated the note and knew the blond was frustrated because he couldn't attend the hearing himself. Harry had put the parchment in his pocket as a comforting boost to his waning confidence.
With one last look around the empty infirmary Harry turned and walked out through the door to start what would undoubtedly be a very tense journey towards the Ministry of Magic and Courtroom Ten.
Harry walked between Ron and Hermione as they strode across the large Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. He remained quiet as Mr and Mrs Weasley signed them all in and handed round the visitor badges.
Harry glanced around the busy hall packed full of harried-looking witches and wizards, his eyes landing on the giant gold fountain in the centre of the room.
"Hang on a sec," Harry said. He turned and jogged over to the splashing fountain, stopping in front of it and looking up into the shining faces of the gold statues.
"I'll put in all the money I have on me if you help me out again and make this as quick and painless as possible, okay?" he asked, telepathically sending his message to the dancing figures.
Ron and Hermione joined him on either side, the three of them gazing up at the spouting fountain together.
"I guess they put this thing back together again after you smashed it up last year," Ron commented.
"It wasn't only me," Harry corrected, still staring into the golden faces. "Dumbledore had a hand in it, too."
"And Bellatrix," Hermione added.
"Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry murmured quietly.
Ron and Hermione tore their eyes from the fountain to glance worriedly at Harry.
"It's time to go," Mr Weasley announced, stepping up behind the three.
"Right..." Harry answered vaguely. He turned and walked towards the large golden gates.
The rest followed behind him as they all walked through the gates and stood waiting for a lift, none of them saying a word, not even Mrs Weasley who seemed pre-occupied with wringing her hands and darting worried glances in Harry's direction.
The other Ministry workers around them began to whisper and point.
By now the trial had become highly publicized, it was in every wizarding paper and the topic of most conversations. The information the public knew was sketchy at best, only a select few were privy to the knowledge that Harry had been abused, and only Harry knew the exact details what he had suffered. He still refused to talk about it to anyone.
The public only knew that the Lestrange's son had been arrested for trying to kill the Boy-Who-Lived and for murdering two, yet undisclosed, wizards and was facing a life sentence in Azkaban because of it.
Harry tried to ignore the whispering and stared hard at the toes of his boots. He could faintly hear Ron and Hermione arguing quietly about something behind him.
Mr Weasley put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Harry flinched at the physical contact but quickly looked up to give Mr Weasley a wobbly smile of gratitude.
The lift finally arrived and the golden grille slid back to let them enter.
Harry noticed Hermione and Ron hanging back to make sure no one else got on the lift with them. He would've laughed at his friends for behaving like make-shift bodyguards if the situation hadn't been so serious and if he hadn't been feeling so nauseous.
The lift rattled and shook as it descended one level.
"Department of Mysteries."
Harry's stomach lurched as that coolly familiar voice announced their stop. The grille slid open with a resounding clang and Harry was left staring out at the bare hallway as the rest of the group filed past.
His heart was beating so fast he thought it would burst, his breath coming in short panicked gasps.
"Harry?" Hermione turned and saw his terrified expression.
Harry shook his head and backed up against the far wall of the lift.
"Harry, dear-"
"No, mum," Ron interrupted. "You and dad go on ahead; we'll be along in a minute.
Mr Weasley gently took his wife's arm and began to lead her away down the flight of stairs to the left, giving his youngest son a nod and a look that clearly said, 'take all the time you need.'
"I can't do this," Harry whispered as his two friends cautiously entered the lift once more.
"Yes, you can, Harry," Hermione encouraged.
Harry shook his head, still staring wide-eyed out the door.
"Are you still here?"
Harry blinked and stared at Hermione, thinking she had lost her marbles.
Then a muffled 'yeah' was spoken aloud that definitely hadn't come from either Ron or himself.
"What..." Harry trailed off in confusion as Hermione shut the grille and punched the emergency stop button to keep the lift from moving.
Harry gaped in shock as the air in front of him shimmered and Draco's head appeared from beneath the hood of an invisibility cloak.
"Draco," Harry gasped in astonishment. "What...how..."
Draco smiled slightly and shrugged. "I couldn't just sit around the school going mad wondering what was going on over here, so I decided to come along."
"You knew about this?" Harry asked Hermione incredulously.
"Yes, but it wasn't my idea,' she hurried to explain.
"Yeah, but it was your idea for him to use Harry's cloak," Ron teased.
Harry smiled bemusedly.
Ron noticed Harry's smile with relief.
"Do you think you're ready now?" he decided to ask.
Harry's smile quickly disappeared. "No, I...no..."
"Harry," Draco addressed gently. "Did you read that note that I sent you?"
"Yeah, it's in my pocket."
"It is?" The corners of Draco's mouth lifted slightly as the pit of his stomach filled with a pleasant warm feeling. "Do you remember what it says?"
"Yes."
"Do you know where I got that message from?"
Harry shook his head.
"Your mother."
"My..." Harry placed one hand over the pocket of the concealed note. "What do you mean?"
"She wrote it in Professor Snape's yearbook the day they graduated. I saw it a long time ago when I was snooping around Snape's office and I copied it down because I liked it so much. I thought maybe it might help you somehow. I dunno...maybe it was a dumb idea."
"No," Harry said. "No, it was very...thoughtful."
Draco smiled in relief.
Harry reached inside his pocket and fondly stroked the parchment with his fingers.
'...you'll find the strength that will guide your way. You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within.'
Harry swallowed and straightened his shoulders.
"Okay, I'm ready."
Harry saw a tall wizard in uniform standing guard as he approached the imposing door of Courtroom Ten. He flashed him his visitor's badge and the guard's eyes widened as he leaned forward to read the name.
"In you go, Mr Potter," the guard instructed, some-what flustered. "They're waiting for you."
Harry took a deep breath and walked inside. His eyes immediately darted to the chair in the centre of the room, the one with heavy chains and shackles attached to it, and saw with relief that it was empty.
He wondered briefly if he was supposed to sit there, then Mr Weasley came over and led him and Hermione and Ron, and consequently an invisible Draco, over to the lowest row of benches circling the large room.
"You have to sit here, Harry," Mr Weasley instructed, pointing to the bench between more wizarding guards. "We'll be up there."
Harry followed Mr Weasley's pointing finger up and over to the left, and saw the unmistakable red-head of Mrs Weasley sitting on a bench about halfway up.
Harry nodded, mouth dry.
Mr Weasley smiled and turned to climb up towards his wife. Ron and Hermione seemed at a loss for words, and followed Mr Weasley's example of smiling reassuringly before turning to follow behind him. He felt the warm pressure of a hand on his shoulder as Draco walked past to follow the others.
Then he was alone.
He didn't recognize any of the witches and wizards sitting around him at all. He could feel his heart beginning to speed up again and his breathing turning to short gasps.
He quickly tried to distract himself.
He glanced towards the Wizengamot sitting in their plum-coloured robes in front of the centre chair. Fudge was already present and glancing furtively over at Harry as he spoke with a short, blond witch in a pink suit.
Harry didn't like Fudge's expression, and it was obvious that Harry still wasn't his favourite person after humiliating Fudge last year in the press with regards to the legitimacy of his tale of the return of Voldemort.
Harry quickly averted his gaze as now both Fudge and the witch in pink turned to stare his way.
He let his eyes roam the quickly filling benches behind Fudge and let out a gasp of surprise.
There sitting in the official Wizengamot robes was Dumbledore.
Harry felt a small spark of hope that maybe the hearing wouldn't be so bad after all. He had completely forgotten about Dumbledore's reinstatement into the Wizengamot.
He tried to catch the headmaster's eye, but noticed that Dumbledore was busy frowning disapprovingly at Fudge's back. Harry didn't like the look of that and felt his flicker of hope quickly burn out. He didn't feel any better when he noticed that almost every bench was full, save for a wide gap between Ron and Hermione where Draco was undoubtedly sitting.
He still didn't know whether he thought that it was a good idea for Draco to be here or not. He wasn't sure he wanted Draco to hear about what went on between himself and Ethan, even if he did still hold him some-what responsible for it, and yet, a small part of him wanted Draco to hear it and to feel guilty.
"If you could please take your seats, ladies and gentlemen," Fudge directed loudly over the din. "We are ready to start."
An expectant hush immediately settled over the room. The seriousness of the situation not lost on any member of the watching crowd as they felt the tension tight in the air around them.
"Bring him in," Fudge instructed gravely as he sat himself down front-row centre.
Harry tensed as the door opened and two guards appeared, both with a firm grip on either side of their prisoner.
Harry closed his eyes. A faint trembling had started up in his body and he clutched at the bench beneath him, listening helplessly as the sound of three people entered the courtroom and walked purposefully across the stone floor.
Ethan entered the room walking tall and proud; head held high and back straight. He obviously wasn't intimidated by the formal proceedings and eyed the expectant crowd with a haughty expression.
Harry heard the chains magically snake around Ethan's arms and legs and snap into place as he sat in the centre chair. Only then did Harry force himself to open his eyes.
The two guards had retreated to the back, leaving Ethan sitting alone and staring defiantly up at Fudge. Harry looked down at the floor and away from the captive prisoner.
"Let it be noted that this trial is taking place on the tenth of December in front of a full court. We are here concerning the disciplinary hearing of one Ethan Rabastan Lestrange. He is forthwith charged with intent to cause bodily harm and physical abuse to one Harry James Potter."
Harry's cheeks burned as the gathered crowd turned to look at him.
"Are you Ethan Rabastan Lestrange?" he heard Fudge ask.
"Yes."
Harry shivered as Ethan's voice rang out strong and cool.
"How do you plead?"
Ethan turned and stared straight at Harry as his frightened emerald eyes came up to meet him. "Not guilty."
The watching crowd broke out into whispered exclamations of surprise.
Fudge looked startled. "Not guilty?"
Harry felt trapped in those dark mocking eyes, his trembling seemed to double, as did his racing pulse.
Ethan smirked knowingly then turned back to the Minister of Magic. "Not guilty," he repeated calmly.
"A-alright," Fudge acknowledged, still a little surprised. "Would the court please take note that the defendant pleads 'not guilty' to all charges. I would also like to remind the jury that this hearing is for the charges against of physical abuse and is therefore separate from the murder charges - a trial for which will be held in three days time."
Harry's eyes snapped to Fudge, then to Dumbledore as the Minister's words sank in.
Ethan could conceivably get off. Without taking the murder charges into account, given that the jury takes what Fudge said to heart about keeping the two trails separate, then it was simply a case of Harry's word against Ethan's. Madam Pomfrey's medical report could only tell them so much, and not who it was that had abused him, and Harry absolutely refused to go into detail about that. This whole procedure might be for nothing now. He had put himself through hell to get to this point and now it could all be for nothing.
He felt embarrassed and ashamed, and wanted nothing more than to be back by that open window of the school infirmary or alone and safe in his hospital bed.
But he wasn't. And he felt sick to his stomach as Ethan sent another smirk and a wink his way.
"Let's get started then, shall we?" Fudge spoke directly to Ethan. "The charges laid against you are as follows: that you did purposely cause bodily harm to Harry Potter on a number of occasions during the course of approximately two months, and attempted to take his life on the night of December the fourth at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Here, Fudge stopped and peered over the edge of his paper at Ethan.
Ethan merely raised a brow and gazed back unwaveringly.
"Yes, uh..." Fudge cleared his throat. "The court now calls up the accuser - Harry James Potter."
Harry jumped and somehow managed to stumble obediently to his feet. Another chair appeared near Ethan's, only without the chains.
Harry suddenly felt as if his feet were made of lead, he couldn't move, he was completely rooted to the spot.
"It's alright, Harry," Dumbledore spoke up for the first time.
The two guards that had been sitting on either side of Harry stood and firmly took hold of his elbows to lead him forward.
Ethan watched Harry's approach with amusement.
Harry stared down at the floor as he walked towards the centre of the room, refusing to make eye-contact with anyone. He perched on the edge of the wooden chair, his body shifted over to the right side as far away from Ethan as he could get. The two guards retreated back to the bench, leaving Harry alone in the centre with Ethan by his side. He clasped his hands in his lap and determinedly kept his gaze downwards.
"Hello, love," Ethan whispered, causing Harry's skin to crawl as he stared at the floor.
"Are you Harry James Potter?" Fudge questioned.
"Yes," Harry replied inaudibly, acutely aware of Ethan's close proximity.
"Speak up."
"Yes."
"And you hereby agree that the man on your left is in fact Ethan Lestrange and that you wilfully charge him with the crimes previously listed?"
Harry opened his mouth but no sound came out. He could just say no and this whole thing would simply be over, finished, forgotten...
"Mr Potter?"
Harry swallowed and looked up at Fudge's impatient face. His eyes slowly travelled past the portly Minister, up the many levels, and came to rest on his two best friends.
Ron nervously licked his lips as he leaned forward, and Hermione gave him an encouraging nod.
Surprisingly, Harry wished that he could've seen Draco's face in that moment.
He suddenly remembered the note still tucked away in his pocket. He absently reached in to touch the wrinkled parchment and closed his eyes. He thought of his mum and how she was the reason he was still alive today. Her profound words were now forever etched into his mind.
He opened his eyes and took a deep breath – this is it, there's no going back after this.
"Yes."
Fudge nodded, satisfied. "Would you now please describe in full to the jury the nature of your relationship with Mr Lestrange?"
"Okay." Harry swallowed and wished that he had had some water to relieve his suddenly dry throat. "Um, I became friends with...him near the start of term, but we didn't start...er, dating until November."
The crowd broke out into hushed conversations following Harry's admission. Obviously his sexual orientation was news to them.
"Leave it to me to 'out' myself in front of two hundred people including members of the press," Harry's inner voice chirped up sarcastically.
"So you had a consensual relationship with Mr Lestrange?" Fudge inquired.
"Yes."
"So he was your...boyfriend?"
Harry really wished he had that water now. "Yes."
"And when did you break it off with him?"
Uh oh.
"I- I didn't." Harry flushed.
"You never broke up with him even though he was physically harming you?"
"No," Harry admitted quietly.
"Why not?"
"I dunno." Harry shrugged uncomfortably.
Fudge pursed his lips and made a note on his paper.
Harry chanced a glance over to the jury and saw a few of them frowning and shaking their heads.
"And what do you say to that, Mr Lestrange?" Fudge asked, turning to the quiet young man.
"I didn't abuse him," Ethan replied calmly. "But we did become good friends at the start of term, and we would've been dating sooner had he not been seeing someone else at the time."
Harry whipped his head around to stare at Ethan's smug expression.
Luckily Fudge didn't comment, but Harry knew that Ethan had just played his ace.
Dumbledore shifted in his seat.
"So you still claim that you never physically hurt, Mr Potter?" Fudge continued, unawares.
"That's right, I never touched him."
"Mr Potter, please tell us your version of the events of the night of December the fourth."
Harry nodded and tried to get his mind back on the questions at hand. "Well, er...it was late at night and the two of us went to the Great Hall-"
"You went out to meet your boyfriend past curfew?" Fudge asked, superciliously.
"I guess, but-"
"Willingly?"
"Yes, but-"
"Continue."
Harry tried to control his frustration. This was exactly like the last time Fudge had questioned him in this room, and he wasn't even the one on trial this time.
"Well, we went into the Hall and he tied me to a chair and...and he said that he was going to kill me."
"But you escaped. How?"
"Uh..." Harry faltered, glancing at Dumbledore.
"That is not the issue here, Cornelius," Dumbledore put in firmly.
"Very well," Fudge huffed, scribbling some more notes onto his paper. "Were there any other witnesses besides yourself, Mr Potter?"
"No," Harry answered quickly, not daring to look at Ethan.
"What about you, Mr Lestrange?" Fudge asked, turning his attention back to the other boy. "Is that how it happened?"
"No." Ethan smiled. "Harry here left out a few key facts, like how he asked me to kill him." Ethan turned cruel eyes towards Harry. "And there was someone else there."
Harry felt all the blood drain from his face. "Please don't," he whispered.
"Harry Potter asked you to kill him?" Fudge frowned sceptically.
Ethan turned back to the Minister. "Yes."
"Is this true, Mr Potter?"
Harry felt every eye in the room riveted to him.
"Well?"
"Yes," he admitted weakly.
There was a collective gasp and a general explosion of noise from the crowd.
Harry chanced a glance up at Ron and Hermione and saw their shocked faces. Beside them, Mrs Weasley was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Hermione quickly leaned over to whisper something to Draco and laid a restraining hand on his invisible arm.
Ethan took the opportunity to speak to Harry quietly below the noise of the crowd.
"Drop the charges, Potter, and I won't tell them about that blond-haired traitor."
"What do you care?" Harry answered slowly, not quite meeting his eyes. "You're going to be sentenced for murder anyway."
"Maybe, maybe not." Ethan smirked. "Besides, it's the principle of the matter. Do it or I'll take Malfoy down with me."
Before Harry could reply, Fudge managed to call the court back to order.
"Another outburst like that and I will make this a closed hearing," he threatened. "Now, Mr Lestrange-"
Harry jumped to his feet and shot a hand into the air.
"Yes, Mr Potter?" Fudge asked with a hint of exasperation.
"I need a break."
"But we've only just begun."
"I, uh...need to use the washroom."
Fudge sighed. "Very well, court will take a ten minute recess."
Harry breathed out in relief and tried to catch Dumbledore's eye as everyone stood to stretch their legs and chat with their neighbours. Dumbledore gave a tiny nod to show that he saw him, then descended to the floor and headed for the door.
Harry quickly followed.
Dumbledore shut the courtroom door firmly behind them and stood facing Harry in the quiet seclusion of the hallway.
"What is it?"
"Ethan is going to tell everyone about Draco and me and that he was there trying to save me that night if I don't drop the charges," Harry explained in a rush.
"Hmm..." Dumbledore frowned thoughtfully, one hand stroking his long, white beard. "What do you want to do?"
"Me?" Harry asked in surprise. "I don't really have a choice, do I? I'm going to have to drop the charges."
Dumbledore hesitated before speaking. "There is a way you could charge Ethan and keep Mr Malfoy safe."
"How?"
"The court will discount anything Ethan says if you go in there prepared to tell the whole story under the influence of Veritaserum."
"Veritaserum?" Harry swallowed. "But...then they could ask me anything and I'll have to answer."
"Yes, but you have nothing to be frightened of, Harry. The truth can be our most powerful ally."
"I'm not scared, I just...I can't..." Harry turned and leaned against the wall in frustration, his forehead resting against his forearm, eyes closed. "Please don't make me," he whispered.
"No one's going to force you, Harry. It's your decision."
Harry felt as if a steel claw had grabbed a hold of his heart and was slowly squeezing it tighter and tighter. The weight of responsibility and of what was right lay heavy on his shoulders and in his mind. Everything always hung on his decisions. Who was to say which decision was right?
Maybe going to Hogwarts had been the wrong decision. Maybe refusing Malfoy that first day had been wrong. Allowing Cedric to take the Tri-wizard Cup with him was wrong. Maybe allowing himself to become close with Sirius had been wrong, or loving him, or loving Draco, or hoping, or fighting, laughing, crying, wishing...
But Harry knew in his heart that letting revenge and retaliation jade his choices was wrong. He knew that he couldn't leave Draco's fate in the hands of his father or the other Death Eaters if it was discovered that he was a traitor to the Dark Lord. Draco might've been an insufferably cruel bastard, but he wasn't the pure evil that made up Voldemort's minions and hopefully never would. Harry had seen too much of another side to the Slytherin boy, and that was Draco's saving grace in Harry's eyes.
Dumbledore placed one hand on the metal doorknob of Courtroom Ten and waited for Harry to make the next move.
Harry took a deep breath and raised his head from the crook of his arm.
"Alright, I'll do it."
Dumbledore smiled proudly. "I knew you would do the right thing, Harry. You're stronger than you think. You're doing a very noble thing for, Mr Malfoy."
"I'm not doing this for him," Harry said, coldly. "And I'm not doing this to be noble, I'm doing this to get one step closer to bringing down Voldemort. We have precious few spies for our side and we need all the help we can get. We need Draco alive. This has nothing to do with me."
Dumbledore turned the door handle and paused, regarding Harry sadly. "I'm sorry to hear that, Harry. I wish that things had been different for you, I wish so many good things for you, but the fact of the matter is, this is your life and you can't change the past, but the future has yet to be written. Don't let past mistakes ruin what could be. I thought that you more than anyone else would know the pain of realizing that they had made a mistake." He paused thoughtfully. "I guess what I'm saying, Harry, is that you should be doing this for yourself and no one else, and maybe afterwards you will come through it with the ability to see clearly enough to realize what has always been right in front of you."
Harry could only stare in confusion as his headmaster swung open the heavy door with a rusty screech of hinges and disappeared into the courtroom.
Dumbledore's words, although very wise, always left him feeling thoroughly confused.
"I thought he didn't want me and Draco together?" he thought, then blinked in realization. "Maybe he wasn't talking about Draco..."
Harry shook his head and exhaled shakily, the irrevocable force of what was to come suddenly hitting him completely and taking over any other muddled thought occupying his mind. He grabbed the slowly closing door and hauled it open.
He strode back into the room, mustering as much inner strength as he could, and took his seat next to Ethan.
Dumbledore leaned in to converse in low tones with the Minister of Magic. Fudge nodded, his eyes flicking to Harry and back as the headmaster talked in his ear.
Dumbledore finished speaking and settled back down in his seat amongst the rest of the Wizengamot.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Fudge called loudly as he got to his feet. "There will be a change of plans with regards to the procedure of this case."
The audience shifted expectantly and trained curious eyes on the Minister of Magic.
Harry raised his eyes to watch his friend's reactions.
"The accuser – Harry James Potter – has agreed to proceed with the trial under the influence of Veritaserum."
A few excited gasps of surprise sounded from the room.
Ron and Hermione glanced at each other in shock.
"Ethan Lestrange's account of previous events and actions will be forthwith stricken from the record."
"What!?" Ethan exclaimed angrily.
Harry flinched at the sound of Ethan's violent shout.
Fudge frowned warningly at him. "Hold your tongue, Mr Lestrange. There will be no more outbursts from you in this court, is that clear? Or we will be forced to send you back to your cell."
Ethan slowly closed his mouth, his eyes narrowed with absolute venom at the Minister. He then turned his head and fixed his dark eyes upon Harry's trembling form.
Harry felt his breath catch in his throat as Ethan's gaze burned into him. He closed his eyes and prayed for the Minister to continue.
Fudge beckoned to the short witch in the pink suit that he had been speaking with earlier. She immediately nodded and walked briskly over to the Minister, a heavy black case with a silver handle clutched in one hand.
Harry watched in trepidation as she clicked open the clasps with her wand and lifted out a fragile-looking glass bottle filled with clear liquid.
He suddenly felt the crazy urge to make a run for it and bolt out of the room, but the same fear that made him want to run also kept him frozen in his seat, watching helplessly as the pink witch walked towards him with the Veritaserum.
When she stopped in front of him, he could see up close that she actually had very pale blue eyes that were warm and friendly. Her expression was a mixture of understanding and sympathy, her face sweet and youthful, the peaches and cream complexion of a young child radiating from her, and her blond hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders.
"Hi, Harry," she greeted warmly, as if they were having a private conversation, just the two of them. "My name is Miranda Bloomwood. I just need you to sign this paper saying that you agree to take the Veritaserum before we begin. Is that alright?"
Harry nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment, and took the black feather quill with a shaking hand.
"Don't you fucking dare, Potter," Ethan hissed threateningly.
Harry jumped and dropped the quill to the floor.
"S-sorry," he mumbled apologetically.
"That's okay, Harry." Miranda smiled. "Let's try that again, shall we?"
Miranda scooped up the fallen quill and held it out for Harry to take.
"I'm warning you, Potter..."
"I think that's quite enough out of you," Miranda said, sharply. She lifted her wand and pointed it straight at Ethan's sneering face. "Silencio!"
Ethan opened his mouth in outrage, but of course nothing came out, which seemed to only enrage him more, his face turning a nasty shade of red and purple.
"I dare say that that's an improvement." Miranda grinned, winking at Harry.
Harry actually smiled at her in return, his eyes flicking to Ethan's flushed face and back. He began feeling something which could only be described as confidence beginning to flow through his body, a feeling that he thought he would never feel again, a feeling he thought he had lost forever, but now reminded him how he used to live his life.
Ethan seemed just a little less threatening and a good deal more vulnerable in his forced silence.
Harry smiled and signed his name to the paper with a flourish.
Ethan fumed in silence.
"Thank you, Harry." Miranda took the paper and folded it back into her pocket. "Now, if you will open your mouth, I'll administer the serum."
Harry lifted his chin and focused on his new-found strength to get him through the next step. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes. He directly felt three separate drops of serum fall onto his tongue.
The Veritaserum took immediate effect. Harry closed his mouth and blinked his eyes open warily, his mind suddenly becoming foggy and convoluted, his vision blurring around the edges, but his hearing seemed to be sharpening, voices ringing out clear as a bell, like a hypnotic lullaby.
"Harry?"
"Yes?" Harry heard himself answer from far away.
"How do you feel?"
"Okay."
"Could you answer a few questions for me?"
Miranda. He finally put the name to the voice.
"Yes," he answered automatically. It was as if his mouth and his brain were no longer connected, although, if you asked Professor Snape he would've said that that had nothing to do with the Veritaserum.
"Are you Harry James Potter?"
"Yes."
"When is your birthday?"
"July thirty-first."
"What do you want for your birthday?"
"I dunno..."
"Come on, you must want something. What did your family get you last year?"
"Nothing. They never get me anything."
A pause. "Surely you've gotten birthday presents before?"
"I got a Firebolt from my godfather two years ago."
"Really? That sounds pretty nice to me. I didn't even know you had a godfather. What's his-"
"I think that's enough, Ms Bloomwood. The serum appears to be working fine."
Harry tilted his head at the sudden intrusion of another voice – Dumbledore's voice.
"Alright."
Harry watched as the blurry pink shape moved away from him and a new dark purple form approached.
"Harry-"
Harry pursed his lips thoughtfully. Another new voice – Fudge. This, he knew, is where the questions would get tough.
"- has Ethan Lestrange ever hit or harmed you in any way?"
"No."
There was a faint murmur from the crowd.
"Cornelius." Dumbledore spoke up. "Remember that your questions will be taken, and therefore answered, literally."
"Oh, yes, of course." Fudge cleared his throat. "Harry, has Ethan Fiori ever mistreated you?"
"Yes."
Fudge smiled satisfactorily. "Can you please tell the court the exact details of how he abused you from the beginning of your relationship up until the night of December the tenth?"
"Yes," Harry answered obediently, his voice now becoming the flat monotone pitch that people usually associate with Veritaserum. "Our relationship officially started right after one of my quidditch games against Slytherin. I was feeling really hurt and angry at the time because I saw my ex kissing someone else, so I stormed off and Ethan came after me. I just needed to feel as if someone really cared about me, and he was always around – helping me, comforting me."
"So it started as a regular relationship, no hitting or verbal abuse at all?" Fudge asked.
"That's right," Harry continued emotionlessly. "The first incident didn't occur until much later, I think the middle of October or something. I was in his dorm room and we were kissing, it got pretty intense and he wanted to go further, but I said no. He got angry when I kept asking him to stop, so he hit me."
"How did he hit you?"
"It was a slap, across my cheek."
"Hard?"
"Yes, very."
Fudge nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, please continue."
"He apologized right away and kept telling me that it would never happen again and that he loved me."
"And you believed him?"
"Yes, he'd always been so nice and gentle, so I had no reason not to."
"Go on," Fudge instructed.
"He was fine, in fact, he was extra nice to me after that, and I thought everything was okay. Then he got really upset when he saw me kissing someone else."
"You kissed someone else?" Fudge asked in surprise.
"Yes," Harry confirmed without hesitation. "It was an accident, we were arguing and I just found myself-"
"Who was it?"
Harry opened his mouth to answer, but inside he was desperately trying to fight the impulse.
"Harry!"
Harry jumped and looked up at Dumbledore, his mouth still open.
"Don't answer that."
"Now, Albus," Fudge started, looking miffed.
"We can not bring this other student's name into this without his consent. It was an isolated incident in which he doesn't deserve to have his name splashed all over the front page of the Daily Prophet for."
Harry expelled his breath in relief.
"Very well," Fudge conceded, sulkily. "So, he saw you kissing someone and then what?"
"I ran after him in the corridor and tried to apologize, and that's when he punched me – hard. It broke my glasses."
"And yet you still stayed with him?"
"Yes, it was my fault after all. I deserved it."
Fudge's expression softened slightly. "Is that why you never broke up with him, because you thought you deserved it all?"
"Yes." Somewhere in the back of Harry's mind he noticed that his eyes were beginning to prickle with tears.
"I assume the violence escalated from there?"
"Yes."
"Why is it no one noticed? Surely you must've had visible marks or bruises?"
"I used a concealment charm."
Fudge shook his head in disbelief. "What else did he do to you when the situation was at its worst?"
The tears spilled over as the answer was forced out of him. "He broke my nose, my ribs, my arm, dislocated my knee, cut me with a knife, tied me up in his room and used Cruciatus on me-"
"What?!" Fudge exclaimed, startled. "He used an Unforgivable on you?"
Harry nodded dully.
"My, god…" Fudge breathed in shock, glancing at Ethan.
Ethan glared menacingly at Harry.
Fudge looked distinctly uncomfortable, as if he didn't really want to know the answer, as he asked his next question. "Did he ever rape you?"
Harry could feel the entire room holding its breath, awaiting his answer.
"No."
Fudge sighed in relief, and seemed to get his courage back. "Did you ever have consensual sex with him?"
"Minister!" Miranda exclaimed angrily, standing up. "Surely that's not necessary!"
"Harry?" Fudge prompted, ignoring her.
"No, I didn't."
Fudge nodded, again looking relieved. He turned to address the jury.
"You have in front of you a copy of the medical report from Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts head nurse, and you will see that it does indeed confirm the allegations that Mr Potter has described. You will also see that the report makes mention of the Inflecto potion. She found traces of it in his system when she made the initial report on December the fourth."
Harry frowned in confusion, the words swirling around him a haze.
"Harry." Fudge turned towards him once more. "Do you know what the Inflecto potion is?"
"No."
"Were you aware of the fact that you had ingested it in the past few months?"
"No," Harry answered, his stomach clenching in fear. "What does it do?"
"Tell me something, Harry, did you have a fight with anyone other than, Ethan?"
"Yes, my friends and just about everyone in my house at school."
"Do you know why you fought with them?"
"Um." Harry racked his brain. "Not really, I don't remember…"
"The Inflecto potion causes people to feel negative thoughts a lot more powerfully than what is normal. Like sadness, fear, jealousy, anger, greed, and loneliness for example. Your mind gets so wrapped up with the pain of these feelings that it causes you to do or say things you normally wouldn't, but the emotions are so intense and all-consuming you don't remember a thing afterwards. It's my guess that Ethan slipped this potion to you undetected in order to separate you from your friends or anyone that might notice your unhealthy state."
Harry tried to concentrate on the Minister's words and take it all in. He glanced up at Ron and Hermione, wondering if they already knew about all this, but he couldn't clearly make out their faces – it was too dark and blurry.
He was beginning to feel nauseous and a little dizzy from all the stress and the strong potion churning in his empty stomach.
"Now, Mr Potter," Fudge continued. "The statement you made earlier concerning the events of the night of December the fourth, was that a truthful and accurate assessment?"
"Yes."
"Did Ethan say that he was going to kill you?"
'Yes."
"And he would've done so had you not escaped?"
"Yes." Harry swallowed and prayed that he wouldn't be sick in front of all these people, including Ethan. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
"Did you know going in that that's what he was planning to do?"
"I figured it was."
"And yet you still went. Did you ask him to kill you before or after he told you he was going to do it?"
"Erm…before, I think."
"Hmm…"
Harry fidgeted nervously.
"Tell me, Harry, why did you want to die?"
Harry closed his eyes in pain, unable to stop himself from answering. "Because I have nothing and no one to live for, because I've loved and lost more times than I care to count. How would you feel if your sole purpose in life was to kill Voldemort-"
Fudge winced uncomfortably, along with the rest of the silently enraptured crowd.
"- and watch everyone around you die along the way?"
Harry could feel the sudden onslaught of tears as they streamed down his cheeks and fell onto his clasped hands. He wanted to stop talking, he felt ashamed and humiliated beyond belief, and completely naked in front of all these people - his deepest emotions and feelings on display for everyone to see. He knew they would certainly despise him or think him selfish after this was all over and done with.
"Do you still wish that you were dead?" Fudge asked, quietly.
Harry dropped his head into his hands and sobbed. "I don't know…"
"I think that's enough," Miranda Bloomwood said quietly, but firmly.
"Yes, that should do it," Fudge sighed, watching Harry's shaking shoulders sympathetically. "Thank you, Mr Potter."
Harry tried to stop crying, but found the sudden overflowing of emotions too much for him to handle.
He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and looked up into Miranda's pale blue eyes.
She lifted his chin with her other hand and gazed directly into his watery eyes. "You're a good person, Harry Potter."
Harry gulped and exhaled shakily.
"Here." She pressed a white handkerchief that smelled of lavender into his hand.
"Thanks." Harry closed his hand around it gratefully.
Meanwhile, Fudge was standing by the jury and talking to them earnestly.
"Are they going to decide right away?" Harry asked Miranda quietly.
"I believe so. Do you want me to stay here with you?"
Harry gave a tiny smile. "Thank you, but I think I need to finish this myself."
"Okay." She smiled and squeezed his shoulder one last time as she straightened up and returned to her seat.
Harry glanced out of the corner of his eye at, Ethan. The other boy was sitting slouched over in the heavy restraints, his right eye twitching slightly as he stared at the ground.
Harry turned his head fully to the left and stared at him, feeling that maybe this whole experience had been worth it after all. He had expected Ethan to mock him for breaking down into tears, and although he wasn't naïve enough to believe that the boy was sorry for what he'd done, he did look kind of defeated and sad – which was just as good.
Fudge walked back to his seat in front of Harry and Ethan.
"The jury has reached their decision."
Harry felt his stomach jump sickeningly and his heart beginning to thump loudly in his chest.
"I now ask the jury to raise their hands if they believe that these crimes deserve imprisonment in Azkaban."
Harry whipped his head around to the right and watched in astonishment as the entire jury raised their hands into the air, some of them even smiling at Harry or else smirking at Ethan.
Harry found himself smiling back. He couldn't believe it – he'd done it. He'd stood against Ethan and won.
Still smiling, he turned to face Ethan and wanted to laugh at the expression of angry indignation on his face, an expression that would've had Harry shaking with fear only hours before-hand.
Ethan's expression quickly changed to one of incensed fury when Harry winked at him.
"Ethan Lestrange, you are hereby convicted of the crimes with which you have committed and will see out your imprisonment in Azkaban following your other trial in three days time. Guards, if you would please take the prisoner away."
Harry watched as two guards stepped up to remove the chains on Ethan's arms and legs.
"Shall I remove the silencing spell now?" Miranda asked the Minister, withdrawing her wand.
"No, I think we'll just leave it for awhile," Fudge replied, a hint of a smile hovering about his lips.
"Yes, sir." Miranda covered up a chuckle with a quick cough behind her hand.
Ethan glared at Harry as he stood up, mouthing all kinds of nasty words his way. The guards quickly took a hold of his arms and began to escort him from the room.
Harry smiled and gave a cheerful wave.
Ethan's face turned bright red and his eyes widened in outrage.
Then he was gone.
"Court is adjourned," Fudge announced.
Dumbledore and Miranda immediately rushed to Harry's side, both of them smiling happily.
"Come on, Harry." Dumbledore motioned for him to stand. "The crowd must wait until the jury and the Wizengamot have both left before they are allowed to leave. You can wait for your friends outside."
Harry shakily got to his feet and put an arm around Dumbledore for support. His stomach was still a little queasy and the dizziness returned as he got his legs under him once more.
Suddenly the seated crowd began to applaud.
Harry looked up in surprise and saw them all beaming down at him proudly, even the newspaper and media reporters were clapping. Ron and Hermione leapt to their feet, cheering madly.
Harry blushed and ducked his head, but his face was split into a wide grin.
"Come on." Miranda smiled gently.
The three slowly made their way out of the room amid thunderous approval.
Harry felt as if he was walking on air the whole way.