A/N: Excuse, excuses. I know you all don't want to hear excuses for why it took so long for me to update, but I do have my reasons. Shortly after starting my new job (which I figured might delayed my updating a bit), my best friend was diagnosed with diabetes and I've been spending a great deal of time with her, helping her to adjust to it. I am sorry you had to wait.

The beta-ed version should be up as soon as Xirleb70 decides to beta it.

And, as per reviewer request, I am adding the name andartist of all the songs I use at the start of the chapter. I go back and fix the previous chapters shortly.

Beta note: Alas, I decided to beta it, seeing as I felt a tad guilty for pulling the disappearing act on dear DevRose here… again… so, I felt obligated to beta it. Enjoy!!

BETA'ED VERSION: CH11: Identity Crisis

"I'm surrounded by liars everywhere I turn

I'm surrounded by imposters everywhere I turn

I'm surrounded by identity crisis everywhere I turn

Am I the only one to notice?

I can't be the only one who's learned."

'I Don't Want To Be' by Gavin Degraw

July 30, 1996

Harry breathed roughly as another spell came in contact with the dummy before him. The dummy moved to fight back, but Harry struck out again mercilessly, causing it to crumple to the floor.

"Activate," Harry murmured, watching as it sprang back to life, ready for another beating.

"Bad day?" an amused voice asked from the general direction of the doorway. Harry shot a Stupefy at the dummy and brought his wand up to point at the arrival. Kyle held his hands up in defense. "Whoa, calm down. It's just me."

"What do you want?" Harry asked, returning to attacking the dummy with relish.

"I see you already heard," Kyle remarked as he took in the scene before him: the dummy's gray skin marred with rips and tears, the walls covered in burn marks, Harry sweating profusely but continuing on with a fire in his eyes.

Harry shot him a glare while he sent a Severing Charm at the dummy's leg. "I don't feel like dealing with any mind games today," he said shortly. "What are you talking about?"

"I assume by your … 'cheerful demeanor'," Kyle sneered sarcastically. "That you have heard about Umbridge's trial."

Harry whipped around with wide eyes. "What?!?" Attention distracted, the dummy pulled his fist back and slugged Harry in the back of the head. "Bloody hell!" he yelled and gave the dummy an elbow in the gut. "Stop!" The dummy became inanimate again.

Kyle clicked his tongue. "What did I tell you about letting yourself get distracted, Dagger?"

"What about Umbridge?" Harry asked, ignoring the mocking scold.

His mentor looked confused. "You haven't heard? She's going on trial tomorrow. They are investigating what happened at Hogwarts last year. I know how you feel about her, so I just assumed – Harry!"

But Harry was already sprinting out the door.

July 31, 1996

The next morning there was a large tawny owl waiting on Harry's windowsill.

H –, the letter said.

Meet me tomorrow, same time, and same place. We need to talk.

The World is Quiet here,

S

Harry bit his lip as he read over the note again. Sighing, he put the note down. He'd worry about that later.

Now, he had bigger things to worry about.

Harry nervously smoothed down his black pants and fixed his collar. He had no idea what this trial would be like. But he had to be there. He had to make sure that she didn't get away with all that she had done last year.

He slipped into the telephone booth and dialed. "Six – two – four – four – two." The pleasant sound of the Ministry voiceover lady's voice filled the booth.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Harry Potter," Harry intoned briskly. "The trial of Dolores Umbridge."

A small silver badge fell out of the shoot and Harry pinned it on his shirt, making sure it was partially hidden by the folds of his black robe.

"Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, whish is located at the far end of the Atrium."

Harry flinched slightly as the floor descended into the ground. This brought back too many memories of the day Sirius died – the day he lost Sirius forever. The worst day he could remember.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," said the women and the doors opened.

Harry blinked against the bright glare of the lights in the room and stepped in. It looked the same as it had when he had been there last summer: crowds of workers bustling around, fireplaces roaring to life to admit newcomers. But there was one notable difference.

Harry walked towards the large fountain. The statues were in disrepair, some figures missing completely. A large sign hung in front of the monstrosity, proclaiming it, 'Under Construction'.

He sighed and passed by it, making his way through the mob to wait in the line at the security desk.

"Step over here." It was the same wizard who had been working during his own hearing. Harry complied, hoping the man had not recognized him. The man, Eric if he remembered correctly, passed the long gold rod over his front and back.

"Wand," said Eric in a disinterested tone. Harry cautiously held out his wand and watched as the paper flew out of the machine.

"Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use five years …" He stopped and looked at the paper curiously, before a look of realization dawned in his eyes. His head shot up to gaze at Harry's forehead.

"Is there a problem, sir?" Harry asked politely, praying that his Metamorphmagic was holding and that his scar was still concealed.

"No, no, I just thought …" he trailed off, handing Harry back his wand. "Never mind."

"Do you know where they are holding the Umbridge trial?" he inquired.

"A Hogwarts student, eh? It's down in Courtroom Seven."

"Thank you." Harry left the desk and headed over to the elevators. As he saw the last one closing, he raised a hand and called, "Wait!" A man inside stuck out his arm and held the lift door. "Thanks."

"No problem," the man said, shrugging it off. He eyed Harry curiously. "You're a bit too young to be working here. Where are you headed?"

"The trial," Harry answered.

The man laughed. "Me too. I wouldn't miss this for the world. Did you know Umbridge?"

"We've met."

"You didn't like her either," he guessed, sensing Harry's tone. "She was a real hag. I'm Jacob, by the way. Jacob Tontine."

"Harry." They shook hands briefly.

"Department of Mysteries," the women's voice boomed through the speakers.

"That's us," Jacob said joyfully and stepped through the door. He looked back at Harry. "Something wrong?"

Harry took a deep breath, pushing the memories away. 'Calm down, Harry,' he told himself. 'What's wrong with you? You are a spy. These things are not supposed to affect you anymore.' He shook his head. "I'm coming."

The pair walked in silence down the stairs until they reached the door to number Seven. It was wide open, scores of people filling the room. Harry surveyed the scene, gob smacked.

"I guess she wasn't liked by many people," he commented dully.

Jacob smirked. "You could say that." He peered around. "There are a couple of seats back here. It starts in a couple minutes, so I doubt we will be able to find better ones."

"That's alright." Inwardly, he was relieved. The closer he was to the action, the more likely it was that someone might recognize him.

They sidled into their seats, which were next to the door. The woman next to Jacob glared at him.

"Jacob Tontine, aren't you supposed to be at work?" she scolded.

"They won't miss me," he responded, smiling. The woman huffed.

"Who's that?" Harry whispered.

Jacob leaned over to reply, but the woman interrupted and hissed, "Shhh! It's starting."

Rows and rows of witches and wizards in Wizengamot robes filed in and took their seats on the high up benches, all looking down on the courtroom with severe expressions.

"Have you ever been to a trial before?" Jacob asked quietly, so the witch would not reprimand him again.

"I've seen a memory of one," Harry responded.

"Trial of the thirtieth of July," said Madame Bones in a loud voice. Harry did a double take. Where was Fudge? "Charges against Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, are as follows: assault, improper use of magic, deceit, bribery, blackmailing, and misuse of power."

Jacob whistled under his breath.

"I will be presiding over today's investigation in place of Minister Cornelius Oswald Fudge, who has been asked to step down for the day due to a conflict of interest. Also asked to step down is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry." She adjusted her monocle. "Interrogators include Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Thomas Randal, Head of the British Auror Division. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley, Junior Assistant to the Minister. Mr. Randal will be conducting the proceedings today. Please bring out the Defendant!" she barked.

Umbridge was led out from a side door by two burly looking wizards and dropped unceremoniously in a chair. A tall, black-haired man with a vicious scar running down his left cheek stood up and approached her.

"You are Dolores Jane Umbridge?" Randal said in a deep voice.

"Yes," she said, and Harry winced as he heard the familiar high-pitched sounds.

"Age 43?"

"Yes."

"You have been working under Minister Fudge since his election in 1991?"

"Yes."

Randal turned towards the Wizengamot. "Two investigators from the Department of Magical Law enforcement, Mr. Albert Ellenton and Miss Pricilla Andrews, have been working on this case and are prepared to come out and establish the evidence they have collected." At Madame Bones' nod, another door opened and two slightly frazzled looking people came out.

A short, stocky man stepped forward and addressed the court. "We would like to call forth several witnesses to illustrate the crimes Miss Umbridge has committed."

"Continue," said Randal.

A taller woman with a mass of curly blond hair stepped beside her partner. "We would like to call Mr. Lee Franklin Jordan to the stand."

Harry watched with interest as Lee stood up from his place in the front row of the courtroom and took a seat next to the benches.

"Do you swear on your life and magic to tell the truth?" Ellenton asked.

"I do," said Lee with conviction.

"Very well then. Last year, Miss Umbridge served as your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And you attended detention with her on several occasions?"

"Yes, sir."

"What did you do to deserve these detentions?"

"Erm …" Looking around hesitantly, Lee looked a bit abashed.

Ellenton chuckled. "No need to be shy here, son. We aren't going to arrest you for breaking a couple of school rules."

"I played a couple of … pranks on her."

"How many detentions did you serve?"

"Three."

"And what occurred during these punishments?"

"She had me write lines."

"Is that all?"

Lee shook his head. "The quill I used … it didn't use ink. When I tried to write with it, it cut the back of my hand and used my blood to write out the words."

The crowd gasped. "Do you know of any other students who served detention in the same way?"

"I know of many others who had detention with her, but I only know of a few who definitely used that quill."

"Please tell us their names."

"Er … Ernie Macmillan, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, and Harry Potter."

Harry absentmindedly rubbed the back of his hand.

"How do you know that these students went through the same trauma you did?"

"Ernie, Terry, and Anthony all had detention the same week I did. We met in the library to … study for a club we were all members of and then the discussion turned to our detentions. We thought about going to McGonagall, we really did," he said earnestly. "But we didn't know if she could do anything, what with Umbridge being the Headmistress and all."

"And what about Mr. Potter?"

"When I got back from my first detention, Harry recommended Murtlap essence for the pain. He never told me outright – and Harry is the type of person who keeps his problems to himself as long as he can – but, by his reaction, I'm sure he used that quill, too."

"Thank you, Mr. Jordan. You may step down now."

Ellenton turned back to the Wizengamot, taking a deep breath as if to steady himself for what was to come.

"Are you ready to call your next witness?" Madame Bones asked politely when he seemed to hesitate.

"At this time, Your Honor, we seem to have no more witnesses."

Madame Bones crinkled her forehead in confusion. "But it says here – "

"Yes," Andrews cut in, standing up to face the judges. "We did have a witness. But it seems that someone has been threatening her and she has decided not to testify today." The courtroom filled with low murmurs.

"Very well then," Madame Bones said. "If you have no more witnesses, then – "

"With all due respect, you did not let me finish." Andrews pulled a sheet of white parchment from her robe pocket. "While we have no more human witnesses, we have some much more concrete evidence." She motioned to the front row of the courtroom. "As you have heard from Mr. Jordan's testimony, he and some of his fellow students, in a show of protest against Miss Umbridge, played a few childish pranks on her. In our investigation, we discovered that Miss Umbridge took some precautionary measures after that and installed a recording device in her office."

Umbridge paled and shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

"With your permission," Ellenton continued. "We would like to play the contents of that device for the courtroom."

"I object!" came Umbridge's shrill reply. "Those are my private doings in my private office and you have no right to – "

"Quiet!" Madame Bones stood up. Then she turned to Ellenton and Andrews. "Your request is granted."

Back in his seat, Harry rubbed his hands together in anticipation. 'Oooo, this going to be fun.'

With a snap of Ellenton's fingers, the courtroom doors opened and a small black device was wheeled in. It was about the size of a quaffle, only squarer. He addressed the court again. "There is only one recording we wish to show today. A very enlightening recording."

"Proceed."

Ellenton pressed his wand into the top of the box. "The date was the 20th of June … "

A small bluish mist arose and the audience was entranced as it filled the front of the courtroom.

BANG!

A flash of light blinded everyone watching. As their vision cleared, the image of a dingy office floated before them. A very familiar pair of legs were crouched in front of the fire, unaware that Umbridge and her Inquisitorial was lurking into the room behind them.

Harry closed his eyes. He had known this was coming as soon as he heard the date. But that didn't mean he was ready to relive that day …

The crowd winced as a teenage boy was yanked out of the fire by his messy black hair.

"You think," said Umbridge in a deadly whisper. "that after two Nifflers I was going to let one more foul, scavenging little creature enter my office without my knowledge. I had Stealth Censoring Spells placed all around my doorway after the last one got in, you foolish boy. Take his wand. Hers, too."

The crowd watched as the boy and his friend were disarmed and as Umbridge bent the boy's neck dangerously far back.

"I want to know why you are in my office."

"I was – trying to get my Firebolt!"

"Liar. Your Firebolt is under strict guard in the dungeons, as you very well know, Potter."

There were surprised exclamations from the crowd as they took in this news.

"Settle down, please," Madame Bones said strictly.

"You had your head in my fire. With whom have you been communicating?"

"No one-"

"Liar!"

Outraged protests overtook some audience members as Harry flew into a desk. And, at the front of the room, Ellenton reclined back in his chair, smirking. Harry never took his eyes off him. The man knew this was going to happen. The people were now watching Umbridge torment their once-again-hero. The prosecution was going for the sympathy vote.

And it was working.

Harry watched the reactions of the crowd as snippets of the recording went by.

"You took my last bottle to interrogate, Potter."

"The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue."

"He never knew I ordered Dementors to go after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him all the same."

With Hermione's last scream of "No!" the memory faded.

Ellenton and Andrews stood up, faces of smug insinuations plastered on across their features. "The prosecution rests," they announced in unison. Umbridge sat trembling in her place, knowing that there was no chance for her to win this case any longer.

Madame Bones stood once more, a grim look on her face. "Although I am disappointed in my former co-worker and am reluctant to bring down punishment, we can all see now that it is necessary. However … "

Harry's head shot up. She wasn't going to pardon Umbridge, was she? She couldn't!

"There is one last witness I believe we need to hear from. Mr. Jordan, would you please stand up?"

Lee complied, looking bemused. "Yes, Madame?"

"Mr. Jordan, would you happen to know of any way we could get a hold of Mr. Potter. I believe his testimony would be most beneficial to this case."

Lee thought for a moment, before smirking at the Wizengamot. "I've know Harry since he started his first year at Hogwarts. And if I have learned anything about him these past years, it is that he has this strange determination to make sure all things are right in the world. I have heard it referred to as a 'hero complex' and that certainly describes Harry." He paused. "Knowing this, I am almost positive that he is in this very room right now."

Madame Bones actually smiled at this, an expression that looked out of place on the stern woman Harry had seen her as. She gazed out over the audience. "Mr. Potter?"

There were hushed whispers racing across the corrugation. Harry sighed softly.

Hermione was right. Lee was right. He wished he didn't have this damn hero complex as it seemed to bring him nothing but trouble. But he knew this was something he had to do.

Slowly, but confidently he stood, ignoring the shocked gasp from Jacob. "Here it goes," he said to himself and stepped out into the center aisle.