Hello again, everyone! It hasn't been too long, has it? Though I'm not sure when chapter six will come out…The plot gets a little fuzzy from here on out so I have to deal with that (on the other hand, if anyone gives me any ideas they will be considered if they fit with my version of the plot well enough). You should probably expect a Dark Angel update first. But that's not going to happen for a while, still.
Random line of thought…How can my chapter get 1550 hits and only 17 reviews? I wrote this chapter extra long for all of you (6513 words of story context, people!). Of course, it's summer so some people are away but please review!
Anyways, some people have reviewed saying that they're confused and/or asking for further clarification in this chapter. For now I'm going to be selfish and say no. All will be revealed…later. I'd like people to think a bit, guess a bit, or just sit back and ride it out for a couple chapters until things are revealed. I'm having plenty of fun with this, at least. As Cobra said, 'keep 'em confused'. Extra thanks to those who were polite and/or thought it was fun, amusing, etc.
For those who asked for clarification, or for those who can't remember everything in the previous chapter, I'm going to sum up the puzzles and OCs for you:
Given so far:
- Harry was originally Cobra
- Cobra is also Damon Faunus (pretending to be a spy Death Eater for the Order, though in reality, he does not truly belong to either)
- Harry was seen with Cobra after returning from 'work' and again with Damon
- Sali works as part of the werewolf pack (with new character 1 – Terra Lyall, pack member and new character 3 – Conall Silvia, pack leader) and hasn't been seen elsewhere so far
- New character 2 is Bran Fiachra, a worker for the ministry and now an official scribe (read: scapegoat)
Hint: Keep in mind that roles can be played by two people, though then stories won't match up quite right and personalities may differ.
And for those still confused about the slash question, in case I did not make it clear enough:
No. No slash (sorry for those who wanted it!). Very few pairings, in fact. And again, Harry is not going to be paired with anyone, in case I did not make it clear enough, because I still got a request.
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.
:Mindspeech:
-Parseltongue-
Chapter Five: Of Pain and Trials
Pain. It was the only thing that filled his beaten body. He tried to get up but collapsed instantly. Whimpering, he curled his small frame into a ball. A chilly breeze blew by him and he shivered, the sounds of the wind and the whispering tree branches somehow making him feel more alone than ever. Alone…he had always been alone.
Once again he prayed that someone would find him; once again there was no reply except the whisper of branches. Somewhere far away a wolf howled. He shivered again or, rather, he continued shivering, not having stopped in the first place.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
When Salazar was a small child, his mother had been all for allowing him to have companions and pets, and snakes fit both categories neatly. His father, being a muggle and not knowing about magic, was not allowed to see these pets so they could not stand out outrageously. Also, with Dark magic users being hunted by the Light magic users, and snakes being representative of Dark magic users, it had to be something easily explainable. After all, one could hardly explain away a basilisk, which could only be bred by hatching a chicken's egg beneath a toad.
And so his mother chose to let him keep ashwinders, and that suited him just fine. He liked their ash-color and their smoldering-coal eyes. They emerged from the ashes of any magical fire that was allowed to burn unattended for too long and so were easy to both produce and explain away. However, these snakes only lived as long as the fire they sprung from burned. His mother had him burn his own fires and, since he did not know any versions of the everlasting fire spells, his own magical fires lasted only a few days at very best.
And when his father came close to seeing them, he would put out the flame himself, usually in the form of a candle that he took with him under the pretense of being able to see better in the darker rooms of the house.
Perhaps that is where he learned that friends were not meant to last.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
"Blimey," Hagrid muttered, staring at the battered creature in front of him.
The young boy whimpered, and drew himself into a tighter ball, bloody and tattered clothing in such horrible shape that they provided no protection from the elements at all. Hagrid stared at the child for a minute, unsure as to what to do. While it was true that he often brought injured animals to his hut and nursed the ones that he could back to help, this child was outside of his area of expertise. He needed a healer.
He would go to Dumbledore, Hagrid decided, he would take the child to the Headmaster. Dumbledore would know what to do. Scooping up the small form and, holding him tight, he set off in a run towards the castle.
From within his arms, dull, grey eyes gleamed with something, not quite malice, not quite smugness, something that, in the eyes of such a small child looked purely unholy, before fading back again to dead, dull grey.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
There was a near-silent sort of whoosh as a shadowed figure Slid directly into one of the cells deep inside Azkaban. Though there was no sunlight this deep inside the prison and dementors leeched torchlight as easily as they stole happiness, the place was very well-lit; to his eyes alone. A prisoner further down gave a sort of half-hearted whimper. This deep in the prison known to wizards as Azkaban most of the cells were empty, many of the prisoners not being to last more than a couple days under the constant pressure of the dementors so deep in Azkaban.
This is where those convicted of the most heinous crimes were kept. This is where Sirius Black set a record by lasting twelve years before escaping, being the first (noted) person in history to break out of the prison. And, ironically, those who lasted more than a couple days down there were usually innocent of whatever crimes they were accused of. Those innocent people were the ones who had to suffer the longest. And this is where the wizarding world dumped Harry Potter when he brought all of their expectations and dreams they had been piling on him crashing down.
"Time to go, Harold," he said quietly to the occupant of the cell.
The occupant of the cell looked up, closing the thick potions text that he had been reading under the pretext of staring blankly at the wall, as nobody in Azkaban but the two of them could actually see it, while the other person rummaged through a small, hidden shelf that they had created in the wall and pulling out his own book, a muggle fantasy.
"Time?" Harold asked, speaking quietly so as to not overly disturb the other occupants of the prison.
"You have half an hour to get to your class."
"Don't you have to be at work?" Harold asked, frowning.
"Don't worry about it," the reply was dismissing, "Sali's covering that for me."
"And Cobra?"
"Busy setting up a new trail now that 'Damon Faunus' is 'dead'. He's got a full-time 'job' now."
"Ah, really?" Harold asked, "Would that work? Cobra is still needed."
"It should work out fine if we manage our time properly. Ask Sali to fill you in before one of you comes to take over for me. Oh, hold on a minute," He dug around in his pocket a bit before grabbing a glowing stone filled with black light, "That should be good enough to last until I get back."
"Thanks," Harold said, taking off the charms that made him look dirty and unkempt and pulling his hair back quickly. He was the only one that didn't have to use charms or spells to make his hair look longer or eye color different when they were playing 'Harry', as his 'character' already had semi-longish hair and was also the one who looked most like Harry himself.
Holding tightly onto the stone, he Slid away, leaving Harry Potter alone in the cell with his muggle book.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
"Headmaster!" Hagrid boomed, bursting into the round office, the run across the school grounds and up two flights of stairs plus the spiral staircase leading to the office hardly seeming to put him out of breath.
"Hagrid!" Professor McGonagall said in a scandalized voice, turning away from Dumbledore to stare at the newcomer, "What are you doing?"
Dumbledore, however, noticed the small bundle in his visitor's arms,
"What is that you're carrying, Hagrid?"
"I swear I found 'im like this, Professor, jus' lyin' there in the forest," Hagrid said, depositing the child gently onto Dumbledore's desk. McGonagall gasped and Dumbledore looked grave.
"Minerva, use my fireplace and warn Poppy that I am bringing a visitor that will need immediate medical care. Hagrid, go down to the dungeons and fetch Severus, tell him to meet us in the hospital wing," Dumbledore commanded, scooping up the child and quickly exiting his office, Hagrid right behind him.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
"Godric…" Rowena said gently as she approached the other founder.
"I'm such a fool," Godric hissed, clenching his fists, wanting to hit himself with them more than anything. But he wanted Salazar back more. He wanted one last chance, to apologize, to do anything to make sure the other founder knew exactly how sorry he was, "I never stopped to think…I just let her use me…Never even considered that Sal might have his own reasons…"
"Godric," Rowena repeated, more firmly. He just kept muttering to himself, not seeming to hear her.
"Godric!" Rowena said loudly, quietly swearing that if he did not even look her way this time she would hit him. Thankfully the other founder looked up, finally seeming to hear her.
"Re'na?" He asked, dazedly.
"I…may have found Sal," She admitted quietly, "But you aren't going to like it." Godric's heart almost stopped then and there, Please don't let him be dead…Please, whatever happened to him, please don't let him have died…
"But Helga would want to hear this too. Let us meet in our Meeting Room. You wait there and I'll go find her." The Meeting Room was a truly inspirational piece of pure Slytherin paranoia. Salazar had actually been able to prove that wherever you were in the castle and however softly you spoke, there was always at least one place where a listener could stay out of site and yet hear everything you were saying (providing you were standing still). Secret peepholes, turns in the hallway, broom closets, and just bizarre coincidences with the architecture all contributed to this strange phenomenon. And so, in all of Salazar's paranoid Slytherin glory, set up a room from which you could not be heard by anyone not in the room, nobody else would be able to find, nobody else would be able to remember you heading towards it, and many, many other irrationally Slytherin-type wards, including anti-scrying wards. And it was also equipped with the ability to be able view any other part of the school grounds, if the occupants of the room so wished to. Needless to say, it was placed very near the entrance to the dungeons, closer to Salazar's classroom and living quarters than anyone else's.
And so the three remaining founders met in this spectacularly Slytherin Room to discuss the whereabouts of their missing friend.
"So, Rowena, what did you want to tell us?" Helga asked.
"Re'na thinks she knows where Sal might be," Godric answered, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Really?" Helga asked, brightening instantly.
"Ah…yes, I have suspicions as to where Salazar went. Let me check something, first," Rowena walked over to the large mirror that was set up on the opposite wall and, placing her hand on the cold surface, said, "Show me Salazar Slytherin's living quarters." Nothing happened. Frowning, she tried once more, and once more again. The last time she heard what could have been a hissing coming from the mirror. Her frown deepened and the thoughtful look she got when contemplating a puzzle appeared on her face as she appraised the mirror for a minute, and then again with magic.
Finally she came to a conclusion,
"I do believe that he's got all his rooms locked away with a password. It's not the scrying glass, I was able to get to all of our rooms just fine, but Salazar's more private rooms, his private quarters, his Chamber, and some of the back passages and hidden rooms of the dungeons, all don't register on the glass. It's a little…disturbing."
"So he could be there?" Godric asked excitedly, "Hiding in this school, right under our noses?"
"No," Rowena replied, her voice vague and her mind still elsewhere, "You banished him…We banished him. He could not stay anywhere on school grounds without a pardon from all of us. Not belowground or aboveground or anywhere that he could have possibly gotten to through the dungeons. Does this mean that he plans to come back, I wonder, or is it just further proof to the contrary?"
"He has to come back," Godric said firmly, "He has to. He's Sal."
"And if he were here he would say something like, 'what amazing logic, how you reached that conclusion confounds even me'," Helga said, looking for a moment both immensely sad and amused.
"He can't come back," Rowena stated calmly, and their reality built on the past, their small dream, came crashing down around him, "For one thing, he is banished and even though we removed the spell right after he left, he has no way of knowing that. For another…" she hesitated, "I don't believe that he is in a place that would allow him to come back even if he wanted to."
"What do you mean?" Godric asked, dread once again rising in his chest, Please…
"Soon after he left, I noticed that the magical energy of the wards had spiked for no reason. I believe that he gave all his magic to his core-stone and with it, his life." Godric stopped breathing, his life? "There's a ninety-eight percent probability that this is what happened."
"Why would he do that?" Godric asked with a laugh that was partly fake and partly hysterical, "What would be the point of powering up the wards further when we could have done the same with a few spells?"
"Salazar and I were talking about the wards some time ago…Not very long after the wards themselves were set up. They're weaker than they appear. A well thought-out plan and a few well-placed spells could bring them all crashing down. He considered giving them part of his magic. I told him not to even think about it, that we didn't know what could happen. It was too unpredictable…With just the slightest slip the wards could suck his life out of him with his magic, and his soul, too."
"His…soul?" Helga asked quietly.
"The soul is the energy-source for magic and life, so the wards will keep him until they have enough magic stored for emergencies and can generate enough magic themselves to keep the castle running thereafter. With a castle like Hogwarts, it could take thousands of years."
"And not even a wizard could hope to live that long," Godric stated, collapsing back into the seat he was sitting on, "Not even a wizard…" I'll never be able to see him again. I'll never be able to tell him he's sorry.
Rowena hesitated and then spoke again,
"There are…records, of times when Lords would sacrifice hundreds of people to establish ward around their homes. And hundreds of years later, thousands, even, sometimes people would claim to be the reincarnation of one of those sacrificed. Which doesn't make a lot of sense, since the Theory of Reincarnation clearly states that if a person is allowed to remember more of their past life than vague images and dreams…Well, it just wouldn't work out. But, considering that the process disrupts the soul's natural flow, it is theoretically possible that at some point in it's reincarnated life, they will or might remember their past life…though probably only the one previous to it, the one that was 'interrupted'.
"Is it possible to somehow…extract Sal's soul from the wards?" Helga asked. She could vaguely see where Rowena was taking this and didn't like it at all.
"Even if Hogwarts gave her consent, removing Sal's soul from the wards at this stage of the proceedings would result in its destruction."
There was a silence.
"Is there…any way…that I could…be reincarnated with him?" Godric finally asked hesitantly.
"If I do the calculations…It might be possible to…emerge at roughly the same time. But I would not allow you to leave without you allowing me to leave first. And more people would be easier to work into the equation."
Their eyes fell on Helga almost expectantly and then their eyes flew off her and to each other, almost guiltily.
"It's not as if I'll let you two go without me," Helga said slowly, "But we'll have to leave the school in good hands…How soon can you do the calculations?"
"I plan to set the calculations to around the day that Sal left, so that would give us several months to make sure that the school will be able to run without us, though we might leave on different days. Also remember that we are not leaving for a few days or months, we're leaving for hundreds or thousands of years. When we return the school might not even still be standing."
"It's not that I don't have much of a choice…but there's not much question as to my answer, is there? Oh, of course I'll be coming with you but…Just leaving the school…I'm not sure I'll be able to…"
"Well leave her in good hands. The other teachers love this school as much as we do. Someday it will be time to move on. It's just that this someday is much sooner than expected," Godric stated.
They left the room in heavy silence.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
There was a tense silence in the Hospital Wing while those who had worked together to help save the young boy's life waited anxiously for the results. Snape was down in the dungeons, working on the healing potions that Madam Pomfrey had requested, while Professor McGonagall was absent-mindedly conjuring up bandages, hot water, and other supplies that the healer had requested, not having the magic or concentration to spare as she fought desperately to keep the child alive. Dumbledore and Hagrid could only sit and wait for the results.
Finally the healer emerged from behind the white curtain that she had drawn around her patient's bed, more out of habit than anything else.
"He's going to make it," she proclaimed, collapsing, exhausted, onto one of the seats usually reserved for visitors, "It'll be a fight but if Severus finishes those potions and he continues healing so well…But Merlin, what a struggle. I haven't seen someone so torn up since the War." She hesitated and then turned to Dumbledore, "But the worst thing was…There were signs of abuse, Albus. Long term abuse. And those wounds were caused by a human. I can only imagine what sort of emotional scars he's going to have after all this. What are we going to do with him?"
"Is he a muggle?" Dumbledore asked.
"No, no, he's definitely got some magic in him. You can't get silver eyes like that on a muggle. He's probably from a long line of magical ancestors; last eyes I saw like that were on Sirius Black, and those were bluer."
"I do not wish to hand him over to the Ministry," Dumbledore mused, "And yet I'm hesitant to allow him to stay here. We'll need someone to look after him. Someone in the Order, until we can find out who this child is and where he got those wounds. I will have to bring it up at the next Order meeting. When will he be waking up?"
"I'm not sure at all. And I don't know what state his mind will be in when he does so. But if he wakes up, I will contact you immediately, or at least after I examine him. And I will inform you if he's in good enough condition to speak with."
"That would be excellent," Dumbledore said, "If there's nothing else that can be done, I will now take my leave."
And so he left and did not notice the school nurse's slightly unfocused eyes or slightly unnatural tone of voice, nor did he notice the silver eyes gleaming at him from behind the white curtains.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
For the first time since Cobra had appeared and started rounding up Death Eaters, the Order Headquarters was silent and grim. Moody looked approving of the new attitude but Dumbledore was worried. When their leader entered, everyone started talking, sounding remarkably like a group of reporters.
"Dumbledore, is it true?"
"I heard that one of the captives claims that she framed Harry Potter to go to Azkaban!"
"It's not true, is it?"
"Oh god, please tell me it's not true!"
Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly and all the shouting stopped,
"It is true that one of the captured Death Eaters, a Cho Chang who went to Hogwarts and was involved with Harry, claimed under Veritaserum and truth spells that she framed Harry Potter for the murders of Mr. Seamus Finnigan and Ms Parvati Patil, as well as the attempted murders of Ms Hermione Granger and Mr. Ron Weasley (both of which are, luckily, sitting here today) using a forbidden potion. We are looking into whether or not it is possible that what she spoke was untrue, misunderstood, or misspoken," He thought he heard a badly stifled snort of derisive laughter coming from somewhere near Severus Snape or Draco Malfoy but when he looked the two of them were impassive as ever, as well as Luna Lovegood and the Weasley twins who were sitting nearby. He frowned slightly and wondered why they were sitting where they were. The Weasley twins were well known for how much they despised the potions professor and vise versa.
"If it proves to be true," Dumbledore continued, "We are working on appealing for another trial for Harry, with the new evidence that we have collected. We will do everything that we can to be sure that whoever was truly responsible for those deaths is brought to justice and that Harry is freed." There were cheers from the Order.
"Surely you aren't serious," Remus Lupin said loudly, standing up and ignoring the pang that always came with those words. 'No, I'm Sirius,' his friend would say… "Harry Potter is a murderer."
"We are just now learning that he might not be, Remus," Dumbledore said calmly, "If he proves to be innocent, we will give him what he deserves, is freedom and pardons."
"He deserves to be locked away forever," Ron Weasley snarled, "Who's to say that one of the Death Eaters didn't just catch Cho and change her memories to get their precious Potter back?"
"If you'd paid any attention in potions during your seven years at Hogwarts, Weasley," Severus Snape drawled, "You would know that it is impossible to fool Veritaserum with such simple things as memory charms." The Weasley twins looked torn between defending their brother and giving Snape a pat on the back for putting him in his place. In the end they settled for just sitting there and looking angry, though at which party it was hard to tell.
"If Harry Potter proves to be innocent, we will give him a trial," Dumbledore stated firmly, "We cannot let another innocent man waste his life away with the dementors." He looked pointedly at Remus, whose spirit and argument collapsed at the reference to Sirius.
"…Nothing more than a stinking traitor…" Ron muttered but was otherwise silent.
And so the Order meeting continued.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
"Headmaster!" Madam Pomfrey called through her floo-link into Dumbledore's office.
It was a week later and the Order had made no progress identifying the unknown boy (who had yet to wake up), nor had they made any progress with disproving Ms Chang's statement that Harry Potter was framed. In fact, it was alarmingly easy for them to find evidence that pointed to the contrary.
"The child has regained consciousness!" Pomfrey exclaimed excitedly, when the Headmaster turned to show that she had his attention.
"Has he?" The Headmaster said, seeming relieved, "That's excellent. I will arrive there at once. Will you leave the Floo channel open?"
"Of course."
"Then I will be there in a few seconds. See you there." The healer nodded at the obvious dismissal and her head disappeared from the fire as she pulled it back to her office. A few seconds later, the Headmaster stepped out of her fireplace, brushing soot off of his robes.
"The child has regained consciousness," Madam Pomfrey repeated, "and appears to be in good shape. However, mentally…He seems very frightened of me and so hasn't said much yet. I have nothing further to tell you."
"Thank you, Poppy. Will you wait nearby?" She nodded silently in response, her anxiousness freezing her vocal cords.
The headmaster walked into the hospital wing hurriedly and then froze, seeing terrified silver-grey eyes watching him carefully. Slowly, he approached the bed and sat down a small distance from it. The child flinched.
"Hello," Dumbledore said gently, "My name is Albus Dumbledore and you are at my school. Do you know how you got here?" The boy shook his head, a silent negative, but did not relax.
"What is your name?" He tried again, trying to make his voice even gentle and adding a hint of the trust spells that he usually used to make other people have confidence in him.
"D-Devin" the boy muttered, his voice terrified.
"No last name?" the boy shook his head emphatically, "Well then, Devin, here at Hogwarts we'll do our best to make sure you're happy. We will never do anything to hurt you, Devin, I promise you. But if I don't know where you came from, then the men at the Ministry will come and take you away. Can you tell me anything about where you came from? Your last name?"
Again, Devin shook his head.
"Very well, then," Dumbledore said gravely, "I must confess, I am very disappointed in you. The Ministry will be here in a couple of days. I hope you change your mind."
"I don't remember!" the little boy shouted, "I don't remember anything! I don't remember anything but 'Devin'!" Long, matted black hair fell to cover his eyes as he rocked back and forth slightly, hidden silver eyes unfocussed.
The Headmaster's eyes widened slightly as he realized his mistake,
"I'm sorry, Devin, I didn't realize. We can tell that to the Ministry and they won't be able to take you away, don't worry." But the boy curled into a miserable ball and did nothing but whimper no matter what Dumbledore said. Eventually the headmaster gave up and left, telling Madam Pomfrey that her patient had gotten upset at his questioning.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
"And so," Dumbledore finished his explanation, "I cannot take him because I am busy working on Harry's trial. We don't know who he is or where he came from yet but he needs someone to look after him. It has been decided that he will stay at Hogwarts. You have all come here because I believe that of all the suitable candidates, one of you should look after him." He carefully did not mention the Order, as not all of the people present belonged to the anti-Voldemort organization. The Hogwarts staff looked at their employer dubiously, but none more so than Severus Snape.
What in the world was the Headmaster getting at? Did he think that, out of all of the people in the Order, he was one of those best suited to look after a child? At his side his apprentice was looking at the clearly upset child curiously as Dumbledore held him in a way that the child made look awkward or even painful. Pain and fear-filled silver-grey eyes looked up at him pleadingly and Snape sighed. If it came down to it, he knew that he could not refuse to take the boy. Draco could take care of the brat, anyways.
"We can take care of him," Hermione offered in her best 'motherly' voice, probably taken directly from Mrs. Weasley.
"No!" the young boy shouted, wriggling out of Dumbledore's uncomfortable grip and, to everyone's surprise, running to hide behind Snape.
There was an awkward pause in which Snape attempted to shoo the boy away from him but the child had Snape's robes in a tight grip.
"Perhaps," Snape suggested silkily, inexplicably smug from the fact that the young boy had chosen him over Granger, "his…condition…was caused by a woman. He may be less inclined to get along with females." Some of the women gasped sympathetically and Granger muttered something about "bigot" and "sexist".
"Well then," Dumbledore suggested jovially, twinkle returning to his eyes, "That would suggest that you are the best person to take care of him, Severus." How the Headmaster had come to that conclusion, Snape had no idea, and he told the Headmaster as much while other members of the staff voiced their disapproval.
"Well, Professors McGonagall, Sinistra, Hooch, Vector, Sprout, Trelawney, and Granger are all out (as well as Ms Lovegood and Ms Weasley), as they are all women; Professor Flitwick has Ms Weasley as an apprentice, so that would not be an ideal place for this young boy to stay either; Professors Lupin and Gawain (not present), both not having worked at Hogwarts previously or for some time need more time to organize their lesson plans; the child is not comfortable around Professors Hagrid and Firenze, as well as Mr. Filch; and as much as I myself would like to look after this delightful young boy, I have too many things that need to get done before the beginning of the next school year, not to mention Harry's trial. In short, you are the best person to look after this child."
In other words, Snape translated, You cannot bother to find a more suitable home for a child and you do not care as long as it is not you. Therefore you dump him on me because it's the most convenient for you and the rest of the Order, since I am no use to you without my position as a spy.
"Headmaster, I simply cannot accept the responsibility. I have no experiences raising a child and my living quarters are filled with poisons. I am the least suited to look after this child." A hard poke in his side caused him to look down at his apprentice and Draco took the opportunity during his slight distraction to speak up.
"We'll take him."
"We will not," Snape protested, glaring at his apprentice.
"Your apprentice seems perfectly fine with the idea. And I'm sure the other teachers will agree to look after him for short periods of time."
"Headmaster," Professor Sprout protested, "If Severus is unwilling to take the boy we shouldn't force it upon him."
"There are no other options," Dumbledore stated, "Perhaps Remus can take care of him part of the time but everyone else is very busy at the moment." The werewolf had flat-out refused to participate in Harry's trial.
"Headmaster, I cannot…"
After a couple minutes of arguing, the child was forced on him despite all of his protests and he was sent to his quarters to put the child to bed. Like some common nursemaid! He thought angrily. He looked at the child at his side; Devin was staring up at him adoringly.
"Well, let's find you somewhere to stay," Snape muttered gruffly.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Finally, the day of Harry Potter's second trial came (well, third, but who was counting?). The wizarding world had once again managed to turn a grave (and rightfully so) occasion into some type of festival. It took place, just as his first (technically second) trial had been, on his birthday and people lined up hours before the start to get a good seat. Throughout the whole affair people hardly sat down, milling around and talking with whoever the stumbled upon as if it were just a huge party. Several people were even drunk.
Bran looked at the chaos going on above him with disgust. Even the room was shaped rather like a muggle theater or Greek coliseum. He was once again in a bad mood; he knew there would be an unhappy ending for the Ministry and, as official 'Scribe and the minister's personal transcriber, he was well placed to take the fall for anything that would and could go wrong in this trial. And he just knew that something would go wrong.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Devin looked around, bored. Today was the day of Harry Potter's trial, so most of the staff was at the Ministry, including Snape and Draco. Remus, however, stayed behind and so Devin was sent to stay with him. Devin didn't like it with Remus, however; there was something…wrong about the man and it scared him. Once again he wished that Snape was there too look after him instead.
But all that aside, there was somewhere else he had to be. His eyes practically glowed with the knowledge and so he carefully crept over to the werewolf. Remus looked over at him and smiled tiredly. Devin smiled sweetly back at him and reached up towards Remus face, which towered above him. Remus was unsure what to do but, upon further urging, picked up the child. Devin's smile widened and he touched Remus's forehead. The werewolf fell over unconscious and Devin, landing neatly, left the room.
There was somewhere else that he had to be. And finally he was going to be able to go there.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
There was a sudden hush in the huge courtroom as the talkative crowd caught site of Harry Potter, being marched into the courtroom by, not dementors, but human guards. After all, this was a public trial. The wizarding world took one look and Harry Potter and did not like what they saw. Though his tattered prison robes had been replaced with clean, decent-looking ones, they still looked ugly and too big for his thin frame. Though the dirt and grime had been cleaned off with a few quick scourgifys, his skin seemed to hang off his bones in an unhealthy-looking way and his skin was pale, as one reporter said, 'like something dead and bloated you'd expect to find floating in a lake.' His hair, longer than before and hopelessly tangled, though no longer quite…greasy, still retained an oily type of unclean look. His eyes were dull, his figure was slouched, and, with his small size and the huge cloths, he looked all too much like a child. And he was crying brokenly.
The wizarding world seemed shocked at the broken little boy sitting in front of them. Somehow they expected a heroic Gryffindor to march defiantly out of Azkaban perfectly intact and ready to forgive them all and defeat Voldemort for them. The sobbing child in front of them shattered all illusions they had.
And so the trial began.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Sali looked around the place in wonder. The ministry was truly huge and he was truly lost. Once again he returned to the atrium, the huge dome-shape echoing the minute plinking sound of the water falling in the fountain. The place was deserted. Two girls walked past him hurriedly, muttering to each other.
"We're going to be late!"
"It's not my fault that you slept in!"
"I slept in? You didn't even wake up until I dumped that water on you!" And, indeed, the other girl's hair was slightly wet.
"And you only did that after you woke up, which was three hours later than you set the alarm!"
"So the clock's cheap. Go complain to my parents, okay? It's not my fault I don't have any pocket money!"
And so on and so on. The two girls continued bickering as they ran down the hall and out of site. Sali stared after them blankly. Then, shrugging, he followed them. Maybe wherever they were going there was someone that would know where the office of the person he was attempting to find was. Maybe. It couldn't hurt.
All he had wanted, he mused, as he ran down the hall before the girls could completely disappear, was to find a man that offered to help Sali look up werewolf rights.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
The trial continued relatively peacefully. Fudge would ask questions and Harry would whimper and rock back and forth and Dumbledore would answer for him, doing his best to sound benevolent and kind. And so it went until something shattered the peace. Nobody was sure what set it off, that sudden change, and certainly nobody suspected that it was a signal. But that detail is unimportant as of now.
Harry let out an earth-shattering scream, thrashing wildly. The thousands of people watching from around the court flinched and covered their ears. The sound was haunting, unearthly. Damon apparated (or, rather, Slid) into the room through the hundreds of wards that made sure that none of the prisoners escaped, though none of the magical persons currently in the room seemed to remember that it was supposed to be impossible. They stared, watching fascinated as Damon scooped up the fragile boy, never once thinking that a known Death Eater was in a position to easily kill every one of them.
"It's all right. I won't let them take you, Harry. I'm here. Don't worry…" The boy made whimpering noises but otherwise didn't say anything, though his wild flailing had subsided.
The crowd was whispering amongst themselves, demanding to know what has happening.
"Harry…" the closest person, Albus Dumbledore, was watching the boy with carefully concerned eyes.
"Don't speak to him, you bastard! You're the one who did this to him; you and the rest of these hypocrites."
"Sal…" Draco was watching the scene with wide, terrified eyes.
"You're no better than the rest of these imbeciles! He told me what you did, what you were…what you said. You have no right to try and talk to him! Do you even know what you've done to him?"
"I know…I know he left. We…I…made him leave." Draco was trembling visibly.
"He died that day, you idiot!" Damon hissed. Draco flinched violently, "He died because you were too wrapped up in your idiotic prejudices, Gryffindor."
"Mr. Faunus, you are a known Death Eater so I must ask you to step away from Mr. Potter," Dumbledore's eyes were cold, "Mr. Potter has yet to be officially proven innocent so further contact with him could be taken as aiding a known convict. Let it be known that we will put all our efforts into hunting you down if you don't leave Mr. Potter alone." The other wizards seemed a bit taken aback that he was acting as if Harry was still guilty when they had already welcomed him back as their hero before realizing that it was for Harry's own safety and happiness. Of course.
"You think you can make me? My own recourses far outstrip your precious Order combined with any other people who you have in your power. Hell, I'll even let you combine recourses with Voldemort; you still won't be able to find us."
Damon stood and, carrying Harry, turned towards the crowd,
"For the record," he gave a Snape-worthy sneer, "My name is Damon Gwynfor Faunus and I have something to say to the rest of you hypocrites.
"You expected a child to fight a battle all of you were too afraid to fight yourself. You manipulated him into your expectations and abandoned him when you saw fit. Well, this time you have gone too far and I will step in. Harry will come with me and become what you would not allow him to be. I shall take Harry with me. I will allow him what you would not. Harry will come with me and be reborn as the seventh month dies." It took a minute for the impact of these words to hit the wizards listening to him. Then they started shouting, standing up and calling out, their voices drowned out by the overall noise that filled the room. The Order members just sat there, stunned.
Hazel eyes turned angry silver and brown hair turned black as the good-natured Order member, now thought of as a traitor turned into the wizarding world's current savior, a shadowy-black cloak materializing around his shoulders and half-covering Harry. He glared at the wizarding world, ready to give them one last piece of his mind.
From within Damon's arms, emerald eyes glittered with identical malice.
"Go to hell," Damon snarled and Slid the two of them away.
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
So my comments on some of the scenes I wrote (going backwards):
Trial scene – I was going to try that to do that trial scene, I really was. But, um, I didn't end up doing it. I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I said it wasn't my fault
Founder memory – How's that for some explanations? I'm glad I wrote the Founder's part…I didn't know half of this stuff before I started writing it
Ashwinder memory scene – I'm sorry; I know I messed up a bit on the ashwinders. I hadn't read the Fantastic Beasts book in a while and that's how I truly thought it was, about the ashwinders dying with the fires instead of just dying after a few hours. But I like it this way and I will not be changing it.
Up next – the aftermath of the trial and the plot finally gets moving…maybe. Not sure when that'll come out, though.
And for some reason I had to go through the whole thing again because messed up my italics.
Please, please review! I love reviews! I like to know what the readers think! I love long reviews, too! So please, please review!