The Hearing

John slid down onto the stone floor, breathing heavily, waiting for Harry's hearing to run its course. Mr Weasley paced nervously. Neither of them spoke. After a moment, Dumbledore came flying down the corridor, and into the courtroom, leaving a rather old woman standing outside with them.

She glanced at them and nodded, then stared at the door, clutching her bag tightly and waiting. Eventually, she was called inside as well.

'Witness,' Mr Weasley muttered at John's questioning look.

The minutes crawled by, and John didn't particularly feel like getting up, even though his breathing had returned to normal, so he remained sitting on the floor.

Not long later, the old woman came back out of the courtroom.

'How's it going?' John asked her, looking up.

'Dumbledore will sort it all out,' she said, though her voice shook. She shuffled away, leaving John and Mr Weasley alone again.

It dragged on and on, until the doors opened.

Dumbledore hurried off, but Harry came over to them.

'Cleared of all charges,' Harry told them, sounding immensely relieved.

Mr Weasley peeked into the courtroom behind him. 'Blimey, Harry, they've not tried you in front of the entire Wizengamot?' he said.

'Er, I think they did,' Harry said.

'Blimey,' Mr Weasley said again, cleaning his glasses on his shirt.

John rubbed his head, Sherlock's anger crashing through it. 'Shh,' he muttered, anxiously staring at the door behind Harry.

Mycroft's head poked around the door. 'Come on, John, let's get this over with.'

John took a deep breath, smoothed out the creases in his jumper and walked inside. He stifled a gasp. He'd been here before, in Dumbledore's Penseive. The visions bubbled around him, but Sherlock helped him push them away.

The walls were dimly lit by torches, empty benches rose on either side of him, but the benches ahead were filled with many shadowy figures. They had been talking in low voices, but as soon as the heavy door swung closed, an ominous silence fell.

A cold male voice rang out across the courtroom.

'Take your seat.'

John dropped his gaze to the chair in the centre of the room, the arms of which were covered in chains. He'd seen those very same chains spring to life and bind whoever sat in the chair. Even now, he saw a figure sitting in it, flashing between all the people he'd seen sit there before. He stared at it, frozen to the spot, until he felt Mycroft's hand on his shoulder and the figure disappeared.

'Sorry,' he muttered. His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked across the stone floor. When he sat gingerly on the edge of the chair the chains clinked threateningly, but did not bind him. Already feeling sick and dizzy, John looked up at the people seated at the bench above.

There were about fifty of them, all wearing plum-coloured robes with an elaborately worked silver 'W' on the left side of the chest, all of them staring down their noses at him.

In the very middle of the row sat Cornelius Fudge, to his left a square-jawed witch wearing a monocle, and on his right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back on her bench that her face was in shadow.

Sherlock's anger rose again, and John closed his eyes until it died back down.

'The accused being present, let us begin. Are you ready?' Fudge called down the row.

'Yes, sir,' said an eager voice, and John realised with a jolt that it was Percy Weasley. He was sitting right at the end of the row, eyes fixed on the parchment in front of him, a quill poised in his hand.

'Disciplinary hearing on the twelfth of August,' said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Mycroft sighed audibly beside John., 'into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Undrage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by John Hamish Watson, resident at number twenty-two, Kings Road, Chelmsford, Essex.

'Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley.'

'Witness for the defence, Mycroft Holmes, Head of the Department of Mysteries,' said Mycroft. 'Must we go through this again, Minister? Surely we all have more important things to be doing.'

'Due process must be followed,' Fudge said shortly.

'Due process?' said Mycroft. 'Since when was dragging a fifteen year-old boy before the entire Wizengamot, for something so trivial as a bit of underage magic, due process?'

'The boy must face consequences for his actions,' a high, girlish voice said. It came from the woman whose face was still hidden in shadow, and everything flashed pink for a moment when John heard it.

Mycroft sighed again. 'Yes, of course, Madam Undersecretary, but I highly doubt that this is not something Madam Bones could have handled herself. We all trust her judgement, do we not?'

'We are already past questioning whether or not he should be here,' Fudge interrupted loudly. 'We are all here now, so let's get on with it… So… charges, yes…' He extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read out, 'The charges against the accused are as follows:

'That he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, produce the Locking Spell, the Silencing Charm, the Impediment Jinx, and the Shield Charm, on the night of the seventeenth of July, in a Muggle inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, which constitutes several offences under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy.

'You are John Hamish Watson, of number twenty-two, Kings Road, Chelmsford, Essex?' Fudge said, glaring at him over the top of his parchment.

'Yes,' said John.

'You received an official notice from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that it is illegal to use magic away from the school grounds, did you not?'

'Yes.'

'And yet you produced these spells on the night of the seventeenth of July?' said Fudge.

'Yes, but-'

'Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?'

'Yes, but-'

'Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?'

'Yes, but-'

'Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?'

'My mum, you mean? Because I'm fairly sure she already knows I'm a wizard.'

'Answer the question, Mr Watson.'

'Well yes, but-'

The witch with the monocle, Madam Bones, cut across him in a booming voice.

'These spells all have defensive applications. What were you using them for?'

'There were Death Eaters in my house. They wanted to kidnap me.'

There was a low murmur around the room.

'Death Eaters?' said Madam Bones. 'Why would they want to kidnap you?'

Fudge gave an unpleasant smirk. 'The boy believes himself a Seer,' he said. 'I thought we might be hearing something like this.'

'I am one,' John insisted angrily.

'A Seer?' Madam Bones said with interest.

'Yes! I'm a Seer, they wanted to use my power, so they attacked me when they knew there weren't any other wizards around to help me.'

'We've been through this, Minister,' said Mycroft. 'I saw the Death Eaters myself, there is no need for this drawn-out trial.'

'You witnessed them?' Madam Bones asked, leaning forward intently. 'How many of them?'

'Three,' said Mycroft. 'They Disapparated before I could apprehend them.

'How did you know to go there?'

'As Mr Watson has already stated, he is a Seer, therefore was forewarned of their arrival. Though he did not have time to leave the building, he was able to alert my brother Sherlock, and myself. Upon arrival, it was clear that Mr Watson had been put under the Imperius Curse, which was then broken when the Death Eaters escaped.'

'Why did you not apprehend them, Mr Holmes?' Fudge demanded.

'I was ensuring Mr Watson and his mother's safety, forgive me, Minister, but I assumed that would be the priority.'

'But how are we to be certain that they were, in fact, Death Eaters?' Fudge said, his face beginning to turn red. 'They could have been anyone.'

'They were wearing those masks,' said John. 'Those white ones, and they…' He stopped himself from describing how they felt, but Madam Bones caught it anyway.

'They what?' she asked.

John hesitated. 'I could feel their connection to Vo- You-Know-Who… because I'm a Seer…'

'Unfortunately, we are unable to substantiate feelings,' Fudge said scornfully. 'Why would there even be Death Eaters about? If there are any left, they've all been in hiding for years.'

Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Now, the Wizengamot will be aware of the Death Eater incursion of the Quidditch World Cup only a year ago.'

'There is no need to remind us, Mr Holmes-'

'It appears there is a need, Minister,' Mycroft snapped. 'If you would deny their existence, then I would continue to remind you. And I will remind you all again, that I saw these Death Eaters myself, or do you perhaps believe me a liar before the court?'

There was an uncomfortable shifting along the benches, but no one responded.

'I grow tired of this Minister,' Mycroft continued, then raised his voice so it filled the courtroom. 'As you all know by now, Clause Seven of the Decree states that magic might be used before Muggles in exceptional circumstances, and as those exceptional circumstances include situations which threaten the life of wizard himself, or any other witches, wizards or Muggles present at the time-'

'We are familiar with Clause Seven, thank you very much!' snarled Fudge.

'Of course you are. We are all in agreement that Mr Watson's use of these spells falls precisely into the category of exceptional circumstances the clause describes?'

'Yes, but-'

'Then let us not carry this on any further, and I assure you, we shall not make the holding of a full criminal trial for something so trivial as underage magic a regular occurance, am I quite clear?'

'You cannot-'

'I can. We have presented our defense and answered all of your questions, and I am quite certain that the Wizengamot has better things to do than interrogate teenagers. Madam Bones, if you would?'

Madam Bones frowned, and turned to the rest of the Wizengamot, where they all began whispering.

John's heart hammered in his chest, but it wasn't the verdict he was worried about. His vision flickered violently pink and back again, and he was worried he might pass out in front of the whole court.

The Wizengamot all took their seats again, but Madam Bones remained standing.

'Those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?' she said in her booming voice.

John's leg bounced anxiously, but Mycroft stood quite still and calm.

All but Fudge's hand and the witch's on his right went into the air.

'And those in favour of conviction?'

There were only two.

'Very well, well,' said Fudge, his voice distorted by barely suppressed rage. 'Cleared of all charges.'

'Excellent,' said Mycroft. 'I trust we won't be forced through this mockery again, Minister? Very good.' Mycroft turned on his heel, closely followed by John, who was more than happy to leave the chains behind, and swept from the dungeon.

Welcome back! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I'll see you again next time!