Author's Note

Everything I know of trials and such comes from watching Law & Order and it's various spin-offs.

Chapter 5

The Ministry of Magic

London, England

January 14 thru 17, 1998

"You sure you want to sit with me?" asked Xander to Hermione as they entered the already packed courtroom. He looked around them uncomfortably, observing those around him carefully. "Most of these folks don't look too happy."

"I'm not happy about it myself," said Hermione with a frown. She then touched his arm casually and continued, "But friends stand by each other, right?"

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled.

"Yeah. Thanks, Hermy."

She huffed in response to the nickname and he gave her a nudge with his elbow, saying, "Y'know you like it."

Mud brown eyes glared at him and he grinned mockingly before bowing, gesturing for her to precede him to a pair of empty seats.

"M'lady."

"Arse," she shot but there was no malice behind it. Scooting past a pair of wizards that were having a rather heated debate about the outcome of the trial, she took the seat nearest the pair as she noticed Xander's suddenly stony expression. He settled woodenly into the chair beside her and crossed his arms, the baggy sleeves of his borrowed robe pooling in his lap. She bit her lip, not knowing what to say to him, then reached out and touched his arm.

"Mmm?" he mumbled distractedly as he tilted his head toward her, his eyes fixed on the two empty tables at the fore of the room where the defendant and prosecutor would be sitting.

Hermione smiled and softly said, "If you keep scowling like that someone's going to figure out your relation before Mister Lancaster wants them to."

Xander scoffed at that but visibly tried to still his scowl. It didn't work very well but he tried.

A door behind the judge's podium opened then and nearly the entire room was on its feet, shouting in anger. Xander clenched his teeth, glaring resolutely down at his lap, as he and Hermione remained in their seats, both knowing who had just entered the room.

Several minutes later the room settled after the judge had shot something that resembled a firework out of his wand. Xander looked up then and stared grimly ahead as the trial began, absently noting that Hermione gripped his hand tightly in her own.

The days of the trial passed quickly, filled with testimony from various members of the Hogwarts staff, Auror's, and Ministry experts. When the final day came, it was time to bring out the big names.

"I call Mister Harry Potter to the stand."

Hermione made a noise at his side and Xander turned, spotting a thin but well-built young man heading for the witness stand. He was dressed in all black except for the shirt he wore under his robes, which was a dark bottle green, with his dark hair spiking in several different directions. And even from his place across the room, the Scooby could see the telltale scar that had made the youth famous.

As Harry took his place on the stand, Hermione muttered to Xander, "I didn't expect them to call Harry last. Do you…"

Xander shook his head to cut her off and patted her hand, saying, "It'll be fine."

At the front of the room, the prosecutor had begun his questioning of Harry.

"Mister Potter, do you remember the events of June 13, 1997?"

"Yes," replied Harry stonily. "Kind of hard not to."

"Could you please inform the court of what happened that night?"

Harry sighed then said, "Professor Dumbledore was killed by Severus Snape, who then escaped from the grounds with Draco Malfoy."

"And how did he die?"

The youth on the stand arched an eyebrow as though to say 'You have to ask?' then spoke.

"The Killing Curse. Avada Kedavra."

"That sounds so much like abra kadabra it's almost funny," commented Xander under his breath to Hermione. She smiled tightly in response then they both turned their attention back to the activity at the front of the room.

"And as we all know," said the prosecutor to the room at large, "Mister Potter is the only known wizard to have survived that curse."

"Is there a point to this?" asked Gray Lancaster, Snape's lawyer, as he rose to his feet.

The judge frowned and looked at the prosecutor.

"Mister Wilkins?"

"I'm getting to it, your Honor."

"Then do it faster," said the judge, leaning back in his chair. "Continue."

Wilkins nodded then turned back to Harry, who was watching the conversation with an impassive gaze. "Mister Potter," he began, "how long have you known the defendant?"

"Since I was eleven," replied Harry.

"And what sort of interaction have the two of you had since that time?"

The dark-haired youth scowled and looked at Snape, who was staring at the tabletop in front of him.

"At the beginning I respected him as I would any of my other professors. But it soon became clear that he didn't like me and wasn't likely to begin doing so anytime in the near future."

"How odd that a professor at Hogwarts would garner a dislike for a student so soon," said Wilkins to the room. He then turned back to Harry and asked, "Did you ever discover where this dislike came from?"

"Yes. Professor Snape…"

"Mister Snape," corrected Wilkins. "All titles connected to his name were stripped from him when he fled."

Xander snarled wordlessly at that, clenching his free hand tight enough that he could feel the pressure of his fingernails starting to break skin. His title as a Master of Potions was one of the few things his uncle held dear and they took it away from him at the drop of a hat! They hadn't even done that when he'd been accused of being a Death Eater, for God's sake!

On the stand Harry frowned then began again. "Mister Snape," he carefully began, "went to Hogwarts at the same time as my father. Over the years I learned that they had come to dislike each other very strongly."

"And why was this?" asked Wilkins.

"They…" Harry frowned and glanced nervously at Snape before he continued. "My father and his closest friends often picked on him, embarrassing him, playing pranks on him; whatever came to mind at the time."

"So, a childhood rivalry between members of two different House's. Not so different than today, yes, Mister Potter?" Wilkins smiled coldly and said, "After all, you yourself had a rivalry with Draco Malfoy.

"No, we just didn't like each other," said Harry, looking annoyed now. "It was very different than that between my father and Snape."

Wilkins waved a hand, dismissing that, then asked, "So, Mister Snape's dislike of you came on the grounds of what? That you were your father's son?"

"As I understood it, yes."

"Hmm, hardly the behavior of a professor at a school full of impressionable children," said Wilkins, addressing the room again. "Mister Potter, would you say from your experience with Mister Snape that he is capable of killing?"

"Yes," replied Harry. His green eyes narrowed as he growled, "If you don't recall, that's the reason why we're here."

The prosecutor looked hardly put off by the annoyance of his witness and continued, "And what do you think of the rumors that Albus Dumbledore had planned this? That he had asked the defendant to kill him?"

Harry was silent for a long moment then he closed his eyes, saying, "Professor Dumbledore trusted Snape for a reason no one knew…"

"Not true," grumbled Xander, causing Hermione to look at him oddly. He smiled grimly and said, "He told me," before turning back to look at the front of the room.

"…and maybe it was a good one. Maybe not. I'm not sure what I think about those rumors as I can't see him doing such a thing but…" Harry trailed off with a distant look in his eyes then came back. He finished, "But sometimes people get pushed to do things they don't want to do."

"That doesn't answer my question, Mister Potter."

Harry blinked then sighed, saying, "I don't know what to think of those rumors."

Wilkins scowled then said, "Thank you, Mister Potter. The prosecution rests, your Honor."

The judge nodded in response then turned to Lancaster, who was already on his feet. "Mister Lancaster, your witness."

"Thank you, your Honor," said Lancaster. He walked over and leaned on the edge of the witness stand, running one hand back through his graying black hair. "Mister Potter…have you ever had any reason to doubt before the death of Albus Dumbledore that my client was not worthy of his trust in him?"

"What exactly do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Has my client ever done something to make you think that he would do something like this?"

The young man frowned then shook his head, saying, "No."

"Please elaborate," requested Lancaster.

"Well…there were times that we – me and my friends – suspected Snape of things but he always turned out to be on our side. In our first year, we thought that he was the one after the Philosopher's Stone but that it turned out to be Professor Quirrell under the influence of Voldemort." The winces all about the room at the name of the Dark Lord did not go unnoticed by Xander and he sneered. "We also thought that he'd been the one to attempt to throw me off my broom during a Quidditch match but that also turned out to be Quirrell."

"Is that all?"

"No," replied Harry with a shake of his head. "He kind of defended me when it was rumored that I was the Heir of Slytherin in second year."

Lancaster nodded then asked, "So, you would say that before the events of June 13, you had no reason to think my client would do such a thing?"

Harry bit his lip then replied, "No."

"The defense rests then."

The judge nodded then looked down at Harry, saying, "You may step down, Mister Potter. Mister Lancaster, call your next witness."

As Harry moved down from the stand to return to his seat, Lancaster said, "I call Mister Alexander Harris to the stand."

Murmurs went up at the sound of a unfamiliar name and even more as Xander stood, looking very out of place with his very worn looking Muggle clothes underneath his open robe. Hermione squeezed his hand reassuringly and he smiled at her before making his way forward.

Both Harry and Xander paused as they passed each other, eyes studying features carefully. Then Xander smiled and said, "'Scuse me," as he stepped around the other youth, making his way towards the stand. He could feel Harry's eyes on his back the entire walk and wondered what sort of reaction Hermione's friend would have when it was revealed just who he was.

As he settled into the witness seat, Lancaster stepped forward. Xander looked at him expectedly, knowing what was coming. They'd gone over it twice before after the lawyer had told him what he could expect from the prosecution. As the man had said Wilkins was probably going to be hard on him on his cross-examination, the Scooby had wanted to laugh. He'd faced vampires and demons so one little wizard wasn't going to make him go running in fear. Make him nervous as hell, yes; make him run away, hell no.

"Mister Harris," said Lancaster as he approached, causing the youth to cringe. The lawyer smiled apologetically, knowing the youth preferred to not be called that but as they were in court he'd have to deal with it. "How long have you known my client?"

Xander looked over at his uncle, who was staring right back at him, worry clear to anyone who knew how to look for it in his eyes. Then he turned back to Lancaster and replied, "Since I was around seven."

Wilkins and half the room blinked as he spoke, obviously confused as to why an American would be at the trial for a British citizen. The prosecutor rose and asked, "Your Honor, what exactly is this boy's relation to the defendant?"

"I trust Mister Lancaster is getting to that," replied the judge, frowning at the defense attorney.

Lancaster nodded as Wilkins sat then turned to Xander.

"Mister Harris, please tell the court what your relation to my client is."

Xander didn't pause as he replied sharply, "He's my father's half-brother, therefore my uncle."

Gasps and murmurs went up around the room and he was fairly certain he picked up somebody nearby whispering, "I told you he looked like Snape!"

When the room died down again, Lancaster asked, "How did this occur? Forgive me, but it's fairly obvious you're American."

"No prob," said Xander. "As to how it occurred, well, y'know, there's that story about the birds and the bees…"

"Mister Harris, kindly answer the question without any rigmarole," said the judge sternly.

The Scooby winced and apologized, "Sorry. Just a bit nervous."

The judge nodded slightly then Lancaster pressed, "Please answer the question, Mister Harris."

"Alright. Granddad Harris apparently met Eileen Prince whilst here on a business trip. They were together for about two years but after my father was born, she left. Just up and vanished without a trace." Xander shrugged and continued, "Granddad came back home with a son and apparently Grandmother married Uncle Sev's father a few months later."

"And why did he contact you?"

"Most of his family is dead," replied Xander. "Pretty much the only one's left are me and my father, so I guess he wanted to see if we wanted to have anything to do with him."

Lancaster nodded and asked, "And did you?"

"I did. Can't say the same about my father."

"Why is that?"

Xander sighed and replied, "He's a Squib and he's always hated Grandmother for leaving him and Granddad to go marry someone else."

"So he knows of our world."

"Living where we do, it's kind of a requirement."

Lancaster frowned now, as Xander had never mentioned anything during their rather short conversations about where he lived in America. "And where would that be?" he asked.

Xander frowned and shifted before replying, "On a Hellmouth. Y'know, center for converging mystical energies and whatnot."

More murmurs exploded throughout the classroom and he looked around to see his uncle giving him the 'You bloody idiot' expression he knew so well. Near the back of the room he could also see Hermione's look of shock and a glance towards the other side of the room revealed her friend Harry's arched eyebrows.

"A Hellmouth…" muttered Lancaster. He gave Xander an odd look that made the young man squirm then coughed, saying, "Interesting. What exactly did you think of my client when you discovered he was related to you?"

"Does 'Thank God' get the point across?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Xander sighed and said, "Look, my family life isn't the best and the idea of having a relative that seemed to at least somewhat care how I did in life was nice." He looked around the room then as he continued, "Call him Death Eater, murderer, whatever…he's my only relative that gives a shit about me."

Lancaster frowned in silence for a moment then asked, "How many times have you seen my client since you were first introduced?"

"He's always visited at some point during the summer. Even keep's a place in town to stay at. Though since things have been heating up over here, there's been less and less time for him to make visits."

"He doesn't write to you?"

Xander shook his head, replying, "Not often. We both prefer to speak in person."

Lancaster nodded then asked, "And has he ever killed anyone that you know of?"

"Yes."

At a gasp from the room, Xander quickly amended, "But those were before Voldemort's first fall. After I know of none."

"I see. And you stand loyally by him, do you not?"

"Of course," replied the youth, turning to give his uncle a warm glance. He then fixed the room around him with a piercing gaze and continued, "I would never stand by him if I though he killed Dumbledore without a good reason."

"He had a reason!" shouted someone from the balcony. "He wanted favor with You-Know-Who!"

"And how do you know that!" bellowed Xander, instantly on his feet and glaring at the accuser above him. He jabbed a finger up at the man who had gone pale now and shouted, "Were you there? Can you read his thoughts?"

"I…I…"

"Just as I thought," snarled Xander, narrowing his eyes. "You know nothing. So sit down and leave the adults to play, why don't you?"

"Why you little…!"

"ORDER!" shouted the judge, his wand letting off a loud bang as he flicked it in the air. He glared at the wizard in the balcony then turned the scathing gaze on Xander, who was still glaring at the wizard. "Another outburst like that, Mister Harris, and I'll have you thrown out. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," replied the youth in a low growl. He then turned back to Lancaster and said, "I believe that Dumbledore and my uncle had this entire thing planned…at least in some small form."

The defense attorney nodded then looked at the judge, saying, "No further questions, Your Honor."

"Very well. Mister Wilkins, your witness."

"Thank you, Your Honor," said the prosecutor as he rose. He smiled at Xander in an oily fashion, which the youth responded to with a scowl he'd copied years before from his uncle. The man looked off balance for a moment then regained it as he began his cross-examination.

"You say that you believe that the accused and Albus Dumbledore planned his death, correct?"

"Yes," replied Xander.

"Do you have anything to prove this is true?" asked Wilkins, causing a twitter from somewhere up in the balcony.

Xander glared briefly in that direction then locked eyes with Wilkins and replied, "No, I don't. But that doesn't mean that there isn't any."

The prosecutor nodded and folded his arms behind his back, studying the young man for a moment. Then he smiled and asked, "If this was planned, then why did the accused flee after performing the Killing Curse? And why did he not turn himself in during these past months?"

"His first concern would have been getting his godson to relative safety," replied the youth. "As to why he didn't turn himself in, would anyone have listened long enough to him if he'd shown himself? Or would they have fired first and asked questions later?"

"Why they would have listened to him, of cour…"

"Bullshit!" spat Xander, eyes flaring with anger. His hands clenched on the railing of the witness box as he snarled, "I saw the Auror's that guarded him and the contempt they held for him. If he'd shown himself to them, they'd have killed him rather than take him in!"

Wilkins smiled.

"Now you don't know that for certain, Mister Harris."

"Ask one of them. I'm certain the Auror's that captured him are around here somewhere." He smirked and added, "Have fun."

"I'm sure I will, Mister Harris," said Wilkins. "And I'm certain that they will answer in the negative."

Xander arched an eyebrow as if to say 'Oh, really?' then waited for the next question. The prosecutor looked at him for a long moment, hands clasped loosely behind his back, before he spoke again.

"Did your uncle ever tell you about his affiliations with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"No, I found out accidentally."

Wilkins nodded, saying then, "So he tried to then hide it from you…"

"Wrong," replied Xander. "I saw his Mark when I got my letter from Salem and was nearly scared to death by this gigantic bird perched at the end of my bed. He came running into my room to see what was wrong When I asked, he tried to get around telling me but I'm a stubborn kid and wouldn't let him. So he gave up the ghost and told me."

He looked around the room then, continuing, "He made a stupid mistake. Everyone's done that in their youth."

"Yes, but he has carried it on into his adulthood," said Wilkins with a smirk. "There's no excuse for that except that he wanted to continue serving the Dark Lord."

Dark eyes flashed and the youth growled, "Didn't anyone tell you, Mister Prosecutor? No one leaves ole Moldywart's ranks. Not alive, at least."

"And how would you know such a thing?"

"My uncle's the guy sitting over at the defense table, remember?"

The prosecutor glared at him for a long moment then regained his composure.

"So you're saying that he had no choice in whatever he chose, aren't you?"

Xander shook his head and replied, "No, that's not what I'm saying. What I mean is that he that he had a handful of choices to make and none of them were one's that he wanted to. But he had to pick something."

Wilkins frowned and started to open his mouth then closed it quickly, turning towards the judge and saying, "The prosecution rests, your Honor."

"Very well then. Mister Harris, you may step down."

Nodding, Xander rose slowly and let the stand, meeting his uncle's dark gaze as he swept past the defense table. He then turned a dagger sharp glance onto the crowd in the courtroom, not meeting one eye but somehow managing to glare at most of them. When he reached the row where Hermione sat, the wizard on the end looked up at him and growled, "Take your filthy murderer blood and move on."

Hazel eyes darkened and for a moment a flicker of power snapped around Xander's hand in a spurt of bluish lightning. He clenched his hand then and looked away from the wizard, all of the muscles along his jaw tightening. For fear that if he even said something he might set the guy on fire (or something worse), he turned and walked completely out of the room. As he plunged through the doors, he heard feet running after him as the judge said, "The jury will now adjourn to review the evidence. Court will reconvene tomorrow for the hearing of the verdict at one in the afternoon."

The bang of the gavel echoed in his ears and he shook his head, snarling incoherently as he collapsed against the wall. A hand gently touched his shoulder then and he sprang back, the hyena spurting to the forefront briefly before he could shove it back down. Luckily he fought down the soldier's instincts first and didn't end up gripping the wrist attached to the hand and breaking it.

After a moment of leaning against the wall on one hand and finally getting control of himself, Xander looked up at Hermione and grimaced.

"Sorry."

"It's…okay," she said slowly. Then she asked, "Are you okay?"

"No," replied Xander in a low growl, a bit angry when he heard traces of an actual growl in it thanks to the hyena being so close to the surface. "I am very far from being okay, Hermy."

She nodded and looked at him for a long moment before whispering, "Are your eyes supposed to glow?"

He blinked.

"What color?"

"What?"

"What color?" repeated Xander.

Hermione frowned and said, "I just told you your eyes glow and you want to know what color?"

"Hermione, just tell me."

Heaving a sigh, she replied, "Green."

"Okay, good, I haven't become the mystical butt monkey again."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at that and before she could say anything, Xander explained, "Look, let's just leave it at that I've been possessed twice, okay?"

"Okay. Do you…oh, Harry!"

Xander turned his head slightly and grunted at the dark-haired youth standing behind him and looking at him with an expression he couldn't quite determine. Then he realized that it was Hermione that he was looking at with that expression and his innate sense to protect his friends rose to the surface.

"Quit looking at her like she just ran over your puppy," he growled darkly, glaring at the shorter young man.

Emerald eyes blinked at him then Harry scowled before turning to Hermione.

"What are you doing with him?"

"I've come with him here every day because he has no one else here," replied the young woman. She lifted her chin defiantly as she continued, "And nothing either you or Ron say will keep me from being around him."

He looked at her for a long moment in silence then threw Xander completely for a loop when a grin spread across his face and he caught Hermione in a hug.

"Oh, good," he said as he released her, smiling sheepishly. "You're not under a spell."

Hermione frowned and slapped his arm hard, making Harry wince.

"How dare you insinuate such a thing!"

"I'm sorry!" exclaimed Harry, holding up his hands in case she went to hit him again. "I just…"

"You just what!" growled Hermione.

The Boy-Who-Lived sighed and ran a hand back through his wild hair before looking apologetically over Hermione's shoulder at Xander.

"Sorry," he said after a moment, "but I don't know you and I don't want anything to happen to Hermione."

"I understand completely," said Xander. "All of my close friend's back home are female. I don't want anything to happen to them either."

Harry nodded then took a step back when the other youth lunged towards him, grabbing the front of his robes tightly and jerking him close to his face.

"But let's get some things straight," growled Xander, this time letting the hyena out a little so his eyes flickered green and there was a true growl in his voice. "First off, I would never do anything to Hermione. Second, I don't know a flicker of magic excepting a couple of spells I heard from a friend who's studying Wicca – completely different than your wand waving mumbo jumbo – so I can't possibly cast anything on her. Third, I don't give a rat's ass what you think of me or my uncle, so don't even start with that. Get all that?"

"Yeah," replied Harry, looking a bit nervously now at him.

Xander nodded and let him go then turned to Hermione, face now a mask of calm.

"I think I'm gonna head back to my room at the Cauldron."

"Okay," she said. "Do you want me to come over later? We could go out and eat again."

"Not tonight, Hermy," breathed Xander. "Got too much going on in my head right now."

She nodded and gently touched his arm, smiling.

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah."

With that he turned and walked off, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans and shoulders drooped. Xander frowned as he felt a gaze on his back that he knew was Harry's until he went around a corner and he sighed.

"Great impression on the girl's best friend, Harris. Just flippin' great."

Sighing, he headed for the elevator that would take him to the main floor, already planning to head to his room and hit the sack. He probably wouldn't sleep a wink but he wasn't about to move anywhere after he got to his room until the hearing of the verdict the next day.

Back in the corridor, Harry looked down at Hermione with a worried expression and asked, "Are you sure you know what you're doing, Hermione?"

"And what is that supposed to me?" she snapped.

"Look, I'm not going to tell you not to continue seeing him. I…I'm just worried about what could happen to you."

Hermione sighed, her anger fading, and she reached up to touch her friend's cheek. Green eyes looked at her and she smiled gently.

"I know you're worried, Harry," she said. "But I know he's a good person."

They stood there for a long moment before he sighed.

"I trust you," he breathed. Then he looked up, his eyes hardening, and growled, "But if he hurts you, I'll…"

"I know," she said before taking his hand and leading him away from the courtroom as two Auror's escorted Snape out. Tugging Harry into the elevator, she asked, "Want to get something to eat?"

Harry smiled and nodded, replying, "Yeah, I'd like that."

Hermione smiled back then leaned her head against her friend's shoulder, because she knew that after this trial was over he and Ron were going back out to look for Voldemort's Horcruxes. And they were leaving her behind as she thought she had a lead on information about them.

"Nothing's ever going to be the same, is it?" she whispered.

Harry looked down at her for a moment then wrapped his arm around her shoulders with a sigh.

"I don't know, Hermione. I just don't know."

Author's Note

BtVS time is after Bad Eggs, thru Surprise and the beginning of Innocence