Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything in the HP Universe.

AN: Thank you all for reading, following, favouring and reviewing. Have some Oreos as a thank you!

I am completely addicted to Oreos at the moment. The book Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda and its movie adaption are at fault. Watching and reading this I somehow wish I had a coming out in school. Which I hadn't (for me it was always obvious that I am not hetero) but I was this nerdy antisocial girl with the I-am-not-interested-in-the-world-or-people-so-they-have-no-business-being-interested-in-me-attitude, nobody ever asked so I never told. The book and the movie make me wonder what could have happened.

I am terribly sorry that it took a while for me to update. I give Yuri! on ICE and the brilliant work by Heidi Cullinan the fault (both are equally addicting), I am trying to read all her books in the moment. My favourites are Carry the Ocean, Antisocial and Special Delivery, for now.

Actually, the trial scene was really hard to write for me, so it took a while.

But thankfully I have my wonderful and brilliant beta a-bit-of-madness, she helped a lot to finalize this and deserves all the hugs and Oreos of the world.

Additionally, I started the year with a mild concussion, which didn't make writing easier. But at least that means the New Year can only get better.

Have fun reading.

On with the story.

Chapter 11: The trial

Marvolo had nearly bit all the way through his cheek to prevent himself from smirking in satisfaction. So far, everything was going perfect. Madam Bones had given her opening statement, summarizing the story and the need for this emergency session and an immediate hearing in which he could present his case, as well as the Law of Haxby, on which the case was based. There was more than one shocked gasp when she revealed who he was. Angry, frightened and intrigued gazes were directed towards him, but the overall expression was shock and fear - and Marvolo bathed in it.

They thought Voldemort would be a monster, but here he sat as a mere man. He was not proud of what his alter ego had done, but it was still enjoyable, making all these oh-so-mighty old men sweat. Smug satisfaction filled him at the thought, and he bit his cheek again.

A vote would follow to decide if he would be given the opportunity to bring forth his case. Marvolo was quite sure if the vote was negative, they would try to throw him into Azkaban the minute the doors of the chamber opened and the Aurors could reach him, but the witches and wizards before him knew now who he had been, and he would not go without a fight. The name Lord Voldemort continued to evoke fear, even amongst the esteemed members of the Wizengamot.

There was a grand total of forty-five seats in the Wizengamot, twenty-eight of which were inherited and seventeen belonging to various department heads and elected members.

Originally, the inherited seats had been passed down through the old pure-blooded families, but overtime many of the families had gone extinct – their seats becoming dormant - or had been sold, gifted or merged by way of marriage.

Marvolo couldn't be completely sure, as some families did hold more than one or two seats, but it looked like the current Wizengamot was in full attendance,. which was sure to work in his favour - even if Dumbledore had the backing of most of the seventeen non-inherited seats and the seats of the Houses of the light side like the Longbottoms and Abbotts.

The moment he had stepped into the Wizengamot chamber, Marvolo had consented that the magic of these chambers could and would push him to accept the outcome, but he also knew the chamber's magic ensured that the Wizengamot members could not vote negatively if they had even the slightest suspicion that the accused was not the end there were only seven votes against an immediate trial, and Marvolo carefully memorized who had cast them. As soon as the vote was completed, Dumbledore closed the session and called for a short break to prepare for the hearing. It was glaringly obvious that those who had voted in favour of the trial saw this as a chance to throw Marvolo in Azkaban by legal means, but he didn't care in the least. Even if that were the outcome, it wouldn't make a difference, the Dementors were already in his corner.

"From the reactions so far, I don't think the trial will be a problem." Thaddaeus gestured to the wizards and witches still seated, parchments in hand. "Most of them are reading over the Law, since it's only been used once or twice in recorded history. It's incredibly simple though, they won't find any loopholes, and with the presented evidence, the probability of losing is almost zero." The solicitor smirked slightly at him.

"And even if they wanted to convict me out of pure malice, the magic of the Wizengamot chambers would prevent them from voting against their better judgment." Marvolo added.

With a loud bang, the doors to the chamber closed again as Dumbledore took his place and the Court Scribe, several Aurors and members of the Department of Mysteries - easily recognizable from the colour of their robes - took their seats. Marvolo didn't even try to suppress the excitement filling him.

Somewhere in the English countryside a snowy owl flew towards a small village in between green hills, her destination a house on the border of the village- or to be more precise, the impressive Greenhouse behind it.

A boy and girl sat on a bench in front of it, enjoying a cool drink in the afternoon heat. Pale eyes watched dreamily as the snowy owl flew towards them, landing in the girl's lap. "What is Hedwig doing here?" The boy asked, confused.

The girl hummed and gently caressed the owl, which clacked with her beak and extended the leg with the letters to them.

"Oh, see she has letters for us." The girl gently removed them. "Do you want to rest here, or do you already have to leave to bring the letter to Hermione?" She gestured to the last letter bound to the bird's leg.

Hedwig ruffled her feathers and nipped at her finger.

The girl nodded. "I understand. You're right, of course, it is best that you return to Harry as fast as possible. Give him a kiss from me." The girl cradled Hedwig in her arms for a moment, before she lifted her to take flight. With a hoot of farewell, the owl was on her journey again.

The boy started to open the letter and read, but was stopped by the girl, who placed her hand above his holding the parchment.

"Let's get inside. We need a cup of tea to read these. I think it will be highly distressing. I fear Wrackspurts are making Harry's brain extra fuzzy at the moment."

The boy nodded and made his way to the house while the girl followed him, only to stop before she stepped inside. She looked after the white speck, rapidly growing smaller and sighed. "Harry, remember, things we lose always come back to us in the end. And sometimes they come back in the most unexpected ways or in the form of the most unexpected persons."

With a last glance at the sky Luna turned around and followed Neville inside.

After Dumbledore had opened the trial officially, Madam Bones, as the Head of the DMLE started reading out the long list of Lord Voldemort's crimes. The List sounded like they simply had written down all possible crimes they could think of: mass-murder, terrorism, the use of the Unforgivables, torture, treason, breach of the Statute of Secrecy, kidnapping, imprisonment, the use of Dark Arts… it was rather impressive.

Once the reading had been completed, Thaddaeus had given the defence's opening plea and presented the pensive memories as evidence. A specialist from the Department of Mysteries had inspected them and declared them to be genuine and untampered with.

Marvolo had trouble containing his laughter as he observed Dumbledore, after he and the rest of the Wizengamot had watched his ´memories`. Most of the witches and wizard before him were not hard to read, at least not for him. Before seeing the memories, they had looked either negative or passive, some with the typical air of condescension of the old pureblood families. Now, they certainly looked suspicious, but also horrified by what they had seen. More and more faces had intrigued expressions and - he scoffed - some even held something akin to pity.

He did not like that, never had, but it would play in his favour.

The old man though, was definitely suspicious of the authenticity of the memories, judging by the short glance he sent in Marvolo's direction. But as they had been accepted as evidence and declared untampered, he could not voice any of his suspicion. He would look foolish and risk the rest of the court declaring him compromised.

Next, they had presented the medical report from Healer Farley. The name brought with it a rush of whispers - it seemed her reputation was well known in the Wizengamot. As they read the findings of his mental, magical and physical health examinations, more and more of the witches and wizards before him changed their negative and passive demeanour.

Not even Dumbledore could put aside these findings completely. As he stared at Marvolo with an expression of bewilderment and confliction, it seemed his old professor was not sure anymore if what he had believed to know previously still was true, if perhaps he had misjudged him all these years.

The mirth rose in Marvolo again and he bit his cheek hard enough to taste blood.

After looking through the evidence, Thaddaeus had presented his case in more detail, explained – again - why he did fall under the Law of Haxby and why he was also not guilty of the crimes Lord Voldemort had committed since he had been resurrected, pleading not guilty for most of the crimes.

The next part was where Marvolo would have all the fun.

"The accused has consented to the use of Veritaserum in the interrogation if the court wishes to do so."

The astonished whispers rose with Madam Bones' statement. It was a bold move. Veritaserum normally was not used in a hearing, because it's effect could be countered by different methods, Occlumency amongst them. It was regarded as unreliable, especially because the drinker only stated the truth as he believed it to be, Therefore, it was a risk to use it in court.

A ward went up between Marvolo and the Wizengamot members, and he watched them discuss the matter. Obviously, there were two factions, the ones who wanted to use the potion and the ones who didn't. He was quite sure to which group Dumbledore belonged, but then the old man knew he was proficient in the mind arts and therefore the possibility for him to counter the potion was high. Marvolo watched in amusement as the discussion got heated. It took a while for the matter to be settled but when he was addressed again, he already suspected what the result would be.

"The Wizengamot has decided against the use of Veritaserum. It will be noted that the accused had suggested the use on his own and was willing to take it." Madam Bones stated finally and Marvolo had to hide his smirk. He knew they would decide not to use the potion if Dumbledore could prevent it. Now the old man watched him, trying to dissect if he had wanted to be interrogated with Veritaserum or not. Marvolo could see the frustration growing in Dumbledore's eyes, the infamous twinkle entirely absent for quite a while now.

Madam Bones opened the interrogation, reminding Marvolo that the magic of the Wizengamot chambers would push him to speak the truth, if he lied outright the magic would notify the court. It was in no way a total compulsion, though. He could push the magical pressure away with a little bit of concentration and force of will, and easily lie by omission, Finally, the Chief Warlock addressed Marvolo himself.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle you were born on the 31st of December in London, your mother was the witch Merope Gaunt and your father a muggle named Tom Riddle. Is that correct?"

"Yes." Marvolo knew exactly where Dumbledore wanted to go with this kind of opening question. It would be public knowledge after the hearing that he was a half-blood, and the old man certainly hoped it would damage his standing with his old pure-blood followers.

"You grew up in a Muggle orphanage in London and knew nothing of the magical world before you started Hogwarts when you reached eleven. Is this true?"

"Yes." Marvolo was curious if the Chief Warlock would ask after his fifth year in Hogwarts and the opening of the chamber of secrets, but Dumbledore mostly asked about his muggle upbringing, and then about his time after Hogwarts. With every question Marvolo answered in a way that left him looking like a victim, Dumbledore grew more and more frustrated.

"Mr Riddle, you can't deny that you are Lord Voldemort and the crimes committed in his name, were either done by yourself or his followers." Dumbledore's tone became brisk.

Marvolo leaned back in his chair, resting his hands in his lap. "No, I can't deny that this body was Lord Voldemort, but I don't think of myself as that anymore. Since regaining my sanity, I think of Lord Voldemort as a separate entity who occupied my body, and I am horrified by the crimes committed in his name."

On and on it went, and Marvolo watched with amusement how Dumbledore tried to trap him, asking the same things again and again in different ways – about his usage of Dark Magic and being Lord Voldemort. He even tried to pin him down with his views on Muggles and Muggle-borns - till even his fellow Wizengamot members threw him irritated glances.

The mirth grew, till his face hurt in the attempt to not to smirk in satisfaction. The interrogation had gone perfectly for him and now he watched the debate of the Wizengamot behind silencing charms. It was obvious that more than one member was not happy with the old man and had no problem with making their opinion vocal. Beside him Thaddaeus sat seemingly unfaced by the mayhem they could only see - by now the old Lord Greengrass was screaming at Dumbledore - but the corner of his mouth was twitching.

Yes, it had went perfectly and Marvolo already knew he had won, by the expression Dumbledore wore he knew it too.

The afternoon had been relaxing for Severus, but he knew it wouldn't last long. It was only moments after he had left Malfoy Manor and arrived in his own living room, that the floo flared up behind him and the voice of the Headmaster called out.

"Severus, please come through immediately." Not even an explanation what he wanted. Severus sneered, pushing his irritation at the Headmaster to the back of his mind.

He knew already what the man wanted to talk about. Lord Nott had sent a house-elf to inform them how the trial went and moments later Narcissa had returned and they had watched the parts of it in the Malfoy family pensieve. Their Lord had other important matters to settle and was therefore still in the Ministry, one of them claiming the Slytherin Lordship and changing his name legally.

Steeling himself and carefully settling his face in a neutral mask, the Potions master called out the Headmaster's office and stepped through.

"Sit Severus, lemon drop?" Albus gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk and took one of the sweets himself.

"No, thank you. I presume you wanted to talk about whatever the Wizengamot business was?"

Albus sighed. "Yes, Severus. The emergency session was followed by a trial, which was highly disconcerting." He paused, and the weariness disappeared from his expression. There was the leader of the Order of the Phoenix and the powerful wizard again, Severus knew so well. It was unfortunate that they would be standing on opposite sides, now that the dark fraction had their leader back, but it hopefully would only be in the political battleground not an actual one.

It was not that Severus didn't respect the Headmaster, quite the contrary really. Even when Albus had used his guilt and shame against him, pressuring him into an oath to protect Lily's child, and manipulated him in the direction he wanted, Severus had still respected him. He resented the orders and the obvious manipulations and was completely annoyed by the grandfatherly act - and he feared that most of the time it wasn't even an act - but he still respected the Headmaster.

"It seems Harry did not lie or exaggerate in his letter. Lord Voldemort appeared today before the Wizengamot, demanding a trial. He looks completely human again, used his birth name and had found some obscure, old law which enabled him to get an acquittal from his crimes."

Severus hid his satisfied smirk behind a cough which Albus luckily read as shock. He looked gravely at the black-haired man and nodded.

"Yes, Tom Marvolo Riddle was declared innocent of the crimes Lord Voldemort committed before he lost his body and while being a bodiless spirit, based on the evidence that he was insane and therefore not completely responsible for the crimes done since his rebirth. He has to pay a heavy fine and pay all the repair costs needed for the Ministry. Additionally, he has to present himself at the DMLE in intervals of three months to check his wand for the usage of Dark spells, which he is forbidden to perform, and twice a year for a check-up on his mental and magical health at St Mungo's."

Hearing it from Albus himself made the victory of his Lord even more impressive, and once again Severus found himself biting back a smirk.

"Severus, I fear for Harry," he Headmaster continued. "I don't believe that Tom has really changed, even if he presented himself today as the victim, and I don't think that he will leave Harry alone, especially now that he only has Nagini and the boy left as his Horcruxes. A sane Tom Riddle is harder to handle and predict than an insane Lord Voldemort." The frustration was written all over Albus face.

"What do you suggest, Headmaster?" Severus asked coolly.

"I will call an Order Meeting for tomorrow morning. I am… unsure how to proceed as the whole situation is highly unpredictable and we don't have all the facts. Please, Severus see if you can gather more information and come directly to me after he finally called for you."

"Certainly, Headmaster." Severus stood and – before stepping into the fireplace – looked shortly at Albus. He had never seen him look so old and weary.

The first surprise of the day had been Luna knocking in the early hours of the morning on their door. His Gran had not been pleased to have an unannounced guest at first, but Luna had charmed her during breakfast. Or Gran had been too flabbergasted by the blond girl who had wandered into the dining room, greeted her and then talked about Nargles and Wrackspurts and the Rotfang conspiracy in the Ministry while buttering her toast, to say something.

Neville had only smiled and listened. He liked Luna, she was a good friend. She never treated him different because he was quiet and loved plants more than people, or because he wasn't as powerful as people thought he should be as the son of Alice and Frank Longbottom. And she was a hell of a fighter, holding her own during their fight in the Department of Mystery.

His thoughts turned towards the events like they had so many times in the last weeks. He had seen Lestrange that day. He had never thought he could hate someone as much as he hated her, and he was sure his boggart wouldn't be Snape anymore if he ever encountered one again. Her maniacal laugh, her taunts, her breath on the back of his head as she held him at wandpoint to threaten Harry...

Harry… who had lost his godfather because of Lestrange that day. Not that Neville had known that it had been Sirius Black, his godfather, who had fallen through the veil at that time. Luna had told him, afterwards. She had known. She was good at that- knowing stuff without you telling her.

Neville worried about Harry. He hadn't looked like he was okay when he had seen him last at the Hogwarts express. And why should he? He had lost his godfather, had fought Voldemort and his Death Eaters - again.

Harry, who had believed in him. Taught him defence the last year, showed him that he was better than he himself thought. Who had trusted him enough to take him with him to the Ministry. Harry who never showed people how much he was truly hurting, who sometimes preferred the quiet, like Neville. Who had many people he liked, but only a few he really called friends, only a few he really let in.

Neville knew people underestimated him because he was quiet. They often forgot he was there, but Neville was good at listening and observing. People were harder to understand than plants, but if you had the time to observe them undisturbed, they were not that hard to figure out. That was how he knew Harry was not happy at his relatives, he had seen the signs. He knew that for Harry, his godfather was not only a link to his dead parents, but also the hope for a real family, something he needed to believe he could have.

Neville understood this perhaps better than anyone. Not that he didn't love his Gran, but she was his grandmother, not his mother. As much as she loved him - and he knew she did behind her sometimes strict and cold exterior - it was not the same.

But it didn't look like Harry had even someone like Gran now that Sirius Black was dead. And wasn't that a devastating thought? The only one Harry Potter had, had been an escaped and – at least he thought so – innocent convict. As much as Ron and his family thought of Harry as being one of them, he was not, and Neville was sure that Harry never really forgot it.

So, since coming back for the summer holidays, Neville worried. How was Harry fairing? Should he write him a letter to remind him he had people who were concerned for him?

Till now he hadn't had the courage to write a letter. He had never written Harry, they hadn't been really close friends in their first four years at Hogwarts, would it be too much?

But now, now the second surprise of the day lay before him on the table. No, he hadn't written a letter to Harry, Harry had written one to him.

Beside him, Luna opened her letter and started reading,and with shaking hands, Neville opened his own. What would Harry have to tell him?

Hi Neville

I know I've never written you before, but I wanted to tell you a few things.

You're a good friend and a brave Gryffindor. Never let someone else tell you differently. Already in first year you showed what real Gryffindor bravery is all about. It is not about not fearing something, no, it is about standing up to your fears. Taking action despite them.

Think back to third year. Yes, we all stood before our Boggart in class, but most of our year-mates did it once. You did it every day. Every day you went to Potion's class. Every day you faced your fear for five years now.

That is true Gryffindor bravery, and I am not sure if I could do it.

I always run headfirst into situation without even thinking about fearing something. That's not bravery, it's stupidity and impulsiveness, and it often led to horrendous consequences.

I count myself lucky to call you my friend. You stood by my side this whole horrible year and I can't tell you how much it meant to me.

At the Ministry you truly showed what you are made off. Thank you for having my back.

Did you know that there was a prophecy about a baby meant to be the downfall of Voldemort? This prophecy fitted two babies, you and me. Voldemort chose me.

Since I know the content, I think about 'what if he had chosen Neville?'

Not that I wish that he would have chosen you, I don't wish my fate on anyone, not even Malfoy.

But it makes you think. Why me? Because I am a half-blood, like he is?

And more than often I think, you would be a better 'Chosen One'.

You don't run into situations without thinking. You are far kinder than me. You don't scare your friends with you temper, and you are by far a better friend.

But Voldemort choose me. And I did what the prophecy demanded. Theoretically Voldemort is no more. If you want to know more, talk to Hermione or Ron, or Luna, even if I didn't tell her details you know she knows, however she manages it.

Neville, you are a great wizard, stay as you are, kind and brave.

Yours

Harry.

Neville blinked… and blinked again, startled to discover that he had tears in his eyes. The thoughts in his head were chaotic.

A prophecy? Him a possible 'chosen one'? That would have ended in a catastrophe.

Harry… brave, stubborn, selfless Harry thought he would make a better hero? A mirthless laugh escaped him.

Harry… who thought him brave, a true Gryffindor, a great wizard, a better friend.

Worry churned his stomach. Why did it sound like a Goodbye forever?

A small hand grabbed his own and he blinked away the tears, looking into big pale eyes. Luna was smiling reassuring at him. "Everything will be fine. Different, changed – yes – but fine. This isn't a goodbye. Harry will be fine."

And Neville believed her.

Hermione Granger led out a tired huff as she stepped into her room, letting the shopping bags fall out of her hands and herself fall on the bed. Shopping with her Mum always resembled more a marathon than a stroll, especially because she had not been allowed to spend most of their time in the city in the bookstore. But for a short time, she had been able to forget all the things that troubled her, and there were a lot.

Not only was she waiting for her results in the O.W.L. examinations, no funny enough these were the last of the things she worried over since coming home from Hogwarts.

Not even the events at the Ministry of Magic were laying heavily on her mind. No, it was one of her best friends, Harry, who she thought over most of the time.

He had been so closed off after the Ministry. She did understand why, he had lost his Godfather and if she knew him even half as well as she thought, Harry had convinced himself that it was in part his fault. Yes, he had acted recklessly and impulsive, but he had acted based on the limited knowledge they had at that time, and they had trusted Harry's instincts. They had rescued them more than once in the last years at Hogwarts.

She knew her best friend was hurting, had heard about his explosion in the Headmaster's office and knew it hadn't helped, but something else had transpired there. She was sure Dumbledore had told Harry something very important and that it weighed heavily on him, but every attempt she made to coax him to talk to her had failed.

And something had happened at the Ministry besides the loss of Sirius. She knew Harry and the Headmaster had encountered Voldemort again, she hadn't seen him herself, had been unconscious and didn't know what Harry had endured exactly, but she knew that something in him had changed.

Harry had always been reserved, had always held his thoughts and feelings deep inside of him - and she felt privileged to be one of the few people he let in - but she had the suspicion not even Ron and she were allowed to see everything.

And then there was the matter of the Dursleys. Harry had never made a secret of his disdain for his relatives, and some of the things he had said over the years and Hermione's own observations made her highly suspicious that he friend did not tell them what really was going on behind the doors of 4 Privet Drive. It frustrated her to no end. She wanted to help him, but when she had tried to talk with Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore, both had made it clear that it was nothing. Surely not every family got along, but they were still his family, everything was fine, and it would do her no good to ponder on it. They hadn't taken her serious.

She hated it when she was not taken seriously, as if being a child somehow made her unobservant or stupid.

She had thought about talking with her parents about some of the things that worried her, but they would try to involve the authorities – of that she was sure – and she didn't know if that was a good idea, because it would be the muggle ones, not wizarding.

And now, Harry was alone in that house trying to handle the death of his godfather, one of the last links to his parents. She feared for her friend - and that didn't even take into account how the magical world talked about him now.

Hermione shook her head and pushed the locks of her bushy brown hair which had fallen into her face behind her ears in frustration. She felt so helpless.

"Hermione, there are letters for you!" Her mother's voice drifted up from downstairs.

"Coming, Mum."

Stretching she got up and walked into the kitchen, where her mother had put on the teakettle.

"They are on the counter, sweetie. Do you want a cup?"

"Yes, please." Hermione answered absentmindedly, picking up the two envelopes addressed to her. She frowned as she recognized not just Ron's messy handwriting, but Harry's chicken scrawl as well. Ron's letter she had expected, they had plans for her to stay at the Burrow with his family in August, and he had said something about Professor Dumbledore arranging for Harry to come too, in his last letter.

But the one from Harry? She hadn't really heard from him since the end of the school year. As always Professor Dumbledore had convinced them that it was not safe enough. Not for the first time, this summer Hermione questioned if she should go against his orders. But now it seemed that Harry had beaten her to it.

Gnawing on her lower lip in worry she set the letter from Harry aside and opened the one from Ron first. Somehow, she knew that whatever Ron had written was linked to Harry's letter.

Hermione

Harry has written to me. His letter is confusing and disturbing, and I am sure there is more going on that he is saying. Do you think your parents will let you come to the Burrow earlier?

I'm concerned for Harry.

He has told me that Dumbledore told him the prophecy and he had to kill You-Know-Who or be killed himself. And he talked about somehow fulfilling it while not being a killer. I think it's better if you read it yourself. I think you will get a letter from him too.

I hope you can come earlier, I have a really bad feeling about this.

Ron

It was short, confusing and messier than normal. The prophecy? Harry needed to kill or be killed? Her stomach turned at the thought. But that couldn't be everything. That certainly was not why Ron was troubled, and that he was, was obvious from the short letter.

But she did understand the gist of it and her eyes wandered to the other envelope resting on the table before her.

"What did your friend write?" Her mother's voice cut through her thoughts while setting a cup of steaming tea in front of her.

"Ron is asking if I can come to the Burrow earlier than originally planned. He's worried about Harry. He doesn't make much sense, but I didn't read Harry's letter yet." Hermione looked at her mother shortly and picked up Harry's letter.

"Sweetie, we had some plans for next week, but if it is important then we can cancel them, and you can go earlier. We don't understand much of your magical world, but friends are important in every world. You told us that Harry went through a lot of traumatizing events and he is your friend. We can't do much, but your father and I, we want to help. If letting you stay with your friends for the rest of the summer is helpful, then so be it. Read his letter, perhaps you'll have a better idea what is going afterwards." Her mother stroked her hair.

"Thanks Mum." Hermione got up from her chair and gave her a short hug, before settling down again. With a deep breath she opened the letter and began to read.

AN: Thanks for reading, let me know what you think.

So that's it. Finally the trial is done.

Many thanks for a-bit-of-madness for helping to improve my grammar and spelling.

First published: 16th of January 2019