Chapter Eight
The reaction was merely a few murmurs that didn't sound happy or the least bit impressed to know who was coming. Otherwise, there was silence in the courtroom that stretched on after the on-duty Auror went to fetch the witness. Aside from that, there were many traded glances between those sitting in the gallery's seats that expressed more than simple words would have done. In fact, most were hoping that the entire testimony could be carried out with eye blinks and yes-or-no questions.
It was fervently hoped by everyone that industrial-grade Silencio spells could and would be used, including Lord Morley-Liddlecoat.
After being dismissed from the witness chair, Dan Granger had been escorted to the public gallery by an Auror, who was quite amused at all the hubbub and whispers that followed them. He had wanted to stop to thank Dumbledore for his actions, once he'd been told that the old wizard had caused his medal to change. Dan wasn't surprised that Dumbledore said nothing, as he was pretty sure the usually flamboyantly dressed old man was up to something sneaky.
However the brief trip outside had kept him from that, as the ICW section of the courtroom was not close to the witness door. In any event, he was all too glad to have Emma at his side so that he could release some of the shock with her loving presence. He might have been SAS retired, but that didn't mean he didn't feel fear. The feeling of being trapped with that green beam rushing at him had been terrifying and he wasn't going to lie about that at all if anyone were to ask. Emma being here with him now made all the difference.
The witness door opened again, and like everyone else, Dan looked to see who was coming in. He had heard a few mutters from Hermione over the past few months and few hisses from Harry about 'Umbitch,' which concerned him a bit. It was especially worrisome when it was his daughter saying things like that, since it had to be bad in that case. Dan and Emma both wanted to see what this woman looked like and discern for themselves if there was a pointed tail and maybe some cloven hooves.
The first through the door was an Auror, who swept the room with a large frown on his face. Emma thought to herself, that poor man looks like he has a terrible headache right now. If she had been able to ask the Auror, he would have told her exactly that. There would have been other language added to it as well that he would have later felt the need to apologize to her very profusely for it.
The look on his face – the frown, the drawn eyebrows practically knitting together over sparking blue eyes, the narrowing of those same eyes and tightened jaw – gave warning. Quite a few people in that room knew Senior Auror Hamish Scott, and most had shared pints or time at the dartboard with him. Everyone was trying to remember the last time they'd ever seen him with quite that look on his face and failing miserably.
In fact until today, they would have been hard-pressed to say that he was even able of doing it since everyone was too used to seeing him laughing and being one of the most genial people known. It wasn't unheard of for him to go around checking on people that had fallen on hard times and quietly helping them out.
While everyone was focused on the popular Senior Auror and the very, very odd look on his face (and wondering what caused it while also wondering if they could avoid it,) the next person stepped through the door. Dolores Umbridge moved forward without any notice for several feet and a few shuffled steps and looked around without a bit of happiness in her expression.
The courtroom was already silent since most of the inhabitants had been wondering what was going on with Senior Auror Scott. It was quickly broken by an awed voice that crackled.
"Lord God Almighty. That woman looks like the south end of a northbound mule with bowel problems. Somebody get her… hell, I don't know. A wet towel for that dried on cracked make-up or a trowel maybe and a warm enema."
Dan Granger had intended to express himself quietly. He really did. He just wasn't aware that the amplification charm arranged around the defense and prosecution tables had over time started to weaken in its focus. As a result, its area of effect had broadened just enough that the first row he was seated in and was leaning forward for a better look was covered.
"Wait a minute. That's not make-up. Damn. I feel sorry for her husband. Poor bastard's got to be on some good stuff or drinking a lot of whiskey if he's snuggled up to that."
The chuckles and some outright guffaws suddenly told him that he wasn't as discreet in his commentaries as he'd thought. Emma tugged him back in his chair and covered his mouth while she choked in mortification at his words.
"Dan! Be quiet!"
"But… damn, look at her." This wasn't picked up.
"Yes, dear, I know she looks like three-day old cold pizza but don't say anything that close to the rail! Something picked up what you said and broadcast it!"
"What?" He thought about it. "So I could say something about the trial?" He seemed to be lining up things to say later, most seriously.
"And get thrown out before Harry and Hermione come out!"
She knew he wanted to say something else and mock-glared at him to shut him up, but knew that was sometimes easier said than done. So she did the only thing she could at the moment and pinched his thigh as hard as she could.
Dan yelped and revised what he was going to say.
"Well, damn. Too bad they're still stuck in the back."
They were interrupted by the gavel. Eyes turned to the old wizard holding it, who looked a tiny fraction amused.
"Lord Doctor Granger, I'm assuming you didn't intend to say that?"
Dan stood up and approached the rail, trying not to rub his sore thigh.
"No, My Lord, I was merely surprised." At what, he didn't elaborate. More chuckles rippled throughout the courtroom at the non-admittance. "My apologies. There seems to be something odd about this area," he gestured between himself, the rail, and the tables. "I didn't think whatever was said in the public galleries was to be part of the court record."
The old man squinted at the innocent look of the dentist, and sighed.
"Perhaps there needs to be some maintenance of the charms in this room. In the meantime, guard your words."
"Yes, My Lord." The grave look Dan had on his face as he sat satisfied the Chief Warlock, but Morley-Liddlecoat knew better and kept squinting at the dentist for a moment before he sighed.
"Very well. Madam Bones, continue."
"Thank you, My Lord."
All eyes were upon her as Madam Bones stood up and walked to a point halfway between the tables and the witness chair. She stared at the woman seated in the chair and ignored the irritated looks Umbridge was giving the chains on the chair. As the magical oath was administered, there were a few speculative glances cast around the room. They remembered the last time the oath was administer and what happened. Many wondered who would try that stunt again.
More than a few wondered how fast or how slow the protective responses would be as they looked upon the figure of someone who was less than liked. From the look on the face of the junior Auror working with Hamish Scott that day, there wasn't a lot of bets being taken on the 'how fast' part of the general conjectures. He didn't look happy and to be frank, the man appeared to be a bit hopeful as he made sure he was well clear of the woman.
Umbridge sniffed her disdain as she took the oath, and more glances were traded along with some weary sighs. Those were carefully hidden from the Chief Warlock's gimlet eye, although for some reason Dumbledore looked on in silent amusement. For once, he looked like he was having fun.
=-{}-=
"The old fart still hasn't said a word, has he?"
"Sure hasn't."
"Huh. I didn't even think it was possible. He must be stopped up or something from whatever's in all those lemon drops."
"As long as you pay up later, he can stay silent and be stopped up for the rest of the month. I won't care."
"That's only two days away."
"Plenty of time for you to make good. Ten galleons, right?"
=-{}-=
Madam Bones was unaware of the byplay as she couldn't hear it. Her attention was focused on Dolores Umbridge.
"Is there a reason you're just staring at me, Amelia, or do you realize the mistake you've made?" the woman sneered.
"No mistake, Madam Umbridge, and I'll thank you to adhere to courtesy and address me as Madam Bones. My first question is, what function do you fill for Cornelius Fudge?"
"Minister Fudge, you mean?"
"Cornelius Fudge, as long as he's in custody and bearing in mind that he is on trial. Answer the question."
"I have no reason to."
The answer was snippy, and the effect of the nose held high in the air was ruined by Umbridge's rather short stature. The woman in the chair was silent long enough for a clear decision to show on Madam Bones' face. She turned to the Chief Warlock.
"My Lord, I ask permission to treat the witness as a hostile witness."
"Granted." The unsaid part on his face said and be quick about it.
Madam Bones nodded, and tapped a rune on the chair with her wand. The chains snapped into a tighter hold even though there really wasn't much less slack available. A barely-stifled protest croaked from Umbridge's lips.
"What's the meaning of this?"
"As you are known to be obstructive in nature and have clearly refused to answer the first question, I've asked permission of the court to have the chair enabled to help. It's now been allowed to fall back to an older form of magic that makes for, shall we say, more direct questioning on pain of untruth. That form of magic predates the laws on Veritaserum and underpins the very oaths under the Wizengamot and later the Ministry. From this moment on, any perjury you commit is immediately punished. Plus it avoids wasting time, which the Chief Warlock has specifically requested."
"You dare!"
Everyone could see a slight spark emanate from the links of the chains as they delivered a very light shock to Umbridge. This caused a sudden response and she jumped in the chair's embrace, pressing her body into tighter contact with the links as she squealed. Madam Bones continued as if nothing had happened.
"I don't. I utilize. Also, I would like to note that the first use of this function sets up precedent for this trial only and can be used with reason on any subsequent witness – as my learned colleague knows."
Trial Master Bateson nodded reluctantly to himself, but didn't look too pleased.
=-{}-=
In the gallery, Dan leaned toward Emma as he nodded toward the witness chair.
"Maybe it's a good thing I was the first witness, eh?"
"So long as you're not recalled for whatever reason."
"That's the truth. Magical World has some different rules about things, don't they?"
"They do. Now hush, I want to hear this."
"Yes, dear."
=-{}-=
"Now, Madam Umbridge, I believe the question was what function do you fill for Cornelius Fudge?"
Everyone could see the jaws tightened as she refused to answer. Madam Bones merely waited. It didn't take long, as the chains sparked again and the witness flinched again.
"Ow! I am the Senior Undersecretary! I handle administrative details and oversee day-to-day operations and special functions!"
"There's more to it than that, according to the Ministry of Magic's employee handbook, but I'll let that slide in favor of asking about the 'special functions' part of your answer. What 'special functions' are you referring to?"
"Things like social events, press briefings, emergency contacts…"
"And The Ostiary?"
Everyone could see the frantically tamped fear in the woman's eyes.
"The what? I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean?"
From the immediate jump, sizzle, and screech Madam Umbridge did indeed know. The viewers were riveted now to see what would happen, and no one liked her enough to protest the questioning. Even Lord Morley-Liddlecoat was watching intently, without grumbling.
"I believe you do, especially when I tell you that several of your 'underlings' gave Ministry-accepted depositions in lieu of testimony before agreeing to plea deals."
The gavel tapped down.
"Depositions, Madam Bones?"
"Yes, Chief Warlock. As Madam Umbridge seems reticent to enlighten us on what this 'Ostiary' is and the connection to Cornelius Fudge, it seems that now is a good time to display those depositions while she is in the chair."
"Trial Master Bateson, you have no objections?"
"None, as I don't recall any such department in the Ministry's organization chart. As such, it shouldn't apply to my client, but I'm curious to see what spurious trickery Madam Bones is trying perform."
There was a slight breeze as breaths were drawn in as the man indirectly called the Director of Magical Law Enforcement a liar. She didn't react but spoke calmly.
"That would be the case because it wasn't written down, which is illegal. Even the Department of Mysteries has a place on the chart, even though we aren't quite sure what exactly they do down there," noted Madam Bones. "As for the depositions themselves, we have the legal ability to display what could in the Muggle court system also be called 'interrogations.' We make no distinctions but in certain cases.
Morley-Liddlecoat squinted at the two and nodded after a moment. Those close enough to him could see the questions in his old eyes.
"Let's see those depositions. Madam Umbridge, you're not going anywhere. You can stop squirming."
Madam Bones nodded and motioned for her assistant to set up the court pensieve.
"As required under the criminal code of 1431 regarding memories as testimony, I note the presence of three separate seals on these vials. For the record, the first is the Senior Healer on Duty in the DMLE ward of St. Mungo's, the second is the duty Unspeakable, and the third is Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour acting in my place. These are placed on each individual vial and can only be broken at trial by the presiding witch or warlock in charge. The seals are such that they will refuse to work on any tampered memories, and work independently of each other."
Several heads in the public gallery nodded in interest, not having known that before. Madam Bones took the first vial out and glanced at the Chief Warlock, who nodded and twirled his wand with a sharp poke at the end. Everyone could see that the vial's cork wiggled itself out before burning up in a flash of cerulean-tinged flame, and the vial's clear surface faded into a smoky grey. This allow everyone to more easily see the bright silver memory as it poured out into the stone bowl.
Without further ado, Madam Bones tapped the rune sequence she wanted and stepped aside. The pensieve sat still for a moment, then projected against the blank wall the scene of a DMLE interrogation room.
In the middle chair behind a plain table, wrists bound by magic-restricting handcuffs threaded through a solid iron ring, sat a middle-aged wizard that didn't look like he'd had a good night's sleep in a few nights. Rufus Scrimgeour could be seen to one side, with an Auror operating a dictaquill to his other side. Just inside the field of view on the other side of the table was a rather grumpy-looking Auror that looked like he ate railroad spikes and spat out tacks. He said nothing throughout the whole memory, merely remained there as a silent warning to the bound man.
Everyone in the courtroom watched quietly as Scrimgeour gave the date, time, location, and identity of everyone in the memory and their purpose for being there. He identified the prisoner as Humphrey Slyfield, a middle-level manager in the Department of Magical Customs and Control before looking at the man.
"So I looked into your Department and discovered that there's no such department. But interestingly enough, you've been drawing a salary for the last ten years. Fraud is a very serious thing. Compound that by the last ten years, and you're looking at least twenty-five years in Azkaban. Maybe thirty. Want to explain that, and have a chance to be able to see your grandchildren one day with good behavior?"
The man broke quicker than a dropped egg onto jagged stone.
"I… I work at the Ostiary!"
"What is that and where is it?"
"It's a black-level department of the Ministry that tracks all the Muggleborn, Halfbloods, and people of lesser quality! Blood traitors, too!"
There was a pause in the memory then Scrimgeour asked, "For what purpose?"
The man was silent.
"Okay, your choice. Plenty of room at the prison, what with people dying from Dementor exposure."
Scrimgeour started to get up and the man burst out, "Wait!" The short chain on the handcuffs rattled and the thunk heard from one wrist jerking the other into the wooden table could be heard clearly.
"What? I don't have time to waste here, and you definitely don't."
"It's… it's intended to keep track of people that Minister Fudge doesn't like and wants to be rid of."
"Rid of? Rid of, how?"
"Permanently."
"Like dead permanently?"
The man was silent again just long enough for Scrimgeour to put the edges of his hands on the table in preparation to stand up.
"Yes! Yes, that! We'll get names every so often that he or Lucius Malfoy wants killed and we do our best to find and track until the best time comes to remove them!"
"Why?"
"It… it was explained to me that we would stand at the gates to purity and remove those that would threaten it by their impurity. That's why it's called the Ostiary."
"By who? Cornelius Fudge?"
"No, I never talked to him."
"Then who?"
"Madam Umbridge. She set up the whole thing, under his orders. Lucius Malfoy helped."
There was a sharper intake of breath that ran throughout the courtroom and Madam Bones made eye contact with those on the Wizengamot that would have met the criteria that Slyfield talked about in the memory.
The memory went on for a few more minutes, until the man broke down babbling about his wife and children and Scrimgeour terminated the interview.
=-{}-=
"Wow," Dan commented. "Sounds like some serious government corruption."
"It does, doesn't it?"
"Doesn't sound good for that man down there."
"Or her, either."
=-{}-=
"So, Madam Umbridge, we have your involvement in a group that directly contravenes the Ministry's charter to act in the best interests of the common wizard and witch."
"I have nothing to say to that."
"I thought so, however, I want to know about the group was financed."
"I have nothing to say to that, either."
"I do – or rather, I have another memory with the same stipulations as before."
When Madam Umbridge said nothing else but glared at Madam Bones, the DMLE Director shrugged and tapped a glowing red rune on the pensieve. This removed the memory deposition and deposited it into a sealed capsule, which Madam Bones set inside a lined box.
The new memory was added in the same manner as the first and the display runes tapped. This one showed the same scene with a different prisoner, who other than confirming what the other prisoner had said, was remarkably close-mouthed.
"Well, Madam Umbridge? That's two that have confirmed your involvement. Still don't want to enlighten us about the finances of the group you and Cornelius Fudge created?"
"No. I have nothing to say to a peon like you."
"Your choice." She turned to look at Lord Morley-Liddlecoat. "My Lord, I will now display the last deposition that will detail the financial underpinnings and Cornelius Fudge's fingers in the pie. Same stipulations as the previous two, but more detailed."
"Very well. Hurry up," the old wizard grumbled.
"Of course, My Lord."
The same procedure was followed as before and nearly everyone leaned forward to see what was to be displayed.
The smoky display sharpened into the same interrogation room, and more than one person watching wondered if the DMLE had anything else available. From the way annual budget funding for the department had been cut time and again, it seemed that they didn't.
The person in the chair was a pretty blonde woman that had a distinctly intelligent gleam in her eyes, but it was overcast with worry. The others in the room were the same as the others, and Scrimgeour went through the same motions as if reading from a script.
There was a bit of discussion about her Gringotts account and what little they knew about the way that the goblins' penal code was set up. The sigh Scrimgeour gave to the other Auror was not faked at all – they could see that. Besides, there had been private thoughts and discussions about that subject among many in the galleries at one time or another.
Everyone saw the woman lower her head and it was quite obvious that there was some major thinking going on in that head. The others in the deposition memory remained silent and waited for her. When she raised her head, there was a very, very different look in her eyes.
It was practically feral, and more than a few men watching the deposition memory shuddered to see it. More than a few seats creaked as they shifted to protect vital body parts from a perceived threat.
"I'm assuming from the look in your eyes that you have come to a decision? I have to remind you that anything you say can and will be used again you, okay?" Scrimgeour's voice was soothing.
"I hear you and yes, I want to say something. Don't interrupt me, all right?"
Everyone watching saw Scrimgeour hold up a finger to keep her quiet for a moment, before having the dictaquill changed and re-inked. This was quickly done.
"Very well, Mary Critchett. We are all listening. Say your piece."
There was a moment in the deposition memory where no one said anything, but when the woman spoke a fierce anger could be heard.
"I've spent my life preparing myself for a good career. The education from my da, who was himself good with numbers. Tutors from an early age on accounting and related subjects that aren't always taught in a magical household. Then Hogwarts. Then apprenticing, so to speak, with dwarves. Dwarves do a lot of math, didn't you know? They plan out every tunnel down to the fourteenth decimal place of a degree, which means it's very, very precise in every way. They taught me how to use numbers to see the flow of money in the same way they see the flow of dirt, crystal, and stone. Anything below the grass."
Everyone in the memory nodded.
"So to be set in my chosen career, I had to work at the Ministry since the dwarves didn't have any openings for me. They respected my ability, since they trained me, but if there wasn't anywhere to go then there wasn't anywhere to go. I started in the Magical Finance Department, being hit upon by every young, middle-aged, and elderly wizard that couldn't keep it in their robes – if they could even get it up. I saw more willies than I wanted to at my desk."
A few grimaces in the courtroom met this pronouncement, as they knew exactly what she was saying. She was a good-looking woman, even as tear-stained as she was now.
"I was ready to get out of there from all the harassment, until one day a message arrived offering me a place in another part of the Ministry as department head. Hideous pink parchment, the simply ugliest I've ever seen, but I jumped at the chance. All I was doing was being eye candy and a target for hands."
The scowl on Madam Umbridge's face was very visible at the mention of her parchment.
"They called it, 'The Ostiary,' which seemed pretentious to me, but who was I to say anything? It was freedom in a way, but after settling in and meeting with Minister Fudge and that toad Umbridge a couple of months in, I knew I was caught good and proper. They told me what I was really doing and I knew that I couldn't say anything much less leave for anywhere else."
"What was you doing?"
Critchett glared at Scrimgeour for the interruption but went on.
"I was providing financial analysis for any number of initiatives," she sneered the word, "that supported practically every Dark legislation and suppressed much of the Light or diverted the funds generated into Fudge's pocket. The books are there, under magical passwords. Try to open without them, and it all crumbles to dust along with the information within."
She went on to give the passwords, all twenty-six of them, what order to use them, and what days of the week to use them. Madam Umbridge could be seen turning purple, but she said nothing.
"And before you ask, Fudge, Umbridge, and Lucius Malfoy had access to the books. Why Fudge, I don't know, since he was about as bright as lump of coal and why Umbridge, I don't know, either. Malfoy, I could understand, since that man was almost as sharp with numbers as I am. He spent some time massaging the books for some reason or another to get funding and did a damn good job."
Eyes turned to Fudge, who had long since been the color of snow. There had bit more than a few wondering where Malfoy was all this time, since he wasn't in his seat.
"He asked me to work on diverting funds to places I didn't even know the Ministry had influence in, like several islands in places I've never heard of and businesses in countries I've never heard of. I did, of course, since it had been relayed to me that the lives and health of my da and other family was in my hands. Umbridge, the toady bitch, was all too happy to tell me all this before making me do disgusting things with Fudge to prove that they owned me."
There was a distinct sniffle and everyone could see the tears slowly trace down the face.
"I don't want to go into what he did to me. What she did was worse and I don't want to talk about that either. Learning that she could send a Dementor to my home at any time and that Fudge had released ten of the terrible things to her personal control was terrible. He was very explicit in telling me as he was… well, as he did what he did to me. It was his orders, passed to Umbridge, to go and attack the same kid's house that he had previously taken a different pair to… well, that was terrible. I was an accountant, not a fighter like some of the others in the Ostiary, but I wasn't given a choice. I thought I was going to die there in that house when that goblin backhanded me toward the Aurors and waking up in the holding cells was the sweetest thing I've ever experienced."
The deposition/interrogation continued after that to fill in some points about what was done and who made up the roster. Critchett decided that she wanted to get everything off her chest. It was obvious that she changed her mind and relayed everything Fudge, Umbridge, and Malfoy did to her to keep her compliant. She did make note that Malfoy's Dark Mark was distinct, although she didn't know why.
There were green faces in the courtroom after the memory faded. Madam Bones looked at the witness after a long moment.
"We've checked everything those three people told us and have confirmed it. Every… Single… Bit. We have the books, now magically untrapped and open, we have witnesses that corroborated everything she said and even added to it."
"You're acting like you've put me on trial!" Madam Umbridge sputtered.
"No, I'm revealing that I know what your role is for Cornelius Fudge. Whenever you go on trial, what we say here will be introduced. Now, as you've been labeled a hostile witness, you're compelled to answer the questions given to you."
The destruction of Dolores Umbridge was total and there was nothing that Trial Master Bateson could say to stop it as she dug herself and Fudge into a deeper and deeper hole. Madam Bones held out the shovel and let the ugly woman get on with it.
=-{}-=
A short recess was called after that for the people in the galleries to recover from the things they had heard. When they returned, there was no sight of Madam Umbridge anywhere and a general sigh of relief was heard even if most tried to muffle it. Quite a few exclamations of disbelief regarding her appearance, in many senses of the word, could be heard before the gavel quieted all discussion. The trial resumed.
=-{}-=
"Your next witness, Madam Bones?"
"I call Hermione Granger."
She appeared and was sworn in, with a moment to explain the precedent that allowed the hostile witness mode of the chair. She shrugged, not worried about it.
People noticed this and wondered what was going to happen.
Madam Bones started her questioning, by asking about the events the day the Dementors came with Fudge.
Her testimony confirmed everything her father had said with some things that he couldn't relate, as he was not as magical as she was and his perceptions weren't the same.
The question about the attack at her home yielded up stark testimony that had people gasping. The detailed memory of the same thing the young woman had provided made her words all the more stark. Madam Bones nodded to her opponent as the memory wound down.
"Your witness, Trial Master Bateson."
The man jumped up. He wasn't going to touch the attack but he did want to pick at something else.
"All I want to ask is how do you think you know about Dementors enough to even fight them, young lady?"
Everyone stared at him as the chair links glowed, but Hermione was unfazed. There was more than a bit of muttering that could be heard in the gallery and even Dumbledore turned to pierce Bateson with a disappointed look. Hermione turned to the Chief Warlock.
"May I have permission to cast a Patronus, sir?"
Lord Morley-Liddlecoat rubbed the side of his nose.
"Yes, Miss Granger."
"Thank you, sir."
Everyone noticed that he didn't tell her to get on with it.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Hermione's otter swam out of her wand and went over to Dan and Emma, nuzzling them before flowing to Bateson and slapping him with his little paws. The ethereal otter stared him in the eyes for a moment and blew him a raspberry before fading away.
Several snorts of amusement could be heard and a few looked up at Dumbledore. He still hadn't said anything, but his eyes twinkled with pride in his student.
"Well?" The irritation could be heard in the Chief Warlock's voice.
"Er… no further questions, My Lord."
There was a grumbling harrumph from the old man before he turned to Hermione.
"You may step down, Miss Granger."
The eye turned away from the others winked in approval of her actions, but he said nothing else to her. She could see that he was highly entertained and gave him a small smile as she left.
"Your next witness, Madam Bones."
"I call Harry Potter!"
=-{}-=
Harry was brought from the witness isolation room and it was obvious that he was not comfortable with being there. As most of the Wizengamot remembered his previous visit there some time ago and what had happened, they didn't blame him. More than a few thought it was silly for him to have been there in the first place, but the politics that spoke at the time had spoken for more than they'd liked.
He was sworn in as Hermione had been. Harry looked irritated at the mention of the chains and everyone saw that the chains flickered and went still. This was new and people wondered what that was all about.
It was clear from Harry's testimony that he was not a fan of Fudge, Umbridge, or a vast majority of the Ministry.
"Why did you think that Cornelius Fudge was there, Mister Potter?"
He looked at her and she nodded.
"Because my oath-sworn godfather was there, as well. He had brought Dementors to kill him, but he had no trial to be sentenced to death in the first place."
"Your 'oath-sworn' godfather, you say? Who is that, for the record?"
"Sirius Black."
It was a dubious testament to the depravities that had been uncovered during Madam Umbridge's testimony that practically everyone had forgotten about the presence of Sirius Black. It took several moments of gavel-smashing before order could be restored, and Harry remained silent throughout.
As order was restored, Madam Bones spoke.
"My Lord, I received anonymous documents that pointed my investigators toward verification – or the lack of verification in the case of a trial for Sirius Black. This has been noted in the exhibit that I am now submitting. I should also note for the record that Trial Master Bateson had declined to review it before trial, and called it 'made-up desperation.' I will leave the evaluation of that up to the Wizengamot with the comment that if such could happen to the Black family, it could happen to any other family in this body."
Spines stiffened in suddenly uncomfortable chairs around the capacious room as that shot went home. There was a lot of muttering as many wands replicated many copies of the exhibit for their later deliberations. Madam Bones turned back to Harry.
"Now, Mister Potter, how is it that Sirius Black became your godfather?"
"My parents asked hours after I was born and he himself told me that he insisted on the Godfather Ritual to make it 'more ironclad.' What he meant by that, I don't know."
"There is a verified true memory in that exhibit from Sirius Black that show both James and Lily Potter doing just that and his insistence on the Ritual. There is a later verified true memory of the Ritual taking place."
"I don't know about the Ritual being done, Madam Bones, just that he is my godfather. I can feel my magic responding to his. It's like trust and love."
No one could say anything to that, as those with godparents of their own remembered their own magic doing the same thing.
"What happened five days ago at the home of Lord Doctor Granger?"
A sigh.
"We were attacked by Ministry forces under the direct order of Madam Dolores Umbridge, at the direction of Minister Cornelius Fudge."
"Can you elaborate? Remember that you're under oath."
The following testimony had people clutching their robes and shaking. The recounting of the fighters attacking the house, finding ways in, Steelarse mowing through people with an Auror beside him throwing spellfire like a madman as the family was literally thrown into the safe room. Harry related the sounds of fighting and screaming that filtered through the walls since everyone had forgotten silencing runes while making sure the Granger library was proofed against fire, flooding, and breaching.
The description of blood everywhere, of different colors, made several people pass out.
A short recess was called after the prosecution turned over the witness.
Like with Hermione, Trial Master Bateson asked the question about Dementors after noting with a sneer that his grades weren't as good as hers. It was obvious that he was grasping at whatever he could at this point.
"Objection, My Lord! The client's grades have no bearing here! Also, we've seen his Patronus in the memory from Lord Doctor Granger!"
"Madam Bones, I'd be glad to cast my Patronus. I'm sure Hermione would have already done that."
She made a minute nod toward Lord Morley-Liddlecoat, and Harry's eyes went a bit wide. He turned to the old wizard.
"Sir, I think I would have to ask your permission first, though."
"Aye, lad."
"May I do so?"
"Aye, lad. Make it a good one and see if you can top Miss Granger."
A corner of his mind made him blush at the phrase and another part wondered what she and her Patronus had done, but he took out his wand and concentrated on his feelings for her.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Prongs burst out of the tip of his wand. His size prevented him from going to anyone in the galleries and everyone imagined that they could hear the sound of the hooves striking the floor. The Patronus looked at Harry.
"Prongs, Lord Morley-Liddlecoat says for you to make it a good one," Harry shrugged.
The stag snorted in reply and looked around to find Fudge at the table behind Bateson. Everyone watched as the Trial Master was rudely shouldered aside by the Patronus and ignored as Prongs stared down his target.
The snort was clearly heard in the stillness.
Prongs shook his head from side to side and the points of his antlers swung with all deliberate speed. Fudge didn't know which one to watch and gaped as Prongs finally turned his back on him.
The sight of a massive stag flipping his tail up at the man before farting at him and stalking away before disappearing made more chuckles happen. Someone could be clearly heard to say, "Honestly, Harry. Really?"
Trial Master Bateson merely sat down in his seat and didn't say anything else.
"Have you anything else for this witness, Trial Master Bateson?"
"No, My Lord."
The old wizard harrumped again and it sounded to most of those in the galleries that it was with clear satisfaction.
"You may step down, Mister Potter."
"Thank you, My Lord."
Harry didn't exactly scurry off to the side door but he didn't waste any time moving through it, either. He was soon seen moving to Hermione's side, who took his hand as he sat down.
"Your next witness, Madam Bones?"
"I call Senior Auror William Thompson!"
The Senior Auror marched in with his dress robes squared away and all his decorations bright. His boots shone and everyone could see the hash marks on his sleeve standing out against the scarlet of the robes. He was sworn in and the chair didn't respond at all.
The questions asked about his investigation into how Cornelius Fudge was answered and backed up with concise references to points revealed in his initial investigation and cross-referenced with the items revealed by Mary Critchett. The chain starting with the Chambers kid was expounded upon all the way up to Cornelius Fudge.
"My Lord, I have confessions from all involved in Senior Auror Thompson's investigation detailing everything that they did. Some have more bearing as they get closer to Cornelius Fudge's end of this chain. I submit that into evidence in this case and for later reference in their own cases."
"Accepted."
"I have no further questions."
Trial Master Bateson tried to get up any desire to question the Senior Auror, but he just couldn't do it. He knew that anything he asked would be torn to shreds.
"No questions, My Lord."
"Call your next witness, Madam Bones."
"No further witnesses, My Lord. The Prosecution rests."
"Very well. Trial Master Bateson, you make begin your defense."
"I request a short recess to confer with my client, My Lord."
"Very well. Fifteen minutes."
The gavel banged and everyone could see a privacy charm get thrown up between the two. There was a mild distortion layered within that threw off anyone who was adept at reading lips.
=-{}-=
"What are you going to do, Bateson? It's your turn!"
Trial Master Bateson sneered at his client.
"I told you to tell me everything and I'm finding out today that you didn't do that. There's only so much I can do now. Pack your bags, Fudge, you're off to Destination Fucked."
"Here, now! What are you saying?"
"I was going to call Umbridge, but that was ruined. I was going to call the accountant, but that was ruined by the revelation of the things you did. I was going to call the Aurors, but that last one and the knowledge of the loss of the others ruined that. I got nothing, thanks to you!"
"But…"
"But nothing. I can't hardly look at Madam Bones right now. She's got you cold to rights just on Sirius Black and your inaction. There's not going to be a plea deal of any kind when you add in the other stuff. My advice is to plead guilty and throw yourself on the mercy of the Wizengamot."
"But… no! No guilty plea! It was all Umbridge's fault for messing up everything! She was supposed to dispose of them quietly!"
Bateson sighed.
"Are you saying that you tried to have people murdered?"
"Yes! No! Just removed from the status quo!"
Bateson sighed again.
"I have no defense. None. Nothing at all."
"What?"
"I told you when I met you. Tell me everything! Now I have to…"
He was interrupted by the gavel. With a sigh, the charms came down.
"Are you ready, Trial Master?"
There was a sigh.
"Frankly, no, My Lord. The defense rests."
There was a burst of noise in the room, and the gavel pounded.
"Are you certain, Trial Master Bateson?" An eyebrow raised at the barrister's words. It was obvious to all that he hadn't expected to hear that.
"I am, My Lord. Every witness that I could call has been discredited by previous testimony – testimony containing content that I was not made aware of before trial by my client. For that matter, as in the case of the Ostiary, I was not made aware of secretive matters either. As such, I have no defense to present against the things that have been revealed. At this point, I have no way to withdraw as my clients representation, as the Prosecution has already rested its case and Magical law requires an appeal specifying that be in place first in the case of a guilty verdict before I can withdraw."
The Chief Warlock regarded the man, who looked like he had swallowed several lemons worth of sour juice.
"Have you a change of plea?"
"No, My Lord, against my advice. The Plea stands at Not Guilty."
"Very well. The Wizengamot will enter deliberations. The doors will remain sealed unless the deliberations extend past several hours. I order that comfort stations within this area will be enabled. Wizengamot house-elves will see to refreshment. So ordered."
The gavel pounded, and the whole of the Wizengamot was shrouded in hazy gray as they began deliberations. Some of those watching this listened hard, trying to hear what they might be saying – not realizing at first that there were also silencing charms that prevented that very thing. Those in the public galleries saw new doors appear in the walls leading to the 'comfort stations,' meaning restrooms, a lounge and a small canteen. Several people jumped up and zipped that direction, their need obvious.
=-{}-=
"Well, Pumpkin, what's next?" Dan Granger wanted to know.
"We wait, just like any court case."
"How long, do you think?"
"No telling," Harry answered. "They do have to go through the motions of looking at what Madam Bones entered into evidence, I'm sure. That'll take a while."
"Well, let's go see what's available in that canteen. I wouldn't mind a sandwich, since I'm a bit peckish."
=-{}-=
The subsequent deliberation took seven hours. Four of those was viewing of the evidence presented, half was a break for settling queasy stomachs, one and a half was arguing back and forth about what to do about it, and the last hour was catching up and bragging on children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Quite a few photos, stories, and jokes were exchanged in the process.
Another ten or fifteen minutes was spent getting their faces back into a solemn mien. The suggestion of imagining Dolores Umbridge in a bride's white dress approaching the mostly male members at an altar was horrifying enough to work quickly. The majority of the time was spent by the male members trying to keep their lunch down and the female members trying to keep the laughter at the male members down.
=-{}-=
The public, the prosecution, and the defense found themselves back in their seats as the obscuring charm dissipated and the Wizengamot could be seen again. Cornelius Fudge paled as the grim visages of those he knew and had worked with registered.
Dumbledore nodded to himself in apparent satisfaction. It seemed that he would be up into the night trying to neatly write into the tiny forms that the ICW used, but in this case he was willing to do that.
Harry Potter squinted at the Chief Warlock before gazing at several others, still not very trusting.
Dan wondered what was for dinner. That sandwich wasn't enough for a starving flea and cost far too much.
The gavel pounded and all eyes turned to Lord Morley-Liddlecoat. He was passed a piece of parchment, which he took his time to read carefully.
"I'm not going to waste any more time. Will the defendant rise?"
Cornelius Fudge stumbled as he rose shakily and his barrister stood up without problems.
"As for all counts, you're found guilty. Life in Azkaban for each count, consecutive on each count, no parole, maximum security. Got that?"
As Fudge seemed to be struck dumb, Bateson answered quickly.
"Yes, My Lord."
"Good. I'm done. The Wizengamot is adjourned."
Bang went the gavel, and Fudge fainted.
=-{}-=
"I'd say you've been told off again, Cornelius Fudge. You should have listened long ago."
It hadn't taken long to get him awakened and on his feet again. Madam Bones did the doubtful honors before taking that parting shot at him. She shook her head and walked away. Coins could be heard being passed among a couple of the gallery's viewers, but she ignored that.
The shuffling of the bound feet was clearly heard as he was led from the room to the holding cells to await his upcoming transport to his new home. The slam of the door cut off that sound with a finality that the others knew was about to come to the prisoner, and no one had anything else in mind to say about it.
Indeed, there was nothing else to say.
The End
Thank you to everyone who stuck around to see the words directly above, to every reviewer that sent me encouragements, reminders and a few 'love, love, love, love this' reviews on both FFN and AO3 – and a few critical reviews that I took onboard. This was a blot punny (heh) that had to be taken care of, and now it is. I'm off to resume the rest of Like Tenfold Shields!
… if something else doesn't pop up, that is.
And I haven't forgotten Potters Echoes to Time Unbending or Phantasms of Reality. Promise!
