A/N: Okay, this isn't quite where we were up to before, but it's a good holding point while I get the next bit ready. Hope that's okay and I hope you agree with me when I say this way is better.
-0-
After a whirlwind of toilets and phone boxes and paper aeroplane memos, Harry and Arthur were rushing down the corridors of the Ministry's lowest courtrooms. Before he knew it, he was being pushed through the doorway and into Courtroom 10 alone. As he looked around, he struggled to keep his breakfast down when he recognised the room he was in. He had seen the very same room in Albus' Pensieve the year before. This was the room where they had condemned Death Eaters to life in Azkaban. It was probably the room where Sirius had been sentenced. That thought nearly made him vomit, until he felt his máthair's love flow through him, shoring him up for what was to come.
"You're late!" Fudge spat, looking particularly overbearing up in the stands as Harry tentatively walked to the chair in the middle of the room.
"I -"
He didn't have the words to argue as Fudge glared at him. After he managed to fall into the chair in the middle of the room, he apologised, but he had no idea which words he actually used. They had barely started affirming his identity when the door to the courtroom burst open and welcomed in Albus Dumbledore. Harry was both buoyed and strangely disgusted as he strode forward at ease.
Even though he felt like growling, everything was going to be okay.
He tried to catch Albus' eye, but the man avoided him every time. He only had a moment to think about it, before Fudge was again throwing questions at him at a blinding pace.
He answered them all in as much truth as he could. Except it wasn't the perfect truth. He couldn't tell them he was staying at McGonagall Manor. He couldn't tell them that Minerva was his mother. He suddenly had a terrible thought that they might put him under Veritaserum. As he tried to answer the questions as best he could, he was yet again cut off by outlandish suggestions and overcomplicated questions. He was being railroaded and it quickly became apparent that Fudge was not interested in his answers. Apparently, the snide comments that Minerva had alluded to in the Daily Prophet were far-reaching.
Amelia Bones stood and Harry smiled at her, as she immediately put him at ease. She talked about how impressive it was to produce a corporeal Patronus, but Harry wasn't stupid. As Fudge started talking again, he saw that the man in the bowler hat had not been swayed by his impressive use of magic. He took the time as Fudge and Dumbledore were arguing to look around the room a little more. It shocked him that Percy was there. It shocked him more that he avoided Harry's eye contact. He never looked away from the parchment he was scribbling on.
Ron had mentioned in passing that there had been a falling out, but to Harry, it looked a damn sight more than just a falling out. Percy seemed to be agreeing to everything the Minister was saying and it put his teeth on edge. A Weasley that would believe Fudge over him told him more than anything Sirius could. He bit his lip to stop himself from calling out as he continued looking around the room. There was another woman that caught his eye, but not in a good way. He peered at her, keeping half an ear on Albus' arguments. He wondered absently why she kept to the shadows until she stood and the speaker called out her name.
"The floor recognises Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister."
If his heart wasn't in his throat at the two wizards fighting over his future, Harry would have recoiled. She was one of the ugliest women he'd ever seen. Her face was squashed, almost toad-like, and she was wearing a pink cardigan over her red robes, clashing violently with each other and giving her a pallor, not unlike that of a reptile. When she spoke, her voice was so high Harry winced. How that woman had risen to the position she had done was very clear; Fudge was deaf, and possibly blind too.
He sat quietly, allowing the argument to build and build, desperately wishing he could open his mouth to help, but he just couldn't form the words. It wasn't until Amelia Bones' clear voice broke out over the din that he realised that they'd finished arguing.
"All those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?"
More than half of the gathering raised their hands, including Ms Bones, making Harry's heart beat a little faster at the prospect of going back to Hogwarts free and clear.
"All those against?"
Only a few voted this time and Harry nearly whooped in delight.
"Excellent," Albus said over the silence. "Good day."
Harry turned to talk to him, but only caught the tail of his robes whipping around the corner of the door. The happy feeling that Harry had was gone. How could Albus run away like that after what had just happened? Harry had no idea what he'd done to make Albus so mad. Or what Harry had done to disappoint him.
He didn't stay to ponder it and escaped from the horrid courtroom as soon as he could and met up with Arthur in the corridor. The walk back to the Atrium gave Harry time to look around. The corridors were long and dark below ground and they all looked pretty similar. He had no idea how Arthur even knew the way back. He remarked quietly that Fudge's behaviour was odd, even for Fudge and when they caught a glimpse of the Minister talking quietly with Lucius Malfoy, his suspicions were practically confirmed.
"Dumbledore thought Fudge couldn't have been doing all this on his own," Arthur argued. "Now we know a little more, it's even clearer. Fudge has always been scared of Albus taking his job and now with," he looked around. "Well, with everything going on, I think it's just another way to discredit Albus. Make him look like a fool, as if anyone could."
Harry nodded but wasn't as sure. Albus had definitely been acting oddly. What if he really was losing it? What would they all do then?
-0-
The mood back at Grimmauld Place that evening was that of a party. Mrs Weasley had rejoiced loudly in Harry's ear when the verdict had been announced and declared that they would have an impromptu gathering that night to celebrate.
Harry hadn't been so keen, but he kept his mouth shut. He supposed the news was joyful - after all, he could go back to Hogwarts - but the interaction, or lack thereof, with Albus, was troubling. He hadn't realised how much he had dwelt on those thoughts until five o'clock rolled around and Minerva appeared on the front doorstep.
He was sitting quietly in the corner of the kitchen, trying to avoid everyone's conversations. And then, his chest prickled and he heard the door close.
"Máthair?" he whispered. He ran out of the room and into her arms.
"Ciamar a tha thu, mo mhac [How are you, my son]?" she asked, searching his face for an answer as she entered the hall.
"Better now," he whispered as he hugged her.
"Harry, darling, I haven't even taken my cloak off."
"Doesn't matter," he said, refusing to let go. "Thanks for this morning."
"You are my son," she said quietly. "You know that if I could have been there, I would have been."
"I know," he said, finally allowing her to take off her cloak. "Albus was there."
She nodded but didn't comment; apparently, his feelings had been enough to tell her as much.
"I know," she whispered, kissing him gently. "But enough of this mood," she said finally, smoothing her hair in the mirror. "Let's enjoy ourselves tonight mo ghradh [my love]. I must return to Hogwarts on the morrow and I will not be able to get away again before the start of term."
"Aw, Máthair -" he sighed, but caught himself at the last minute. Minerva was a busy woman and with all this Order business, he supposed he should be lucky to have had her for this long. "Sorry. I know you're busy."
"It is inevitable, my darling. We will deal with it as best we can."
Harry nodded and let her lead him into the kitchen. With Minerva by his side, the party was actually rather jolly. Those present mainly comprised of the Weasley family as well as Hermione, Sirius, Minerva and Harry. Remus dropped by late into the evening, but Harry particularly enjoyed his time with Minerva. He was laughing at something Fred had said when he felt Minerva's hand slip into his. He smiled at her and went back to listening, happy to have her attention after so long without it.
He fell asleep that night with a gentle smile on his face, one that broadened when he felt a kiss on his brow and long fingers carding through his hair.
"Sleep well mo leòmhann beag [my little lion]," she whispered, and he snuggled under his blankets and sighed.
Today hadn't been too bad after all.
