Author's Note: I didn't think it would happen so soon, but the muse returned to this story, finally delivering the big trial chapter. Also, a Petunia Point of view on Privet Drive scene that wraps up a bit. Only two more planned chapters left to write and this story is over.
I'd like to thank Eric Oppen, Matt Arnold, Brad Coleman, creasey, Stephen Spector, Jonn Wolfe, Nick R., jonas, Corin Wolfkin, drwho13, joey zoot, and Mark Schmidt for their feedback on this story during the betaing process.
Chapter Nineteen Upon the Traitor's Gate
"Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye, the Wizengamot will now come to order on this morning, the nineteenth day of its Summer Session on this the hundred seventy-fourth day of the forty-third year of the reign of her majesty, Queen Elizabeth, the second of that name to reign over the British Isles, Defender of Faith, Lord of all that is Magical. The Member from Surrey, Sir Harry, Chief Warlock Pro Tem, presiding on the orders of Her Majesty. God save the Queen."
As soon as the bang of the herald, still Prince William, hit the floor, Harry stood up behind the Chief Warlock's podium. "Earl, Baron, Lords of the Wizengamot," Harry said, after taking a deep breath, "The agenda for today, that of the ceremonial closing of the session, has been suspended. Her Majesty, the Queen, has informed us that we shall be sitting in judgement of our peers, those that took up insurrection of the lawful rule of her Majesty that once sat among us and the leaders of the insurrectionists who were captured with them. Therefore, I must ask that the floor of the chamber be cleared of anyone who is not a member of this body or filling the role of an officer of the chamber, before the doors are barred."
The chamber floor was quickly cleared of the many heirs who were there for the closing ceremonies that had been on the agenda. Harry didn't sit down though. He wasn't supposed to sit down until the members or former members were announced. "The Doors have been barred. Herald, please provide us with the names of those that we will sit in judgement, so those who believe that can not rightfully judge due to bounds of family and honor, may retire from judgement. Earl, Baron, and Lords of the Wizengamont, I ask that you do not take this action lightly, and that all the names be read before you make your position known. Be aware that among the charges we will be judging is treason, and the Crown has asked that the Death Penalty the sentence for anyone so judged of that charge. If you feel you cannot stand and sentence anyone to death, you may also move to the rear to indicate your position. None shall ask why you chose this action, and none shall take action against you for doing so. May the names be brought before us now."
The door to the Royal Antechamber opened, and out stepped the Prince of Wales, dressed a mantle of dark blue lined with white. A gold chain hung over his shoulders. There was a shield of Saint George encircled with the motto on a garter "Honi soit qui mal y pense," allowing Harry to realize the choice of the heir to the throne's outfit, which even included the traditional Tudor style under dress.
"Honorable Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, I bring before you, seven wizards, four of which were once seated in this body for you to judge as a jury of peers, all shall be standing before you as insurrectionists, and traitors to the crown," the Prince of Wales said.
"Name them, that we may be prepared to fairly judge, and assure ourselves that bias shall not enter our judgement," Harry replied, only once looking down at the cheat sheet that Hermione had prepared.
The Prince unrolled a parchment and read, "Pius Thicknesse of Staffordshire, charged with treason and insurrection against the crown, murder, terrorism, and use of unforgivable curses; Corbin Yaxley of Suffolk, charged with treason and insurrection against the crown, murder, terrorism, use of unforgivable curses, and perjury before this body; Thorfinn Rowle of Cheshire, charged with treason and insurrection against the crown, murder, terrorism, use of unforgivable curses, counterfeiting government documents, and perjury before this body; Owain Selwyn of Drefaidwyn, charged with treason and insurrection against the crown, terrorism, use of unforgivable curses, bribery, and destruction royal property;
"Alecto Carrow, charged with treason and insurrection against the crown, murder, use of unforgivable curses, and impersonation of Her Majesty the Queen under malicious purposes; Amycus Carrow, charged with charged with treason and insurrection against the crown, murder, use of unforgivable curses, and impersonation a member of the Royal Family and a government official. Merula Snyde, charged with treason and insurrection against the crown, use of unforgivable curses, negligent homicide, and driving without a licence; finally, Tom Marvolo Riddle, charged with treason and leading an insurrection against the crown, attempted regicide, murder, terrorism, use of unforgivable curses, destruction of royal property, and perjury in a court of Her Majesty's justice."
Harry waited a minute as required, before addressing the Wizengamot. "I ask that all who judge that they feel they can not apply the full extent of the law, as a matter of conscience, bias in their heart, or perception that there might be, move to the back benches now."
Three members moved to the back, Dirk Cresswel of Nottinghamshire, whose school age sweetheart was the daughter of the former member from Staffordshire; James O'Rorke of Cill Chainnigh who was a long time pacifist, and to Harry's surprise, Petros Parkinson of Cumberland.
"The Defendants, being tried in this body now constituted as the Full Court of the Wizengamot, are entitled under the Prisoner's Counsel Act of 1836 to be represented by counsel. Have the accused obtained, been offered, or refused counsel?"
"Your Honor," the Prince of Wales replied, "All seven have been offered counsel. Defendants Thicknesse, Yaxley, Selwyn, and Riddle have chosen to represent themselves. The Crown wishes to note that Thicknesse, Selwyn, and Yaxley are well versed in the law, we have no objection to their course. Defendant Rowle and Snyde have chosen to be represented by Defendent Thicknesse and Selwyn, respectively. Defendants Alecto and Amycus Carrow have obtained representation from Patience Davy nee Parkinson of the Dolenz, Tork, and Nesmith. We have no objections as to her qualifications."
Harry looked down at the briefing that Hermione had given him, and nodded. "Bring the accused before this body so we may judge their guilt or innocence."
Seven chairs with chains were placed in the well of the chamber, and then the defendants were led in. Harry carefully examined each one of them as they were led in. Pius Thicknesse was first, dressed like they all were in plain black robes, he had a goatee and long dark brown hair. There was a bruise on his left temple, the result of it hitting the steering wheel of a Jaguar. Corban Yaxley was next, with his white hair tied back in a braid that revealed that his hair had been blond at one time. He seemed to be missing three fingers on his right hand. Thorfinn Rowle was next with his buzz cut blond hair revealing a significant cut that had apparently been stitched up above his left ear. The last Wizengamot member, Owain Selwyn, looked nothing like the proper pureblood who had sat just to the right of the entry to the Wizengamot that Harry had used every day. Gone was the deep green robes with the embroidered red dragon and the elaborately braided hair. Now that hair was a mane of uncontrollable red fire, worse that Hermione's had ever been on a bad hair day, not that he'd ever make that comparison in her hearing, or even out loud.
The Carrow couple were next, and Harry had thought that Beatrix Lestrange had looked insane. She had nothing of Alecto Carrow, who had this wide eyes and crazy smile expression, along with her uncontrolled brownish red hair that was entangled with some sort of green slimy thread, that made Harry just a bit upset in his stomach. Her brother, who if rumors were to believed, was also her lover, seemed to be a bit more sane, but something about the wizard's turquoise eyes as they looked around the chamber led Harry to question his judgement of being more sane.
Merula Snyde was the youngest, with short dark brown hair with a lock of bright orange in he bangs. It seemed that she alone knew the trouble she was in, as she shrunk into the chair as she was locked to it.
Last was Tom Marvolo Riddle, in all his snake-like glory. The plain black robes were not much different than the cut he'd worn in the graveyard. Harry found it hard to believe it had been just a few months since then. Riddle's red eyes stared up at Harry, offering first a glare of defiance followed by surprise, as Harry figured he'd been recognized. Parseltongue curse words escaped the Dark Lord's mouth.
Harry rapped his gavel once. "The accused are reminded of proper decorum in this court. There should be no use of course language, and Defendant Riddle is particularly reminded that I take a dim view of anyone insulting the virtue and heroism of my parents.
"Defendant Tom Marvolo Riddle, you have chosen to represent yourself, but we have no record of any training in law that you may have received. Therefore I must ask in the hearing of this body, do you intend to represent yourself?"
"The Defendant will answer loudly and clearly, yes or no," Prince William said after a moment's silence.
"Yes," Riddle slurred, snakelike. "This body shall not condemn me, and all shall bow before my might, as Lord Voldemort!"
"The Crown objects to the Defendent Riddle referring to himself as a Lord," the Prince of Wales said. "He has not received from the Crown letters patent establishing him as a Lord in this realm, nor has he established such lordship in any recognized manner from abroad, and as such he is not recognized before any court or body in this realm as a lord."
"Objection sustained," Harry replied after a moment to allow Riddle to say something. Harry thought Riddle's expression was a bit in shock. "The defendant shall not be referred to as Lord Voldemort before this body, nor shall he be called a Lord, or Voldemort. Instead he shall be referred to by his birth name of Tom Marvolo Riddle or derivatives there of. The court is also reminded that expressions such as You-Know-Who are forbidden due to their imprecise nature, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as we know his name. This court shall use proper names wherever possible. This includes addressing the chair of this body.
"The Crown shall now present the case against the accused."
On Privet Drive it was a calm morning, but thunderstorms and high wind were predicted for late afternoon in Surrey. Harry's Aunt Petunia was sitting on a folding chair she'd placed on the sidewalk, looking at the fountain with the various angels. After looking to make sure no one was looking, she carefully got up and went to bend down next to the little angel with the red pigtails. "I'm sorry Lily," she whispered. It was a ritual she had begun once the water garden had been mostly completed.
Looking at the way the angels were arranged and thinking about her family was part of the penance that she'd made for herself. In her fifth month of pregnancy she'd grown even more reflective on how she'd lived. The last month with her nephew's increasing responsibilities and visitors had made her take an even deeper look at her life than Vernon's heart attack in February had done.
She'd become a caricature of a gossiping British housewife, not the life she wanted to be. Not that her dream job was something she had a shot at, not any more, and most certainly not with her third pregnancy being more than halfway through now. Petunia shook her head. That was the past. She was now an experienced mother now, and with her visits to the same psychologist that Vernon went to, much quieter than her husband had, she knew her mistakes now with both Dudley and Harry.
Petunia resolved to do better, not to spoil her daughter, though she was sure Vernon would. She didn't want to treat her daughter like she had Harry either. By all rights she knew she should have been brought up on charges for that, and didn't count herself clear of it yet. That realization had been quite sobering.
This summer, she was pretty sure she'd done a lot better. It helped that Harry had spent a lot of time at the Wizengamot, but that didn't detract from the fact that she hadn't yelled at her nephew once, made sure he was well fed, and even had worked to make sure her nephew's room was comfortable and well fit out as any in the house.
For years the room had been known as Dudley's Second Bedroom, the room where everything that Dudley had broken went to. It had once been known as Dahlia's room. It was the room that Petunia had avoided looking in for ages. When her daughter had been killed, in her grief she'd ripped out everything that had reminded her of Dahlia. Then, one day after she'd removed the crib, Dudley had blocked her from going in and removing the oval rug.
She was fairly certain that Dudley didn't remember today the real significance of the rug. In some of the pictures that Vernon had saved from her rage, there were a lot with Dudley cuddling with his baby sister on that rug. It had been their rug. She'd put Dahlia down on that rug, with a pillow, and Dudley would toddle on over to sit by his sister. Dahlia had only reached thirty-three days old, which made ever memory of her precious.
When Harry had cleaned out Dudley's Second Bedroom, he hadn't been allowed to make it his own, not until the last time he'd come home from Hogwarts. He had found the rug rolled up under the bed though, and placed it back on the floor. She'd heard Dudley warn Harry not to mess up the rug. Now that rug was in what had been the guest room and soon would be her new baby daughter's room. Never more would there be a guest room at Number Four for Vernon's sister. She secretly agreed with Harry that this was a very good thing.
Petunia smiled as she realized that Dudley had once again shifted the positions of the angels that represented James and Harry. James was just a bit closer to Lily, reaching out to pull those pigtails that Lily had been so protective of when she was in primary. Harry was once again located in a meaningful location on the edge of the pond, looking across the waters at his parents. She was pretty sure that as soon as Harry got home, the angel would once again be moved to a spot behind the waterfall. The panting pudgy angel that had been designated as Dudley had been moved to stand by the door, on the edge of garden. She knew that come tomorrow morning when Dudley went out for his run the angel would be halfway down the sidewalk, looking like it was about to run, with a hand print of red chalk on it's behind again.
She was really glad to see that Harry and Dudley were getting along. That had been one of her first worries when Harry had arrived, if you excluded the magic issue. She wondered if her new baby might end up magical. Lily had warned her that it was possible, but Vernon didn't seem the type that might have some magic in his background. Petunia had a complicated relationship with magic.
Magic had scared her at times, but it had also been a source of envy, and at times, joy. She'd wanted to go to Hogwarts, once upon a time, and had to admit that when Harry got his letter, for the briefest of moments, she'd allowed herself to drop back into that memory, that first Christmas, when she and Lily had curled up before the fire, trying to catch Father Christmas. She'd wondered what Hogwarts was like, and Lily had described her first impressions of the castle.
There was still – hidden under years of resentment, fear, and the realities of being an ordinary housewife – that little girl who had listened with complete attention to her sister telling of seeing the castle from boats on the lake. The sense of wonder that her sister conveyed in her description of the Great Hall with its floating candles, and the halls filled with moving, talking paintings, still existed, long suppressed.
That suppression had been driven by loss. Loss to Hogwarts, the closeness of a sister. Lost to the Rich man James, a sister hidden in a world she could not see. Lost to death, the very possibility of a sister returned. But that loss was dulled by time, and now the sadness was no longer so tinged with that loss, but with regret. Regret that with those angels in her garden she could no longer deny, no longer suppress those memories.
Today, as she watched a blue tit land on one of the flat stones that surrounded the pond, she let that sense of wonder out. There was just something about the early morning dew on the foliage, and the song of the birds that drew her back to that day as a petal drifted down to the water, drifting away from the softly tickling water feature. Petunia was almost afraid to breathe, as if the slightest movement or sound from her might break the spell over the front garden. Petunia didn't want to break the spell.
Petunia didn't know how long she sat there, watching the birds, sparrows, tits, and robins find her garden with its newly installed bird feeder. Watching the birds with her hand on her swollen belly was an acceptable pastime, one she'd wished she had done more of. She could let her mind go onto other things, letting the singing of the birds serve as a sound track to her memories of better times, when magic had seemed to be just around every corner, before life had taken it away.
She hoped that it wasn't too late. She hoped that her turnaround had been enough that Harry and his magic would still be in her life. She hoped that the baby moving in her womb would be as magical as Lily and Harry. She hoped that her poor soul still deserved a little magic in her life. Maybe all the changes that had started when Vernon had his heart attack and led to this baby would for once take the richness of magic that had been denied her poor soul and deliver it back.
As she sat in her garden, her bare feet under her, a single robin dared to land on her hand, resting over the movement of her baby. She felt the baby move stronger than before, but the robin stayed there, waiting just a moment before hopping to her right shoulder. It pecked at her earring before flying off. It was in that moment that Petunia decided to break the trend of girls with flower names in her family. It was time to steal back the richness of the magical world, and the wonder in her life. This baby would be Robin.
It was clear to Draco Amesbury that Tom Marvolo Riddle had no idea that he could loose. He'd just heard the self proclaimed Dark Lord's closing statement. It had not been wise for him to represent himself. Draco was fairly sure that Merula Snyde was going to get off of most of her charges, based on the testimony of Riddle in the matter, he would be voting not guilty and felt great sympathy for the girl. Riddle, on the other hand had pretty much made the crown's case in his defense alone.
"Does the Crown wish to rebut the closing statements of the accused?" Potter asked. Draco was quite surprised that the Gryffindor had managed to stay stoically presiding over the case, occasionally frowning, and once having had to pause before completing a ruling on an objection from Thicknesse. Draco was sure he couldn't have done it, not even with the support and briefing from Granger. At the very least he would have required calling for a personal recess several times after testimony of torture and murder. As it was he'd used a conjured bucket that Longbottom's grandmother had thoughtfully provided three times.
"The Crown rests," the Prince of Wales stated.
"Then accused shall be taken to the antechamber, and the veil lowered, while we debate and vote on the charges," Potter said. It took several minutes for the accused to be removed from the well of the chamber, and the veil to descend, preventing those in the gallery from hearing or seeing the deliberations.
Draco, the Baron Amesbury, watched as Harry Potter signed the verdicts before he called the accused back into the room. He could see the seriousness in his year-mate's expression. Yet, the moment the quill lifted from the parchment, his posture changed, as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The Chief Warlock Pro Tem stood up behind the presider's podium and said, "Guards, bring back in the accused so they may hear the results of our deliberations on their fates."
There was a great difference in the accuseds as they were brought back into the well of the chamber. Draco wondered if any of them knew the rules that had determined their order. Well, they'd soon realize it, he judged.
Merula Snyde was the first one in line, and thus was placed in the center to await judgement first. Draco couldn't help to feel a bit of sympathy for the girl. He knew that he could have very well ended up in her place, if he hadn't made the decision to turn in his father. She looked like she'd given up on life, and was just waiting for the hangman's noose to slide around her neck.
A single strike of the gavel, and then Harry began to speak. "Hear now all gathered within, members, witnesses, audience, and most importantly, those who stand charged before us. The Wizengamot has deliberated on these charges and come to decisions on them.
"Merule Snyde, on the charge of Treason and Insurrection against the Crown, this body finds you not guilty. On the charge of use of unforgivable curses, not guilty. On the charge of Negligent Homicide, not guilty by reason of curse. On the charge of driving without a license, guilty. As the latter charge comes from the muggle world, your sentence comes from the nearest equivalent crime, apparition with out a license, twenty gallons and time served."
Draco watched as Miss Snyde collapsed, as if her strings had been cut. She was swiftly taken to the side, where a mediwizard made sure she was okay. Draco's gaze shifted to the next accused, as Owain Selwyn was moved to the center of the well from his position just left of center, and the left side moved inward. Owain was standing there dignified, apparently willing to accept his fate. Draco knew from his defense of himself and Snyde that the man was genuinely remoseful, and he'd seen a brief smile on the former Wizengamot member when Snyde's verdict and sentence was read.
"Owain Selwyn of Drefaidway, on the charge of Treason and Insurrection against the Crown, this body finds you guilty. On the charge of Terrorism, we find you not guilty. On the use of unforgivable curses, this body could not reach a verdict. On the charge of bribery, this body could not reach a verdict. On this two charges, the crown has indicated that they will not attempt a further trial. On the charge of Destruction of Royal Property, we find you guilty. For the charge of Treason and Insurrection against the crown, we sentence you to death by hanging, followed by beheading and quartering of the body. However, we shall not require that you be buried in the four corners of the kingdom, and your body shall be returned to your kin for burial. On the charge of destruction of Royal Property, you are fined a thousand galleons. You shall be allowed three days contact with your kin to settle your affairs before the sentence is carried out."
Owain nodded before being escorted from the center of the well of the Wizengamot. The next to move from his spot to the right of center was Pius Thicknesse of Staffordshire. The man stood stoically at the center, immaculately dressed in gray pinstriped robes with a rather unexpected bright orange Chudley Cannons tie.
"Pius Thicknesse of Staffordshire, on the charge of Treason and Insurrection against the Crown, this body finds you guilty. On the charges of Murder, as enumerated in the charging document, we find you guilty in all but the sixth charge which we find you not guilty, and the seventh charge which we are unable to reach a verdict. On the charge of Terrorism, we are likewise unable to reach a verdict. On the charge of the use of Unforgivable Curses, we find you guilty. On the charge of perjury before this body, we find you not guilty. As a sentence for all the crimes which you have been found guilty, we sentence you to death by hanging, followed by beheading and quartering of your body. Your body shall be buried in the four corners of the kingdom, and your head shall be placed on display for a week on the Traitor's Gate of the Tower. You shall be allowed three days contact with your kin to settle your affairs before the sentence is carried out."
Pius Thicknesse was led out, still stoic. Corban Yaxley moved in next from the left. He was an old man, whose wrinkles and age had seemed to increase as the trial had progressed. He no longer stood upright, but hunched, and Draco had the feeling that even if he had gotten off, Yaxley would not be long for the world.
"Corban Yaxley of Suffolk, on the charge of Treason and Insurrection against the Crown, this body finds you guilty. On the charges of Murder, as enumerated in the charging document, we find you guilty on all ten charges. On the charge of Terrorism, we are unable to reach a verdict. On the charge of use of unforgivable curses, we find you guilty. On the charge of perjury before this body, we find you guilty. As a sentence for all the crimes which you have been found guilty, you shall be hung until death, followed by beheading and quartering of your body. Your body shall be buried in the four corners of the kingdom, and your head shall be placed on display for a week on the Traitor's Gate of the Tower. Your estate shall be fined ten thousand galleons. You shall be allowed three days contact with your kin to settle your affairs before the sentence is carried out."
Corban Yaxley was led from the center of the well of the Wizengamont. Draco did not think the man would last the three days. Thorfinn Rowle moved from the right, net. Rowle had left Hogwarts just before Draco had arrived, and he'd heard tales about the Death Eater's malicious nature. Draco was sure that even if Riddle had not come back, he'd still have ended up being judged by a jury of his peers, at least on the charge of murder, some day. If no one else but for the death of his own father, the first of the murder charges, and how Rowle had ended up on the Wizengamot.
"Thorfinn Rowle of Cheshire, this body finds you guilty of the charge of Treason and Insurrection against the Crown. We find you guilty of twenty enumerated charges of murder as in the charging document, more so not enumerated. On the charge of Terrorism, we are unable to reach a verdict. On the charge of use of Unforgivable Curses, we find you guilty. On the charge of Counterfeiting Government Documents, we find you guilty. On the charge of perjury before this body, augmented by circumstance of joining, we find you guilty. As a sentence for all these crimes which you have been found guilty you shall be hung until death, followed by beading and quartering of your body. Your body shall be buried in the four corners of the kingdom, and your head shall be placed on display for a week on the Traitor's Gate of the Tower. Your estate shall be fined a hundred thousand galleons. This sentence shall be carried out before sundown tomorrow."
It said quite a bit that Rowle just sneered as he was lead away and was replaced by Alecto Carrow. Draco had been impressed by the defense provided by his wife's half aunt, but there was little that could have prevented guilty verdicts for the insane woman. She made his Aunt Bellatrix look sane by the time the Crown had rested.
"Alecto Carrow, this body finds you guilty of the charge of Treason and Insurrection against the Crown. We find you guilty of twenty-four of the twenty-five charges of murder enumerated in the charging document, save only the thirteenth charge which we have reduced to attempted murder. We also find you guilty of Terrorism, and the use of Unforgivable Curses. On the charge of impersonation of Her Majesty the Queen under Malicious Purposes, we find you guilty. As this is the first time the Wizengamot has found anyone guilty of the charge of Terrorism, it is important that we establish the particular sentence for this crime, relative to such charges in the muggle world. On this charge you are sentenced to a Dementor's Kiss. This shall be carried out before sundown today. For your other charges, you shall be hung until dead, beheaded, your body quartered and buried in the four corners of the kingdom. Your head shall be placed on display for a week on the Traitor's Gate of the Tower. Your entire estate shall become the property of the Crown. This sentence is to be carried out before sundown tomorrow."
Draco found the laugh of Alecto Carrow to be quite disturbing. The replacement of her with her brother in the center of the well of the Wizengamot could only be an improvement, though a temporary one, given the next accused after him. That being said, the manic expression on the Death Eater's face before he'd been turned to face Potter would have been worrisome if Draco hadn't already known the sentence.
"Amycus Carrow, this body finds you guilty of the charge of Treason and Insurrection against the Crown. We find you guilty of all thirty charges of murder enumerated in the charging document. On the charge of Terrorism, we find you guilty. On the charge of use of Unforgivable Curses, we find you guilty. On the charge of Impersonation of a member of the Royal Family, we find you guilty. On the charge of impersonation of a government official, we find you guilty. For these crimes we sentence you to a Dementor's Kiss, followed by hanging until you are dead. You shall then been beheaded and your body quartered to be buried in the four couners of the kingdom. Your head shall be placed on display for a week on the Traitor's Gate of the Tower. Your entire estate shall become property of the Crown. This sentence is to be carried out before sundown tomorrow."
With Amycus Carrow now being escorted from the well of the Wizengamot, there was only one accused standing in the well, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Draco found his pale skin, and missing nose to be nightmare forming. It didn't help that Riddle had been defiant throughout the whole trial, constantly denying that he was subject to the laws. If you believed him, he was a god, ruler of all magic. He didn't even think he could be killed.
"Tom Marvolo Riddle, this body finds you guilty of the charge of Treason and Insurrection against the crown. We find you guilty of attempted regicide. We find you guilty of murder in so many counts that they could not all be enumerated. We find you guilty of terrorism. We find you guilty of the use of Unforgivable Curses. We find you guilty of destruction of Royal Property. We find you guilty of perjury in a court of Her Majesty's Justice. You are hereby sentenced to death by hanging. Upon your death you will be beheaded, and your body quartered. Your body shall be buried in the four corners of the British Empire, and your head shall be placed on the Traitors Gate were the ravens shall be allowed to feast on it until no flesh remains. Lest you think that your soul anchors shall allow your return, your soul shall be cast into the Tower Deep where it shall suffer torment until the stars no longer shine, and the earth has turned to dust.
"So this body has judged, and so it shall be done unto you before the sun sets upon this day. Escort the prisoners to their fates, Herald."
A firm stamp was pressed into the parchment, and Draco watched as Harry signed the judgement one last time. As he did so, there was a sudden black tendril of smoke that emerged from his scar. Within moments it was gone, though, to the point that Draco wasn't sure what had happened. He only knew that Potter's scar was suddenly much redder and inflamed.
"This special session is now stands adjured. God save the Queen!"
"God save the Queen!" Draco and most of the rest of the members of the Wizengamot echoed.
As the gavel came down one last time, it was as a great sigh of relief went through the whole chamber. The end of Tom Marvolo Riddle, self proclaimed Dark Lord Voldemort was in sight, and he would trouble the subjects of the United Kingdom, magical and muggle, no more.