Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, Labyrinth, or anything else you recognise.
A/N: Apologies for the long absence. My health has been up and down, and it's been difficult to knuckle down and write. This is nearly finished now, and I am fully committed to finishing this story ahead of any other projects. I've just got a new laptop though, so can now write when I'm laid up in bed, which is where I am at the moment. Thanks for all the reviews and support; I appreciate every single one of them.
Chapter Fifteen
"It's against the rules to throw other people's heads."
30th June, 2005 – The Atrium, The Ministry of Magic
"I assure you, ladies and gentlemen, the Ministry of Magic is not resting idly on its laurels. We are doing everything possible to locate Harry Potter and to neutralise the threat he poses to our society."
Cameras clicked and flashed while the Minister spoke, and the quills of the journalists gathered there were scribbling away like crazy. Even now, after everything that had happened, news of Harry Potter could still sell out newspapers and various other publications.
The Minister finished his speech, mainly repeating what had already said, albeit in different words, and then advised them that he would be taking questions from the floor.
Predictably, Rita Skeeter was the first one with her hand in the air. "Yes, Minister Fudge, why have you not located Dr Potter before now? In fact, how was he able to disappear in the first place? Reports have it that the DMLE was keeping tabs on him?" Thankfully, she stopped her barrage of questions at that point.
"Dr Potter is a notorious criminal, Rita, as you well know. He was also connected to the mind of You-Know-Who while he was still alive. He must have learned some dark method of concealing himself and is using that to thwart our efforts to find him. As for your other questions, we have been keeping track of him; however, it appears the Aurors assigned to this task have not been as vigilant as they should be. Rest assured, they will be disciplined appropriately."
Either the Minister did not notice the glares sent his way by every member of the DMLE, or he didn't care. He was in his element here; the crowd was hanging off his every word.
He enjoyed his position of power, and after the Potter boy had defeated the Dark Lord, he had begun to have serious worries that his days in office we numbered. Happily, he'd found that he had been worrying needlessly, as once he'd exposed the little upstart for the pretender he was, he had won the following election with a landslide.
"Next question." Fudge declared to the room.
"Yes, Minister Fudge. We at the Quibbler would like to know what you intend to do with Dr Potter when you find him." Stated Luna's father from far back in the crowd.
"Ah, a good question. Since he has violated the rules of his sentence, he will likely be taken to Azkaban. This will depend on the level of threat we find him to pose to our society. This government does not intend to let someone capable of harming our world go free. If we find him to be too severe a danger, it is possible he would be sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss. This is all hypothetical at this time of course, but I feel it is necessary for the public to know how far we will go to ensure their safety." Fudge declared, just about managing to keep a smug smile from his face. It wouldn't do to be too self satisfied with himself, after all, would it? At least, not in public.
"Yes, how far would you go? Have far have you gone? And where will your journey take you, mortal?
It was the body of a child, and the voice of the child, but every person in the room felt the sheer force of the presence of this so-called child.
"If you were to face Judgement now, how would you fare? How clean is your soul? Can you stand by your decisions, live with the weight of them? Are you truly deserving of the power we have gifted you?"
There was silence for a moment as every eye in the room focused on the little girl who had appeared out of thin air on the dais, just to the left of the Minister. Even those who wished to look away could not. She stared back at each and every one of them, and then just as they thought she would speak again, she disappeared.
Cornelius Fudge, who had started to feel real panic rise in his breast, breathed a sigh of relief when the… person, or whatever it was vanished.
"Well, ah, ladies and gentlemen, my fellow wizards and witches, I am not sure what…"
His words were cut off when a great flash of light and a strong wind swept through the room. Then it was dark. Even though it was coming up to midday, and there were great, big windows on the side of the building to let in the sunlight, the whole room was pitch black.
When the lights went up again, the dais had been replaced by a large, stone edifice, shaped in a semicircle. It looked something like the benches which judges sat on in muggle courts, except this was much more vast and imposing.
Seated in the centre was the little girl they had seen earlier, and, on either side of her, were a strange assortment of people. They seemed to be humanoid in appearance, though their faces were more angular, and refined than the average human's. There were two women, and several men, and nearly all of them were glaring down at the magical folk collected in front of them.
The chairs which the people assembled for the press conference had been sitting in only moments before, had been removed, and in their place were rows upon rows of uncomfortable, wooden pews. The crowd was forced to sit in them, whether they liked it or not.
"You may wonder why you are here. You may wonder who we are. You may also receive answers to these questions." She paused. "Then again, you may not."
She looked around the room, at the faces of the people gathered, looked into their hearts and minds, and did not like what she saw.
"Wizards and witches of Great Britain, you are assembled here to be tried for your crimes. You may not protest and you may not leave until these proceedings are complete. You must nominate one of your kind to speak for you. You have five minutes to comply or Judgement will be made without your input."
A dull roar of noise begun almost immediately as people turned in their seats to discuss this with the people surrounding them. From his place on the judging panel, Elessar could see that the entire population of wizarding Britain was present, even the children.
Witches and wizards were looking to their neighbours in confusion, clearly some of them had been whipped away from their homes, evidenced by a plump woman off to one side wearing an apron which was covered with flour. She even held a spatula in her left hand.
Possibly, the only ones who were not in the pews below, were Bill, Draco, Remus, Sirius, Lucius and Severus. They were concealed behind Elessar and his family. For what purpose, he wasn't quite sure.
In fact, it had been rather a surprise to be whisked away from the Underground and end up here, in the Ministry's atrium. He had known that something would happen, he just hadn't expected something quite like this.
Though, considering it carefully, he could perhaps see why this had been presented as a trial. It was a format most people would be able to understand, and it would ensure they knew exactly why whatever was going to happen, would happen. He didn't think that any defence in the world would be able to get them out of being punished, but maybe, for those who truly were innocent, clemency could be granted. Perhaps.
Near the front, he spotted some of his worst tormentors – Dumbledore, Fudge, the Weasleys and Hermione. Though, thinking about it, he imagined she was probably a Weasley by now. He guessed that those assembled would pick Dumbledore, given the all-wise persona he had gone to great trouble to create and foster.
He did not know of the tongue lashings the old man had been subjected to over the last few weeks, nor did he know that his status as a non-human had been revealed to a select few. As such, he did not think it odd when his prediction came true and Albus Dumbledore was indeed chosen as the one to speak on behalf of British wizard kind.
"I will speak for this congregation." He stated, and while there were a few mutters in the crowd, no one disagreed out loud.
"So be it. Let the trial commence."
"Perhaps we might know what it is we are on trial for, first? And perhaps, also, who you are to be bringing us to trial?" The old goat bleated, and Elessar scoffed at him quietly.
No one but Jareth seemed to hear him, and he gratefully accepted the silent support his mate was offering when he held his hand.
"The first is a valid question, the second is an insolent one. You do not fool me, Wizard Dumbledore. You know who I am, and who I represent. But for the ignorance of those you represent I shall tell you.
When she spoke again, her voice resonated with the voices of thousands.
"We are The Fates. Some call us Gods. Some call us The Powers That Be. You live by our grace and your magic is our gift. You are our children and your lives belong to us."
The girl closed her eyes for a moment, and almost seemed to relish in the gasps of shock and the palatable fear which rose in the people present.
"Wha – What has occurred to bring the attention of The Fates?" Dumbledore asked, and it was obvious that even he was afraid.
"You are on trial for abusing the gifts we have bestowed on you. Your society is fundamentally flawed. You view your magic as a right, not a privilege. You use it for your own personal gain and do not think of the consequences of your actions which are suffered by others. You look down on other magical beings, believing that they are less than you are, because they are not human. In short, you disgust us."
Jareth could not tell from his position if the crowd of mortals below was more shocked or outraged by this declaration. In fact, it was possible that only a few of them were even thinking clearly enough to understand what was happening to them. He could not find it in his heart to feel sorry for them however, and wasn't really sure what that made him.
Perhaps it was simply that Elessar's arrival in his life had not changed him as much as he had thought. The cruel side of him was still there, it just didn't emerge very often anymore. Truthfully though, when his eyes caught those of a little boy on the front row, he did soften against his will. The child looked lost and confused, and tugging on his mother's arm didn't seem to be getting her attention.
"I do not wish to tarry here all day, not that it would matter much if I did, but Time has his own things to be getting on with. The charges against your kind are too numerous to list. So we shall deal with the matter which recently brought you to our attention. The matter of Tom Riddle and Harry Potter." The Fate looked down at Dumbledore and indicated for him to speak.
"I – What is it you wish to discuss about that particular matter? It is a painful subject for many here, as you must know. I do not think it wise to –"
"Do not think to offer your pitiful counsel to me, old man. Do not think you are now, or will ever be in a position to question us or our orders. The facts are simple. Wizard kind has ignored its children, and instead of treating them with the love and devotion they deserve, you leave them to rot in orphanages and abusive homes. What say you to this?"
"That is not fair example. With Grindlewald active during those times, it was not possible for every single person to be accounted for. Yes, it is regrettable that Mr Riddle was raised in such a manner, however –"
Dumbledore was cut off again. It seemed patience was not this particular avatar's strong suit.
"Excuses. Why was nothing done when he appealed for better housing? Why was he not aware of whom he could turn to, outside of school for help? Why was his housing not assessed to ensure it was suitable? Why was no effort made to find him an adoptive family? It seems as though your society has not progressed since the Dark Ages. It is not enough for you to cower in fear, hiding from those without magic. People in isolation stagnate.
The world outside of magic has not. It has moved on, it has developed, it has strived every day to improve and innovate. And it has grown. There are currently somewhere in the region of six billion people without magic in the world. You are severely outnumbered, yet you seem unwilling to change or progress, nor to take the measures needed to ensure the survival of your own kind.
Anyone you perceive as different is to be shunned, persecuted and even killed. And that leads us on to one of your biggest mistakes. Our precious child, the one you called 'Harry Potter'".
"Too right he's a bloody big mistake!"
"Yeah, good riddance to bad rubbish!"
"What does the kid mean – precious child!?"
"What crap!"
Other such shouting continued, until every being in the room felt the temperature drop abruptly, and they shivered from the cold, both around them and coming from the deathly stare of the avatar before them.
"BE SILENT PITIFUL HUMANS!"
From his vantage point, Jareth was not sure if the wizards and witches gathered there stopped talking due to fear, or some kind of magical compulsion. Of course, it was possible it was a mixture of both, the girl had a very loud scream.
He had not failed to notice, however, that Elessar had tensed when his former name was mentioned, and was still radiating distress from his position next to him.
Knowing it was bad for both him and the baby, he did what he could to soothe him. He shuffled slightly closer to the other man, manoeuvring him gently until Elessar's left hand side was resting back against his chest. This made his mate glance up at him with a tremulous smile, and Jareth could help but notice that the erstwhile wizard was wringing his hands in his lap. Realising that this would not do at all, he took hold of both of the smaller, yet elegant hands and held them in one of his own. The other, he used to rub soothing motions on Elessar's still taught belly.
Jareth would later theorise that it was the reminder of the shining future they had lying ahead of them that helped it mate regain his centre so quickly. That, and that the avatar had really started laying into his former friends and associates, and who would want to miss that?
"You stole our precious child from its family. You imprisoned him and used him to fuel your own selfish greed. You set him up to save a nation which frankly would have been better off destroyed."
The little girl was really gaining momentum now, and no one could take their eyes off her.
"You gave him to despicable people who abused him, starved him and belittled him. You left his real family to suffer and grieve for the child they lost. When he had saved your kind and merely wanted to live his life in peace, you turned on him, like the fickle, cowardly backstabbers you are. You turned him out of your world, and dared to steal his magic from him."
"Magic which was never yours to give or take in the first place!"
The multitude of voices which had identified themselves as The Fates practically roared out this last sentence. Nobody present was under any illusion that they were seriously angered, furious even. More than one person had wondered however, why they were this annoyed on the behalf of one orphan boy.
"Perhaps if this were your only offence, we would simply punish those directly involved. Or maybe we would have allowed the aggrieved parties to take their revenge and not involve ourselves at all. However, this is not the case.
Your society has become a blistering sore on the face of magic, and it needs to be lanced. For too long, you have shunned and persecuted those who you perceive as different or unworthy. Vampires, werewolves, and banshees... the list goes on. Including even those you label as 'Dark' wizards. All these are our children and all were created for a purpose.
You fear these beings because they are more powerful than you, and unfamiliar to you. Instead of trying to learn more about them, to work with them to find peaceful ways to coexist, you hunt and destroy them. Why?"
She looked out over the crowd and practically dared someone, anyone to speak and challenge her. She was not disappointed.
"Because they are dangerous. They threaten our way of life, our families. This threat needs to be contained or eradicated. Just like the Potter child."
Cornelius Fudge was ever a rash and abrasive fool.
"Just like the Potter child, you say? The Potter child, as you call him, never truly existed. Lily Potter, our daughter, was barren. It was not her fate to bear young. Yet one of you wizards decided to interfere. To steal an elf baby and disguise him as Harry Potter."
Gasps of shock reverberated round the room and the people present exclaimed over this new information.
"I see that this is not getting us anywhere. You are too stuck in your ways to change now. Even were we to give you a chance, you would promise to our faces to mend your ways, and then plan, futilely, to deceive us behind our backs."
The girl sitting in judgement over the wizards and witches of Great Britain grew pensive, and her eyes distant.
"What –" Albus Dumbledore gulped, trying to bring forth the courage he felt he needed to ask his next question. "What is it that you are saying, ah, Madam?" Clearly he had no idea how to address the avatar.
"We have decided our verdict."
Elessar looked over the people collected in the pseudo courtroom, and was struck immediately by the number of people actually gathered there. Clearly, there were a lot less wizards and witches in Britain than he had originally thought.
Another thing he was struck by, was that could not deny the fear he could see in their eyes. They were truly worried about the verdict The Fates had decided for them. He wondered if they really understood the reason why they had been brought there. Could it be that their fear was clouding their minds, and their shock was rendering them incapable of taking in what was happening?
Sure, she had told them in no uncertain terms, but had they really listened? Obviously, The Fates thought not. And he reminded himself not to be so big headed to believe this was solely about him. According to Jareth and the goblins, direct action of this kind had been brewing for some time.
His treatment by the wizards was apparently the last straw.
Elessar tore his gaze away from the frightened people below and looked at his family. His father's, mother's and even his sister's faces were full of grim satisfaction. Though it made him uncomfortable, he could not deny them said satisfaction. They had grieved for him for nigh on two hundred years, that was something he really could never fully understand, unless he had lived through it himself.
Jareth, however, even though he had also grieved for the loss of his mate, currently only had eyes for him and their baby. The baby was really only a speck at the moment, but the Goblin King fussed over him endlessly. He found it both comforting and exasperating, but wouldn't trade his new situation for the world.
When he had first arrived in the Underground, he was swept up into a whirlwind of events, and for a while there, it was easier just to go with the flow, rather than question things. He had been so happy to have his magic back, and to feel alive for the first time in years, that he hadn't wanted to risk rocking the boat.
Now though, the castle and the Labyrinth, all of it felt like home. Where he really found solace, however, was in the arms of his mate. He had never felt so connected to anyone before, so wonderfully in tune. They just... fitted together. His magic sang every time Jareth touched him just so...
A gentle nudge brought him back to the present, and by the glint in Jareth's eyes, he could tell his mate had some idea what he had been thinking about. He knew for sure, when his King mouthed silently to him, "Later."
"Please tell us your verdict." Dumbledore requested in a subdued voice.
Here was a foe he could not best, and adversary he would never be able to conquer. His soul practically forbade even contemplating resistance. After all, these were the ones who had created him. No, he would have to take his chances, along with the rest of British wizard kind.
"Those of you who are adults will be stripped of your magic. Those of you we have judged to be truly repentant will be given a chance to earn it back. Your children are innocent of the crimes you have committed and will be allowed to prove themselves worthy of the gifts we have given them.
For you to understand those you have shunned, you will need to interact with them, learn from them. Be ruled by them."
"From this day forward, the wizards and witches of Britain will fall under the rule of King Jareth and his Consort, the Royal Prince Elessar of the Underground. Heed your rulers, and your magic may yet be returned."
"WE HAVE SPOKEN. WE HAVE JUDGED. SO MOTE IT BE."
And from the mouths of the wizard folk present great cries of turmoil and loss were wrenched. None present were left unchanged, save those who had already submitted themselves to the rule of King Jareth.
Much later, Bill, Sirius and Severus would reason that because they had accepted the bonds they had made with 'non-humans', they had already proven to The Fates that they were not as prejudiced as their brethren. Whatever the reason, they walked away from The Judgement with light, but grateful hearts, glad that they had been deemed worthy of their magic.
Never again would they count it as their right, to use and abuse at will.
Once the pronouncement was made, the courtroom facade flickered away, and the Atrium returned to normal. The room was still large enough to hold the people present, yet the only ones cognizant of that fact were the convoy from the Underground.
They were stood on the dais that Fudge had been addressing the press from, and could only describe the scene below as pandemonium. Adult witches and wizards alike were screeching and screaming, bemoaning the loss of their magic and crying out to The Fates to give it back. Some were even waving their wands, trying to cast, but failing.
Elessar turned to Jareth with a sad smile. "Whatever happens, our world will not be left unchanged, right?" He squeezed his lover's hand. "Amin mela lle. Let us begin this new life then." He declared and Jareth nodded. He held his mate's gaze for a long moment, drawing strength from the love and devotion he could read there. Then, he turned to face the rabid crowd.
"SILENCE!" He roared and in a few seconds, he was obeyed. "I am Jareth, King of the Goblins and the Underground. This is my Consort, the Royal Prince Elessar. Your government no longer exists, we are now your sovereigns."