"Twenty Four Hours is not long enough to prepare for a case like this, especially not when on the evidence here, Black will be acquitted within minutes." Hatham stresses, dropping the paper-thin file on his desk in disgust. "I'm sorry, Crouch, I'm not coming out of retirement to stand in front of the Wizengamot and ask them pretty please to find the defendant guilty even though his wand was destroyed without anyone casting an incanti priori on it, none of the witnesses can remember a thing because they've all been obliviated and no one has a decent explanation for how an explosion that apparently obliterated the rest of Pettigrew's body managed to leave behind a finger!"
"So avoid those points."
Hatham snorts. "You think they'll let me? You think the defence are going to let me avoid the subjects that practically make their entire case for them? Perhaps you should accept the fact that your people could well have made a mistake, issue Black a pardon now, and avoid the drama of a court case which you are going to lose-"
"So think of it as a challenge." Crouch suggests. "See this not as a court case but as a test. Can you secure a guilty verdict from practically nothing, or is that beyond even you, old friend?"
Hatham hesitates, and Crouch can see the cogs of his brain whirring, his morality- which would normally inhibit him from trying to destroy a man he thought was innocent-warring with his ambition, his pride- and perhaps even boredom. Crouch can practically smell the adrenaline starting to pump through his old friend as he considers trying to do it- construct a case out of almost nothing in twenty four- twenty two hours now- and win it. "The defence lawyer will have had exactly the same amount as time as you to construct her arguments." Crouch persisted. "And I looked her up- she's barely just twenty, no former experience in the Wizengamot..."
"Alright." Hatham says. "Alright. I need all of Black's school records pulled under a warrant- I want to interview all his teachers...get me Pettigrew's school records as well, he was supposed to be thick, wasn't he? You say Dumbledore believes he's guilty? Put plants in the gathering that takes place before the Wizengamot to talk Dumbledore's reputation up. Get other plants to talk the House of Black's down. Can you contact the Daily Prophet? I want the trial to be front page news tomorrow morning, complete with full, embellished detail on what Black did- I want the facts as everyone believes them to be now to be the only thing the Wizengamot read over their breakfast. You say you have records on this lawyer of Artucus'?"
"Rachel Cicero" Crouch replies.
"I want dirt. Just in case..."
"Whatever you need." Crouch pauses. "We will get him. We'll show Black up for the murderer he is, we'll show the Wizarding World what happens when you're lax with families who dabble in the dark arts...we should have stamped the whole family out years ago."
It's their dream. The dream of the Pura Lux – a world where only the light side of magic exists. Removing the House of Black from the world is, as Dumbledore said six years ago, a good place to start- they're all rotten, through and through.
Yes, Crouch thinks- they will rid the world of evil. Starting with Black at the trial tomorrow, after which he'll use his memory of the conversation in his office a few hours prior to have Artucus arrested for bribery and corruption- whatever his magical strength, he's still an old man. A month in Azkaban and he'll be dead of pneumonia. And he'll be able to have Bagnold removed as well- his popularity among the common people was high enough that he would take her place easily-
"Crouch, did you hear me?"
"Hm?" Crouch asks. Hatham is staring at him with a concerned expression.
"I said why was Black's wand destroyed? I'm going to need a decent answer on that point."
A necessary precaution. Crouch thinks. Once we'd got Black for something, we couldn't afford to have him walk free.
"The wand was badly damaged in a fight with the Hit Wizards." He says aloud. "Our experts told us that casting any magic on it or with it would produce an explosion large enough to destroy the room and everyone in it."
Hatham nods. "Alright. That's fair enough. Now can you get me those school records?"
"Of course." Crouch says. "I'll send a message up to the school."
MASS MURDERER BLACK TO BE TRIED AT NOON! Screams the Daily Prophet headlines FOR A FULL ACCOUNT OF BLACK'S CRIMES, SEE PAGES TWO TO FIVE! FOR INFORMATION ON HOW THE TRIAL WAS BROUGHT ABOUT, SEE PAGES SIX TO SEVEN! FOR AN IN DEPTH LOOK AT THE DEPRAVITY OF BLACK'S PARENTS AND GRANDPARENTS-
"See pages eight to sixteen." Dorea says, dropping the paper in front of them. "Artucus, I'm sorry, I really have to ask this- is it true that you keep pickled snakes in jars in your bedroom?"
Artucus looks hurt. "Of course not! All snake heads, pickled or otherwise, are kept in the basement, where such things belong."
"Nake!" Harry shrieks from his high-chair, whacking the spoon Charlus is holding out of his hand and splattering his grandfather's robes with mush. "Nake! Nake, go sssssssssss."
He produces a startlingly realistic snake noise, and Artucus raises his eyebrows. "You like snakes?" he enquires, sliding his wand from its' holster and raising it so that Harry can clearly see the end. "Expecto Patronum" he says softly. A thin trail of silver shoots from the wand, expanding and shifting, swirling backwards and draping itself around Artucus as it takes its' form- a massive serpent, slender but incredibly long, and lithe looking, with beady eyes and glimmering scales, and a fork tongue that flickers every so often. "This is Septimus," Artucus says, scratching through the patronus' semi-corporeal head. Harry hisses again- and Septimus hisses back.
"I'm sorry," Dorea says, "Why do you even have snakes pickled?"
There's a loud crack as Empson apparates in to the kitchen, looking harassed. "Have you seen the papers?" he asks. Before anyone can reply, there's another crack, and Cicero appears.
"Have you seen the papers? It's fantastic!"
Everyone stares at her . "What?" she asks. "It is, they've done a wonderful job of painting Pettigrew as a hero-"
"How is that good?" Empson asks.
"Because it solves our "He was an idiot" problem. It talks him up enough that he seems brave and clever- two qualities you would need if you were going to try and frame an old friend whom you know is quite capable of being lethal., don't you agree, Empson?"
"If I were you, I would avoid bringing the papers up."
"If I didn't know full well that it was the prosecutor who tipped the Prophet off, I would agree with you- but a friend- well, I say a friend, I've defended him in the small courts several times-anyway, he owes me a few and he works with the Prophet, he told me that it was the prosecutor who'd tipped the journalists off. Our opponents want all this information in the Wizengamot's mind before the trial starts, and they'll probably bring it up. Well good. Fantastic. They've tried to be clever, and now I have rope to hang them with." She looks at them with a grim satisfaction.
"Do you have the names of the witnesses being brought up?" Empson asks.
"Dumbledore." Cicero shrugs. "Minerva McGonagall as his head of house- I don't suppose you know who Severus Snape is, do you?"
"Snape..." Charlus says slowly. "I don't think he and James got on very well, so it probably extends to Sirius."
"Alright. One to watch out for." Cicero says. "They've pulled Sirius' school records, but his marks were always good and his detentions were mostly prank related- regardless, it took me two months to sort through the copies I obtained, so what the prosecutor's managed to get through, I don't know."
"Do we know who this mysterious prosecutor is yet?" Artucus enquires.
"Crouch has pulled Hatham out of retiremen- Artucus, is your patronus supposed to be being petted by your grandson's godson?"
Everyone looks toward Harry; Septimus has slithered up to him and is sniffing the infant's hand curiously. Artucus sighs and waves his wand, dispelling the patronus.
"Blasted thing has a mind of its' own." He says sounding regretful and looking smug. Dorea rolls her eyes.
"Anyway, all the statements of all the hit wizards who pulled Sirius in are going to be read out." Cicero continues, distraction over. "I've not been allowed to see them, because they're 'classified'- for someone so het up about the rules Crouch is doing a fantastic job of bending them; technically I'm entitled to see every piece of evidence against my client before the trial- but it's not an overly big deal. It just means if I lose, I've got grounds for a mistrial."
"Hatham is prosecuting." Empson says slowly.
"Yeah."
"Who's presiding over the court?" Charlus enquires.
"Crouch." Cicero grimaces. "But I have no reason to object, apart from the fact I think he'll find my client guilty. There's one other thing- I'm not allowed to see Sirius before the trial starts."
Everyone freezes. "What?" Dorea says, her voice dangerously low.
Charlus' jaw locks, and Artucus begins to drum his fingers against his wand. "What rules are they playing by?" he hisses. "This is all a jumble-"
"This is the result of calling for a trial the next day." Cicero says calmly. "I imagine Crouch is playing up to the emergency laws- no one apart from the aurors are allowed near a dangerous criminal such as Black until and unless he's been cleared, for their own safely, is the official story." She pauses. "Do you all intend to come to the trial?"
There are three indignant 'of courses!".
"Have you arranged for anyone to look after Harry?" Cicero enquires. "You'd be allowed to bring him in to the gallery, but I don't think, given his fame, that that's a good idea. It might remind people whose parents Sirius supposedly got murdered"
"Remus Lupin is coming over." Dorea says. "He is- was- a friend of James' – and of Sirius- he's baby-sat Harry before-"
"Mooey." Harry burbles.
Artucus looks fascinated. "Sirius scarcely spoke a single word before he was five." He says. "I remember his mother yelling at him. How do you get this one to chatter so much?"
"No one yells at him." Charlus says drily.
A glance at the clock puts the time at 8.30. The trial starts in three and a half hours. They've done all the ground work, and the three months of preparation Cicero had before now is two months three weeks more than lawyers normally have to go over a case that would appear in the Wizengamot- but still. Empson can't help wishing they'd had more time- Cicero is, to his mind, being far too casual about all of this. And if they lose- Empson remembers the hours he spent arguing with Orion Black's pet solicitor over the charge that the Potters had "Stolen" Sirius, as if the boy were nothing more than a valuable piece of property. He'd begun to build a case for the Blacks to be prosecuted for abuse to scare Orion off- and the questions he'd forced that child to answer...the answers he'd given...
They couldn't lose this case. Sirius deserved a stretch of good happening to him that lasted more than five years.
They couldn't lose.
A/N Sorry sorry sorry, it's been too long. As brillian as Pottermore is, there are things I wish they didn't tell us- like the fact that Dorea and Charlus are not, contrary to popular fanon, Harry's grandparents. It kind of took the wind out of this... Still, here we are, chapter seven. Hope you all enjoyed