The Trial,
A story by stealacandy
Table of Contents:
Prologue: The Lord knows you are not unintelligent
Chapter 1: 1st Trial: Can't you say something intelligent for a change?
Chapter 2: 2nd Trial: Miscarriage? Isn't that what witches have after Malfoy beats them?
Chapter 3: 3rd Trial: Et tu?
Chapter 4: 4th Trial: And Justice for All
Epilogue: Yet More Trials: Aftermath - I was under the Imperius when I wrote this!
The Trial, chapter no. 4
By stealacandy
Disclaimer: Will write for food!
4th Trial: And Justice for All
"Harry Potter, you are charged with casting the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix Lestrange, a crime that carries with it a sentence of a lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban Prison. How do you plea?"
"Erm, excuse me, Ma'am, but who accuses me this time?"
Harry asked, and not for the first time.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You just said I'm being accused of casting a cruciatus ON Bellatrix Lestrange. I don't see her around here pointing a finger." Harry said, looking around as if he could spot her in the crowd. "So, I ask again, who is accusing me of this crime?"
"Indeed," said Amelia. Turning to Fudge, she asked: "Well, Cornelius, who is accusing the defendant?"
Fudge managed to somehow stumble while sitting in his seat. "Lucius Malfoy-" Harry, apparently getting into that particular bad habit, cut him off in mid-sentence.
"Lucius Malfoy does not accuse me, Mr. Fudge," said Harry. "By his own admission, he lied on behalf of Lord Voldemort in order to get me in trouble. By the Wizengamot decree, he was found untrustworthy and unreliable as a witness. Therefore, in any way you take it, anything he says against me should be taken with a great grain of salt, and he shouldn't be allowed on the stand to testify - against me - or against anyone else, whatsoever."
"Why you-" began Umbridge, while Fudge stumbled over his seat again.
But Madam Bones's voice drown the rest of Umbridge's words. "Quite so, Mr. Potter," she said. "You are correct, once again." Turning back to look at Fudge, she said: "Well, Cornelius?"
Fudge looked at her, bewildered. "Huh?" was all he could come up with.
"Mr. Fudge, the defence, and the court, asked you, since you decided to bring up the charges, who accuses the defendant of the crime. We are all still waiting anxiously for your answer, Cornelius."
"Oh," said Fudge. He thought about it. "The Ministry of Magic, the Department of Law Enforcement, Amelia. As I already mentioned today - twice already - your men performed the Priori Incantation test on Mr. Potter's wand, and found out he cast the Cruciatus curse."
"But with that evidence you already charged me of cursing Lucius Malfoy!" Harry protested. "Either the evidence show I cursed him, or they show I cursed Lestrange, you can't have it both ways!"
"Neither can you, Mr. Potter," said Madam Bones. "You testified earlier that you haven't cursed Lucius Malfoy, therefore, if the prosecution can establish you cursed someone, then it must be Mrs. Lestrange."
"You are assuming Bellatrix Lestrange is any more intelligent than Lucius Malfoy?"
"Lestrange claimed she wasn't under the Imperius and served You-Know-Who willingly!" exclaimed the minister.
"Well, first she hasn't testified in this trial, has she? And it was nigh on fifteen years ago, a lot could have happened since. Then, also, if it was up to me, I'd say her claim was a sign of extreme unintelligence. All she had to do was claim she was under the Imperius and you would have let her go. Instead, she spent fourteen years in Azkaban. Not the smartest thing to do if you ask me. Not to mention, going into service with Lord Voldemort is a fairly dumb thing to begin with." Say what you will about him, but Harry is an opinionated prat at times. "But, assuming Mrs. Lestrange IS, indeed, intelligent, can you prove I cast the cruciatus on her?"
"That's what Lucius Malfoy said!" Fudge protested.
"That has no bearing on this trial!" Harry protested right back.
"But you cast the Cruciatus!" Fudge insisted.
"YOU say so," Harry replied.
"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement says so!" Fudge shot back.
"Then let them speak!" Harry said, in a thunderous voice.
"By all means, Mr. Potter," agreed the director of the DMLE, Madam Bones. "Mr. Fudge, call your - ahem - the witness."
"AGAIN?" Fudge cried in dismay.
"They want to accuse me, let them speak. Otherwise you have nothing against me whatsoever, and we should just shove this case away like we did the last two." Harry was annoyed. " Call your witness up, Minister, and let them accuse me. And by Job, I will challenge the accusation. I WILL FACE MY ACCUSERS!"
"Oh, very well," Fudge relented. "Ichabod Slicker, would you please stand up to bear witness in this trial?"
Ichabod Slicker, the Ministry's forensic magic export from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, took the stand, and, under Minister Fudge's guidance described examining Harry's wand with the Priori Incantatem spell and the results he got, detailing the myriad of spells Harry had cast during his running battle with the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries and the Ministry atrium.
Harry listened attentively as the Ministry's expert described - again - the spells he cast, thinking back on the battle at the Ministry and the tribulations he had faced, in his mind linking each spell to an action he took.
Bellatrix tried to summon the prophecy orb from him, he blocked her summoning spell with a shield of his own. After that, Harry talked with Malfoy and her, distracting them until his friends were ready to strike, blasting prophecies everywhere, causing mayhem and fashioning their escape. Together, they ran. Together, they fought their way out of the Hall of Prophecy - Harry fighting more like a muggle than a wizard - and locked the door behind them. After that, things went downhill. They got separated, and Harry found himself with only Neville and Hermione for company, Listening to Malfoy ordering the Death Eaters to hunt him and kill his friends.
The Death Eaters finally remembered they, too, were wizards and stopped trying to break the door by force, using the same opening spell Hermione has mastered and used to good effect in her first-ever term at Hogwarts. Harry and his friends ran, ducked and hid under some desks, hoping the Death Eaters would pass them by in their search for Harry and the other students. Except one decided to look under the desks instead, whereupon Harry stupefied him, before he could discover them and alert the Death Eaters. Of course, that gave the game up. Another Death Eater attacked Hermione, and Harry, once more, resorted to muggle-style fighting, tackling him to the ground, while Neville disarmed them both, their wands sailing into the Time Room.
Hermione stunned the man and retrieved Harry's wand. However, as the Death Eater collapsed to the ground, he fell into that time jar thingy to horrifying results, and Hermione lost her nerve, to her ultimate cost. The next time a pair of Death Eaters attacked, while Harry petrified one - as the Ministry expert attested - Hermione settled for silencing the other, thinking he was no longer a danger after that. Which is when the Death Eater in question - Antonin Dolohov, who had murdered Ron's uncles - struck her with his signature spell, only cast silently and non-verbally. He then broke Nevile's wand and threatened to kill Harry, only for Harry to petrify him, continuing Mr. Slicker's narrative.
"... Colloportus..." said the Ministry expert, and Harry recalled how he desperately locked the door to the room he was in - the one with all the floating brains - to keep the Death Eaters - Bellatrix Lestrange - away, only to realize, belatedly, other - many - doors lead to the room as well, leading to a desperate rush to close the other doors. "... twice..." detailed the forensic expert. But there were many doors, ands only three of the, still able to walk and to cast their magic about. The Death Eaters got in, knocking Luna out, only for Ron to distract them, entangling with one of those brain abominations.
"... a cutting hex, though I'm not quite sure what Potter was cutting..." Mr. Slicker continued, and Harry had to agree. He wasn't sure what those things the brain bound Ron with, either.
Luna, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all out cold, Neville couldn't speak or cast properly with his nose broken and probably didn't know any nonverbal spells - until that time, Harry didn't even know it was possible - it certainly wasn't something they got taught at Hogwarts! Harry ran, prophecy in hand, hoping the Death Eaters would give chase and leave his friends alone. Only while the five Death Eaters gave chase, Harry ran straight into the rest of them, including the ones he's previously taken down, freed from their stunning spells and petrifications.
Neville joined Harry and together they stood, surrounded by Malfoy and his fellow scum. Bellatrix took pleasure in torturing Neville, and Harry was ready to surrender. Luckily, the Order of the Phoenix chose that moment to appear and join the fray. With everyone busy dueling at least one opponent of their own, however, nobody noticed when Walden MacNair, the Death Eater who was fond of killing people - and magical creatures - without magic, accosted Harry and was suffocating him. no one, that is, except for Neville, that is.
Unable to cast, there wasn't much Neville could do, but he still found a way, in a reverse of Harry's first year tackle with the troll in the bathroom, Neville stuck his - or rather, Hermione's - wand in the Troll's - that is to say, MacNair's - eye, through his bine mask, distracting him long enough to give Harry succor and reprieve to bring his own wand about and-
"... a stunner on one of the Death Eaters, then another shield charm," came the forensic expert's voice. Harry's respite did not last long, as the Antonin Dolohov, free from Harry's petrification, just took Mad-eye down and turned his attention to Harry and Neville. Neville was summarily taken out of the picture, and then Harry had to defend himself from the same nasty spell the Death Eater used on Hermione. THen sirius entered the frame, tackling Dolohov, and Harry had to stop him, again, before he could use the same spell on Sirius. Harry petrified Dolohov for the second time that evening, hoping this time it would last.
Sirius ordered Harry and Neville away from the fight, only the were accosted by Lucius Malfoy, He-Who-Is-Always-Under-The-Imperius-Curse-Whenever-He-Does-Any-Evil-Or-At-Least-Whenever-He-Is-Caught, and Harry passed the prophecy to Neville and cast "Impedimenta!" to slow Malfoy down, which is when Remus Lupin stepped in to pick up the fight against Malfoy and free Harry to collect Neville and retreat. Together, Harry and Neville made their way up a flight of stairs when Harry was cursed in the back by a cowardly - and not particularly wise - Death Eater. Together they stumbled and together they fell, only to hit and break the prophecy as the landing broke their fall. Albus Dumbledore chose that moment to arrive, rekindling the hopes in their hearts.
Then Sirius died.
Bellatrix Lestrange has killed him, then ran away when coming face to face with the venerable Dumbledore. Harry, enraged, gave chase. Trying to impede him, Lestrange levitated the tank with the brain things inside and set them loose at Harry. Harry responded with a levitation spell of his own, moving him out of his way and returning to his pursuit of the Death Eater who just murdered his godfather. Harry caught an elevator up, and finally caught up with Lestrange in the atrium entrance, before he could make her way out of the Ministry building entirely. That's when-
"The next spell cast from Mr. Potter's wand was the unforgivable torture curse, on - eh- Bellatrix Lestrange, apparently, and..." the expert witness continued his account, and Harry wondered. His spell didn't work quite as advertised, as Lestrange was quick to mockingly point out to him, throwing a torture curse of her own his way, hitting the statue or something. And could they tell what - or who - a spell hit? Hmm...
Lestrange boasted of her far superior magical skills, skills which she soon brought to bare countering Harry's next - and last - attack on her with reflexive ease. "Finally, a stunner which appears to have been blocked and deflected away. After that..." The forensic expert finished retelling his account of examining Harry's wand by detailing the spells Harry used in his ablutions in the following morning, once Harry finally got out of professor Dumbledore's office and went to catch some sleep before being woken up by Fudge's aurors.
Now it was Harry's turn to examine the witness.
"Mr. Slicker," Harry began, "I am no expert on forensic magic myself, but back when Barty Crouch cast the Dark Mark over the last Quidditch World Cup, I saw Amos Diggory cast the Priory Incantation test on the wand and the green symbol of the ugly skull of Salazar Slytherin with the basilisk coming out of its head came out of it.-"
"What do you mean the skull of Salazar Slytherin, and a Basilisk, Mr Potter?" asked an intrigued Amelia Bones.
"What do you mean, what do I mean?" asked Harry. "The Dark Mark, you know, the one they always cast over Death Eater raid?. The one that all loyal Death Eaters bear on their left forearm!"
"Yes, yes, I know that, but why do you say the skull belongs to Salazar Slytherin and the snake is a basilisk?"
"I killed the basilisk. it came out of the skull," said Harry, demurely.
"What was that?" she asked again.
"I said, I killed the Basilisk, it came out of a Skull-like statue of Salazar Slytherin's head. Looked like an ape to me, personally, but I'm not an art critic. But it's not important to this trial!"
"Please, Mr. Potter, do tell. As both you AND the Minister previously mentioned, this trial is getting rather boring, a tale would be a nice change."
"Oh, all right," said Harry. "Well, ma'am, back in `93, when Lucius over there-" Harry pointed an accusing finger at Malfoy's general direction - "opened the Chamber of Secrets under Hogwarts and unleashed Salazar Slytherin's ancient, huge basilisk on the school, siccing it on students - and mind you, those were my friends being petrified by it - nothing was being done to stop any of it.
"Cornelius Fudge arrived at Hogwarts and arrested Rubeus Hagrid, sending him to Azkaban for several months. He didn't have any evidence pointing at Hagrid as the culprit, and Albus Dumbledore even protested that there was actually evidence clearly proving it was not Hagrid, but Fudge wouldn't budge. He didn't even have the decency to pretend he actually thought Hagrid was guilty, instead he insisted that 'The Minister of Magic has to appear he is doing something to appease public opinion' - those were his own words, you see - and promised professor Dumbledore to release professor Hagrid at a later date. So not only were my friends being attacked, but another of my friends was unjustly imprisoned for it.
"Lucius Malfoy escorted Fudge and he, as head of the board of the school's governors, removed Dumbledore from his position as Headmaster. It later came out he threatened some of the other people on the board with threats of violence and dark magic against their families unless they cooperated with him in this, blackmailed a few others, and the rest - well, the rest were some of those uninteligent people who served under Lord Voldemort as Death Eaters for long years at a time - I always wondered how any of them were ever allowed on the board, but then again, the Ministry of Magic is full of them, also.
"Anyway, like I said, nothing was being done. Draco Malfoy was going around Hogwarts, threatening 'mudbloods', as he called them, in front of the entire school and its staff, and nothing was being done about that, either. My friends and I thought he might be behind the attacks, but when we made discreet inquiries, we found out he didn't know who it was, only that his father did know for certain, that he was, in fact, the one responsible, having orchestrated the attacks, but wasn't telling his son anything. Draco Malfoy must have inherited his father's unintelligent stupidity, because he openly admitted it for anyone in the Slytherin common room to hear, whining about how his father refused to share the gory details with him, never for a moment fearing the consequences to his father if his culpability was given public. Then again, to this day, Lucius Malfoy has yet to pay for a single one of his (many) crimes, many of those which I am aware of, having first person knowledge of them. Undoubtedly, there are numerous other crimes of which I am not. Aware of, that is, ma'am.
"So, nothing was being done about the attacks, and then one student was kidnapped and taken into the Chamber of Secrets. She was my friend's sister, you see. And still, nothing was being done. Now, since Hagrid's arrest, Gilderoy Lockhart, who was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at the time, has been claiming he knew where the Chamber was, and that the monster never came out again because it was afraid of him. So the temporary Headmistress ordered him to go to the chamber and rescue the girl. She was - and rightfully so - of the opinion Lockhart was a useless fop and just wanted him out of the way. You see, she had - I think - in fact, already written the girl off as dead, and turned to the task of shutting down the school and arranging for the students to be returned to their homes. Now, that wasn't acceptable to my friend and I. We chanced hearing that exchange because we just arrived at the staff room to tell professor McGonagall I figured out the location of the Chamber. Well, where I thought the entrance is, at least, I had yet to verify my suspicions.
"Gilderoy Lockhart was a bit of a joke. We spent a year in his classroom, and had yet to see him teach any magic - or actually perform any magic correctly, in or out of class. Whenever he's attempted any spells outside class, he would fail, catastrophically so, often ending in disaster. Mostly to my cost, at that. For some reason, Lockhart seemed fixated on me, always wanting me to pose to photos with him and weird stuff like that. Still, he WAS the DADA professor, and, at least so he claimed, an honorary member of the Defence League, and an accomplished defence expert with an Order of Merlin, 3rd class, to boast of. So we went to his office and told him we thought we knew where the chamber was, and offered to show him the way, in case he wasn't completely certain of his own findings. But instead, we found him hastily packing his belongings, in a hurry to be gone. He told us he never did any of those things he boasted of in his books, only oblivated the people who actually did them, then wrote their stories as his own, claiming the books he wrote wouldn't have sold so well if he wrote the truth because those wizards who did do those things weren't very photogenic. Apparently, the witch who banished the banshee had warts, and the wizard who wrestled with the Wagga-Wagga Werewolf had rotten teeth.
"Now obviously, Lockhart was completely nutters, but we weren't going to let our friend down, and so we decided to go to the Chamber ourselves and rescue her. Only then Lockhart decided to oblivate us as well, just as he has done to his other victims, so that we couldn't reveal his dirty secret to anyone. Well, I didn't fight Lord Voldemort less than a year before that and sent him beating his retreat because I was lapse, I was quick in my response, and as soon as Lockhart finished telling us what he was about to do to us - actually apologising in advance - and brought his wand up, I already had mine trained at him, and cast a disarming jinx on him. We saw professor Snape use the Expeliarus on Lockhart before and knew he wasn't able to parry it. It was the only defense spell we learned in two years of schooling, anyway, so it's not as if we knew any other spell. So I cast it on him, followed shortly by my friend. We tossed Lockhart's wand out through the window, and made him come with us to rescue our friend.
"Truth to be told, I don't know what we were thinking or expecting Lockhart to do, the man was a complete waste of space. Still, we were twelve, and he just spent an entire year conditioning us into thinking he was this great hero, fighting monsters without even using his wand - wrestling a werewolf barehanded, cavorting with yeti and combating zombies with kitchen condiments. It still hasn't sunk in that he was nothing but a fraud, I suppose.
"To make a long story short, we arrived at where we thought the entrance to the Chamber was, there we spoke with the ghost of Voldemort's first ever murder-victim - well, the first that we know of - who pointed right at the entrance. We opened it and went down. Lockhart chose that time to jump my friend and capture his wand, saying he'll oblivate us and bring back the molding basilisk shed skin we passed by and say he killed the Monster of Slytherin but was too late to save the victim and that my friend and I both lost our minds seeing her mangled body, so he could write a book about it. However, the wand was broken.
"If you'll recall, in last year's trial I told you how a house elf cast a hover charm in my aunt's kitchen and Fudge refused to believe it or to allow the elf to testify. Well, that elf was Malfoy's own. Apparently I am somewhat of a celebrity among the elves, their masters having treated them badly during the years of Voldemort's early reign of terror, and only relented once he lost his power. Of course, the elf added, being a Death Eater's elf meant he was still treated the same and worse, but he shared his solidarity with the rest of his kind. So when he learned his master was planning to open the Chamber of Secrets with the key which Voldemort has left in his care, and there to bring him back to life, he feared for my life. He heard Mr. Malfoy say the Minister told him I fought Voldemort and vanquished him again just two months prior, and feared what might happen if I was confronted with Voldemort - and his monster - without preparation, this time. Thus, the house elf tried to get me expelled from school so that I wouldn't be there, wouldn't be in harm's way. That's elf logic for you, I really don't get it. Then again, of course, I am not an elf.
"The elf then continued with various attempts to make me not want to go back, failing that to render me unable to go back, and, once I was back at Hogwarts, attempts to scare or convince me to leave. I'm afraid to say most of these attempts ended up with me suffering bodily harm. At any rate, one such attempt ended up with my friend and I crushing head first into a whomping willow, which is when my friend's wand broke. That caused the nasty effect of occasionally backfiring - with the magic going from the wrong end of the wand, coming out of the handle instead of the tip, and shooting backwards, to hit the caster instead of the target. It was most unfortunate when it happened to my friend throughout the year, but this time it was quite a lucky happenstance.
"When Lockhart cast his oblivation charm, the spell backfired on him, and he ended up wiping his own memories - and most of the rest of his mind as well, if I understand correctly. I shudder to think how close I came to suffering that fate myself. I've seen Lockhart in the Janus Thickerly ward in St. Mungo's, you know. A year ago, back during my trial for defending my cousin and myself from Dolores Umbridge's attempt to murder me, Lucius Malfoy was waiting outside this courtroom for Minister fudge, and took the opportunity to place one Sturgis Podmore under the Imperius curse, ordering him to break into the Department of Mysteries across the hall. Podmore was apprehended and sent to Azkaban even though he was under the Imperius curse, for some reason. Then Lucius tried again, this time imperiusing an Unspeakable by name of Bode, but he got stuck between wanting to obey Malfoy's cursed commands and his superior knowledge as an Unspeakable that told him what Malfoy wanted accomplished was impossible to do - Mr. Malfoy didn't know that until after he helped break the former Unspeakable Augustus Rookwood out of Azkaban. In the meanwhile, Bode ended up in St. Mungo's, where he was subsequently murdered.
"Anyway, after that, professor Dumbledore apparently asked for volunteers in the Ministry of Magic to guard this floor from any further intrusion by Mr. Malfoy or any of his fellow intelligence, and Arthur Weasley, of the DMLE, volunteered for the job - which turned out not to be such a good idea, after all, when Voldemort's own snake familiar attacked him while scouting ahead in preparation for Malfoy's assault on the department the other day. Mr. Weasley nearly died - would have died, if not for the portrait of some old wizard alerting some people still on duty at that late hour who went and retrieved Mr. Weasley and alerted the healers.
"Mr. Weasley ended in St. Mungo's, and, as I was visiting with his children at the time, I went along with them when they went to visit him in the hospital. I did not wish to intrude on their private family union, so I wandered around outside, eventually bumping into Mr. Lockhart who apparently managed to wander away from his hospital room himself. He was practicing signing five autographs at once, poor fellow. Let's just say, I thank Merlin the spell Lockhart back instead of me.
"Lockhart also flew backwards from the impact of that spell, and hit the rock wall only to cause a landslide and bring down the ceiling on our heads. My friend and I both sprang out of the way, ending on both sides of a massive pile of rocks and debris separating me from the others. So, thinking time was crucial, as there was a message written in blood saying our missing friend was dying, I went on to rescue my friend's sister from the Chamber while my friend, who sprained his leg, turned to the task of clearing the rockpile, digging us an opening so his sister and I could get out of there on my - hopefully successful - return.
"When I got into the Chamber proper, I saw the girl lying there on the cold stone floor, unconscious. I foolishly dropped my wand and rushed to wake her up, but she wouldn't - and then someone told me that she wouldn't. I looked up to see who it was, and there was Voldemort, in all his ghostly glory. I'd say in the flesh, but he didn't have any. While he was able to hold my wand - which he picked up - and curse me with it, everything I threw his way - bits and pieces of rock and masonry, mostly - just went straight through him. Anyway, we exchanges some words, he explained to me Malfoy's plan, how he came to be there when, as far as I knew - having overheard professor Dumbledore say as much to professor Mcgonagall - he fled Britain for Albania the year before that, how he was feeding on the girl's life and magic, growing stronger by the moment - he certainly was growing more tangible as he spoke - and then he told me he would like to see how I, the famous Harry Potter, would fare against the Monster of Salazar Slytherin, whose gigantic statue was at the end of the massive chamber.
"So he addressed the statue as 'Salazar Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four,' and asked it to speak to him. It did - it's mouth began moving. Eventually, the basilisk slid out of the opening mouth. The statue's head looked eerily like a gaunt skull - it's no wonder Voldemort's family are actually called the Gaunts, you see, madam, and that's where Voldemort's Dark Mak comes from, trumpeting his self proclaimed status as the 'Heir of Slytherin'."
"I see..." said Madam Bones. Indeed, she saw. And was fascinated. "And then you killed the basilisk, Mr. Potter?"
"Oh, Heavens, no, I had nothing to fight it with. Voldemort had my wand, I had only my bare hands, and, well - there was this gigantic snake, over seven feet high and sixty feet long, maybe seventy, whose fangs deliver one of the deadliest poisons known to wizardkin and whose very glare is death. Its skin is very tough, and there wasn't much I could do bare handed. I did the only sensible thing - I ran."
"I see, Mr. Potter." She couldn't fault him there. "Do go on," she said.
"Well, Salazar Slytherin, for some reason, opted to hide his secret chamber at the drain basin of the school's sewage system, so I took up one of the sewer lines. Only those days they probably didn't have elves to clean, those pipes are big enough to accommodate wizards, or maybe trolls, and - yes, giant, millennia old, basiliscs. And while I was struggling to keep hold in the mire, the slimy serpent was gaining on me quickly. Anyway, along the way, earlier, I got my hands on an old sword, and in the meanwhile, Fawkes - that's Dumbledore's phoenix - arrived.
"When Fudge and Malfoy removed him, Dumbledore told me in Hogwarts there would always be help to those who require it, and indeed, Fawkes arrived at the nick of time and charged at the basilisk's eyes. Phoenixes are immortal, so I guess the glare wasn't a problem for him. So the basilisk was blind, but that didn't stop it from hunting me, serpents rely in their keen sense of smell anyway, their eyesight isn't much to boast of. But at least, without its deathly glare, and with a sword in my hand against its poisonous fangs, I had some chance. Better than with a wand, actually. Back then, the only defensive spell I knew was the disarming jinx, but snakes don't have arms. And actually, I still don't know any spells that would be any good against basilisks, now that I think about it. But a sword, well, a sword had some possibilities.
"When the monstrous thing opened its mouth to bite me or swallow me or stab me with its fangs, I stabbed right back at the roof of its mouth, through the bottom of the skull and into its brain, thus finally killing it. I was lucky enough, I guess, to find the one vulnerable spot the basilisk has - by accident. Only trouble, I got a chip of basilisk fang - and basilisk venom - embedded in my arm all the way down to the bone.
"It is a good thing that I already had a phoenix handy, one who felt kindly towards me, as it flew over and began crying over my wound, as I lay there, in the dirt, slowly dying away and in extreme pain. Voldemort stood there, laughing at me, saying the bird knew I was dying and there was nothing it could do about it, and so it was crying. Voldemort gloated about how he finally won, until he realized my wound was closing, and, indeed, the pain was quickly leaving away, to be replaced with a warm, cozy feeling. That's when he remembered that phoenix tears are one of the most potent healing agents there are - I guess not many phoenixes feel kindly towards him, so he mustn't have had much experience with them - and thus he tried to scare Fawkes away, but to no avail. Well, I picked up the fallen fang-chip that came out of my wound, and Fawkes flew over to pick up the thing Malfoy used to bring Voldemort back, and dropped it near me, so I stabbed it with the fang. Turns out, Basilisk venom is very good against Necromantic magic, and Voldemort's corporeal form dissolved into thin air amidst cries - howls - of pain.
"But that is not the encounter with Voldemort I wanted to speak of." Harry finally finished his tale.
"Indeed, Mr. Potter?" said Madam Bones.
"Yes. As I said, a visual representation of the spell came out of the wand as Mr. Diggory cast Priori Incantatem. Now, back in `95, after Voldemort's resurrection, he cruciated me a lot to weaken my already badly injured body, and called his Death Eaters to him so he could demonstrate to them that me vanquishing him back in `81 was a fluke. Especially since the Death Eater Avery told him there were no signs of him or he would have gone looking and brought him back much earlier, and Malfoy told him he was too busy taking over the Ministry of Magic in preparation for Voldemort's return to have any time to spare to actually spend any more time facilitating that return himself. So Voldemort Imperiused me to bow to him, gave me my wand and ordered me to duel him. He started throwing cruciatus curses right and left, a number of them hitting, a number I was able to dodge and duck.
"Eventually I hit him, rather oddly, with a Priori Incantatem. So, spells began coming out. The hand he created for Peter Pettigrew to replace the one he sacrificed in the ritual to resurrect him came out as a miniature silver hand. Other spells I didn't recognized also came out, and finally, the killing curses - the actual spirits of the dead came out - real-life-like, glowing in golden light - and talked to me, told me to fight him, gave me suggestions what to do and so on. Cedric Diggory asked that I carry his body back to his parents who were waiting at Hogwarts to find the outcome of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. So Cedric came out, then an Imperius on Barty Crouch - who Fudge insisted was simply crazy. And mind you, that was the only Imperius that came out, beside the one Voldemort cast on me. Not a single Imperius on anyone else. Not even Malfoy! Voldemort must have done it wandlessly somehow, without me ever noticing…
" Then came the ghost of Frank Bryce, the murder of which, in Voldemort's family's own house, from a killing curse, Fudge absolutely refused to investigate, then the ghost of Bertha Jenkins, that was kidnapped by Peter Pettigrew only half a mile away from Lord Voldemort's hideout in Albania. I heard Ludo Bagman say Fudge claimed she was forgetful and probably lost herself, and would wander back to the Ministry at some point in time. While it is true she was forgetful - she suffered from a badly cast oblivation - that doesn't sound like something the Minister should say when one of his employees has gone missing. Then again, I'm long past understanding anything Fudge does."
The Minister of Magic didn't even bother to protest that. He already saw the way the crowd was captivated by Potter's tale and was ruing the day he took up Lucius's suggestion to put the brat on trial. There was nothing he could do about it, however. As Dumbledore, and Potter, AND Amelia Bones all stated, it was the right of the accused to defend himself. And Potter was doing a good job at that.
And to think he could have let him simply walk away after being made a mockery three times in a row - only - if it wasn't for Dolores Umbridge coming up with an excuse to start a fourth trial. Merlin send there wouldn't be a fifth yet!
While Fudge was thinking of his own misery, Harry Potter went on with his tale. "So then after Bertha Jenkins was gone, my parents came out, first my mother," Harry sniffed, "then my father." Harry was milking the court - and everyone else in the courtroom - for their sympathy for all he was worth. "They told me to hold on just a bit longer, not to let go until Voldemort was on his knees, then let go and run to pick the Tri-Wizard cup - it was the portkey, you see - and, of course, Cedric's body."
"Anyway," said Harry with new vigor, "quite a few of the spells coming out of Voldemort's wand were miniature images of me, quavering in pain and screaming at the top of my lungs. So, as I said, I am no expert on forensic magic, but I saw it in action. So, Mr. Slicker," Harry said, turning away from the Wizengamot to face the witness, "You testified that you performed a Priori Incantation test on my wand and it showed I have cast the cruciatus curse. Could you share a bit more details with the court? What exactly came out of it? Could you identify who it was?"
"Well," said the wizard, "the image was extremely murky, but it looked awfully like that Bellatrix Lestrange."
"So you thought it was Lestrange I cursed?" Harry asked for clarification.
"Yes." the man answered.
"Let me get it straight. You knew I haven't cursed Malfoy?"
"Yes," answered the man again.
"Mr. Slicker, I'm not sure I heard yo well. Twice this day already, I was put on trial for cruciating Lucius Malfoy. With Malfoy himself being found untrustworthy by the Wizengamot, your testimony was the key evidence - the only evidence, in fact - for the prosecution - and you just sat there, knowing full well that I attempted to curse Bellatrix Lestrange, not Lucius Malfoy, and yet you said nothing?"
"Well, Mr. Potter, you must understand, the Minister-" he paused.
"Yes, Mr. Slicker," Harry urged him on. "The Minister?"
"Well, he said, the image was murky, I couldn't positively identify who it was, so I didn't have to mention it."
"So let me get this straight. The identification of the spell good enough to see it wasn't Lucius Malfoy, but the Minister of Magic ordered you not to tell that to the court - or to me, as the Witness for the Defence, so he could base this mockery of justice of his on Malfoy's false claims?"
"Y-yes," said the man once more.
"Please the court," Harry said. "Madam, something is very wrong with the way justice is dispensed by this government. I would have motioned for another mistrial, save for the fact this doesn't affect this trial, but rather the first two. It does cast new light at the Minister's actions, and I would like to ask he stepped down as a judge in this case, as he has shown he was prone to miscarry judgement - in any event, and especially as far as it concerns me."
Why, how dare you, you little-" Umbridge began to screech, but Harry quickly moved to cut her off.
"Please the court, I also ask Madam Umbridge should be removed as a judge as well. Seeing as she herself attempted to frame me for a crime after I defended myself from her attempts to kill me, I think she might be a tad bit biased against me to carry a fair judgement in this case, wouldn't you agree, your Honour?" he asked, looking to Madam Bones. "I mean, you heard her, right now, right?"
"Quite right, Mr. Potter, quite right. I don't think either of them should have set judgement in this case to begin with, and both certainly ought to have removed and rescinded themselves a long time earlier after certain... revelations came out, but better late than never, and now is as good a time as any, I suppose. let me put it up for vote."
In short order, Fudge and Umbridge were removed from the judgement with only a few voices raised to their support, and Madam Bones apologized to Harry on behalf of the court.
"Not at all, Madam, not at all. As you said, better late than never, and it is good to see someone, at least, in this government, actually doing their job correctly."
"Back to the questioning then." Harry turned back to face Icabod. "Mr. Slicker, you said the spell was too murky to absolutely, positively identify the person hit by the curse?"
"Y-yes, Mr. Potter," he stammered.
"So you have no idea if the person hit by the spell was intelligent or not," Harry pressed on.
"Um, -" Slicker began,
"But there is a good chance that it was her?" Harry asked.
"Who?" asked Slicker.
"Bellatrix Lestrange", Harry clarified.
"Yes." said Slicker.
"Good enough?"
"I suppose so." came the reply.
"What is good enough?" Harry asked.
Silence. Then; "I don't really know?"
"You don't know. Quite." said Harry, and paused, for dramatic effect. Changing tack, he proceeded.
"Okay. Now, you said the spell was murky. Was it clear enough for you to make sure, beyond doubt, that it was the cruciatus curse, as you testified earlier - three times, no less, or was that murky too?" Harry asked in mock outrage.
"Well, not exactly," Slicker began saying, but Harry jumped at his throat.
"NOT EXACTLY? YOU SAT HERE AND TESTIFIED I CRUCIATED BELLATRIX LESTRANGE, AND NOW YOU SAY YOU'RE NOT EVEN SURE EXACTLY IF I MAYBE CAST THE SPELL? EITHER I CAST IT OR I DIDN'T, HOW CAN YOU NOT BE SURE? WOULD YOU PLEASE MAKE UP YOUR MIND?"
"Well, see, Mr. Potter," Ichabod Slicker began again, looking very small indeed. "It's not that simple. The Minist-"
"THERE'S THE MINISTER AGAIN!" Harry interrupted him again at a below. Catching his breath, he calmed down some and continued in a resigned voice;
"What did the Minister do this time, tell you to claim I raped Voldemort's mother and thus gave birth to him? Wait, no, don't answer that, I don't want to give him ideas, the man might actually try it. WHAT DID FUDGE DO?" Harry finished in a bellowing crescendo once more.
"Well, the Minister didn't say anything, the Minister's secretary, Umbridge, actually, she said it looked enough like the cruciatus to stand at court."
"The Minister's secretary said..." Harry said in a mocking tone. "Oh, for Merlin's sake!" he wrung his hands. "Who is the forensic magic expert, you or she? The woman couldn't reverse simple pranks used on her by disgruntled underaged students of magic, and had to call on the full resources of the Ministry of Magic - aurors, guards, torture, veritaserum, reading the students' post, hexing their owls, having the Department of Magical Transportation eavesdrop on all their Floo-calls, an inquisitorial squad of bullies to attack those she didn't like, and those they didn't like, and what they called mudbloods and blood-traitors in general, and, to complement their number, a pair of security trolls - not that anyone could tell the difference, really, with all that trollish behaviour - and yet she's somehow become an authority over the best and brightest the Ministry of Magic for Great Britain has to offer? When did that happen?"
"Well," said Slicker miserably, "It didn't. She's not. But she's the Minister's right-hand woman, he has her ear - you said so yourself, all the power he gave her last year: aurors, and trolls and everything - it didn't escape our notice. And you said yourself to what lengths the Minister would go to protect his own or persecute those who inconvenience him - kill them, send them to Azkaban, even the Kiss - that's why YOU are here right now! What did you want me to do? They would have fired me right there if I said anything against it!"
"So, in order to protect your cushioned job, you were willing to commit perjury and lie to the Wizengamot to support a false claim that would have landed me in with the dementors for life. is that it?" Harry continued relentlessly.
"YES!" cried Slicker. "NO! It wouldn't have mattered, if I said anything, they would have just gotten rid of me and found someone else to testify in my place!"
"But it does matter, Mr. Slicker," said Harry, "it does matter. It would have mattered. You see, if you have refused them, then I could have brought that up at this trial, saying the first expert refused to testify to those so called 'facts' as you presented us with earlier, so much so that even in face of prosecution and the very real chance of losing his job over it, he still refused to give his name to that report, that would have laid a great shadow over any other 'expert' witness Fudge might have conjured up. On another note, Mr. Slicker," Harry asked, intrigued. "How is it the Minister's secretary, whose job is mostly to carry paper and deliver drinks, knows so much about the cruciatus curse? I myself know quite a lot about it, having been hit with it more times than I care to remember, but I doubt that happened to Umbridge in her line of work?"
"Well, um..." said Ichabod. "I guess she must have had some experience with it."
"Indeed," said Harry "I guess she did. Well, it's a good thing then that my friend stopped her when she tried to use it on me.-"
"Dolores Umbridge tried to use the Cruciatus on you, Mr. Potter?" asked Amelia Bones.
"Oh, yes, that was right after she admitted to sending the dementors after me and attempting to poison me with enough Veritaserum to kill all her pet trolls with enough to spare for her pet kittens, and put professor Snape on probation for being unhelpful to the Ministry of Magic when she summoned him and he told her she's exhausted all his supply of the potion and it would take the better part of a month to brew her more. It was also right before she forced my friend and I to go into the Forbidden Forest without our wands, announced that the Ministry of Magic did not value our lives, pushed us straight into the midst of a herd of angry centaurs already disposed against their human neighbors, and commenced to further enrage them by calling them things like "uninteligent beasts". Now, people like Lucius Malfoy might take pride on such declarations, but the centaurs, unlike wizards, apparently, are a proud race, and quickly took offence to that, and began trying to kill us.
Anyway, she said Fudge was glad when she sent the dementors to kiss me and provided him with the opportunity to put me on trial, and that what he doesn't know won't hurt him so she would cruciate me to satisfy her curiosity. She pointed her wand at me, and with the usual expression of disdainful maliciousness she reserves for me, commenced to cast 'Cruci-', only stopping short of the '-o' because my friend stopped her. I doubt it would have been much worse than Voldemort's cruciatus, but the torture she subjected me to throughout the year was painful enough, I'm glad I didn't have the opportunity to sample her cruciatus as well, Ma'am. Especially as she proposed to torture me for information I did not possess, so who knows when it might have ended. I've seen the Longbottoms in St. Mungo's when I helpe Gilderoy Lockhart back to his bed. They didn't know what the Lestranges wanted to learn, either, I'm told."
"I see," said Amelia. Indeed, she saw, and what she saw wasn't to her liking. No sir.
"Indeed, Madam Bones. Well, Mr. Slicker here seems to think Dolores Umbridge has experience with the Cruciatus curse. It hasn't escaped my notice, either, that she called Bellatrix Lestrange by the endearing 'Bella'. Not even Malfoy called her that, and the man is married to her sister. I wonder, how close is Madam Umbridge to Madam Lestrange? Perhaps, just perhaps, it isn't I who should be sitting here on trial for casting that particular Unforgivable curse?"
"I will take it into consideration, Mr. Potter," Madam Bones promised.
"That is good to hear, Madam," said Harry. Back on track, "You realize, Mr Slicker, that you've lost your job, don't you?" he commented, offhandedly.
"I- what?"
"You admitted - on record - I can have the record read back to you - that you perjured yourself on no fewer than three criminal trials in front of the entire Wizengamot, at the behest of your political masters. There isn't a Witness for the Defence worth his water - other than Ministry appointed ones, perhaps - that wouldn't bring it up as soon as your name is mentioned anywhere near an investigation. You could never take the stand, you probably couldn't even touch the evidence. which is what you are paid to do. So you couldn't do your job, right?"
"Oh dear," said Ichabod, crestfallen.
"Take heart, Mr. Slicker", said Harry. "I bet there are a lot of people around the Ministry who can't do their job but get paid anyway. why, just look at Mr. Fudge over there," Harry gestured at the Minister. "He's a prime example!"
"Mr. Potter, if you would please refrain from insulting the Minister" said Amelia Bones, the sole remaining judge presiding over Harry's trial.
"That was an insult?" wondered Harry, aloud. 'My apologies, Ma'am, I haven't realized." Turning to the witness, he continued with his line of questioning. "To go on, Mr Slicker, could you possibly tell us, per your expertise and experience - I'm assuming you have those? Only your integrity is in question, not your expertise, correct? - why, in your opinion, was the spell that came out of my wand in Priori Incantatem so murky you couldn't come to any conclusive results?"
"Well," said Slicker, "Either it wasn't the Cruciatus Curse, or it wasn't performed right, or you used something to protect the wand to protect the test."
"Protect the wand? I wasn't aware that was possible," said Harry. "Do YOU know of such a method to do so, Mr. Slicker?"
"No, no way that I know of."
"Then you expect me to have done something to my wand to stop the Priori Incantation effect to take hold of it? You're supposed to be the expert, I'm just a school kid!"
"Well, you fought You-Know-Who and won, not many others can boast of that." returned the wizard.
"Yes, I won with am expelliarmus, That's a spell eleven-years old kids were taught in dueling class. I have it on good authority all those Death Eater kids who defy the underage law and begin learning magic as early as eight or nine years old learn it even earlier, so that when THEY are eleven, they can already learn dark curses to use on their unsuspecting, law-abiding fellow students. That's not such a great thing to boast about. It was more of a draw than a victory, at that, and had more to do with luck than with talent. All the other times I bested him, and I did best him, it was not with a wand.
"The only time I faced him in a magical fight proper, matching him spell for spell, I was completely outclassed, what with him studying and practicing magic since circa 1934 or earlier, well, at least that's the first documented time he cruciated children wandlessly and without an incantation, he probably had some practice before that, I guess - and with me having practiced magic only since late 1991, with only one DADA professor worth mentioning who barely lasted a single school year, and him concentrating only on defending against dark creatures and not on dark wizards, as the curriculum for that year went, and with the constant attempts on my life, of which I lost count a long time ago, and my continued struggle to stay alive by staying ahead of them, along with the occasional thwarting of attempts to resurrect Voldemort taking much of the time I might otherwise have spent studying and practicing magic, not to mention so many torture sessions with Dolores Umbridge, countless unwarranted detentions, mostly with professor Snape, but with a few others as well, at least early on, mostly because he was in a bad mood or because Malfoy was trying to get me into trouble - the son, that is, not the father - and unlike the Ministry of Magic that holds proper trials for people accused of misdeeds - well, most of the time - Okay, some of the time - Hogwarts doesn't have those, and Snape's authority is absolute, as was Umbridge's in her time. Except she had even more power of authority, being the Inquisitor and all, with all that is implied by that particular, poor, tasteless choice for a name - well, it all consumed a lot of my time already - and then, last year a bunch of students pressed me to teach them what little I learned the hard way - from experience - and so I had close to no time at all to actually study anything helpful.
"Then, in the last two years, since Voldemort was back in Britain with a physical, material body of sorts, and especially this last year, when he got his own old body back, that his constant legilimency assaults on my head became so much worse than the sporadic assaults they were since I beat him back in `92, and left me with a great, continuous migraine that left me without the inclination to do anything but go to sleep. Certainly not to delve into the books. So, frankly, Mr. Slicker, I don't know how you would expect me to know the first thing about magic, let alone something you yourself, the celebrated expert, do not. If it isn't taught at Hogwarts, I don't know it. And most probably even if it is. The only spell outside curriculum that I know is the Patronus Charm, and then only because when Sirius Black finally broke out from his illegal imprisonment, Cornelius Fudge decided to stage over a hundred dementors near Hogwarts, and they took every opportunity to hunt me down and try to kiss me when I was outside the school, going so far as to break into the grounds on several occasions and chase me there as well, so I had no chance but to learn how to stave them off, as time and again Cornelius Fudge refused Albus Dumbledore's pleas to remove those foul creatures and place aurors in their steads, before they accidentally - or on purpose - kiss any of the students.
Here Harry was interrupted by Amelia Bones again. "Excuse me, Mr. Potter, you stated that Sirius Blacks's imprisonment in Azkaban was somehow illegal?"
"yes, I have", Harry replied. It was an off-hand remark, but this could serve as an opportunity to right at least one wrong.
"Could you please elaborate, Mr. Potter?" asked Madam Bones.
"Yes, ma'am." Harry agreed. "I believe the Ministry of Magic established that Lord Voldemort has indeed returned? I mean," Harry added, abashedly, "dozens and dozens of wizards saw him dueling professor Dumbledore the other night, have they not?"
"Quite right, Mr. Potter", said Madam Bones.
"And I'm assuming," Harry continued, "the Ministry also established that Lord Voldemort did not pop out of thin air, yesterday, but rather has been back in power for a year, mustering his forces before he attacked - first Azkaban, then the Ministry - and thus established that I told Minister the truth a year ago when I informed him of Voldemort's return?"
"That is correct," Madam Bones agreed.
Harry harrumphed. "It stands to reason then that all of what I told the Minister back then was true, does it not? Including the part where it was non other than Peter Pettigrew who helped him get there. Now, if Pettigrew is alive, or at least was alive a year ago, then obviously Sirius Black did not kill him, correct?"
Madam Bones agreed, and Harry continued his argument. "If Sirius Black did not kill Peter Pettigrew, he didn't kill anyone else while doing it, since he did not, in fact, do it. Now, twelve muggles undoubtedly died; their bodies, unlike that of Peter Pettigrew, were actually found. Dead. But, if Sirius Black did not kill them while in the process of killing Pettigrew, it stands to reason he did not kill them at all. Which leaves the only other wizard present, Pettigrew himself, as the culprit. It, too, it stands to reason that he was the killer, as we now know he is a Death Eater, and, considering Voldemort wasn't around to make him into one before he got better, that means Pettigrew already was a Death Eater fourteen years ago, when he accosted Black.
"We know Pettigrew is a very deadly wizard. He killed Cedric Diggory for no other reason that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He kidnapped Cedric by mistake. He kidnapped Bertha Jerkins, Frank Bryce, Barteius Crouch, Alastor Moody and myself on purpose. Of those, only Alastor Moody and myself are still amongst the living, and that only because Pettigrew still had use for us alive, and because we were able to escape or be rescued once he no longer needed us for anything. Frank Bryce, too, was in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and was killed instantly. Bertha Jenkins was also in the wrong place at the wrong time, but Pettigrew found some use for her, so she lived, for a while at least.
"Those twelve muggles who were killed when Pettigrew confronted Sirius Black had that in common with Cedric, Bryce and Jerkins. They were all in the wrong place at the wrong time when Pettigrew went after something he wanted. In this case, he wanted to fake his death, as we now know. He was afraid, you see. Because, if he was a Death Eater and he confronted Sirius Black, it certainly wasn't for Black betraying my family to voldemort - after all, Pettigrew supported Voldemot himself!
"No, Pettigrew didn't confront Black because Black betrayed my family - he didn't. It was Pettigrew himself who betrayed us, and now he was on the run, because Voldemort never came back from my home, and Pettigrew was afraid the other Death Eaters would blame him for it. And nobody ever accused the Death Eaters of mercy. Or even rational thinking, come to think about it. This past year Umbridge lectured us on how, instead of defending ourselves from dark wizards, we should try and reason with them, talk them out of harming us. But Pettigrew was one of them. He knew there was no reasoning with those people, otherwise they wouldn't have become dark wizards in the first place. So Pettigrew wanted to get away from the Death Eaters. But he also had to get away from the Ministry, who would have searched for him if they knew he was alive, for being a Death Eater and betraying my family and all. Which Sirius Black could have told them, had they bothered to ask.
"So instead Pettigrew confronted Black, loudly blaming him for the death of my parents, then blew up the street behind his back and ran away, leaving Black to be hit by the ensuing explosion, easy picking for the Ministry people when they came to see what it was all about. All this information would have come up in Black's trial, had he ever been given one, but, instead, he was thrown to Azkaban Immediately after he was picked up from the street, without so much as being charged with a crime. Therefor, I reiterate, his imprisonment was illegal, not following any semblance of due process whatsoever. Mind you, I already told Minister Fudge all that two years ago, the day my friends and I captured Sirius Black right after he himself captured Pettigrew."
By this time, Madam Bones was more or less speechless, so Harry decided to let her stew on it at a later time. Right now he had a courtroom to win, with razzle and dazzle, and quickly so. What a better time than now? Before anyone could say anything, he was back on track.
"Anyway, back to the topic, " Harry started again, "I didn't do anything to shield my wand from Priori Incantatem, I wouldn't know how, and you said yourself" - here turning towards the seated witness - "that even you, the expert on the subject, do not know such a way is even possible. Furthermore, you testified earlier that several spells came out of my wand - were any of them murky like this supposed Cruciatus?"
"No, Mr. Potter," said Slicker, "None of them were."
"None of them? They were all clear and crystal?" asked Harry.
"Crystal, Mr Potter?" asked the wizard.
"Sorry, a muggle expression," Harry appologised. "Something about crystals being clear. But back on topic - the spells were all clear, no murkiness, no distortions, nothing to suggest the wand was shielded in any way against the effects of your test spell?"
"No, nothing," agreed Slicker.
"So that strongly suggests one of your other theories must be the correct one, Mr. Slicker, don't you agree?" asked Harry.
"I guess so," was the answer.
"What were they again, Mr. Slicker?" Harry asked, pretending curiosity. "That I didn't, in fact cast the Cruciatus on Lestrange, but some other spell, or... what was that other theory?"
"That you didn't cast it properly." answered the expert.
"And there you have it." said Harry in satisfaction. Facing the Wizengamot, he said: "Madam Judge, members of the Wizengamot, you just heard the only witness the prosecution had to support their claim of a crime on my part tell you that, one way or another, I did not, in fact, hit Bellatrix Lestrange with an Unforgivable curse. I believe the way to your sentence is clear. Before that, however, I have one more question for Mr. Slicker. Mr. Slicker," he said, turning back to the witness. "As I described before, when Priori Incantatem took hold over mine and Voldemort's wands, any number of Cruciatus curses came out of his - little images of myself, shrieking in pain. I'm shooting in the dark here, but please tell us exactly what is it that came out of my wand when you cast the Priori spell on it. Murky, little mini-Bellatrix-look-alike doing what, exactly? Was it shrieking and quivering in pain, or was it perhaps doing something else?"
"Itwaslaughing", came the reply, in a small voice.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Slicker, I didn't quite catch that. Could you repeat your answer for me please?"
"I said, it was laughing!" said Ichabod, resignedly.
"It was laughing." Harry repeated after him, in a derogatory manner, stretching the words. "Some expert you are, Mr Slicker. Don't you know, the last thing you do when hit with a cruciatus curse is laugh. Believe me, the pain leaves you very little room for anything but the pain. The most you can do, with what little breath you can inhale, is scream, scream for all you're worth, until you're out of breath. After that, it hurts too much to breath. What you don't do, Mr. Slicker, is laugh."
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Wizengamot, if the prosecution finished calling up witnesses, the defence rests its case." Harry surmised. "I think we've heard enough."
With that, Harry walked back to the defendant's chair, and took his seat.
A/N:
The bit where Harry clarifies why Sirius wasn't supposed to be in Azkaban is all new (2014), and I don't like it, I don't think it belongs, and it - or something like it - has been rehashed numerous times already. And yet, having written it, I find myself somewhat reluctant to give it the axe. What do you make of it?