Chapter 7
The Hearing Redux
Monday arrived and Harry awoke with an odd premonition, a sense of foreboding about the hearing that afternoon. He put it off as jitters; it was perfectly normal that he'd be nervous about a disciplinary hearing, even more so if he were guilty of the charges he'd been accused of.
Sitting up slowly, Harry reached over and shook Ron, who was still snoring in his bed. "Ron," he said groggily. "Breakfast."
Ron stopped snoring. "I'm up," he said, then began snoring again. Harry pulled on a T-shirt and jeans, put on his trainers, then went over and shook him again. Ron awoke with a start.
"Ready for breakfast?"
"Yeah, I could use it," Ron said, rubbing his stomach. "I feel like I'm starving this morning." He jumped up and threw on jeans over his pajama bottoms; he was already wearing a T-shirt. They both went down to the Burrow's kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley was already fixing eggs. Mr. Weasley was at the kitchen table.
"Good morning, boys," he said cheerfully as they entered. "The big day, isn't it?" he smiled at Harry with a confidence Harry wished he could feel as easily.
"Good morning, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "Good morning, dear," she added to her son. "D'you both fancy some eggs this morning?"
"Yes, please," they both said, and within seconds both had dug into the mound of hot eggs, toast and glasses of pumpkin juice that she placed in front of them as well.
Mr. Weasley checked his watch, then stood. "I'm going to push off," he said. He turned to Harry and Ron. "If you and Hermione get a chance, pop by my offices before heading to your hearing. I'll let you know of any developments I hear this morning. Bye, dear," he said to Mrs. Weasley, kissing her on the cheek. He picked up his briefcase and was off.
"Is Hermione up yet?" Ron asked his mother between mouthfuls of egg and toast.
"She might be," Mrs. Weasley said, staring upward in the general direction of Ginny's bedroom. "But she hasn't been down for breakfast yet." She continued to stare upward.
Ron followed her gaze, then looked back at her. "Did you get yourself a Moody-Eye, Mum? Having a look?"
"What?" Mrs. Weasley shook herself. "Oh, of course not, don't be silly, Ron." But Harry thought he caught her momentarily glance toward him. Was something going on with Ginny, he wondered?
Hermione and Ginny appeared a couple of minutes later and seated themselves at the table with murmured "Good mornings" to Harry, Ron and Mrs. Weasley, who produced plates of food for them.
"When d'you think want to leave?" Ron asked Harry who, with his mouth full of eggs, merely shrugged.
"A bit early," Hermione suggested. "We can have a look round Diagon Alley before we go to the Ministry offices."
"Oh, can I go too, Mum?" Ginny said at once.
Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "No, Ginny, you aren't allowed to go in with them at the hearing."
"But I can stay in Dad's office! Or I could wait at Fred and George's! Please, Mum!" Ginny wheedled.
"Oh, all right," Mrs. Weasley relented. "I'd like a chance to get out and about today, if the truth be known."
Soon breakfast was eaten and they were preparing to leave. Mrs. Weasley was puzzling over how to get them all to Diagon Alley. "We can just Apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, Mum," Ron said impatiently.
"You, Harry and Ginny still can't Apparate," she said sternly. "I don't want us to get separated."
"I can Side-Along with Hermione," Ron said, nodding toward her. Hermione looked surprised but nodded agreeably.
"Mum, Harry and I can use Floo Powder to get to Fred and George's and just wait for you lot there," Ginny pointed out.
"I thought the Floo Network was off," Harry frowned.
Ginny smiled puckishly. "It is, but Dad's connection on the Floo Regulation Panel got us connected to the shop on the sly."
"Mmm," Mrs. Weasley pondered this. "You'll both stay at the shop here 'til we get there, then?"
They both nodded meekly, then looked at each other and grinned. "I saw that," Mrs. Weasley shook a finger at them, but then smiled wryly and turned back to the others. "Right. Let's get going, then." She waved Ron and Hermione out the door, then turned back to say "We'll see you at Fred and George's!" before pulling the door shut behind her.
It occurred to Harry that he was now alone with Ginny for the first time since they'd talked at Dumbledore's funeral. He looked at her, uncertain what to expect.
She seemed to read his thoughts. "Don't worry, I'm not upset. At least, not at you," she added.
"Who are you upset with, then?" Harry asked immediately.
"Myself, I suppose. Oh, I raked you over pretty good with Mum," she said, not at all abashed. "Called you all sorts of perfectly horrid things, telling her how selfish you were, or whatever. I'm sorry."
"Not a problem," Harry said. "I sometimes wonder just how selfish I really am, doing all this."
Ginny nodded, apparently satisfied. "Right. Well, you know who'll be waiting for you when you've finished with what you're doing."
Harry stepped up to her. Her eyes were bright and fierce as she looked into his, and again he wished he could just let everything go and be with her. He touched the side of her face, and her eyes closed. "I will come back to you when I'm finished, I promise," he whispered to her.
How long they stood like that Harry couldn't tell, but Ginny's eyes finally opened. "Well," she said, exhaling gustily. "We'd better get a move on or they'll wonder what we've been up to."
They each took a handful of the powder and threw it into the Weasley fireplace. Bright green flames shot up in it and Ginny stepped into them, shouting "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!" She began to spin very fast and disappeared. Harry stepped in behind Ginny and did the same, enduring the sucking, spinning sensation of Floo-travel until he found himself next to her again as he stepped out of the fireplace in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
"Welcome, young lovers," came a familiar voice, and Fred Weasley stepped up to shake Harry's hand, then tweaked Ginny's nose, who promptly pulled her wand out.
"No more of that, Fred," she warned, shaking her wand threateningly at him. "I'm not twelve any more."
"Aaah, our ickle Ginnykins is a woman now, is she?" George said sweetly from behind her.
"Knock off the 'ickle Ginnykins,' nonsense, will ya?" she said irritably. But she put her wand away.
"Right," Fred said crisply. "So what brings you and young Mister Potter to our fair shop?"
George was looking at Harry appraisingly. "Today's your hearing, isn't it, Harry?"
"At two this afternoon," Harry replied, nodding. "I guess we decided to make a shopping trip out of it," he added, a tinge of irritation creeping into his voice.
"Who's running the hearing?" Fred asked, now serious.
"As far as your dad's been able to find out, Scrimgeour himself, since he hasn't filled the position of Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Harry said.
"You and he aren't exactly best pals, are you?" Ginny put in.
"No," Harry conceded. "But your dad thinks Scrimgeour will give me a fair hearing."
Verity, Fred and George's employee, stepped into the doorway. "Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley," she said. "Your mum's out here with some friends. She said to let you know."
"Thanks, Verity," Fred said. "We'll be out in a sec." George and Ginny walked out ahead of them, but Harry caught Fred's eye and hung back.
"I want to ask you or George something," Harry said quickly in a low voice. "How can I keep my wand safe if they decide to find me guilty no matter what?"
"Expecting some jiggery pokery, are you?" Fred said knowingly.
"I'm expecting something," Harry said, rubbing an itch at the back of his head. "If Scrimgeour destroys my wand it'll be difficult to come up with a replacement."
"We can fix that quick enough," Fred said. He stepped over to a shelf marked "Self Defense" and pulled a wand out of a box. "George and I were thinking about a new kind of wand a few weeks ago and we came up with this." He held it out to Harry.
Taking it, Harry saw nothing more than an average-looking wooden wand. "What's it do?" he asked.
"Touch tips with your own wand and say 'Exemplaros,' " Fred suggested. Taking out his wand, Harry did so; instantly, the wand Fred had given him turned into an exact duplicate of his own.
"Wow," Harry breathed, looking at the duplicate. It was now virtually indistinguishable from his own wand; he could even see a slight nick in it he'd made some time in the past.
"I would defy even old man Ollivander himself to tell which of those wands was the real one," Fred said proudly, "short of trying to do magic with it. The wood, the core, everything about your wand is perfectly copied by our Wand-Mate. If you think your wand is going to be taken, just put the Wand-Mate in your wand pocket and keep your real wand somewhere else 'til it's safe."
"Excellent," Harry said happily. A thought occurred to him. "Can I tell them apart without having to try a spell?"
"Yep. Easy enough," Fred said, taking the fake from Harry. "Hold your own wand and say the word 'Adicio' to yourself." Harry did this and felt his wand buzz and shake slightly in his hand. "Just a quick charm to see if a wand will respond to you," Fred explained. "Now try it with this one." They swapped wands and Harry said the word to himself several times. The fake wand didn't respond at all.
"If you want to keep both wands in the same pocket that's how you can tell 'em apart," Fred said, giving Harry back his own wand. "C'mon, we'd better get out front or people will start to talk about us." He led a chuckling Harry out onto the main floor of the shop where George and Ginny were talking to Ron, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley near the front door.
"There you two are," Mrs. Weasley said when she saw them approaching. "I thought we'd have to come find you! Where would you like to go shopping first, dears?"
"The bookstore," Harry and Hermione said at the same time, while Ron said, "Quality Quidditch Supplies!" then "Ouch!" as Hermione trod on his foot.
Looking at her watch, Mrs. Weasley said, "Well, we might do both if we hurry, if we want to have time for a bite before you're off to the Ministry for your hearing, Harry dear."
"What's this?" Hermione said suddenly, noticing a bin filled with hats, capes, and other garments, labeled, "Famous Wizards' Costumes."
"Oh, those," Fred said. "We had a lot of hats left from our Shield Hat inventory. We stopped selling them to the public," he explained, "because of dodgy folk trying to get hold of them, like those werewolves at Bill and Fleur's wedding."
"The Invisibility Hats aren't selling much now. But we had a brain wave," George said, taking one of the hats out of the bin; a tag attached to it said Albus Dumbledore Hat Mask. "What if the hats, instead of making you invisible, made you look like a famous witch or wizard? That's what our Famous Wizards' Hat Masks do. For example –" Fred dropped the hat on the nearest person's head, who happened to be Harry, "– voilá!"
Harry's features began to change. His hair went long and white, a beard sprouted from his chin, his round glasses became half-moon spectacles, and his nose lengthened and became rather crooked. Everyone gasped at the change.
"My word!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "He looks exactly like Professor Dumbledore!"
Ron was trying not to laugh. "Yeah, Dumbledore in jeans and trainers!" Ginny and Hermione had both covered their mouths and were looking at each other, wide-eyed.
Harry couldn't see his own face, of course, but he looked down at his clothes and grinned, imagining how comical it must be to see their old headmaster wearing everyday clothes.
Fred had reached into the bin and pulled out a cloak with a tag that said "Albus Dumbledore Robe Costume." "To complete the ensemble, we add this," he said, throwing the cloak over Harry's shoulders. Harry's clothes were replaced by the more normal (for Dumbledore) deep purple wizard's robe. It was as if Dumbledore had returned from the grave.
"That is amazing magic," Hermione breathed, impressed.
Fred and George both bowed low. "Just ten Galleons for the hat," Fred said. "And four for the cloak."
"And if you buy the set we knock off two Galleons," George added. "They're sure to be a hit for costume parties if you're pressed for time to come up with a good disguise."
"Who else have you got?" Harry asked.
"Godric Gryffindor, of course, and Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff," Fred rattled off the names. "Don't imagine we'll have much call for Slytherin."
"Or You-Know-Who," George added darkly. "But we've also got Merlin, Circe, and a few current-day favorites like Celestina Warbeck, Fleur Delacour –" Ginny rolled her eyes "— and some Quidditch players like Gwenog Jones, Aidan Lynch, and Viktor Krum."
There was a crash outside the shop, and everyone turned to see two elderly witches staring through the window at them in shock. One, a shorter, plump witch in a maroon robe who had dropped her package, turned and spoke to her companion, a thin, iron-haired woman wearing a deep blue robe and a matching traveling cloak, who shook her head slowly. The short one stepped to the door of the shop and the other followed her, still shaking her head.
As she entered the Weasleys' shop, the short witch's mouth dropped open; she stared in amazement at Harry, who suddenly realized that he was still wearing the Dumbledore mask and cloak.
"A-Albus," the shorter one stammered. "Is that really y-you?"
At that same moment Harry recognized the two women. They had been in Courtroom Ten at his last hearing, waving at Dumbledore when he presented himself before the Wizengamot.
"No, ma'am," Harry said apologetically, taking off the hat to reveal his own features. "It's just a disguise."
The taller one looked disapproving, but the shorter one was clearly relieved. "Merlin's beard, young man, you gave me quite a start!" she said, now laughing at her own shocked reaction. "I've known Albus Dumbledore a very long time; I thought for a second he'd come back to collect Tabitha and me!"
"Don't be silly, Verdani," the taller witch said curtly. "You knew it couldn't be Dumbledore. You were at his funeral, after all."
"Oh I know that," retorted the other. "He was always on about how peaceful he hoped things would be once he'd gone on."
"Excuse me," Harry interrupted them; both witches looked at him inquiringly. "I'm Harry Potter. Weren't you both in the courtroom the day the Wizengamot had my hearing, two years ago?"
The shorter witch searched his face. "Ah! It is you, then! I wondered why you looked familiar. Do you remember him, Tabitha?" she said, turning to the taller witch, who nodded.
"I do. I was surprised Dumbledore actually took time out of his schedule to appear at a hearing for one of his students. I always thought," she continued, "that Dumbledore was just using that as an excuse to give Fudge his comeuppance before the Wizengamot. It appears there is more to the story than meets the eye, isn't there?" she asked shrewdly, her eyes on Harry.
"Yes, ma'am," Harry agreed. "A lot more." He looked at both of them. "Are you going to be at my hearing this afternoon?"
"You have another hearing before the Wizengamot, dear?" the shorter witch asked blankly. The taller witch said nothing.
"Yes, I – well, I thought you would both – I mean, you were at the first one," Harry fumbled over himself trying to find the right words. "That one was supposed to be in Madam Bones's office, but it was changed to that – that courtroom and in front of the full court."
"Yes, what a shameful miscarriage of justice that was," the taller one said, with some disgust. "Cornelius Fudge trying to discredit Dumbledore and shore up his political power, and not caring who he had to step on to do so. Absolutely disgraceful."
"Besides that," the shorter witch added. "I don't think Rufus will even be at the Ministry this afternoon. He has some business up north, I believe. We had court this morning with him on a meeting of some importance, in the matter of –"
But the taller witch cut her off. "Verdi, you know better than to discuss cases openly, before they're settled," she said reprovingly.
"Sorry, Tabby," the shorter one muttered.
"I'm Elder Skuld of the Wizengamot," the tall witch said, "and this is Elder Norncombe. We apologize again for disturbing you. Come, Verdani." She turned and strode regally from the shop. The shorter witch scurried to keep up, but she stopped at the door and gave them a little wave and a smile.
"Good luck at your hearing, dear!" she said to Harry, who nodded and watched as they continued on their way down Diagon Alley.
Ron, looking at Harry and Hermione, said, "Did we miss an owl or something, then?"
"I don't know," Hermione said slowly. "But this looks very suspicious."
"Maybe we should head over to the Ministry right now," Harry said. "We can talk to Mr. Weasley, see if he can find out what's going on."
"I can do that alone," Mrs. Weasley said. Her manner had changed; she was now very crisp, very businesslike. "It would be too suspicious for all of us to show up there at once." To Ginny she said, "Stay here with your brothers."
"Can't I come with you?" Ginny said, disappointed. "It won't look suspicious if just you and I stop by."
"I said stay here!" Mrs. Weasley said sharply, and Ginny lapsed into a sullen silence. She turned to Harry, who had taken off the cloak and dropped it and the hat back into the bin. "Harry, dear, you should stay here as well, you shouldn't be off alone anywhere before we clear up what's happening."
"I won't go off alone," Harry promised. He and Ron exchanged a momentary look.
"Very good," Mrs. Weasley said, rummaging through her purse. "You should all eat lunch while you're waiting; not too much, though. You'll want to stay alert for the hearing. Oh! Here, Harry." She produced a Galleon from the purse and handed it to Harry, who looked at it, then her, curiously.
"What's this for?" he asked, perplexed. "I already have money, Mrs. Weasley."
"I know, dear, but if I need to contact you a message will appear on the coin," she explained; behind her, Hermione's mouth had fallen open in shock, although Mrs. Weasley didn't notice. "Mind you keep an eye on it. If I don't flash you, you'd all better come to the Ministry just in case I haven't had a chance to send a message. Come to Arthur's office before you go to the hearing." She hugged Ginny, who hugged her back perfunctorily as she was still sulking, then bustled out the door and toward the exit.
Hermione took the coin from Harry's hand and looked at it in disbelief. "I can't believe it! How did she come up with my idea?"
Fred and George looked at her rather sheepishly. "Well, that's on us, I guess," Fred said apologetically, rubbing his chin. "We mentioned it to Lupin a year ago or so; he thought it was such a great idea he made up a set of coins for the Order of the Phoenix. Very advanced magic, though – any of the coins can send a message as well as receive it, and it can be any words that'll fit on the coin, not just a prearranged set of them."
"We've been wanting to do something like them to sell in the shop for some time now," George mentioned. "But the magic is hideously complex. Plus, we want to use something other than coins but there's not much else that's likely to be in anybody's pocket." Harry took the coin back from Hermione and stuck it in his pocket.
Ron and Hermione went to one of the nearby cafés and picked up sandwiches for everyone to eat. After lunch, Harry and the others changed into their Wizarding robes, although Harry was wondering how smart it was going to look walking through London dressed in long, flowing robe in the middle of July. He sat with Mrs. Weasley's coin, alternately flipping it idly and examining it for any changes. It was well after one p.m. when they finished with lunch; Ron and Hermione sat with Harry, anxiously waiting for word from Ron's mother or father – or anyone.
"Too bad she didn't tell us how the ruddy thing works," Ron muttered. He sat up quickly. "Say – I bet Fred or George could figure it out quick enough."
"Probably not," Hermione said nervously. "We're going to have to leave soon if we're going to make it to the Ministry by two."
"How far is it?" Ron asked.
"Several blocks from the Leaky Cauldron," Hermione murmured. "If only we could Apparate –" she said absently, then looked quickly at Harry. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –"
"Don't worry about it," Harry said. "It's not important."
"You know where we're going, then?" Ron asked him in a worried tone.
"Er –" Harry realized he didn't actually know where the visitor's entrance to the Ministry of Magic was, even though he'd been there twice before: once with Mr. Weasley for his first hearing, when they'd taken the underground from Grimmauld Place, and the following June when he and a group of students from the D.A. – Dumbledore's Army – rode on thestrals from Hogwarts, to rescue Sirius, which had turned out to be a trick to get Harry into the Department of Mysteries to recover the Prophecy so Voldemort's Death Eaters could take it to him. "Oh, hell," he said, annoyed.
Hermione sighed with exasperation. "We'd better get going, then," she said briskly, gathering the papers she'd brought with her.
But Fred came to the rescue. "Here," he said, writing down instructions on how to get to the telephone booth. "It's not a far walk, but you'll need to get in once you get there." Turning to Harry, he shook his hand. "Good luck, mate," he said soberly, but with a wink.
Harry, Ron and Hermione walked to the exit of Diagon Alley and out through the Leaky Cauldron, waving to Tom the barman, then out onto Charing Cross Road. Turning north, they walked for some ways before Hermione indicated they should turn east. Still glancing every so often at the coin Mrs. Weasley had given him, he followed Hermione through the streets of London until they came upon the entrance to the Underground station where he and Mr. Weasley had arrived upon his first visit to the Ministry. "I've been here before," Harry said, heartened at seeing a familiar landmark.
"Not too much further," Hermione said, concentrating on her instructions. The street was bustling with Muggles and cars going past them and on about their own business. Hermione turned up the same side road Mr. Weasley had, and they continued on. Ron looked nearly as awed as his father had at the tall buildings and gleaming automobiles, the strangely dressed (to him) men and women walking by them.
A few minutes later, the buildings had begun to look both smaller and shabbier, and they passed by the pub Harry remembered, its dumpster overflowing as usual. Nearby was the old red telephone booth, still looking rather abused. Hermione sighed in relief, and Harry smiled thinly; the phrase out of the frying pan leaped into his head unbidden.
"Let's get on with it, then," Hermione said, motioning to Harry. He stepped in, making room for them to budge in behind him, and dialed the numbers 62442: M-A-G-I-C. A cool female voice spoke, seeming to come from all around them rather than the receiver. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."
"Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley; we're here for my disciplinary hearing at 2 p.m. today," Harry said as clearly as his now-dry throat would let him.
"Thank you," said the cool female voice. "Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes."
As they did this, the cool voice continued, "Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wands for registration at the security desk, located at the far end of the Atrium."
The floor shuddered and they started moving downward, the light outside the telephone booth slowly disappearing until there was only black and the grinding sound of the booth. Harry could hear Ron and Hermione's nervous breathing in the darkness.
Finally a crack of light appeared at their feet, expanding as they descended until they were once again fully illuminated, and the booth came to a halt.
"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," the woman's voice said; Harry stepped out, followed closely by Ron and Hermione, both looking around in awe. There had barely been time during their first visit to look around, much less take in the size and activities going on in the Ministry Atrium. Wizards and witches were appearing and disappearing into fireplaces set along the length of the hall, and a new set of statues in the Fountain of Magical Brethren had replaced the ones destroyed by the battle between Dumbledore and Voldemort over a year ago.
"Let's get this over with," Harry said between his teeth. He headed toward the security station, Ron and Hermione hurrying along behind him. Stepping up to it, he found the same wizard Harry remembered from before, still in his peacock blue robe but now sporting a short, badly-trimmed beard. He looked up at the three of them with half-lidded eyes, evidently quite bored, or sleepy, or both.
"Your business?" he finally said in a tired voice.
"I'm here for a hearing at two p.m.," Harry said quickly, noting the time on a cuckoo clock on the wall behind the guard. They had barely ten minutes left to get to the hearing, and they still had to find the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's offices.
The wizard stood lazily. "Each of you step over here," he said, indicating a spot near him. Harry looked at Hermione and Ron, wanting one of them to go first. Ron looked back at him skeptically but Hermione nodded, urging him, and Ron finally moved timidly in front of the guard. He passed a long, golden rod in front and back of Ron, then frowned and pointed at one of his pockets. "What's in there?" he asked curtly.
"What?" Ron looked down. "Oh – er, it's just –" he reached in and produced a handful of Dungbombs. Looking up at the guard, Ron said haltingly, "Er, these – these aren't mine, they're my brothers'."
"They just happened to fall in your pocket, did they?" The guard smirked, and held out his hand. Ron glumly handed them over and the guard tossed them into a small try.
"Wand," he said next, and Ron produced his wand. The guard put it on a small brass instrument shaped like a set of scales with only one dish. It began to vibrate and a few seconds later a slip of parchment appeared, which the wizard picked up and read. "Fourteen inches, unicorn-hair core, been in use about four years, correct?"
"Uh, yeah," Ron said. The guard handed him his wand back, thrust the slip of parchment onto a small brass spindle, and motioned for the next person.
Hermione stepped up and was searched. She had no contraband on her. Taking her wand, the guard repeated the examination and read off the results. "Twelve inches, dragon-heartstring core, in use for six years. Correct?"
"Yes," said Hermione, taking her wand back. Finally it was Harry's turn to be searched. He stepped up to the guard, who ran the golden rod around him, then hesitated and passed it by him again.
"Is something wrong?" Harry said, trying to sound casual.
The guard hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothin', just didn't get a clear reading from your wand at first. Your wand," he said, holding out his hand.
It was time to test Fred's special wand. Harry reached into his pocket and grasped one of them, thinking the word Adicio. To be sure he grasped the other wand, pretending to fumble, and repeated the word in his head. His wand vibrated reassuringly and Harry quickly brought out the other one. "Sorry," he mumbled to the guard, who shrugged it off and placed Harry's wand on the instrument, then read off the slip of parchment that appeared a moment later.
"Eleven inches, phoenix feather core, been in use for six years. Correct?"
"Yes," Harry said, taking back the wand, hiding his elation. Now, if need be, he could hand over the fake wand and still keep his own! "Thanks," he said to the wizard, and they began to move toward the elevators beyond the golden gates.
"Hold it," the guard said, and they stopped. "You'll need an escort." He tapped a piece of parchment on his desk, and it quickly folded itself a small paper airplane. Tapping it again, it stuck to the tip of his wand and he launched it into the air; it flew past Harry's ear and he watched it as it floated determinedly down the hall.
"We don't have much time," Hermione said nervously, noting that the clock had only a few minutes before two now."
The guard had sat back down, unconcerned. "Don't worry," he said in a bored tone. "They'll still be up there when you get there." He chuckled to himself at this, apparently finding it amusing.
A few seconds later another guard approached them, and Harry got another shock as he saw who it was: Marcus Flint, the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team during Harry's first year at Hogwarts, was trudging toward them. Seeing them, his trollish face cracked into a wide grin.
"Well, well, well," he said with a satisfied smirk, standing before them. Even though Harry had grown himself in the past couple of years since he'd last seen Flint, the ex-Slytherin was still a massive, imposing figure. "If it isn't Mr. Harry Potter, and friends," he said, with a leer at Hermione. Beside him, Ron bristled. "In a spot of trouble, are you then, Potter?" Flint continued with a sneer.
"We're supposed to be at the offices of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at two," Harry said coolly, not letting Flint's manner upset him.
"Let's get going, then," Flint said, jerking a thumb toward the golden gates, beyond which were several golden-grilled lifts, one of which would take them to the second floor where the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was located.
When one of the lifts opened, Flint stepped up as the occupants vacated and held up a hand stopping other wizards and witches from entering. "Sorry," he said smoothly, motioning Harry, Ron and Hermione into the lift. "Important business. Harry Potter here is going to another disciplinary meeting. He's almost late." Flint stepped into the lift, smiling evilly, and the doors closed.
Inwardly Harry was furious at Flint for making his business so public; outwardly, however, his face was composed and calm. He even let a small smirk cross his own lips, making Flint frown.
On the second floor the lift opened and they stepped into the hallway. On the right were several doors; the first one bore the words
Dept. of Magical Law Enforcement
Department Head
There was a space for a name which apparently been erased. Harry imagined that it had once held the name "Amelia Bones" there, before she had been killed.
Opening the door, Flint stepped back and mockingly gestured them inside. Harry stepped in, wondering anxiously who he would see, but the office was empty. The office was spacious, almost huge, with shelves along the two walls on either side of the desk filled with books. There were three seats placed in front of the large wooden desk. At the front of the desk was a name holder which was empty.
"Have a seat," Flint said with another evil smile. "I'm sure someone'll get to you sooner or later. Good luck, Potter." And with a laugh he closed the door.
The three of them stood there for a moment. "What do we do now?" Ron said, finally, sounding almost frightened.
"Have a seat, I guess," Harry said with a shrug. They walked around and sat down: Harry in the center chair, Hermione on his left and Ron on his right. Hermione began shuffling through the sheaf of papers in her hands.
Ron was looking all around, at the books, the desk and other objects in the room. "I wonder why Scrimgeour never replaced Madam Bones' position?"
"Maybe he couldn't find the right person for the position," Hermione suggested.
Harry closed his eyes and put his hand over them, resting his head on the heel of his hand and the arm of the chair. At least they were here now, they hadn't been late – and nobody had died yet, he added jokingly. Now it was just a matter of –
"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter." At the sound of the girlish, high-pitched voice every one of Harry's muscles clenched. Beside him, Hermione gave a small half-stifled shriek and Ron uttered a curse under his breath that Harry hoped only he had heard.
"YOU!" he heard Hermione say, but even before looking he knew who it was. There was only one person that voice could belong to. Turning around, Harry saw Dolores Umbridge standing in the doorway, a thick folder full of parchment documents in her hands, her toadlike face split in a wide smile. She closed the door behind her and waddled behind the desk, turning to face the three of them. Still smiling, she leaned forward and looked Harry in the eye.
"It looks like you've been practicing magic out of school again, Mr. Potter," she trilled, giving him a look of mock disappointment.
"He was found innocent of that charge –" Hermione began, but Umbridge put up a quieting hand.
"Tut, tut, my dear," she said reprovingly. "You'll have your chance to speak in a moment. Now where was I? Ah — " she dropped the folder on the desk in front of her, opened it, and then looked back at Harry. "Well," she said with a cheerful, contemptuous smile. "Let us begin this properly, shall we?" A glance at Hermione told Harry she was bursting to speak, but she held her tongue; Umbridge, taking this for compliance, cleared her throat with a little cough, "Hem, hem," and looked down at the parchment spread before her.
"This disciplinary hearing, this fourteenth day of July," she began, her high, girlish voice making the words into a children's song, "into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy, by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surry.
"The Interrogator is Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. Witnesses for the defense are: Hermione Jean Granger, of London; and Ronald Bilius Weasley, of Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon."
"The accused is charged with the following," Umbridge continued in her small-girl voice, the malevolent gleam in her round, bulging eyes belying the innocent tone of voice with which they were uttered. "That on June 25th of this year, you, Harry James Potter, at your place of residence, did knowingly and willfully perform magic before attaining your 17th year of age in the probable presence of Muggles.
"It is further alleged that later that same day, you did knowingly and willfully enjoin, engage, or persuade two wizards, namely one Hermione Granger and one Ronald Weasley, both of whom have already come of age, to perform magic in front of, or upon, Muggles in their presence."
"We were never informed of that charge!" Hermione said angrily.
"It was added only this morning, in the light of new evidence," Umbridge fluttered. "An owl has been dispatched to each of your homes."
"Fat lot of good that does us," Ron muttered, then jerked back as Umbridge's hand moved suddenly, pointing, not a wand, but a teacher's pointer, at him.
"Do you have something to say about how this hearing is being conducted, Mr. Weasley?" Umbridge barked at him, her voice cracking like a whip. Ron, nearly panicked, shook his head wildly before realizing that she was not pointing a wand at him. She smirked, dropping the pointer. Ron slumped and looked away from Harry and Hermione, embarrassed by his reaction.
Harry's hand had gone instinctively toward his wand, but Hermione reached over as if to stop him. Only that, and the fact that he'd hesitated lest he pulled out the wrong wand, had kept him from drawing on Umbridge. She looked at him indulgently, then reached over and tapped his wand arm, not gently, with her pointer.
"Please remove your hand from your wand, Mr. Potter." Her face was calm but Harry could see in her cold eyes the fury they hid; she had tried to bait him into pulling his wand on her! Harry let go of his wand and removed his hand from his pocket, his fingers spread to show he had nothing hidden.
"Now let's get on with this," Umbridge said coldly.
"May I speak?" Hermione cut in quickly.
Umbridge looked at her patronizingly. "Do you wish to offer testimony in the matter, dear?" She made the final word a curse.
"I wish to address the court and request a dismissal of the charges against Harry," Hermione responded just as coldly. "There is insuf —"
"Excuse me, my dear," Umbridge interrupted her. "Are you here as a witness for the accused?"
"Well, yes, but –"
"Then this court disqualifies you from speaking for the accused," Umbridge declared. "I'm sorry, dear." Her toadlike smile, however, made it very clear she was anything but sorry.
"That is not in the Ministry manual on courtroom procedures!" Hermione objected, standing and taking a very confrontational pose.
"It's a recent addition, dear."
"Dumbledore spoke for me at my first hearing," Harry added.
"As I say, it's a very recent addition," Umbridge smiled. "It was put in to avoid certain conflicts of interest."
"To make it harder for the defense, you mean," Hermione fired back.
"That is a matter of opinion," Umbridge shrugged. "Your opinion, Miss Granger, and since you are not a trained profession advocate or Ministry lawmaker, it is scarcely worth worrying over." Hermione's eyes flashed fiercely, but she sat down with her arms folded across her chest, waiting for Umbridge's next move.
Umbridge, apparently satisfied with muzzling Hermione, turned next to Harry. "Mr. Potter, do you have any evidence to offer at this hearing before a decision is rendered?"
Hermione gasped, clearly outraged, and Harry said loudly, "You haven't even proven that I've done anything!"
Umbridge jabbed a finger at him, reminding Harry very much of Uncle Vernon in the delight he always took in catching Harry out. "That's where you've very, very wrong, Mr. Potter! The facts here are incontrovertible." She read again off the parchment sheets before her.
"First, you are a resident of number four, Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surrey. Second, you are the only resident there who is a wizard. Third, magic was performed at your residence at 11:12 a.m. on the morning of June 25th. Therefore, as the only resident at that time capable of performing magic, you are the most likely person to have done so."
Harry stared at her, amazed. "First off," he said tightly. "I was not the only person there capable of magic. There were two others, and they are both here right now to give testimony in the matter."
"I'm sorry," Umbridge said sweetly. "But they're disqualified."
"WHAT?!" Harry bellowed, and all three of them came to their feet. "How can you disqualify them?!"
"Conflict of interest," Umbridge said briskly. "You will be a witness at their hearings next month. This creates a conflict since it therefore benefits them if you are cleared of these charges. To remove this conflict, you cannot benefit from their testimony, however innocent their intentions may appear to be."
Ron finally found his voice. "You're joking!" he said loudly.
Umbridge looked at him balefully. "I assure you, Mr. Weasley, I am not."
Harry didn't know what to do next. He looked at Hermione helplessly. She stared at him for a long moment, then glanced loathingly at Umbridge before turning back and saying a single word: "Quorum."
"That's right!" Harry said, remembering what Hermione had said while strategizing about this hearing. "You need at least a minimum of three members of the Wizengamot to attend a hearing for there to be a majority." How in the world Harry happened to remember this based on Hermione's one word was beyond him.
"There weren't enough members available," Umbridge said quickly. She had dropped her artificial smile and was now openly hostile.
"Liar!" Hermione crowed triumphantly. "We know for a fact that the Wizengamot met this morning!"
"And how would you know that, you silly girl?" Umbridge snarled at her.
"We saw two members just before lunch in Diagon Alley," Hermione replied. She leaned over Umbridge's desk, their faces barely a foot apart. "They told us they were at a court meeting this morning. So either they are lying, or you are." She stood back up and folded her arms across her chest, looking smug.
Umbridge stared at them in cold fury, her bulging eyes narrowed and her wide mouth twisted. "Very well," she said slowly, her voice barely controlled. "I will have to rely on a different approach, it seems." Suddenly her hand whipped up from behind the desk, this time holding a wand. Harry, whose hand had been edging toward his pocket, grabbed for his own wand but Umbridge had him beat. "Expelliarmus!" she shrieked, and Harry's wand flew from his hand into a far corner.
Hermione's hand was in her robe but Umbridge had leaped to her feet, surprisingly fast for such a stout woman; her wand was pointed squarely at Hermione's face. "Carefully," she said with an air of triumph. "Bring it out slowly, very slowly. Now throw it over in the corner. Weasley, you too," she gestured at Ron, who took out his own wand gingerly and tossed it over with Harry and Hermione's.
"Very clever, Granger," Umbridge said, almost grudgingly. "You obviously did your homework. I thought for a moment I would have an easy time of it until you stopped Potter from drawing his wand on me. Now, though, it's almost as simple: You three, enraged because Potter was found guilty of the charges against him, drew your wands on me. I was forced to defend myself and you all broke down, realizing your error and threw yourself on the mercy of the court."
"You're barking," Ron snarled.
"You can't make that stick," Hermione put in. "You'd have to –" A horrifying thought occurred to her. "You wouldn't," she breathed. "You twisted, evil woman—!"
"Careful, little Miss Know-it-All," Umbridge hissed. "Or my Obliviate spell may make you forget more than just the last 30 minutes. You may end up in St. Mungo's as a permanent guest there."
"You evil old bat!" Ron spat. "You wouldn't dare!" Harry turned toward Ron and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Would you like to try me, boy?" Umbridge sneered, waving her wand at Ron, who glared back at her while Harry kept his hand on his shoulder, seemingly to hold him back.
But Harry had turned toward Ron for a reason; his hand was in his robe's wand pocket, he took hold of the wand there and thought Adicio to himself, hoping mightily for, then feeling it vibrate. They had a chance! Umbridge didn't' know his wand was in his hand. A Stunner Spell –
But at that moment the door burst open and Rufus Scrimgeour, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mr. Weasley appeared, followed closely behind by Mrs. Weasley. "Umbridge!" Scrimgeour roared, outraged. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?!"
Umbridge froze, her wand pointing somewhere between Harry and Hermione. "Minister!" she breathed. "You're back! I –" she looked about wildly, trying to decide what to do. "These three students – they barged into my – I mean to say, your – office and…"
"Quiet!" Scrimgeour ordered. "Drop your wand!" Umbridge fell silent but did not release her wand. "Step out of the way," he ordered the three teens.
"NO!" Umbridge shrieked. "They were about to attack me!" she gibbered, gesturing wildly with her wand.
"With what?" Scrimgeour said grimly. "You're the only one with a wand in your hand." Harry had taken his hand from his pocket, leaving his own wand inside.
"Ms. Umbridge," Shacklebolt said in his slow, deep voice, his wand also pointed at her over the heads of Harry, Ron and Hermione. "We've been listening in the hallway for the past five minutes. Elders Tabitha Skuld and Verdani Norncombe of the Wizengamot alerted us some time ago that you might be conducting a hearing this afternoon, based on statements made by these Hogwarts students this morning in Diagon Alley."
"A hearing I specifically told you to cancel," Scrimgeour added. "We collected enough evidence after Greyback's death to know there's more than enough to conclude that overage wizards had performed the magic detected at Potter's residence on the day in question."
Umbridge stared at them, her eyes darting back and forth like a trapped animal. "No," she said slowly. "No – that's not true, Minister! Your men were deceived – they had to be! These three are the ringleaders of a subversive group that intends to destroy the Ministry!" Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other in confusion. "Oh, don't play stupid!" she spat at them. "You're still working for your precious headmaster, Dumbledore!"
Scrimgeour sighed heavily. "Dumbledore is dead, Dolores."
"And you believe that, do you?" Umbridge said shrilly. "If only we could be sure!" She gestured with her wand at Harry, and four wands poised to strike at the least indication of a spell, but she merely gibbered on. "You know this one hiding something from you! Don't you, Rufus? Or are you so blind to what's been going on these last months, all over the country?"
"I am all too aware of what's been going on, Dolores," Scrimgeour said slowly. Dumbledore's death last month was just the capper to a steady advance of You-Know-Who's power base."
"And these three know what's going on!" Umbridge screeched, stamping her foot as if she were about to throw a tantrum. "They've been planning something for months!"
"There is no evidence of that!" Scrimgeour said forcefully, then tried to rein himself back and mollify Umbridge. "Dolores, if you have something to show us, put down your wand and let's see it. You know I am willing to listen."
Umbridge looked at her situation: four wands to her one, outnumbered seven to one, including the teens before her, and everyone blocking her only exit: she immediately lowered her wand. Shacklebolt gestured to someone outside the door and two Aurors pushed their way around the Weasleys, moved Harry, Ron and Hermione out of the way, and hustled Umbridge out the door. Only when she was gone did Scrimgeour, Shacklebolt and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley relax.
"I must apologize," Scrimgeour said to the three of them, sounding uncharacteristically contrite. "I had ordered her to handle the dismissal of the charges against you, Mr. Potter; once we learned that Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley were there, it was obvious the case had no merit. Apparently Ms. Umbridge was following her own agenda."
He turned to Shacklebolt. "Have their statements taken while I write out the dismissal of the charges against them."
"Dismissal?" Hermione said, surprised. "All three of us?"
"Yes," Scrimgeour said, looking at her evenly. "We followed up after you left Little Whinging on the Knight Bus; the situation was contained, and the spells you used minimized Muggle knowledge of wizarding folk. Most of the knowledge they had was from Harry's Muggle cousin, and we wiped the knowledge he spread and … impressed … upon him the need to maintain secrecy of the wizarding world." Scrimgeour smiled humorlessly. "I believe he will say nothing more to his friends about wizards. Ever. Now excuse me while I attend to Ms. Umbridge." And Scrimgeour swept from the room, leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione with the Weasleys and Shacklebolt, who all stared at each other.