"What d'you reckon?"
"So—you mean—"
"I think he'd say 'She's dead.'"
Ron, Harry, and Hermione were talking before going to bed. They worked for cleaning this house all day, and at last they could talk together after dinner, never to let either Molly or Sirius overhear.
Ron and Harry were quite surprised that Hermione's words didn't sound reservedly.
"His fiancée is really dead?" said Ron in lower voice.
"Don't you both remember what Fudge spoke, indeed?" said Hermione. "I've just remembered we've all heard of her!"
"What? When—?" asked Harry. He had no idea.
"When you came to Hogsmeade without permission, two years ago," replied Hermione. "In the Three Broomsticks. Fudge was there talking about her. "
It seemed that both Ron and Harry had remembered what Hermione was saying at last. Cornelius Fudge visited the Three Broomsticks on the last weekend before Christmas two years ago. And then Harry knew Sirius was his father's close friend and his godfather.
"Poor thing, I couldn't even talk to her—you remember who Black's fiancée was—?"
"The only survivor of the Manes' tragedy, isn't she, Minister? Arielle Mane and Sirius Black—I thought as if they'd made for each other!"
"Yes, Rosmerta, m'dear. She became an Auror—brave, outstanding, tough one... It was I who asked her to help—I have no excuse—she was going to take her own fiancée... She looked as though she'd lost any hope. Absolutely. She lost most of her family at eleven—and what's worse, her fiancé had stayed in touch with You-Know-Who—"
"Yeah, Fudge said she took Sirius, didn't he?" said Harry. "And he said—"
"After Black escaped from Azkaban, we searched the house they'd live together—they were going to marry in the next weekend... I was invited too to the wedding... because I'd known her dad for years—"
"Witch Weekly said they were getting the booked pair of rings on that day..."
"Yes... Anyway, it seemed all the furniture left there... And, she engraved message on the wooden front door—'I'm going far away, always waiting for you, love, Arielle.' She hinted—"
"He said—'She hinted she might kill herself,'" gasped Ron with fear. "So did Sirius go to the house saw the note, eh?"
"I think he didn't," said Hermione. "He headed for Hogwarts straight to catch Wormtail! And—would she really kill herself? A brave, outstanding, tough Auror would commit suicide?" Hermione knitted her eyebrows. "Does it mean she'd be waiting for Sirius in the other world?"
"Most of her family was murdered," said Harry, doubtfully too. "Even if she failed to find her fiancé out— was it all her fault?"
"It's too much to take blame by dying," said Ron. "Sounds fishy, doesn't it?"
"You three, stop talking," Molly was coming to check them, but they hadn't noticed. "Bed, soon!"
On the morning of twelfth August, Arielle Mane woke up alive in one room of the inn of Leaky Calderon. She'd stayed in London for nearly two weeks, but never tried to find where to live—she'd somehow felt she didn't want to, quite satisfied with staying there—it was enough pleasant for her to speak or hear her mother tongue English from day to night. She sipped oatmeal for breakfast, quickly prepared for work, and at seven, she left for Ministry of Magic by Apparition.
The previous day, she'd gotten surrounded by some reporters for Daily Prophet waiting for her as soon as she arrived there. Arielle's transfer had just been announced; they'd been eager to interview Arielle Mane, who returned as an Auror again. And, what's more, she'd been designated to a new member of Wizengamot, filling a vacancy created by Albus Dumbledore's resignation. It was very incomprehensible for her, and then she remembered her transfer had been long told as a mysterious affair for years.
"I'm so glad to have returned to Britain," answered Arielle briefly to their questions. "An Auror—it's the job I chose at age of sixteen."
"Are you going to hunt Sirius Black, who was your fiancé?" Impertinently, reporters for Witch Weekly asked Arielle. The staff of the Ministry, probably some of Fudge's assistants tried to take Arielle, but she also answered their questions briefly, too.
Today, luckily, nobody was waiting for her (but she thought they'd come later again, after their readers make some response to the articles about her.) Arielle walked straight to Auror Office. She'd brought her belongings yesterday but hadn't tidied yet.
"Morning, Arielle," said a slow, deep voice. It was a tall, black wizard named Kingsley Shacklebolt, who'd been Arielle's best colleague.
"Oh, good morning, Kingsley," said Arielle. "I did miss everyone at Auror Office, really."
"Again, I'm so glad that you returned as an Auror," said Kingsley. "Have you got your room here? I thought you'd returned few weeks before—"
"It took a bit more to return here, to Auror Office," replied Arielle in a low voice. "I—and Minister, too, had a problem with something... Anyway, I need to tidy my room..."
"I'll help you a bit, and I'd like words with you, too."
Arielle and Kingsley went into her room. Books, instruments, photos in frames, and a rolled tapestry— it seemed half of all her belongings were there. Arielle aimed her wand at the tapestry, then to the wall; it was now displayed on the wall. Kingsley walked to the wall and saw it. Arielle pointed a name on it; it was the family tree of the Manes.
"This is me," whispered Arielle, pointing at the bottom of the tapestry. Her name and birthday was embroidered with a golden thread on the very deep blue cloth. Kingsley gave a glance through the bottom of the family tree. He found more than two dozen people died on the same day.
"I'd like you to read this," Kingsley found about in the pocket of his robe and took out a small piece of parchment.
Dear Arielle,
Kingsley told me you've been called back as an Auror. So glad to hear so.
I need words with you as soon as possible. If you're OK, I'd like to meet you at Hog's Head in Hogsmeade tomorrow evening. If not, tell so to Kingsley. We can arrange again.
Best Regards,
Alastor Moody
"Could you tell him 'OK'?" whispered Arielle, though she wasn't know sure whether she was free tomorrow evening; she just liked to meet 'Mad-Eye' Moody, one of the people she'd missed for years. Kingsley just nodded, and began to help her with tidying her room.
Arielle wondered what Mad-Eye was telling her. Does he really know the real reason Fudge had called me back?—she thought she'd be on the right track. If so, he was trying to warn her. Actually, she was vaguely aware of something unnatural. Dumbledore's resignation, her own transfer, and Fudge's behaviour towards her—basically, he was indulgent to her—but when Arielle surely told him about the Dementors' attack against two boys a week ago, he almost ignored her report.
As they finished tidying her room, all her books were put onto an old bookshelf, her Cleansweep Six leaned against the wall, and the wall was papered with the posters of her favourite Quidditch Team, Toyohashi Tengu and Falmouth Falcons. The family tree tapestry was next to the posters on the wall, closer to her desk. And next to it, an old front page of Daily Prophet was put up—"BIRTHDAY PARTY TRAGEDY: Twenty-Eight Manes Found Murdered; Youngest Daughter Survived."
Arielle put a gold photo frame onto her desk and opened a small wardrobe.
"Wizengamot is convened?" He asked her dubiously from behind. He saw her taking out a plum-coloured robe.
"Yes, but I don't know what the case is—" Arielle lowered her voice. "Fudge suddenly decided to convene us. He hasn't told us a lot about it..." She shrugged her shoulders. "Anyway, thanks a lot, Kingsley. I need to change my robe."
Twenty minutes to eight, she had already worn the plum-coloured robe embroidered with a silver letter W to attend a disciplinary hearing as a member of Wizengamot. Then she heard someone knocking the wall of her room.
"Arielle, I'd like to introduce Arthur Weasley to you." Arielle heard Kingsley's voice.
"Please come in." She stood up putting the latest Daily Prophet she was reading onto her desk.
Arthur Weasley was a red-haired, balding wizard. And next to him—Arielle felt her heart beat faster—there was a boy with untidy jet-black hair and green, almond-shaped eyes. As he was wearing round-rimmed glasses, he just looked like one of her late friends.
"Weasley, this is the Auror recently called back from Japan, Arielle Mane. Yes, you know, she is the famous Mane. She's also hunting for Sirius Black as you guess... Arielle, this is Arthur Weasley, Head of Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. I've asked him for information on his old motorbike—"
Arielle and Arthur shook their hands. And she saw the boy next to him.
"Oh, Mr Potter, nice to meet you again," said Arielle. She got thrilled to her own godson's face and cracked a smile.
"Er—n—nice to meet you, too, M—Madam Mane."
Arielle and Harry also shook their hands. She was a little perplexed because he seemed to get so amazed to see her. She just thought she might have squeezed his hands too much. Then, something on his chest attracted her attention. "Harry Potter, Disciplinary Hearing"—Never, thought Arielle. Can he really commit a crime? She got confused just as when she saw her fiancé have killed a dozen people. Maybe—she opened her eyes wide—is he going to be tried by the full court?
"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth August, into offences committed—"
As Arielle heard Fudge's voice ringing, she was pondering what was happening to her godson, Harry, and what Cornelius Fudge was doing. According to their brief conversation, Fudge seemed to send an owl to Harry to tell the time had been changed just before Wizengamot gathered at Courtroom Ten—so he should have been late.
"—under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery—"
Wait–Arielle muttered to herself, looking at Fudge's back. She was sitting behind the three interrogators: Amelia Bones, Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, and Fudge himself. She remembered what happened to her on the night of the second August, when heading for the Ministry by her broomstick. The silver stag was his. Is he charged for conjuring a Patronus?
"Witness for the defence, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." Arielle felt again her heart beat faster. He was one of people she'd missed, too. But Dumbledore didn't smile as he used to or she'd known. He looked just calm, striding serenely across the room.
Arielle was at a loss for a moment whether to stand up as witness for the defence, but she decided not to do yet. Somehow, she was now sure that Harry was being in a great trouble and Fudge was plotting someone's downfall: Dumbledore's or Harry's, or, of both of them.
Actually Harry had another witness; Arabella Doreen Figg was a Squib living close to where Harry lives. She should have been the person she'd heard approach when she helped Harry with her own Patronus.
Mrs Figg was allowed to go and the door was shut with a thud. Fudge opened his mouth.
"Not a very convincing witness," said Fudge in a lofty voice.
"There was another witch—" Harry opened his mouth. "She conjured a Patronus and saved me and my cousin!" He raised his voice. "Her Patronus was a dog! She came by a broomstick!"
"A witch?" said Fudge with contempt. "A witch just happening to pass by and come across Dementors? In a Muggle suburb?"
Arielle felt herself suddenly filled with anger unknowingly to hear his words. I did told you—thought Arielle. And she thought it's time to cry out.
She closed her eyes, and pictured his grey eyes for a moment.
"Expecto Patronum!"
This time, too, she saw a silver dog running onto the floor from the bench. The silver dog stood by the seat of the accused. All eyes were now on where the dog came from. Arielle stood up and snap her fingers. She didn't wear the plum-coloured robe anymore; she was now wearing a deep-blue robe like her eyes. She stepped down from the bench elegantly to stand by her Patronus. She turned behind and looked up Fudge.
"It was me," said Arielle calmly. "—who conjured the silver dog he mentioned." The members of Wizengamot suddenly began whispering. "As I told you on the night, sir. I did told you I'd encountered at least two Dementors."
Arielle managed to hide her anger against Fudge. She didn't know how provoking it was that Fudge had ignored her report. She tried to continue just calmly and quietly.
Fudge completely got amazed; his eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped. On the right side of him, Dolores Umbridge was blinking three times as many as she usually did.
"Then, boy," said Amelia Bones, in a booming voice. "Is this Patronus what you saw?"
"Yes," said Harry. Then, Madam Bones turned to Arielle. Before she opened her mouth, Arielle said clearly to the bench.
"I'd like to witness for the accused—"
"Full name?" said Fudge. He now managed to compose himself.
"Arielle Eileen Mane," replied Arielle calmly, looking him up straight. She was sitting on a simple, wooden chair she conjured by a flick of her wand, and put her fingertips together on her lap.
"Begin."
"On the night of the second August," said Arielle in a slow, but clear voice. "—I was heading for the Ministry to confer with you, Minister, as you'd requested with an owl I received the previous night at the inn near Orleans."
"Yes, I did." His voice sounded much calmer, though he looked unsatisfied. "I sent you a letter and soon received affirmation."
"On the way to London, I saw something strange—at first, I thought black bags blown by the wind—"
Arielle was now closing her eyes as though imagining what she saw again on the inside of her eyelids.
"As I approach them, I realised they weren't. I smelled rotten and h—heard—the sound. The sound of rattling breaths, you know." Her voice became trembling.
"I felt—as though all happiness had gone. E—everything went cold, chilly, and all the lights died. I remembered terrible things—when my family was killed, when I was dying, when I took my own fiancé..."
Arielle opened her eyes and looked up Fudge on the bench. Her eyes looked as though protuberant; tears sprang to them. Now her hands were strangely twitching.
"W—what the Dementors did?" Even Madam Bones seemed to lose her calmness.
"I conjured a Patronus, yes, this silver dog. Dementors passed by and headed for somewhere as if they'd ordered to do so. I completely forgot where I was—I flew after them. When I overtook them, they were attacking two boys in an alleyway. I've just known in this court the two boys were Harry Potter and his cousin—Harry was moving back to run, b—but—his cousin was... nearly... k—'kissed'..."
The last words made several members, including Fudge, hold their breaths for a moment. Even Harry knitted his eyebrows.
"Harry tried twice but only a silver smoke drifted. I yelled to my Patronus—then he did conjure a silver stag, and his and mine threw them away together. And I sped up my broomstick to report this to you, Minister."
"... And you told me," said Fudge curtly.
"Yes, sir." She gave a cold reply, too.
"Those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?" As the whispering of Wizengamot stopped, Madam Bones said in a booming voice. More than half of them, including Amelia Bones, raised their hands in the air—Arielle got satisfied to see that, and slightly smiled.
"And those in favour of conviction?" Fudge, Umbridge, and other several wizards and witches did. As she saw Fudge did, her doubt changed to a conviction; he was trying to discredit both Harry and Dumbledore.
"... Cleared all charges," said Fudge never to see Arielle's face. She touched the wooden chair to disappear it, and left the courtroom with her long thick hair blown like a lion's mane. The silver dog ran after and got ahead of her to escort.
"What will Mad-Eye tell me tomorrow?"
Arielle murmured to herself with excitement, looking forward to meeting him three times as much as before the hearing.
She didn't know yet—that her fiancé was no more a Death Eater than she was.
