Chapter Sixteen: In Which There is a Confrontation Between Old Enemies
"Why would Eve come now, of all times?" Tairi asks. She, Scorpius, and Vulpecula are enjoying a rare moment of privacy in the Slytherin Common Room. Tairi is so tired she has yet to write to Mother and Father, although she has been inundated with owls from home since the tragedy.
Mother wants to know if there's anything she can do, and keeps sending food, as though afraid her children will starve, like the house-elves will suddenly stop feeding them. Father expresses terse sympathy, letters awkward and stilted as though he can't quite believe he's writing this. Grammy Cissy just writes that her Floo is always open, if they need to get away, and there hasn't been any word at all from Grandfather, which Tairi thinks is just as well. She's not sure she could stand another argument about how the Potters are an affront to all of decent pureblood society, or another thinly veiled house-elf diatribe.
Still, Tairi supposes she'll have to write home soon and ask about Eve—why now? It seems tactless.
"Uncle Etienne and Father have been talking about it for ages," Vulpecula shrugs. "I guess the plan was all set."
"I guess," says Tairi doubtfully. "Is she doing okay? Settling in, and all? I feel like I should be babysitting her."
"Why?" asks Scorpius. "If there's one thing all this has done for us, it's kept the Gryffindors quiet. No more hexing in the halls. Too little too late."
"Eve's okay," Vulpecula says softly. "Don't worry, Tairi."
Tairi nods, not feeling up to shepherding Eve around anyway. "Hear about the Gryffindor Confessions? 'S what they're calling it, now," she says, for lack of anything better to say. She can't bear to think of Lily. It's never been this hard to talk to her siblings before, not even the time she got into that argument with Grandfather about the merits of Muggle music, or when Scorp said he wanted to grow up and be an Auror just like Harry Potter, the Amazing One, or when Vulpecula got Sorted into Gryffindor…
"Gryffindors, confessing," Scorpius says. "About bloody time. Lying, murdering hypocrites, the lot of them. And they call us evil." He stares into the fireplace, not understanding how it can be that this time, Lily is the one to suffer for the combined sins of all Slytherins since the beginning of time. Somehow, Scorp has gotten rather used to that particular burden of blame.
Vulpecula doesn't say anything at all.
"Impedimenta!" Harry shouts, pointing his wand at the one person he hates most in all the world. He's found Umbridge.
She conjures a shield, tripping slightly on her own feet, her ugly toadlike face pale with fear.
To hell with this, thinks Harry. "Crucio!"
Umbridge doesn't get out the way fast enough, this time, and her screams fill the Wizengamot's lofty chamber. The members sit transfixed on their benches, staring.
"Arrest him!" breathes one wide-eyed wizard, shrinking back as far as he can without falling over.
"Are you insane, that's Harry Potter!" the witch next to him hisses back. "Arresting him would be like arresting Godric Gryffindor himself!"
"You mean impossible?" the young wizard on the other side of her says dryly.
An extremely old wizard, who can neither hear nor see very well anymore, bangs a gavel on the bench beside him (the witch next to him scoots over so far she falls into the lap of the wizard behind her, and thus is a promising romance born), and says loudly, "Come on, now, people, we haven't got all day. Let's settle the matter of replacing the benches with more comfortable armchairs, like young Albus Dumbledore used to favor, and then we can all go home!"
"Uncle Harry!" Teddy Lupin exclaims, racing in and waving his arms frantically. "Don't do it!"
Behind him, Ron and Hermione Weasley run forward, and behind them, Molly Weasley nearly trips on her apron (advancing years have made her shrink), and behind her, a few Healers slink in and try to look unobtrusive.
"Crucio!" Harry yells again, and in the ranks of the Wizengamot, many shake their heads and try to look like they know what to do in this situation. The few members who are thinking ahead moan things like, "Never, in all my days…" and "Remember when he killed the Dark Lord with Expelliarmus? Are we thinking vacation?" and "Maybe this whole Abolition thing wasn't the best idea we've ever had…"
"Harry, no!" Ron shouts. "Bloody hell!" And he grabs one of Harry's arms, forcing him backward.
Hermione grabs the other, yelling, "Harry, please! Don't leave James and Albus without their father! I have the evidence, she's going to Azkaban for a century at least!"
Teddy Lupin sends a quick Stunning Spell at Umbridge, who is much too drained to even attempt to block it. She collapses to the floor, and a few brave souls in the Wizengamot breathe sighs of relief.
Everyone else waits to see if it's really over before getting all thrilled.
The Healers rush forward to examine Umbridge; Molly Weasley strides over and looks down at her with disgust. "If I were twenty years younger, I'd take you out myself, bitch."
The Healers look like they want to back away, but are worried about drawing attention to themselves.
"SHE KILLED LILY! I'LL KILL HER!" Harry is shouting, but Hermione has managed to wrest his wand from his fingers.
"In front of the entire Wizengamot?" Ron says, trying to inject some practicality into the proceedings. "Harry, mate, even you might not be able to get out of that one."
"Please, Uncle Harry, this isn't the way," Teddy says, staring at him.
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Harry screams at them. "THIS WOMAN TORTURED ME FOR MONTHS! I STILL HAVE THE SCARS! THEN SHE SENT MUGGLEBORNS TO AZKABAN WHEN VOLDEMORT CONTROLLED THE MINISTRY! INNOCENT PEOPLE! AND NOW SHE'S MURDERED MY DAUGHTER! HOW CAN YOU STAND THERE AND TELL ME—no," he whispered, falling to his knees. "Lily is not gone! It can't be true!"
"I hope you lot bloody well realize this would never have happened if Lily was safe in her own dorm, not being constantly hexed by Gryffindors who weakened her defenses—as in, if Slytherin House hadn't been abolished," Teddy says bitterly, looking up at the Wizengamot.
"We do, my dear boy," says Edward du Winters, speaking for them all. "We do indeed."
"That's odd," Healer Pye says a few minutes later, having ignored the drama being played out around him. He's examining Dolores Umbridge's medical information. "It looks as though someone has been giving this woman liberal amounts of essence of belladonna—over a couple of days like that, it's going to be hard to revive her."
"We'll begin at once, Healer Pye," says Apprentice Healer Megworth.
"Yes, yes, of course," Healer Pye says, still looking bewildered. "I wonder how she ingested so much."
Unobserved in the shadows of the vaulting room, Ginny Potter looks at her companion, Narcissa Malfoy, with a certain grim triumph. Let Harry mess about with Unforgiveable Curses in view of the entire Wizengamot; lately, Ginny has been getting in touch with her Slytherin side.