Broken Justice Part I
April 29th, 1985
Bonn:
With his tie tightly fastened around his neck, Hans struggled to stay awake, resisting both the encroaching sleepiness and the stifling heat in the room. His head rested lazily on his fist as he absentmindedly gazed out the window, while a diplomat delivered his report. Finally, he straightened up in his chair, feeling the weight of Benjamin Acker's accusatory stare. Benjamin himself was seated a little further away, positioned between two senior counter-terrorism agents.
Unsurprisingly, the Warsaw Pact had been renewed for the next twenty years, perpetuating the familiar atmosphere of intimidation. Simultaneously, in Albania, Ramiz Alia had chosen to continue his predecessor's policy of extreme autarky, plunging his people even deeper into poverty. As a bead of sweat slid down his forehead, Hans longed for the power of a wizard, hoping to somehow manipulate time and expedite his escape from the torturous meeting room. Nevertheless, it was already an extraordinary feat that he had managed to suppress a loud yawn, resisting the urge to hang himself in front of his audience.
As Benjamin's turn to speak arrived, Hans snapped out of his daydreaming state. Benjamin took the floor to discuss the security measures intended for hosting the upcoming G7 summit scheduled to take place in Bonn the following month.
After what felt like an eternity, the meeting finally concluded shortly before lunchtime. The room swiftly emptied, leaving Hans and Benjamin Acker as the only ones remaining. They sat at opposite ends of the table, silently locking eyes, both seemingly evaluating the other. The weight of the silence lingered until Benjamin eventually broke it.
"Do you want to grab some lunch?" Benjamin inquired.
"Of course," Hans responded with a nod.
They exited the building, walking in silence side by side along the banks of the Rhine. After approximately fifteen minutes, they reached an isolated bench where they sat and eat their dürüms. As they ate their food, their gaze fixated on the flowing river, animated by the passage of a leisurely sightseeing tourist boat. Finally, Benjamin initiated the conversation.
"Alexa got me addicted to these..." Benjamin remarked, using a paper napkin to clean the corner of his mouth. "Anyway, you have dark circles under your eyes. You should work less and spend more time with your girlfriend," he suggested.
"I wish I could... But my mind is preoccupied right now," Hans replied, taking a sip from his can of Sprite.
"Congratulations on your promotion," Benjamin acknowledged, observing a bird flying near the water.
"Thank you... and for arranging the transfer as well," Hans expressed his gratitude.
"Of course. Considering your background, it only made sense to..." Benjamin began.
"To ensure that I am constantly monitored and kept far away from Alexa," Hans finished his sentence with a chuckle.
"I have to prioritize her," Benjamin admitted. "Even if she's still upset with me about it... But I suppose witches eventually grow up too. She'll understand."
"How is she doing?" Hans inquired.
"Like a thirteen-year-old teenager slowly realizing her father is just an ordinary man, not a superhero," Benjamin responded, finishing his dürüm and opening his soda can. "She's becoming more difficult to handle... She's angry, very angry, and it seems that neither Lea nor I can soothe her. Especially after we received the news..."
"What news?" Hans asked, struggling to swallow before taking a sip to ease his discomfort.
Benjamin turned his head towards him, surprised. "Haven't you heard?"
Hans shook his head, prompting Benjamin to reach into his briefcase and pull out a newspaper, placing it on Hans' lap. Hans took the paper, and his eyes widened as his hands clenched tightly around it. He read the headline and saw the face of the man on the front page.
April 30, 1985
Ministry of Magic, London:
Kingsley leaned casually against the wall, stifling a yawn as his gaze swept over the deserted Auror office before him. The entire team had already departed for the dungeons, where an event of unparalleled significance in the magical realm—arguably rivaling even the historic trial of Grindelwald and his loyalists—was scheduled to commence in a mere twenty minutes.
Kingsley firmly believed that Millicent Bagnold, the imminent retiree from the prestigious position of Minister of Magic, possessed a comprehensive grasp of the intricacies involved in the case. With unwavering determination, she had marshaled the full might of the Ministry, leaving no stone unturned, to guarantee that the trial would be conducted prior to the forthcoming election year, which remained uncertain due to the potential non-participation of several wizards and witches seeking re-election.
That very rationale led her to appoint Bartemius Crouch as the esteemed chief judge presiding over the trial, with the able assistance of Albus Dumbledore in his esteemed roles as the chief warlock and supreme mugwump, not to mention her own involvement. Observing Jon Dawlish storm out of his office and forcefully slam the door shut, Kingsley finally relinquished his position against the wall, as the other Auror hastened towards the entrance of the office to meet him.
« Sorry for the wait, shall we go?" Dawlish asked.
"Yeah…Let's hurry up before they seal the gates" Kingsley said before they walked away.
Kingsley replied, prompting them to depart. The offices they passed were vacant, with only a few scattered notes fluttering through the corridors, a marked difference from the usual bustling activity at that time of day. They encountered very few individuals until they reached a queue forming in front of the lifts that would transport them to the ninth level—a domain besieged by the Wizengamot and reserved for criminal trials. Patiently awaiting their turn, they eventually boarded an empty lift that descended swiftly.
"I still can't believe anyone could withstand long enough to get to punch him" Kingsley replied.
"Yeah, there is that too... I heard the guy beat him up bad before the Aurors arrived" Dawlish said.
"He certainly did, and that was just the beginning of a long day. I had the pleasure of being in the interrogation room. Imagine waking up and the first thing you see is Moody's fierce glare, his magical eye fixed upon you," Kingsley shared, as the lift doors opened, granting them passage. They proceeded along a hallway teeming with wizards and witches eagerly awaiting the commencement of the trial.
They made their way toward the other Aurors who had gathered near the gates, scanning for anyone seeking entry into the courtroom. Kingsley and Dawlish passed through the gates and proceeded to the stands, where they took seats next to Moody. A few minutes later, the stands designated for the general audience began to fill up, and everyone rose to their feet as the entire Wizengamot entered to assume their positions.
Kingsley surveyed the audience and recognized the heads of all the departments and senior employees, along with some foreign diplomats he had protected during his early years as an Auror. He also noticed the heads of the oldest wizarding houses, as well as other influential figures from the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth. The press had assembled at the lowest tier of stands, adjusting their equipment in preparation for the proceedings. To his surprise, Kingsley also spotted about twenty anxious young wizards and witches dressed in their Hogwarts uniforms.
"The seventh-year students expected to secure a position in the Ministry upon completing their NEWTs," Moody remarked, as though he had divined Kingsley's thoughts.
"Unusual, but yet Interesting" Kingsley replied, glancing once more at the stands. "I see Arthur Weasley and his wife... She seems livid."
"Wouldn't you feel the same way if you were about to witness the trial of your brother's killer?" Moody inquired.
Kingsley shifted his gaze to the right, where he noticed Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy, who haughtily dismissed a woman's attempt at greeting before returning to her seat beside Ted Tonks. His attention then returned to Lucius Malfoy, who appeared unusually pale, seated alongside Goyle and Crabbe, engaged in conversation with Selwing.
"There's something fishy going on over there..." Kingsley whispered to Moody, discreetly nodding in the direction of the four men.
"Don't mind them. Take a look at who's sitting in the highest row, instead" Moody remarked.
Kingsley glanced upward, his eyes widening in surprise, before quickly averting his gaze to avoid drawing the attention of the man seated between Lord Abraxas Malfoy and Lord Theodore Nott II.
"Bloody hell... Is that who I think it is?" Kingsley whispered to Moody.
"Yes, that's Lord Orion Black. Sirius Black's father and, until his resignation two years ago, the leader of the conservatives in the Wizengamot," Moody explained, his magical eye scanning the area behind him where Lord Black sat.
"Do you think he's here to influence the verdict? He likely still holds some sway among the conservatives... Maybe even some influence on the other side," Kingsley speculated quietly.
Alastor Moody growled in response. "He can always try. Shut up now, it's about to start," he instructed, just as the courtroom rose to its feet upon the entrance of Albus Dumbledore, Bartemius Crouch, and Millicent Bagnold, the Minister for Magic. They proceeded in a line toward their designated stands.
The three judges exchanged whispers among themselves for a few moments, making notes, before Bartemius Crouch employed his gavel to hush the last lingering murmurs in the room, signaling the beginning of the trial. Standing up, he was followed by the other two judges and the remaining members of the Wizengamot. Clearing his throat, Crouch addressed Auror Rufus Scrimgeour, who stood beside the imposing gate, and declared, "The court is now ready; bring him in."
Scrimgeour exited the courtroom and returned a few minutes later, leading the prisoner whose arms and feet were heavily shackled. With reddened eyes, the accused briefly cast a dark gaze upon the audience before diverting his attention to the floor. Two senior Aurors accompanied him, guiding him to the iron chair positioned in front of the semicircular stands. The relentless barrage of camera flashes from the press intensified, accompanying the audible outpour of curses from the onlookers.
The Aurors assigned to the trial swiftly formed a human chain, facing the stands with their wands poised, dissuading individuals like Lady Longbottom who dared to descend from the stands and approach the accused. Minerva McGonagall promptly pulled Lady Longbottom back to her seat, averting a potential disruption.
Crouch utilized his gavel once again to restore order. Standing up, he peered down at the enclosed cage surrounding the accused, adding more chains for added security. With a stern voice that reverberated in their ears, he pronounced:
"The Department of Magical Law and Justice, in conjunction with the Auror Office, has brought forth the following charges against you:
Collaborating with the self-proclaimed 'Lord Voldemort,' commonly known as the Dark Lord. Providing crucial information to the aforementioned wizard in his attempt to assassinate Harry Potter. Disclosing the secret whereabouts of James Potter, the First, and Lily J. Potter to the Dark Wizard, resulting in their murder. The murder of thirteen Muggles, including two minors. Accused of being a fugitive from the Ministry of Magic, the Department of Magical Law and Justice. Conspiring against the Ministry of Magic and the British magical community. Accused of involvement in the murders of Fabian and Gideon Prewett. Failure to register as an Animagus, exploiting this ability to evade this court and elude justice.How do you plead, Peter Pettigrew?"