On the 16th of April at 12 pm ET - Eastern Summer Time (New York Time): We will be having our first recording of The Delicate Art of Raising Thestrals read by Sam Gabriel. Due to the kindness of many, by next week we will have two chapters up on podcasts.
I look forward to meeting you at the recording tomorrow at discord dot gg / BNMEXM9RBB
oOo
Thank you Sakkiko!
Chapter 20 - White Light
Albus left Harry in the tender care of Poppy in the hospital wing. Harry would not be taking the Hogwarts Express to the Weasleys in the morning.
Albus would personally be escorting Harry to the Weasleys for an alibi and then to Malcolm's. Minerva had already confirmed she would be taking a holiday for the first time in what must have been decades.
Ribbit.
"What is that?" Minerva asked.
Albus pulled the cage from his pocket.
Ribbit.
Dolores made eye contact with Minerva, and Albus saw the exact moment Minerva recognised the pink toad, and the exact moment Minerva realised her opportunity for revenge.
"This is—" Albus began.
"I know who it is," Minerva cut him off, snatching the cage out of his hand. "Mr. Longbottom's familiar has escaped again."
Albus hid a smile as Minerva began gesturing wildly, the cage swinging in her hand.
"I'm telling you, the boy is always losing this thing. And he turned it pink. What a horrible, garish colour for a toad," she said, giving the cage a truly vicious shake. "Honestly, Albus, look at this poor thing! I should feed it to one of the snakes in my NEWTs level transfiguration classes to put it out of its misery." She punctuated this statement with another shake, concussing the toad against the bars of her tiny prison.
"It's actually evidence against Cornelius," Albus said mildly.
Minerva harumphed as they walked through the halls and as they approached the stairs, she accidentally dropped the cage down the steps.
"Ribbeeeeeeet!" Dolores stretched as her cage bounced down the steps.
One of the staircases started to move, leaving an abyss before the descending cage.
The sound Dolores managed was rather fantastical.
"Huh, I hadn't realised frogs could scream," Minerva said.
Albus huffed and, at the last possible moment, summoned the cage back to his hand. "As I said, Minerva, this is evidence."
"Evidence of moronic behaviour?" Minerva asked; the look on her face was hostility personified.
Harry had come to much harm over the years, this was one of the few occasions the Gryfindors' mother lioness was in a position to act on her protective instincts.
The only reason Dolores was still alive at this point was because a life sentence to Azkaban was worse than death.
Severus came up an adjoining staircase with Pomona, while Filius joined them from the opposite hall.
"What is going on?" Pomona asked.
"Dolores had Harry arrested, he was taken off school grounds and subsequently tortured during interrogation. He's recovering with Poppy in the hospital wing now. Harry allowed me to borrow his memory of the night's events as testimony. Minerva and I will be returning to the Ministry, Minerva as Harry's magical guardian, and myself as a member of the Wizengamot."
"Weren't you removed from that position?" Severus asked.
Albus inclined his head, "I was, but I don't imagine that will stop my summons for a political trial of Cornelius Fudge."
"What of Dolores?" Filius asked.
Albus gave a shake of his hand, "We have her in hand."
Dolores gave a mournful ribbit, remaining slumped on the floor of her cage, her breathing laboured.
Filius's hand twitched as if he wished to throw a hex. But his voice remained cold and collected as he said, "The three of us shall ensure the students depart safely for the holidays and that those who remain are safe."
"I've contacted Bill Weasley, who has agreed to be our intermediate Defense Against the Dark Art professor," Albus said.
"Hallelujah," Minerva muttered.
Severus merely shook his head but kept his peace.
Fawkes appeared in a burst of flame above Albus's shoulder, temporarily parting from Harry's side.
The trill he gave was appropriately unhappy.
"We must go," Albus said.
"We have everything covered here," Pomona said, her round face severe.
Harry Potter wasn't a celebrity to them.
He was a student.
Their student who had been targeted by the Ministry.
oOo
Amelia Bones shouldn't have been as surprised as she was when Albus Dumbledore appeared, looking like fury incarnate, Minerva McGonagall no less intimating at his shoulder.
Albus had called for an emergency trial, several emergency trials, in fact.
Ordinarily, Amelia would have bristled at taking orders from anyone, much less someone who had been stripped of their positions.
However, she had had a child tortured in her department and she knew Albus would help them see justice served.
Aside from that, having an excuse to arrest Cornelius was nothing short of a delight.
It was a rare night that the Ministry was as lively at one o'clock in the morning as it was now.
Albus disappeared for a time, returning with another old man at his side who used a braced cane.
The man took a seat as Albus stepped forward on the marble floor, acting as Harry Potter's representative.
Cornelius sat in a bound chair, the two Aurors who had tortured Harry had already confessed to their crimes and working under Cornelius's orders. They had been stripped from their position and sentenced to five years in Azkaban.
The justice had been so swift, Cornelius knew how much trouble he was in. He and Dolores Umbridge would serve a minimum of five years.
Minimum.
"We're waiting on Dolores," Amelia said.
"Got her," Minerva called, tossing a small cage to Albus, who caught it and placed it on the floor.
It was a toad.
It was a pink toad.
Albus pulled out his wand and transfigured the toad into Dolores, the cage morphing into an armed chair, placing her cuffed beside her Minister.
She looked… unwell.
Her hair was teased out in every direction from whatever updo she had originally put it in. As if she had had a first-year attempt a drying spell on her.
Her pink cardigan was torn and her heels slipped off her feet as she struggled in the chair.
"I will have your head, Albus Dumbledore!" She raged, voice strained. "Do you hear me, I wi—"
"Quiet," the headmaster cut her off mid-syllable. "You will speak only when spoken to. This trial will determine how many years you spend in Azkaban, so I suggest you pull yourself together, lest you find that all shreds of your reputation dissolve around you."
Dolores seemed to all but swallow her tongue, her face turning hot with fury.
Amelia cleared her throat; the bowtruckle who had first alerted her to this mess sat on the edge of the desk, glowering down at everyone with what Amelia personally felt was well-earned superiority.
She caught the man Albus had brought with him smiling up at them when he spotted the ginkgo bowtruckle.
"Minister Cornelius Fudge and Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge, you are here today to be sentenced for kidnapping a minor, bypassing the authority of the Department of Law Enforcement, conspiring in a false arrest of said minor and condoning the physical and mental torture of one Harry James Potter.
"You have been found guilty, and will be sentenced as the Aurors who illegally carried out these fowl acts have been. The responsibility of this court is to determine the length of the sentence in accordance with the determined severity of your crimes.
"Additionally, given the rampant slander against Mr. Potter and Professor Dumbledore you both have partaken in for political gain, we shall also attempt, with what information we have, to clear up the issues that made it possible for anyone at all to think Mr. Potter capable of murdering Cedric Diggory which promoted his arrest on the night of the 23rd of December.
"Mr. Potter cannot be with us tonight due to the immediate medical care he required."
A ripple went through the court at that.
Albus stepped forward, "Our main testimony will be in memories perceived through an expanded pensive. Unspeakables employed by the ministry have confirmed these memories have not been tampered with."
"Lair!" Cornelius spat.
Kingsley hit the man with a silencing charm with such strength, Cornelius's chair was nearly tipped over.
"Shall we begin?" Albus asked.
Amelia nodded and Unspeakables stepped forward in their grey hooded robes, casting spell after spell over the pensive.
The first silver memory was corked and rather than needing to jump into the swirling portion, the room around them was engulfed in vision.
They sat in swirling mist.
The scenario started badly.
It was less an arrest and more of an ambush.
The Aurors had been hiding behind the door. Harry was able to stun one but the Auror who remained behind the door caught the fifth-year student with a Full Body-Bind Curse.
He hit the ground hard.
Amelia was glad that these two had been hired before her administration.
Dolores towered over the child, touching him with her foot.
Whatever Minerva and Albus had done to the toad hadn't been enough.
"You have escaped me all year, but not this time, Mr. Potter," she said in her sickly sweet voice.
The boy glared up at her, but his focus seemed to be facing inward.
The Auror he had stunned, now unfrozen by his friend, kicked Harry in the gut.
Amelia couldn't quite hold back her gasp as the large man stooped down to lift Harry up by the collar.
"You are under arrest, Mr. Potter."
Harry coughed before saying, "What for, being born?"
"Admittedly," Dolores said, damning herself in the eyes of everyone in the courtroom. "That would be enough, given who your father and godfather are, but no. You see, Mr. Potter, you've been found guilty of Cedric Diggory's death."
"I love your view of the legal system," Harry spat. "Conviction before a trial."
They manhandled the boy who began to struggle.
Then something changed, the boy's infamous scar given to him by the Killing Curse began to bleed and his body language changed from anger to pain.
Neither the Aurors nor Dolores paid this change any heed as they abducted the boy to the Ministry of Magic.
Harry seemed out of it until one of the Aurors began to force-feed him a vial of Veritaserum.
Harry was forced back into a chair that clamped shackles around his wrists and ankles like the ones Cornelius and Umbridge.
"No!" Harry yelled, turning his head away from the vial in front of his face.
The Auror's hand seemed absurdly large as he grabbed the boy by his jaw, prying his mouth open.
The child went eerily still as he was force-fed the liquid.
The Auror seemed proud of himself until Harry spat the serum back into his sneering face.
A gasp sounded around the smoke-filled room as Harry received a back-handed slap that rocked his entire chair backwards.
Harry was seized by the throat and another potion was jammed past his lips to the point where he nearly choked on it. Only this time, his mouth and nose were held shut until he was forced to swallow lest he choke and drown.
Again, the boy went still, the green of his eyes fading completely as his pupils dilated.
Amelia was appalled, they had overdone the dose.
"Where is Sirius Black?" the Auror who had force-fed him the potion asked.
"Fuck you," Harry spat.
Amelia smiled grimly. For all his reputation, it would seem Harry Potter was stronger than most prominent adults in their society.
"Where is James Potter?" the Auror asked.
"According to the papers, he's here," Harry drawled.
"Where is Sirius Black?" the Auror asked again.
"Behind the Veil."
The Veil? she wondered.
"Behind the Veil?" the Auror echoed. "Sirius Black?"
Harry curled in on himself, hindered by the restraints and whispered, "It's my fault."
"You killed Sirius Black?"
Amelia frowned.
The boy squeezed his eyes shut, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
This was one of the reasons you didn't overdo Veritaserum, it could force a person to reveal their fears, not their truth.
"Is he dead?" the man repeated.
Harry didn't answer for a long time, "This is confusing."
Amelia and Kingsley shared a glance as they saw the Bowtruckle that was still with them in the court room climb out of Harry's pocket.
"What are you talking about?" the Auror asked before threatening, "Start talking, Potter, or you'll regret it."
Harry looked up at the man and laughed.
"Why are you laughing?"
"This is absurd," Harry answered. "Is this even legal? I didn't do anything. When you realise Voldemort is behind this, you are going to grovel."
He was back-handed again, making him laugh harder.
"Where is Sirius Black!?" the man shouted.
"Not here."
"You little—" the man growled out. "Proud to be the spawn of evil, are you?"
"Spawn of evil? I'm not proud of your stupidity."
That line got a few wry chuckles from the crowd.
"Your father and godfather murdered people."
"It was Voldemort," Harry answered, then added loftily, "I'm not lying."
"How do you know it wasn't James Potter?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "My father didn't have his wand with him when he was buried, he didn't have his wand that night because Peter Pettigrew was the traitor, the Secret Keeper, and a literal rat."
Whispers broke out around the courtroom at this statement.
The Aurors from the memory-vision were oblivious.
"I didn't think you would be capable of resisting Veritaserum."
"I didn't think you could give it to someone without their consent or outside of a courtroom," Harry retorted, his body beginning to tremble.
"Accurate," someone in the crowd agreed.
"Peter Pettigrew was a hero," one of the Aurors said.
"No, he was the Secret Keeper," Harry snarled as the room began to spin as he was hit with vertigo. "They switched at the last moment and he cut off his own finger to make it look like he was a victim. He turned into an animagus, his true form, a rat. He lived with Percy Weasley and then my friend Ron. Pettigrew, Wormtail, is a disgusting excuse for a wizard."
Amelia took notes, this trial was going to rewrite the history books.
"Did you kill Cedric Diggory?"
"No, Peter Pettigrew did on Voldemort's orders."
Then something changed, Harry's eyes went wide and he began yelling and flailing against his restraints, "No, no!"
It was terrifying to watch, and Amelia was again reminded that this boy was the same age as Susan.
Harry's screams cut through the room and her heart.
Again, his scar began to bleed.
Which is when the wind tore from him, and frankly, tore into him.
For the second time, Amelia stood in the wind-torn room, only this time the sounds did not overwhelm her and she was able to keep her eyes open to see what had become of the boy at the heart of that storm.
He looked more afraid and hurt than any other person in that room had been.
The memory faded, the grey mist swallowing the scene before the room cleared.
The "discussion" among the lawmakers was immediate, loud and chaotic.
Amelia allowed it for a time.
Kingsley was shaking his head and unsaid between them passed the hope that Albus had brought more evidence to support Harry's claims.
She believed him, but it had been a near year of slander and even seeing the boy abused was not enough to see that he had been targeted.
Finally, when Amelia heard the term 'Obscurus' and 'Obscurial' used too frequently, she banged her gavel. The room quieted.
Cornelius and Dolores remained silent, both pale, knowing that no matter what was thought of Mr. Potter, they had clearly been in the wrong.
The man who had accompanied Albus stood.
The click of his cane as he stood beside the headmaster seemed overly loud in the room as he stared down at the semi-wall between the room's floor and the stands.
"And who are you, Sir?" Amelia asked, her voice harsh from the emotion she was keeping down.
"I am Newt Scamander, Magizoologist. I was invited here tonight to speak on a topic often feared and rarely understood."
The room stilled. Newt Scamander was a famous figure and seldom spent time in the United Kingdom in recent years.
"And what topic would that be?" Kingsley asked.
"The question of whether or not Mr. Potter is or is becoming an Obscurial."
"I thought it was Obscurus," someone said.
"The parasite of dark energy born from a witch's or wizard's suppressed magic is an Obscurus, while the host is an Obscurial." Scamander took a deep breath, "To which I can say that Mr. Potter is not one, nor do I believe his risk of becoming one is at all high."
"How else would you describe what we are seeing?" Kingsley asked.
"I see a child of extraordinary power with an injury to his magical core," Scamander said, meeting Kingsley's gaze. "It is my understanding that the Killing Curse is a form of soul magic, and seeing as Mr. Potter is the only known survivor, it seems only logical to expect that any long-term effects or conditions are unknown. It is notable to me that his curse scar was bleeding."
"How does an injured magical core interface with the effects known to be produced by an Obscurus?" Kingsley asked.
"That was not the effect of an Obscurus. I dare say the whole of the Department of Law Enforcement might have been demolished if it had been. Likely the Aurors who tortured him would have been killed and this would be an entirely different discussion. What I believe we witnessed in that memory is what we might call 'accidental magic'. Although I'm not certain one would be incorrect in calling it elemental magic manifesting from his magic trying to protect him."
"Any suggestions for treatment?" Amelia asked despite her conviction to remain impartial. Any impartiality had flown out the window when she had seen Harry ambushed and kicked.
Mr. Scamander rested his free hand over his cane and said with a mirthless upward tilt of lips, "It is my professional opinion that you should stop torturing the boy. I believe his recovery from whatever ails him would be much improved if he was not routinely subjected to mental and physical maltreatment."
Amelia winced, "Neither Cornelius nor Dolores will be permitted further access to Mr. Potter."
"And you think that is enough?" Scamander asked, arching a brow. "I admit my absence from the country has been significant, yet in the past five years the articles written about Mr. Potter have been quite disturbing.
"Nearly murdered by a professor in his first year, accused of attempted murder in his second year, which led to him facing down a basilisk and targeted by multiple Death Eaters his third year.
"Then he was entered into the Triwizard Tournament in his fourth year, where he was forced to attempt to steal a dragon's egg. Which, for the record, was a horrible cruelty to the dragon and to the children. Additionally, it was inadvisable, if not heartless, to risk the eggs of endangered species."
There was an awkward pause, made more uncomfortable by Scamander patiently waiting for anyone to defend the Triwizard Tournament.
No one did.
Thankfully, Scamander continued on, "Since the events of last year, Mr. Potter's name has been defamed in a way that I have seldom witnessed happen to even the most disliked politicians, much less a minor who was believed to be an orphan.
"If your intent is to help Mr. Potter recover from his numerous trials, as he continues to be targeted by dark wizards, I would suggest you provide him with the protection of the law that would have been afforded to any other minor had he been other than a magical celebrity."
Kingsley's voice was not disapproving as he said, "You seem quite impassioned on Mr. Potter's behalf."
"I have personal experience with this court's biases against minors whose interests contradict the political agenda of the sitting government. I was expelled from Hogwarts for caring for a creature that is now legally recognised as not a threat to humans. Just as Rubeus Hagrid was expelled for, and who was also years later temporarily arrested for assumed endangerment of students by way of the Chamber of Secrets.
"Something Mr. Potter clarified was not the professor's fault.
"Both Professor Hagrid's expulsion and arrest, I may add, was a thinly veiled excuse not to protect students, but to punish a wizard for having a non-human parent."
Amelia winced at the remark. But Scamander was merely calling a spade a spade, to say Hagrid had not been targetted for his 'Half-Breed' status would be an outright lie.
"As it is in the current government's interests to silence Mr. Potter to stop him from revealing the return of the Dark Lord Voldemort, a.k.a., Tom Marvalo Riddle, to the public, I believe much will be attempted to silence him," Scamander concluded.
"So you believe his claims about Cedric Diggory's death?" Elphias Doge asked.
Scamander reached into his jacket and removed a notebook, "Let me pose a question to you in turn. Do you believe a child as young as a year old would remember their parents' death well enough to register the true meaning of it?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Elphias asked.
"I am told that until this year, Mr. Potter was unable to see Thestrals." He opened the book to show a beautiful sketch of two adult Thestrals with three foals.
Ordinarily, Amelia would have found the skeletal horses to be quite unnerving, but the drawing painted the small herd in a new light. There was personality and gentleness in the body-language of the still image.
"While I'm not saying every Magizoologist is a saint, in my experience, there are many in my field who do not belong. However, I will say, I doubt the ability of a fourteen-year-old to murder a fellow classmate for a competition he did not willingly enter. Not when every aspect of his character portrays the opposite. I do not know Mr. Potter personally, I can say that a boy who has befriended a phoenix, a Thestral herd, a herd of Hippogriphs, unicorns, and even befriended a bowtruckle, who would seek help from strange wizards—" Here he indicated the ginkgo bowtruckle sitting on Amelia's desk, "is not the sort of person capable of murdering another human being for a game."
Elphias tilted his head, "You would like to appeal to this court's sympathy?"
"If this court has no sympathy for a boy tortured unlawfully in its own walls of justice, then I would say there is no hope for this country. No, I merely wish to point out this court's historical bias against such persons who have more four-legged friends than two. Mr. Potter is not an Obscurial, he is a child who has suffered much harm, yet retains an admirable fortitude and heart."
The bowtruckle on Amelia's desk chittered in what could only be affirmation.
As did the phoenix on Albus's shoulder, chirping while bobbing its head.
Amelia met Albus's gaze, "You wouldn't happen to have obtained Mr. Potter's memory of the night of Cedric Diggory's death, on which this farce of an arrest hinged, would you, Professor?"
Albus stepped forward, pulling from his robe another vial, "I would, in fact."
Another Unspeakable took the vial and again the assembly was obscured in more silver smoke.
Scamander returned to his seat, Fawkes the Phoenix hopping to his lap to be petted by the acclaimed Magizoologist.
They saw two boys standing in a square of hedges before a cup.
Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory, the two Hogwarts champions.
They were arguing.
Not for themselves, but for the other, both professing the other deserved the cup.
Harry's refusal to take the cup was a direct contrast to how the papers had portrayed him, as did Cedric's insistence that Harry had throughout the competition gone out of his way to help the other champions.
Finally, Harry stated they should take the cup together.
It was noble and Amelia was certain it was a choice Mr. Potter would regret for the rest of his life as the two were portkeyed into a graveyard off the Hogwarts grounds.
It was a reminder of the damage the Aurors had inflicted when they had kidnapped Harry the previous night.
Peter Pettigrew was immediately recognised, and his use of the Killing Curse was unmistakable.
The resurrection of Lord Voldemort was disturbing, to say the least.
The appearance of thirty Death Eaters was no less disturbing. Many of whose names had been cleared in this courtroom.
Voldemort not only named himself Tom Marvolo Riddle, claiming a muggle man as his birth father to Harry, but he also greeted several of his Death Eaters by name:
Lucius Malfoy.
Crabbe.
Goyle.
Nott.
Macnair and Avery.
Those in the courtroom murmured at this and Amelia gave Kingsley the silent go ahead to make the arrests at the end of this court hearing.
The duel between Harry and Voldemort was impressive, and it did not escape Amelia's attention that, as the spectors emerged from the brother wands' ignition of Pririori Incantatem, while Cedric Diggory, Bertha Jorkins, an elderly man and Lily Potter all appeared, James Potter did not.
In fact, where one might expect him, there was a flash of particularly bright white light.
The fact that the memory didn't end with Harry crying over Mr. Diggory's body was not heartening. Barty Crouch Jr.'s monologue was as informative as anything and damning as anything they had witnessed so far.
After the memory faded, there was absolute silence. Amelia had zero fears about this memory being tampered with.
Not even Rita Skeeter had the imagination to come up with all that.
"Well," Elphias said. "That certainly changes things."
Amelia turned her gaze on Cornelius who looked hollowed out, staring off into space as if he realised the damage he had caused.
"Minister," she drawled, "is there anything you would like to add to these events? Especially given the fact that, if you had not executed the Dementor's Kiss on Bartemus Crouch Jr., we might have been aware of these happenings far sooner?"
Cornelius lowered his head and muttered what sounded like, "He wasn't executed."
"What was that, Minister?" Kingsley asked with condescension.
Cornelius raised his head and, looking as if he were signing his own execution, said, "Crouch Jr. did not receive the Dementor's Kiss that night, he escaped."
Amelia gaped at him. "You— what?"
Cornelius swallowed hard, "Crouch Jr. escaped. He's still at large. My Aurors were still looking for him."
"None of my teams were aware of this," Kingsley snapped. "My teams who are competent and who would never torture a minor."
Cornelius didn't respond to that.
Amelia glanced at the court, many of whom were furious and afraid.
Albus and Minerva looked nothing short of thunderous in their rage.
They were about to enter a second civil war in their country and now they knew there were at least thirty-one of Voldemort's most trusted followers at large in their community.
And they had been wasting time with Fudge's gaslighting and smear campaign against Mr. Potter.
Elphias cleared his throat. "Which I believe brings us to the concerns of James Potter and Sirius Black. If Harry Potter is to be believed, the wand that was confiscated after the attack on the Ministry, which we had presumed belonged to the resurrected James Potter, was, in fact, his. But it was no longer in his possession at the time."
Minerva stood, "I can testify about both James Potter's and Sirius Black's whereabouts on the night in question."
"You've been harbouring criminals?" Dolores exclaimed in feigned outrage.
She was ignored as Albus handed two more vials to the Unspeakable.
"I would first like to clear Mr. Black's name," Albus said. "I will confess to keeping his whereabouts hidden when I learned from Crouch Jr. and Sirius himself the deceptions that we had been under all these long years. I have testimony from both men that Peter Pettigrew was indeed the Secret Keeper for the Potters."
No one protested this statement. It was not hard to believe the man who had killed Cedric Diggory under the orders of a necromantic baby Dark Lord —Kill the spare— was evil.
The vision started with Lily Potter, James Potter, a baby Harry Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black seated in the living room of what Amelia presumed to be Godric's Hollow.
They watched the Fidelius Charm be cast, they watched Peter Pettigrew become the teacher.
They watched Sirius Black check on the well-being of his timid friend, only to find him missing from their safe house.
Sirius arrived at Godric's Hollow too late. The gentleness with which he held baby Harry as he stepped over the bodies of James and Lily was truly heartbreaking.
They saw the teary goodbye between Harry and his godfather as he was entrusted to Rubeus Hagrid's care. Sirius gave up his flying motorbike to aid in his godson's safety.
After which the hunt was on and Sirius found the traitor.
They witnessed for themselves the cowardness of Peter Pettigrew as he murdered twelve innocent bystanders and cut off a finger before transforming into a rat.
They watched as Sirius Black fell to his knees amidst the destruction, laughing.
Not from joy but from sorrow, from guilt, from the enormity of his mistakes and all that he had lost.
They had all been told that Sirius Black had laughed like his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange, yet what Amelia saw was not the laughter but the tears.
The sobs that punctuated the broken laughter as Aurors arrived to arrest him, as he muttered to himself.
"It's my fault. It's all my fault. James. Harry… oh, Harry."
Amelia wiped away her own stray tears, knowing that a trial for that one man would have resolved so much.
The crimes and incompetence of this government kept piling up.
The court was not given time to comment as they were plunged into the next memory.
This time of James Potter himself.
He stood before a set of stairs, shouting. "Lily, run!"
Without a wand, James Potter stood tall and unbent before the Dark Lord of old.
Handsome and youthful save for the crimson hue of his eyes as he raised his yew wand at the man.
"So brave," Voldemort sneered. "So defiant. Think of what you could have been. Think of the future you could be a part of."
James Potter did not flinch. "You will perish tonight. You will be the cause of your own destruction. Your conceit and cruelty will be your undoing. The world will never be yours, for the darkness can never win against the light. Not for long."
Voldemort laughed. "Would you like to bet?"
James smiled, "I do believe I am. I'm staking my life on it, aren't I?"
Voldemort cocked his head to the side like a bird of prey. "And what fun is betting against a dead man?"
James glowered, holding his ground. "The only way you're getting past me to my wife and child is over my dead body."
Voldemort smiled, wicked and malicious. "Another bet you'll lose. I have pursued immortality and found myself victorious. But along the way I discovered a few impractical options I thought I would never bother with, until now."
James finally looked uncertain, "What are you talking about?"
Voldemort brandished his wand. "When next you wake, James Potter, I promise you, it will be to a world remade in my image."
James's lips parted in protest but Voldemort was already casting his curse.
"Dormies Aeternis!"
Latin for Eternal Slumber.
White light bloomed from Voldemort's wand, striking James Potter's heart.
He collapsed to the ground as if dead.
His hazel eyes held the same vacant stare of someone who had been struck with the Killing Curse.
The courtroom erupted into a cacophony of exclamations and protests.
But Amelia needed no more evidence that James Potter had not been resurrected, merely woken up from a cursed sleep.
The white light matched the light that had preceded the shade of Lily Potter from Harry's memories of Priori Incantatem.
This trial would most definitely be rewriting the history books. By the time the sun rose, their world would not be the same.
oOo
Please join us tomorrow for a recording of The Delicate Art of Raising Thestrals at discord dot gg / BNMEXM9RBB
oOo
AN: Discord, amur falcons, or feedback, pretty please?