Alexandra Potter
Chapter 13
Scene 6/7
An uncomfortable silence lay heavy on the lift as it took Alex to her doom. It came mostly from the two Aurors, standing close to her sides as if she was going to run at any moment, but Hugh helped it along. His face was so white Alex thought he might be even more nervous than she was.
"Where are we going?" Alex asked, mostly to fill the silence. Anything that would distract her from the unpleasant bubbling in her stomach.
Hugh almost jumped at her question. "Level five: the Department of International Magical Cooperation," he said. "We secretly moved the location to avoid reporters."
"Oh," said Alex. That was good. She didn't feel like facing any cameras.
Bing!The doors opened and Alex starred. A crowd was gathered in the stone foyer beyond, waiting in a ring around the lift entrance.
"There she is!"
Noise erupted; cameras flashed. Alex stepped back.
"Miss Potter! Miss Potter!"
"Alexandra!"
"Come on," growled one of the Aurors, and he took hold of her arm. Not wanting to be dragged, Alex went with him, the other Auror clearing a way in front. A pair of heavy-set wooden doors sat on the other side; they swung open to reveal a palatial ballroom with a polished wooden floor and church-like windows. The hearing had been set up in the centre of the room: an island of seats with pink cushions arranged in rows, divided down the centre by an aisle. The seats faced a low platform on which sat a large table and three thrones.
"No reporters, huh?" said Alex when the doors closed behind them, shutting out the noise. According to Hugh, the article in the Hogsmeade Herald had been a huge success, triggering something of a national debate.
"Sorry," he said, straightening out his robes. "But no harm done, yes? Let's go set up -- we're at the front here."
A few people were already in their seats, most notably Harmand Greengrass, sitting at the front on the right. Astoria was with him, and two other men Alex had never seen before. A stern-looking witch with a monocle was sitting in the back row; she turned to look at them when they entered and met Alex's eyes, giving her a small smile before turning back around.
"Who's that?" said Alex as they approached.
"Madam Bones," said Hugh. "She's the Head of--"
"--The Department of Magical Law Enforcement," completed Alex. She smiled, remembering Susan. Things had been good back then -- back when they were friends. "I know her niece."
They arrived at their seats: opposite Greengrass on the left side of the divide. Hugh started taking papers out of his case, laying them out on the table in front of him. "That might explain it, then," he said, thumbing through a sheaf of bound parchments for a particular page. "I wouldn't have expected her to come, normally. Not procedure."
Alex nodded, before stealing a glance towards Greengrass. "What about them?" she asked with a slight jerk of her head, indicating Greengrass' companions.
"The man in the wig is his apologist, Samuel Lewis," said Hugh. The man in question looked almost as old as Dumbledore, but he lacked the Headmaster's eclectic fashion taste. He was dressed in a five-piece set of business robes with shiny brass buttons. "I've no idea who the other is. A family friend, perhaps."
He looked vaguely familiar to Alex, but she couldn't place him. He looked of an age with Greengrass, so maybe Hugh was right. A thought occurred to her. "How come you're not wearing a wig?"
"It's not strictly compulsory, outside the Wizengamot chambers," he said. "And they itch terribly."
Alex laughed; Hugh's eyes widened dramatically.
"Shh!" he hissed, bringing Alex up short. She could have kicked herself.No laughing. No smiling.Out of the corner of her eye she could seen Greengrass' sending her a hate-filled glare.
"Sorry," she said, speaking into her lap.
The makeshift courtroom slowly filled up, the whispers of the audience growing to a murmur. Alex kept her silence, not wanting to make another mistake. Her nerves had returned in full-force: she was shaking her legs rapidly, fidgeting in her seat, looking around at the anonymous faces of the gathered audience. She didn't know any of them and she wasn't interested in who they were. Ministry people -- that was all she needed to know. She could feel their eyes on the back of neck. She felt entirely too exposed in the centre of that enormous, empty room.
After what felt like forever, the hearing began.
"All rise!"
Two witches and a wizard passed down the aisle and moved to stand behind the three elevated thrones. Each one was wearing blood-red robes, simply cut, and a tall pointy hat. They were followed by a pair of clerks in black. The first was carrying a ceremonial set of scales, which he placed on the table in front of the judges; the second sat to the side of the judges and conjured himself a quill and parchment.
The judges sat, signalling the audience to follow.
"Let us begin immediately," said the male judge. His voice was gravelly and his face heavily wrinkled, but when he spoke the sound carried well. "We are gathered here today to hear the case of Lady Alexandra Alice Potter, 17th Countess of Shrewsbury, charged by Mister Harmand Greengrass of 25 Rundle Road, London with attempted murder. Are the concerned parties present?"
Alex stood along with Greengrass.
"Good," the man continued. "The time is nine-twenty in the morning. The date: March 1st 1992. I am Chief Bailiff Preston, with me are Bailiffs Hess and Quigley."
Bailiff Quigley took over. "Let us be clear," she said, prodding the table before her with a single finger, "the purpose of this hearing is not to establish the innocence or guilt of the defendant. We are here for a single purpose: to determine if the case merits attention from the Wizengamot. With that in mind… Mr Lewis?"
The Greengrass apologist stood to speak. He faced the bailiffs but addressed the room as a whole.
"Ladies and Gentlewizards, a crime has been committed. A crime so violent, so shocking, that any setting it before any court other than the Wizengamot would make a mockery of British justice. Today I shall demonstrate that despite her short years, Lady Potter is not only dangerous, but sufficiently aware of her actions to be morally - andlegally- responsible for them. I call upon Healer Broadwick."
"Healer Broadwick is called to the stand," announced Preston.
The man who was sitting with Greengrass stood and moved to the platform. He looked strangely familiar to Alex, but she couldn't place him. He had light blond hair, cut short, and a friendly face. Perhaps she had seen him at a Quidditch match.
Lewis began his questioning, each question designed the emphasise Daphne's injuries. He asked about her state when she arrived in the hospital; the extent and seriousness of her injuries, and of her resistance to treatment. It didn't paint a pretty picture. Finally, Hugh stood to ask his own questions. Like Lewis, he remained standing behind their table.
"Healer Broadwick, you have answered my opponent's questions with admirable detail," he began, "I hope you shall do the same for me."
Broadwick inclined his head. "I will, of course, answer to the best of my ability."
"Thank you. Ladies and Gentlewizards, we have heard much of the seriousness of Miss Greengrass' injuries. But it is true, isn't it Healer Broadwick, that none of these injuries will leave her with permanent damage?"
He asked the question with a kind of smugness in his voice. They'd discussed their strategy earlier that morning: they were to follow the path set out by Natalie Poett's article. If the bailiffs could be convinced that Alex's actions were not so different from the normal misbehaviour of children, they would not want to send her to full trial.
But Broadwick's answer was a surprise. "I'm afraid you're incorrect, Mr Welsey-Wesley. Daphne will have scarring around her neck for the rest of her life." He glanced towards Harmand, who was nodding along with a solemn look on his face. "Even worse, we have not yet discovered how to wake her up."
Liar!Alex didn't know how she knew, but she knew it: Broadwick was lying. Perhaps sensing her desire to accuse him, Hugh placed his hand on Alex's shoulder. He took a different direction. "How long have you been the Greengrass family Healer, Mr Broadwick?"
Broadwick frowned. "For almost thirteen years."
"And you've grown close to the Greengrasses in that time, haven't you?"
Alex realised where he was going around the same time as Broadwick. "If you're implying--"
"--just answer the question, please," interrupted Hugh.
"It's well known that I am a good friend of Harmand Greengrass, yes," said Broadwick, glancing again towards Harmand. He wasn't nodding anymore -- in fact, he looked like he had swallowed something rather distasteful.
"Thank you, Healer Broadwick," said Hugh. Though he sounded confident, Alex could see that his brow was sweaty. He turned back towards the bailiffs. "I put it to the panel that Healer Broadwick's testimony is not impartial."
Hess' removed her glasses and peered at Hugh down her hooked nose. "Noted. Let the record state that Mr Welsey-Wesley questions the professionalism of a respected St. Mungo's healer."
Alex looked up sharply.What? That's biased!For Hugh's part, he looked gobsmacked. He just stood there, apparently unable to speak.
"Does Mr Welsey-Wesley have any further questions for the witness?" Hess asked. She was smirking. Alex wanted to scream. That old crone! They've bought her off!
"No further questions," mumbled Hugh. He didn't so much sit down as collapse into his seat.
And so it went. One by one, Lewis called on witnesses. Each one played neatly into the Greengrass' story: not only had Alex attacked Daphne, she had a long history of aggression and delinquency. It was nothing less than a complete character assassination. Hugh tried to work against them, but something in him had broken. Alex could tell he'd given up.
After Broadwick, they heard from Hermione. She looked at Alex regretfully, even apologetically, but whatever she felt didn't stop her from testifying for Greengrass. She described the names Alex called her, the book Alex had knocked out of her hands, and the day of the duel.
"So you see: Daphne was not the only one!" proclaimed Lewis victoriously. "Miss Granger suffered too, and who knows how many others?"
Hugh had rallied at that. "I would remind my colleague that it isnotthe role of the Ministry of Magic to interfere in schoolyard quarrels," he said, his voice gaining strength with each word. "If it did, we'd have to arrest half the students in Hogwarts!"
It was an argument he tried to push again and again: the hot-headed fights of children were not criminal matters. It was the angle they had decided on before the hearing. It was a position that had found great success in the pages on the Herald. It played right into Lewis' hands.
Draco was summoned next. He took the chair without once looking in Alex's direction.
Lewis continued the assault. "I have here--" he waved a brown envelope in the air "--a series of letters sent from Miss Potter to Draco Malfoy during the month of December 1991. Mr Malfoy, could you confirm these as genuine for the panel?" He passed the envelope to Draco, who removed a series of parchments. Alex's heart sank when she recognised the contents.
"Yes, they're real," he said, speaking to Lewis straight-backed and proud.Trained by his father, no doubt, Alex thought bitterly.She could hear him now: "Don't slouch, Draco."
"I read now from the letter dated December 18th:Daphne's got something special coming her way." He looked around the room, shaking his head. "Something special! Great Merlin, the way this girl thinks! But that's not all. From December 21st:Where's the entrance to the Slytherin common rooms? How do you get in?" He walked forward and passed the letters to Hess, before addressing the audience at large. "Over and over, we have heard that this was a crime of passion! A moment of childish anger, no different to any other child. My friends, these letters are from December. Miss Potter attacked Daphne in February. The attack was premeditated, and planned meticulously! It was no ordinary childish quarrel!"
Hugh was so thrown he didn't ask any questions. "You didn't tell me about the letters," he hissed to Alex as Draco left the room. "This changes everything."
Alex looked down. "I'm sorry," she said, biting her lip. "I… I just forgot. I didn't think Draco would…"
Hugh sighed, but didn't press the point. "Well, at least they only have two more witnesses," he said.
"Who?" asked Alex. Lewis answered:
"The prosecution calls upon Miss Sophie Roper."
Alex looked up in surprise. "Sophie?"
She stepped forward, wearing her Ravenclaw-branded Hogwarts robes, her brown hair tied into a simple plait. She must have been pulled out of Hogwarts to give testimony.
"Hello Sophie," Lewis said, speaking gently. "Can you tell us how you know Miss Potter?"
"Er, we met on the Hogwarts Express," she said, "we shared a cabin - for a bit, at least."
"Only for a bit?"
Sophie paused. She looked at Mr Lewis, at the Bailiffs, and finally at Alex.
She closed her eyes when she spoke. "Alex was talking about how Muggles and wizards are the same. Daphne wanted to leave."
A few people gasped; whispers broke out in the audience.
"Silence!" called Preston, but even Bailiffs Hess and Quigley were muttering to each other.
"A strange view, to be sure," said Lewis. Again he seemed to be addressing the whole room. Alex resisted the temptation to bury her face in her hands. How many times was that day going to come back to haunt her?
"And what is your relation to Miss Greengrass?" continued Lewis.
"We're best friends," said Sophie. "Since we were seven."
"And have you seen Daphne, in her hospital bed?"
Sophie nodded. A tear escaped the corner of her eye and made its way down her freckled face. "I visit with Professor Flitwick every week."
"And how do you feel about that?" said Lewis, turning to face the audience.
Sophie sat up. "I want my best friend back," she said loudly.Rehearsed, thought Alex.Every word of it.
Lewis nodded to himself thoughtfully. "Across from you sits the one who put your best friend in that hospital bed. Do you have anything you'd like to say to her?"
Just as Sophie was about to speak, their gazes met again. Powerless, wishing she could just talk with her, Alex tried to plead with her through her eyes alone.I'm sorry, she thought, desiring with all her being that Sophie could hear it.I'm sorry.
Sophie's eyes widened and she paused. She blinked several times, looking like she was about to cry.
"Well?" pushed Lewis.
"I'm sorry," Sophie whispered.
"What's that?" said Lewis, too loudly. "Speak up, girl!"
"I'm sorry," she repeated, forcefully this time, so the whole room could hear. "I'm sorry for all the things we said to you. For all the bad things we did to you. I'm sorry that it came to this." She looked around, and now the tears flowed freely. Alex wiped her own face, finding that she was crying too. Lewis was waving his arm at the bailiffs frantically; Greengrass looked furious. She looked back to Alex and her lips twitched in what might have been a smile. "I forgive you."
"No further questions!" Lewis bellowed. The crowd erupted into noise; Greengrass stood up, looking about ready to strangle Sophie.
"Silence!" called Preston, but the crowd couldn't be controlled. Not after such a reversal.
"Recess!" called Hugh, seeing an opening.
Preston raised his wand and three loud bangs echoed through the ballroom. Finally, the audience stopped talking.
"The audience will rememberrespect," he said, before turning to Hugh. "I grant your request. We shall have a recess of fifteen minutes."