Narcissa moved out of the floo, with all the grace and poise a daughter of house Black had learned since she could walk. Her hair was impeccable, her clothes without a wrinkle. She wore dark blue robes with silver trims. The coat of arms of House Peverell was embroidered on her shoulder since she was in her function as a proxy. She stepped to the side, making room for her sister.
Andromeda came through with the same elegance, showing the same upbringing. Her robes in return were dark green and trimmed in onyx, as she was standing in for Sirius today. Their cousin didn't want to leave Harry alone at home and the boy wasn't keen on stepping into public at the moment, a notion both sister understood for different reasons. Narcissa was all for let grass grow over the whole suicide thing, while Andromeda thought it would be better to keep her patient away from stress for a little bit of time.
Both Black sisters made quite a few head turn. For one, they were both the beauties House Black had bred them to be. High cheekbones, narrow hips and impressive breast sizes, which were whispered to be the result of certain rituals and potions, some of those not really legal.
But more so, the emblems on their shoulders showed their allegiance to two noble houses and that they were here today to speak in their name if need.
Not that it was likely. Since the accused was a commoner, his fate wasn't decided by the Wizengamot. The Minister would name three-judge, one of which would be the head of the DMLE. The noble houses weren't required to be there for the trial since no one expected the lords to be there for every minor trial.
Of course, both sisters knew that every lord would be there today, or at least have representation, since the man on trial was none other than the leader of the light himself. No one would want to fail to attend the trial of the century. Right now, Narcissa could see Lord Nott, Lord Crabbe and Lord Odgen in the mass of people. She was sure the rest of the noble lords were somewhere in the building or would at least be in a couple of minutes.
"Shall we, sister of mine?" Andromeda's soft voice spoke near her ear. The black- and blond-haired woman nodded in agreement and both of them made their way through the gathered people. No one attempted to stop them or slow them down, the Black sisters were quite infamous.
They made their way to the chamber undisturbed. The hall was filling steadily. Narcissa nodded once at the already present Madam Bones while walking up to the Peverell seat, who returned the nod. It had been a little time since they had seen each other. Ever since the day Harry had tried to end his life, Sirius had stayed in the castle, not leaving his godson for long.
Therefore Amelia was in a weird situation. Many nights over the years she had to spend apart from one wizard or the other that had stepped up to her side but this was one of the few times when the reason wasn't herself. Most wizards couldn't deal with being put behind other obligation in a relationship, but that was what you got for dating the head of the DMLE. In fact, it was so bad that she hadn't seen anyone for five years before Sirius had returned into her life, like the tidal wave he was. It wasn't easy to be the second fiddle herself, for the first time really realising what it meant when someone was put ahead of you. But and that was big but, it was one of the reasons she liiiiiiiiiked Sirius. His devotion to his godson. But she wasn't ready to say love but still.
Amelia shook her head slightly, looking over at the door. Cornelius wasn't there yet, a fact that worried her. The minister was always one to come in early so he could rub shoulders with the high and mighty ones. He had done so ever since he had gotten into that position and to be honest even before that. For him to not do that was fishy Amelia. And as the head of the DMLE she had learned to trust her gut.
THat she had no idea who he would nominate as the second and third judge beside herself AND she hadn't gotten any evidence before that was alarming too. The head of house Bones was sure that the minister was playing a game. She just didn't know what game.
Narcissa sat down on the small chair that stood in front of the lavish armchair that was the seat of house Peverell. Proxies never sat on the armchair themself, only the lord or lady that was the head of the house was able to. Her eyes darted over to her sister who hadn't sat down but was talking with Lord Greengrass. Narcissa nodded to herself. Lord Greengrass looked grim. Her sister turned her head once and their eyes connected. The brunette brushed her hair behind her right ear before looking away. Narcissa frowned a little. That meant Lord Greengrass had no further information.
"A disgrace is this." A voice from her right made Narcissa turn her head. Dowager Longbottom had just sat down in her ancestral seat, her face grim and a frown was clearly shown. Narcissa rose from her seat and made a respectful curtsey to the noblewoman.
"Lady Longbottom. Good morning."
The gruff woman nodded at her once. "Good morning Miss Black. How is Lord Peverell? Neville wrote to me the other day and mentioned he...wasn't feeling all that well."
Narcissa frowned slightly. "Lord Peverell is feeling better. He returned home with my lord yesterday. House Black would have prefered to keep this whole thing would have been kept confidential but that nasty article in the prophet saw to that. "
Augusta Longbottom huffed displeased. "I know why I don't read that rag anymore. Ever since that article a few months ago, people ask me if I need help, dealing with life." Her tone made her abundantly clear what she thought of these ideas.
"That Skeeter woman is the worst of them all. Someone should handle that woman."
Narcissa smiled in satisfaction but said nothing. No one needed to know that Rita Skeeter was defanged, probably forever. Narcissa made a mental note to write the woman and tell her to leave the Longbottoms alone. She then raised her gaze when the main door was pushed open and the minister walked into the room. But he wasn't alone.
Narcissa tried to hold her bile back when she saw her ex-husband walking beside Fudge, a smug smile on his face. That toad faces Umbridge was also walking behind the two men, holding a binder in her arms. The three moved towards the main podium, where Madam Bones was sitting. Said woman rose to her feet.
"Minister." She greeted him roughly. The man smile up at her starting to climb the stairs himself.
"Amelia, good morning." He said, his face lightly reddened even after the few stairs.
"You still need to name two judges for today's trial minister." She said down her nose at him. Cornelius Fudge smiled, shaking his head.
"Oh no my dear, that has already be done. Dolores." The pink wearing woman stepped up, placing the ledger on Amelia's desk.
"The minister deemed this trial to important to have someone but himself sit as judge."
Amelia raised her eyebrow, thumbing through the ledger. "And the third?"
Lucius Malfoy smiled widely as he stepped up, his cane clicking on the floor. "Dear Cornelius has asked me to fill that role." The smirk on Lucius's face was almost disgusting. Amelia raised her eyebrow.
"You are taking the mickey right?" She asked, her eyes turning to Cornelius Fudge. The minister blinked at her in surprise.
"Of course not. This is nothing to joke about Amelia."
Bones rose to her feet, crossing her arms. "Oh Cornelius, I know that very well. This is probably the most important trial of the century. This is Albus freaking Dumbledore we are talking about and you want to nominate HIM?" She pointed at the noble lord who in return sneered at her.
Lord Malfoy stepped up to her desk. "And why, Madam Bones would you say something like that?" The smile on his face was now really disgusting. Amelia would not back out anyway.
"Maybe, because we all know how biased you are. It is not a secret that there is no love lost between you and Mr Dumbledore. You have spent years trying to get him out of Hogwarts and spoke out against every policy he had ever put in in this chamber." Umbridge was shooting her a nasty glare.
Malfoy wasn't impressed by Amelia's outburst. "Because he is an old fool and tried to deconstruct our entire society."
Fudge was now stepping in raising his hands. "Now now. Amelia, there is no one unbiased when it comes to Albus Dumbeldore, that is what he is. But Lord Malfoy assured me, he would let bygones be bygones when it comes to this."
Malfoy nodded graciously and Amelia snorted. "Sure." She said sarcastically. "Minister I raise a formal protest against Lord Malfoys nomination as a judge. There are others way more neutral. Augusta Longbottom, Lady Abbott or Lord Odgen."
Malfoy sneered at the names. "All Dumbledore lovers." He said half loud, quiet enough to be not part of the conversation, still, everyone could hear it. Cornelius shook his head.
"Protest heard and denied. Lord Malfoy will stay. Now let's get on with this." He moved passed Amelia to the central judge chair. Amelia glared at him for a moment, before she sat down briskly. Her eyes swept around the chamber. Every lord or proxy chair was filled as was the row for the members of the order of merlin and the spectator ranks. All faces were eager or nervous, the press was fiddling with quills.
In front of Amelia, the ancient and stoic Griselda Marchbanks carefully rose to her feet. Born in the year 1872, she was the oldest member of the Wizengamot, earned her order of Merlin for years of long and dutiful service in the WEA as well as other things. She was of short stature, with grey hair cut to shoulder length and pale slightly watery eyes. Her hands shook a little as she gripped the edges of the lectern. Her back seemed almost ready to break under the heavy formal robes she wore, but when her voice filled the chamber it was clear and strong.
Welcome, honoured heads of houses, Minister, heads of departments and people of the public welcome to the seven hundred and twenty-ninth meeting of the Wizengamot. As it is tradition it is my duty as the oldest member of our honourable gathering, that I, Griselda Anna Marchbanks, will hold the seat of Chief Witch of the Wizengamot until the former is fit to do his duty or the chamber elects a new Chief Warlock. May we all strive for a better future. So mote it be."
The murmuring around the room echoed her last words. She nodded once, coughing slightly, before staring out into the group once more.
"Today we have gathered here to confirm the innocents or guilt of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Bring in the defendant." All heads turned towards the side portal, which opened. Whispering broke out and many cameras flashed, taking snapshots of the old man walking in. The room filled with the sound of scratching quills. Dumbledore wore the clothes he had been arrested only added with magic suppressing cuffs. Around him were four Aurors, but still, he looked like he was taking a walk in the park. Dumbledore moved to the centre of the room and sat down in the chained chair like he owned the place.
The chains rattled and rose but one glare from the old wizard and they pulled back like burned. Then Dumbeldorefolded his legs leaned back and smiled at Marchbanks. The old with didn't miss a beat, as she spoke once more.
"Welcome to the Wizengamot Mr Dumbledore." She said to the old man. Dumbledores eyes twinkled as he blinked slowly.
"Thank you, Griselda. I hope you are well." Dumbledore answered in conversation tone like they were having tea over a scone. The old witch wasn't deterred.
"Very well, I yield the floor to the head of the DMLE."
Amelia felt all eyes in the room turn to herself and she rose. "Thank you ChiefWitch. Sadly I am not privy to the information why Mr Dumbledore is here today, but like most of you I am quite eager to hear myself." She turned her eyes to the minister, who stood up himself.
"Ah, maybe I can shed some light on that." He placed his green bowler on the desk. "Given the position of Mr Dumbledore in our society, I deemed it better to keep his crimes under wraps until we were ready to prosecute those."
"Even from the DMLE?" Amelia pushed with an angry tone. She didn't like to be left out. Fudge nodded.
"Yes dear Amelia, even the DMLE. I personally assigned a special prosecutor for this case. Miss Umbridge would you please?"
Amelia frowned even deeper as the pink-clad woman rose to her feet. Her sickening sweet voice echoed through the room.
"Hem, Hem. Thank you, Minister. Mr Dumbledore, you have long held prestigious positions and titles in our society. Order of Merlin First Class, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump and of course headmaster of Hogwarts. You were revealed by many and admired by more. So it came to me as a surprise and shock, when the Minister revealed these crimes about you. Mr Dumbledore, you stand accused of the murder of Vernon Dursley, as well as the kidnapping and murder of Petunia Dursley nee Evans under the knowable muggle act from 1992."
A hushed whispering went through the crowd as Amelia unfolded her arms, frowning. Dursley? What was going on here?
Umbridge continued. "As we all know muggles, who know about magic are protected by the law, to prevent attacks against the families of muggle-born witches and wizards. This law was passed with the backing of the Chief Wizard at the time, Albus Dumbledore himself."
She laid down a certain piece of parchment and turned to Amelia.
"MadamBones, would you please give us the details about the Dursley incident seven days ago?"
Amelia still frowning rose to her feet. "Seven days ago at about six in the evening, the Auror department was contacted by the muggle police. We always have contacts there, who know what to do to protect the ISoS. The house had been attacked by an unknown wizard or witch, Miss Dursley was nowhere to be found and Mr Dursley was dead in the living room. Over the house hung the Dark Mark."
The whispering grew louder as people where shocked. The lat war wasn't too long ago for people to forget.
Umbridge nodded. "Have the Unspekables been ordered to the crime scene?"
Amelia nodded slowly. "Of course. With the Dark Mark, I deemed it necessary."
Umbridge nodded. "Thank you Madam Bones. The persecution has no more questions to you. I would now like to call Mr Croaker as a witness."
Amelia frowned. She didn't understand what the plan was here. Nothing in this showed any connection to Dumbledore.
The door to the side opened and in came the most blatant person you could think off. For someone as the head of the department of mystery, you expect someone grand or fascinating. Croaker was nothing of this sort. He wasn't tall, nor short, not fat nor slim. His hair was simple brown and his face without any special features. He was someone you could talk to and forget not seconds later. He wore simple grey robes and walked over, bowing in front of the judges.
"Thank you for coming, Mr Croaker." Umbridge said sweetly and again Croaker just bowed.
"Mr Croaker, are you aware of the attack on a muggle family in Surrey on the 5th of December this year?" Umbridge asked, reading from the parchment.
Croakers voice was as bland as his exterior, simple, not unpleasant but forgettable. "Yes of course."
"Would you please state your findings?" The prosecutor asked.
Croaker nodded. "Our department was called due to an act of category seven-three-seven, that is the Dark Mark. We searched the perimeter as it is regulated and took measurements. The male victim was killed in the living room. His eyes were missing, as was his liver. thirty-three wounds, twenty-six broken bones and seventeen bruises were found. He missed a couple of fingers and his cramped muscles suggest the use of the Crusiatus curse. We thin he was tortured for about an hour."
A gasp of horror went through the crowd. That was a gruesome report, even for those how had lived in the war, which was most. Amelia nodded grimly. She had seen it first hand and even if she didn't know what was going on, she was totally on board with finding and punishing who did this.
"And the female?" Umbridge asked, leaning forward a little.
Croaker continued speaking in a tone that sounded like he was rattling down a shopping list.
"We found no trace of a real fight, but given that she is a muggle a simple stunning spell would stop her from even trying."
Umbridge nodded, marking something in her notes. "Mr Croaker have you conducted a lifting ritual?"
Now Amelia eyed them suspiciously. Lifting rituals were used to like the name said to lift the signature of a spell from the surrounding and analyse it. It was extremely complex and only a few people could do it. The accuracy varies too.
"Yes Miss Undersecretary, we did."
"What were your findings?"
"We found two magical signatures. One was unknown to us but the other wasn't" Croakers voices started to get on Amelias nerves. She did notice Cornelius smile from the corner of her eye.
"Who's signature was it?"
Croaker eyed the old man in the chained chair. "Albus Dumbledores." That had people now not only whispering but talking to each other. Giselda Marchbanks gavel connected with her lecturn.
"Quite or I have the chamber emptied." It quieted down a bit.
"Thank you Mr Croaker. There is a second incident I would like to talk to you about. This incident was a day after the attack on the Dursley home. The sixth of December. There was a 657 alarm, is that the correct term?"
Croaker nodded, his hands folding in front of him. "Yes, Ma'am."
Umbridge nodded, marking something again. "Would you please elaborate on that?"
Croaker nodded softly. "A 657 alarm is one of the magical eruptions. It told seven times."
"Is that a lot?"
Croaker tilted his head to the side thinking about it. "Yes, I would say so. Fiendfire is a two chim, a Dementors kiss is a three. Only once had the bell told more times during my time in the ministry, 1981 when the Dark Lord fell the Bell rang eight times. Seven happened only twelve times in the past fifty years. Of course, the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes was informed as was the Auror Department."
"Thank you Mister Croaker. Does any of the judges have any questions?" Umbridge said, closing a ledger on her desk and pulling forth a third.
Amelia raised her hand. "A question Mister Croaker." The eyes turned to her.
Croaker smiled. "Of course Madam Bones."
"Can you be for sure that those signatures have been left behind at that night?"
Croaker frowned, thinking about it. "Yes and no Madam Bones."
"Could you explain?"
Croaker nodded, unfolding his hands. "Magic works a little like a smell. While it is easy to recognise a familiar smell, it is harder to determine when that smell came to be but it also disappears quite quickly. Either Mr Dumbledore was there that evening, casting great amounts of magic or he came there every day for the past decade and cast normal amounts, saturating the house with his magic. If he would have lived in that house for example."
"And these signatures can't be faked."
Amelia nodded, writing a little bit down. "Thank you Mr Croaker. No more question from me." The two other judges also shook their heads.
"The prosecution would like to call Auror Proudfoot."
The door opened and Croaker passed a man in crimson Auror robes. He had dark hair and a pointed chin, moving with a strong and confident stride. He held a box under his arm. Amelia knew him, of course, since he was one of her men. He was an acceptable Auror, nothing too special but nothing too bad. He never really came into her focus. At the start, he seemed to be a little put off with his muggle-born partner but that was years ago.
He sat down in the witness chair. "Good morning Minister, honoured Lords and Ladies." He bowed while sitting.
"Good morning Mister Proudfoot." Umbridge smiled at him, looking like a toad that just swallowed a fly.
"Good morning Madam Undersecretary."
"Mister Proudfoot, you are an Auror for how many years now?" Umbridge looked over the edge of her desk at him. The man thrust out his breast proud as his name.
"Seven years Madam Undersecretary." The pride in his voice was quite noticeable and for good reason, Amelia thought. Being an Auror was a prestigious position and one could be proud to be part of that corps. Umbridge nodded.
"Impressive. Would you report on the alarm of the 6th of December this year?"
Proudfoot nodded, licking his lips and scratching his forearm a little. "Of course Madam Undersecretary. Around eleven in the morning, the Department of Mysteries contacted the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes as well as the Auror Department to investigate a magical explosion. I was dispatched by the Department to get first intel and moved first with floo and then with a broom to the place of the incident."
"Where was this place, Mister Proudfoot?"
Proudfoot scrunched his nose in thought, scratching again. "In the middle of nowhere Ma'am. About sixty miles north of Glasgow. It took me about an hour to get there."
"And what did you find?"
Proudfoot sighed. "It looked like something had exploded there. There was a crater, burned and broken trees around the clearing. A broken cauldron. And the dead body of a middleaged woman. Not a pretty sight. Looked like someone almost cut her head off."
Umbridge nodded. "Did you know that woman?" She asked. Proudfoot shook his head.
"Not at the time. But I saw her picture on the boards in our department when I returned."
Umbridge noted once again something on the parchment, a habit that annoyed Amelia to no end like the cow didn't know this already.
"Please name the woman." She ordered Proudfoot. The man nodded.
"The muggle Petunia Dursley." Again whispering filled the room, hushed and surprised. Amelia frowned.
"Did you find anything else?" She asked, ignoring Umbridge. Proudfoot nodded and opened the box.
"Just this." And he pulled from it a long deep red feather with golden tips. It sparkled a little. Yet no one would miss what it was. A phoenix feather.
Umbridge nodded. "Thank you, Mister Proudfoot. Does anyone has any questions on the incident?"
Amelia once again raised her hand. "Auror Proudfoot. Did you find anything else, traces of a ritual or anything?"
Proudfoot shrugged a little. "It was hard to tell, everything was torn up. Maybe there were markings on the ground but really? I have no idea. I don't want to make assumptions."
Amelia nodded. "Thank you, Auror Proudfoot."
Umbridge nodded, waving him to the side. It wasn't unusual for Aurors to stay at hand during trials. Amelia concentrated on Dumbledor. The old man hadn't said a word since Umbridge started, not moving either. He still sat there calm, but he looked tired. He didn't seem like he would fight for real here. Amelia frowned. Was he guilty and had given up? That didn't seem like Albus Dumbledore.
"I now call forth Auror Shacklebolt."
Once more the door opened and the dark-skinned Auror walked in, his steps confident et muted. He gave a smile to the audience.
"Minister, honoured Lords and Ladies." He then nodded to Amelia. "Boss."
Umbridge gestured him towards the witness chair where the man sat down with grace.
"Mr. Shacklebolt, you are here to answer questions about your visit to Hogwarts Castle six days ago."
"Yes, Madam Undersecretary." He said with an even voice. Amelia smiled. She knew he disliked Umbridge ever since she had called him a neggro, but he wasn't showing any of it.
"Mr Shacklebolt, when you came to the castle what were your orders?"
"To take Albus Dumbledore into custody and search his personal quarters."
Umbridge nodded, marking something down once again. "Who gave these orders?"
Shacklebolt pointed at the middle judge. "The minister himself."
Umbridge smiled at him. "What were your findings?"
Shacklebolt took a deep breath and his finger rose to his golden earring only to stop himself. Amelia knew the man quite well this was a tell that he was either nervous or that he was bluffing while playing wizarding poker. And Amelia was sure he wasn't bluffing.
"Well, Mr Dumbledore came along without an argument, placating his deputy when she tried to intervene and also Lord Black when he tried the same. He was courteous and pleasant, asking only to retrieve a pair of warm socks from his study, stating the holding cells were quite cold."
"Was that granted?" Umbridge asked, for the first time showing a frown on her face. Shacklebolt shook his head.
"No Ma'am. The protocol is clear, no personal belongings."
"What about his wand? Surely you took it."
Shacklebolt again shook his head. "No, we searched him but didn't find a wand on his person. We also searched his quarters no wand either."
Umbridge eyed Dumbledore. "Where was your wand, Mr Dumbledore?"
All eyes including Shacklebolts turned to the old man who just smiled, shaking his head. "I must have misplaced it that morning. How neglectful of me."
Umbridge turned a little red glaring at the man while a few chuckles filled the room. A wizard misplacing his wand. Like that would happen.
"Anyways, you found something else in his quarters right?" Umbridge turned back to the black man. Amelia knew the answer already and slowly but steady the picture was forming behind her eyes. What was happening and where it was heading. And it made bloody sense.
"Yes Ma'am. We found a prisoner in an expanded suitcase. Antonin Dolohov." Once again whispers filled the room as the name of the famous Death Eater echoed through the room.
"Antonin Dolohov, better known as Voldemorts Strongest, is that correct?" Umbridge asked for confirmation. Amelia sighed inwardly. When it came to the death eaters, they were all perceived as special. Lestrange, Voldemorts executioner, Rookwood, Voldemorts master of mysteries, Sirius Black his right-hand man. They all got titles, each was the worst at something they said. Amelia sometimes wondered how many were left when you took away all the "special" ones.
"that's him. We took him in and questioned Dolohov, but he said nothing and since we couldn't give him Veritaserum, there wasn't much we could do." Shckalebolt said grimly. The truth serum was only legally used when the Wizengamot allowed it.
"Thank you Mr Shacklebolt. Does any of the Judges have any questions for Mr Shacklebolt?"
All three of them shook their heads. The black Auror stood and walked overstepping next to Proudfoot.
Umbridge looked over to the minister who nodded.
"Bring in Mr Dolohov." She called out. The doors opened and a chained Antonin Dolohov stepped inside, followed by two Aurors. Umbridge rose from her seat.
"I call for Veritaserum!" She spoke out. Giselda Marchbanks rose from her own chair, her hands again around the corners of her lecturn.
"There is a call for Veritaserum. Does the chamber agree?" A choir of Aye's filled the room. Marchbanks nodded.
"The call was heard. Administer the Serum." She spoke and returned to her seat. Proudfoot stepped forward, pulling out a little bottle. Dolohov kept his mouth closed and glared at the man. Then he spat in Proudfoot direction. The auror turned.
"I'm sorry Ma'am, I think he dislikes me for guarding his cell."
Umbridge frowned herself, waving her hand. "Force his mouth open!"
Proudfoot frowned and jerked his head. One of the Aurors that had led Dolohov in stepped forward and cast a spell on the prisoner, forcing his mouth open. Proudfoot stepped closer again, placing three drops on the man's tongue and closed his mouth. He then stepped back, nodding at the Undersecretary, before returning to Shacklebolts side.
Dolohov lost a lot of body tension, his eyes dropped down a bit. He seemed to look at nothing.
"State your name." Umbridge commanded.
The man slurred his vocals a little not unusual with Veritaserum. "Antonin Dolohov."
"Name your birthday."
"October the third." Came as an answer. Umbridge nodded to herself.
"Mr Dolohov, how did you escape Azkaban Prison?"
The death eater lulled his head to the side. "Albus Dumbledore freed me." This caused the imidate reaction. People screamed through one and another calling for answers or were simply shocked. Amelia frowned watching Dumbledore. The man looked thoughtful, his eyes were squinted as he looked closely at Dolohov. What was going on?
Marchbanks used her gavel. "SILENCE!" She screamed with surprisingly strong lungs, causing everybody to freeze and sitdown.
Umbridge nodded to her. "Thank you Chief witch. Mr Dolohov, how did Albus Dumbledore break you out of prison?"
Dolohov turned his unfocused eyes to her, blinking slowly. "I don't know. It is in a haze. I only remember pieces."
Umbridge hummed. "The dementor effect probably. Very well, what do you remember?"
Dolohov sagged a little into himself, blinking slowly. "I remember cold and sadness. Stone walls. Then the headmaster, stepping inside my cell." Amelia frowned. Yes, Dolohov had been to Hogwarts like almost all of them but for a Death Eater to still call him headmaster. Surprising.
"He cast the Imperio charm on me and-" The rest of his sentence was lost under the eruption of the crowd. Marchbanks banged her gavel again and again until Amelia stood and shot a cannon blast from her wand.
"This is a COURTROOM!" Her voice boomed over the now quiet crowd. "One more disruption and I will have the chamber cleared if the Chief Witch doesn't beat me to it."
That HAD people sit down quietly. The head of the DMLE was known as a strict woman of her word.
"Please repeat Mr Dolohov." Umbridge waved at him.
Dolohov nodded slowly. "He cast the Imperio charm on me and then had me follow him outside, where we mounted brooms and left."
Umbridge frowned thumbing through her papers. "What about the Dementors?"
Dolohov shrugged. "I don't know, I didn't see one."
Umbridge made furiously notes, while Amelia noticed Cornelius twitch beside her. She thought she knew wh. The thought that the ministry had no control over the Dementors was frightening. And bad for his poles.
Umbridge nodded to herself. "What then Mister Dolohov?"
"I remember being in a small room. I don't know how long. Then he took me somewhere, I don't know where. Looked muggle. He did something in the house and ordered me to shoot masters mark into the sky. I remember a woman. Brown hair, nothing more. Then I was in that small space again until that man opened the lid."
His finger rose slowly pointing at Shacklebolt. Umbridge nodded.
"That is everything. Does any of the judges have any questions?" Cornelius actually sat up more straight, folding his hands.
"You confirm, you simply didn't see Dementors that day in Azkaban right? And you were under imperius?"
Dolohov slowly nodded. "Yes."
Cornelius nodded. "How long were you in Azkaban before Dumbledore got you out?"
Dolohov's face turned to confusion. "I'm not sure. Since January 1982 I think. I don't remember."
Cornelius nodded. "Thank you." And missed obviously that he had just thanked a sentenced death eater in his relief that he could spin it this way. For someone under imperious and years of dementor influence that would be enough to calm the public.
Umbridge nodded. "That would be everything. Please return Mr Dolohov to his cell and administer the antidote."
Quickly the sentenced death eater was pulled from the chair, soon to return to the place where Albus Dumbeldore had broken him out of.
Umbridge folded her hands, addressing the chamber. "The prosecution is finished. As these witnesses and evidence showed, not only did Mr Dumbledore break out a sentenced murderer and terrorist from prison, but he also tried to use that man to hide his doing. The kidnapping of Miss Dursley, to use her in some ritual of most likely malicious intent. Miss Dursley is also the aunt of the boy who lived, Harry Potter, now known as Lord Peverell."
The noise in the room rose again but subsided quickly due to glare from Marchbanks.
Umbridge turned to the judges. "I could talk for long now, but I think the evidence speak for themselves. I call for a life sentence in Azkaban."
The muttering once again got loud and Amelia stood.
"Thank you Madam Umbridge. Mr Dumbledore, we have heard the prosecution. Now is the time for you to defend yourself."
The old man looked at her with sad tired eyes as he slowly stood. "Honoured lords and ladies, dear ministry workers, members of the public. I stand before you an innocent man. I have not killed Mister Dursley, nor kidnapped his wife. The only time I came to Akzkaban was two years ago, to retrieve a man, wrongfully placed there, my dear friend Hagrid. I don't know how Mister Dolohov was able to lie under Veritaserum, I don't know how a phoenix feather should be an indicator of my guilt. Yes, I have the honour to befriend a phoenix, but Fawkesisn't the only phoenix in the world."
Umbridge cut him."Hem Hem, MrDumbledoreshurely you haven't forgotten that the other two tamed phoenixes are both female and therefore black."
Dumbeldore turned, smiling at her. "Thank you Madam Umbridge, no I haven't forgotten that. But first all three of them are not tamed but friends. And there are other phoenixes in the world. But I digress. The magic in the Dursleys home is in fact mine but." He raised a hand as gasps filled the room. "I wasn't there for a long time. When Voldemort fell," He ignored the whispers. "I placed young Harry Potter with his relatives under strong wards directly connected to the boy. It was those wards that showed on the lifting Mr Croaker spoke about."
He folded his hands in front of him. "But that isn't everything. The times are dire. I fear Voldemort has returned!"
This time no matter how much Marchbanks banged her gavel or Amelia shouted for silence, the uproar from the crowd wasn't turned down.
Done. This was really fun to write. It flowed out of me like a stream, I had fun.
First of all, do you think he did it? Or did he not? And if not what is going on?
I feel a little weird to write Umbridge as somewhat competent. I needed a ministry official for the prosecution who was high enough up to do it and it couldn't be Amelia. Therefore this. But I think Umbridge needs to be at least somewhat competent since you can't get that high up without some skill in my opinion.
It took me acutally quite some time scrolling through google maps in search for a good place for the ritual. I ended up with something called the
Corrour Shooting Lodge.This was one long scene I hope it didn't drag too long. I tried to stay on message therefore not many jumps when it came to the point of view.
I don't want to write too much, just let me know what you think.
Next up: The verdict.