Chapter 3: Malfoy's trial

A few days later, Harry walked out of the lift on his way to an appointment with Kingsley and nearly ran smack into Draco. What the—! Malfoy was not escorted by guards, and if not cheerful, certainly did not look like he would faint any moment. They exchanged curt greetings. A minute later, Harry was sitting in the Minister's office with the host, Gawain Robards, and Hermione, and Robards explained that Draco was released on bail covered by an astronomical sum.

"Are you sure he will not just take off?" Harry said. "He is facing a life sentence if he doesn't find some wonderful excuse for his Imperius on Madam Rosmerta. I would do a runner if I were him."

"Yes, we are sure." Robards looked absently to a fake window. Something was fishy about all this, but they had not met to discuss the conditions of Draco Malfoy's bail.

"I'm afraid we have disappointing news," Kingsley said and dropped a book into the middle of the table. "This is a prepublication copy of Skeeter's Snape: Scoundrel or Saint. You can look inside if you like. But you can roughly imagine, I suppose, what awaits the reader."

Hermione grabbed the book and began flipping through the pages, looking up occasionally at Kingsley.

"The bad news is that, unfortunately, the Ministry cannot officially back up your story, Harry. Snape was a Death Eater and remains the murderer of Albus Dumbledore, and we cannot produce any reliable evidence for the claim that it was Dumbledore's wish for Snape to end his life."

Harry could not believe this was happening. He thought the days when he was silenced and his words were discredited and ridiculed were over, but it sounded like he was up for more.

"Harry, you should know that I personally believe you. As Kingsley Shacklebolt. But as the Minister of Magic, I cannot stand behind you in this matter. You did not witness those conversations between Snape and Dumbledore directly, your account is based on a memory you received from—"

"Which anyone could see! You collected it from Dumbledore's Pensieve, didn't you? Didn't you see it yourself?"

"That's the problem," Robards entered the discussion, "no, we could not see it properly. The memory is corrupted, and it's getting worse. Do you have any idea why?"

"No," said Harry and Hermione together.

"How did you actually transport it to the Pensieve?"

"In a vial, a flask, how else?" replied Harry.

"Was there anything else in that flask?"

"No. I don't know."

"There could have been traces of Felix Felicis," Hermione said. "I think it was the flask you gave us before you left with Dumbledore, the day he died, remember, Harry? You gave us the rest of your Felix Felicis for the case we had to fight Malfoy and whoever he was working with."

"Okay, that explains it. Liquid memories and liquid luck do not get on well together," said Robards.

"But," Harry tried to remember, "I thought you conjured it!"

"Well, not literally. It just happened to be in my pocket."

Harry buried his face in his palms, and his sigh gave away more annoyance than he had intended.

"Harry, you should be happy Hermione was able to give you any flask at all," Kingsley said firmly. "It was very lucky you had it in time to collect the memory. I wouldn't be surprised if its former contents had a certain share in it."

"Sorry." Harry didn't dare imagine what would have happened if he hadn't seen the memory. "How bad is the damage?"

"Bad," said Robards. "Speech is barely intelligible and the image is partly missing. There is no way to establish the authenticity of a memory of such low quality. Our experts say we can forget it. So we should rather think in a different direction. Could there be any living witnesses?"

"Not exactly living, but the portraits in the Headmaster's office, of course," Harry said, catching hope again. "The conversation between Dumbledore and Snape took place there, so the portraits should remember!"

"Well. We've asked them, but they all contradict each other. Sometimes it is better to have fewer witnesses than more."

"What about Dumbledore's portrait? Couldn't we just ask him?" Harry said.

"Theoretically, we could," said Kingsley. "But, first of all, he left the frame after the battle, and has not shown up in it ever since. You must have been the last ones who saw him at his post. So, if he is so kind as to come back at some point, we could ask him, but even then it is a shaky piece of evidence."

"Why?" asked Harry and Hermione simultaneously.

"See, portraits are not the same as the people they depict. They are pieces of art, and art is subjective. The artist has a considerable influence on how the person in the painting will turn out. This may affect the way the image behaves. So it's not the real Dumbledore in there. Not quite. It's the artist's perception of his character." Kingsley looked at another empty frame that hung on the wall opposite his desk.

"And what if the portrait lies?" Robards said. "You can hold a living person responsible for purgery, but you cannot punish the deceased."

"Yes." Kingsley nodded. "The portrait could be used, perhaps, to affect public opinion, but it's not good enough for evidence in court. As Minister, I must base my policy on hard facts. That's why we will not make any statement on Skeeter's book."

Harry had no other choice but to accept it.

"Hey, Harry, it doesn't matter," Hermione said when they left the Minister's office. "They believe you, I believe you, Ron believes you, and others will believe you, too. After all, you're Harry Potter, the hero of Hogwarts. Stand your ground. You're not a minister, you can speak from your heart."

"Yeah, I suppose. Where is Ron actually? I thought he was also meant to come."

"He was, but he couldn't. George is not doing well. Ron is helping him run the business."

The talk of George did not raise Harry's spirits, but Hermione's next announcement did. She had done the research, and found an Adriatic island where the wizarding locals had revived an abandoned Muggle village. If the guests did their own restoration and household magic, they could have a house ruin for two Galleons a night. And if after swimming and sunbathing they felt like some dark history, Albania was just around the corner. Ron and Ginny had already said yes. Harry said yes immediately, even to Albania, before Hermione finished explaining the travel arrangements. Two more months. He would be counting the days!


But the two months went by so quickly. Harry finally passed his apparition test. On the first of June, he started his internship at the Auror Office, and was now earning a few Galleons per week and depleting his parents' legacy at a much slower pace than before. He now occupied one of the cubicles in the Headquarters at level two and was put on the case of Thorfinn Rowle in a team with Hugh Savage and Evelyn Southill.

Savage was a former Hufflepuff and classmate of Tonks, whom he never missed a chance to commemorate with a story of their school days' mischief. Southill was an Unspeakable borrowed from the Department of Mysteries. After half of the Auror Office had either been killed in the war, sacked for corruption, or arrested on the suspicion of having connections with the Death Eaters, Kingsley was pumping in forces from Mysteries, the only Department which had managed to withstand Voldemort's infiltration. It was hard to find out anything specific about their activities during the war, but rumour had it that the Department had split in two, one part playing double agent and faking loyalty to Thicknesse, the other acting entirely underground, hiding Muggle-borns and supporters of the opposition.

As a result of Kingsley's staff policy, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was now overrun by Unspeakables. Some of them were transferred permanently, others joined temporarily to fill the most urgent personnel gaps. Southill, who coincidentally turned out to be Ron's third cousin, was one of the latter. She firmly believed that most ethical problems had technical solutions, and took Harry under her wing.

One of the first things Harry learned from her was 'peeling wands', as they called it—a technique based on recursive application of Priori Incantatem, which allowed to unwind a wand's spell history down several months. And that was just the beginning. He learnt a dozen different variants of the Revelio charm, not to speak of some new defence spells, and one time he even got to take part in an arrest.

When the Death Eaters' trials began in mid June, Harry attended many of the hearings. He had to testify in some cases, but often just came to listen and gain some background in magical law and the practice of its enforcement. His and Draco's paths crossed frequently, as Draco had virtually moved into courtroom number eleven as witness of the prosecution and seemed to leave it only to eat and sleep. He was dragging his dark fellows deep into the mud one by one, earning hate, occasional attacks and even two attempts on his life, both unsuccessful.


But all that became unimportant on the last day of June, when Harry stood on the platform nine and three-quarters, waiting for Ginny to come back from Hogwarts. He was wearing brand new trousers and a brand new T-shirt. He had considered wearing a shirt and even tried a few on in the shop, but no. Shirts made him think of Malfoy.

The Hogwarts Express pulled into the station. A gust of steam threw a white veil over his glasses, and when he wiped them clear and put them back on his nose, Ginny stood in front of him. Her trunk in her hand and Arnold the Pygmy Puff on her shoulder. She beamed, her hair was aflame in the evening sun, and a brown smudge went over a host of freckles on her cheek. A chocolate frog must have tried to escape.

Ginny set down her trunk. Oh right! The trunk! As Harry wondered whether it would be polite, or too much like Dean Thomas, to carry it, Ginny's arms went around him, Arnold's hair attacked his nostrils, and he sneezed right into Ginny's kiss.

Before he could say sorry, flashes cracked in a rapid succession.

"What the—!"

One had disapparated before Harry as much as opened his mouth. He caught a glimpse of a camera, before the other one vanished with a loud pop.

"Arseholes," Ginny said, lowering her wand. When had she even pulled it?


On the rare evenings when Harry could get hold of Ginny in the next couple of weeks, the shock of their first encounter kept haunting them. In Diagon Alley all eyes were on them, and Harry barely dared to put his arm around Ginny's waist. At the Burrow they were treated like kids, and that gave their kisses an aftertaste of cold porridge. Grimmauld Place seemed promising in the beginning, but when after a long day of unpacking, sorting, and accounting at Weasley Wizard Wheezes, Ginny lay in Harry's bed and he had the audacity to slip his hand under her pyjama top, she was already asleep. Harry prudently withdrew.

One weekend, when Percy came around to keep George company, and Ginny was free for a whole afternoon, they got as far as getting topless. It was not going too badly, Harry thought, when he stuck his nose between Ginny's breasts and ran his hand down her smooth back. But something buzzed past his ear, and he couldn't help looking up. A beetle landed on the back of the sofa.

Rage pounded in Harry's chest, he grabbed his shoe and struck to kill. The beetle escaped, but Ginny had raised her head to look and the sole landed flat on her fringe.

"Oh, sorry!"

A couple of minutes later, Ginny was pressing a bag of ice cubes to her forehead and Harry was flipping through the Standard Book of Spells in search for the one against bruises.

"You're no better than Ron around spiders," Ginny said.

"This is not a spider! This is Skeeter!"

The beetle had crawled behind the glass cabinet by the fireplace, and if Harry didn't want to smash the whole interior to shards, he had to abandon his quest of vengeance, at least temporarily. Where was Douglas when you needed him?

"Hey Skeeter!" Harry shouted into the room. "Stick your dirty antennae into my private life, and I'll let the Animagus Registry and pest control loose on you both at once!" The crystals of the chandelier trembled quietly in the warm breeze that pulled into the room through the open window. "Do you hear me?"

Ginny gave him a compassionate look from under the bag of ice cubes.

"Harry. This was just a beetle."

"Better safe than sorry."

Ginny shifted on the sofa and her skirt slid up her thigh.

"We could do it under your Invisibility Cloak, hm?"

Harry hushed her.

"Then," he whispered, "she'll write about my Invisibility Cloak. Brilliant!"

This could not go on like this, Harry thought, pulling on his T-shirt. They had to get out of this country. The sooner the better.


But Malfoy's trial kept being postponed, and that worried Harry more and more. From the first week of July it was moved to the fifteenth, then to the twenty-third, and when Harry made it clear to Mr Knox what he would and would not tell the Wizengamot if this were to cost him even a day of his planned holiday, Knox swore on his life that the delays were none of his handiwork and that he was wondering himself what was going on. The hearing was finally scheduled for the thirty-first of July, right for Harry's birthday, and when he woke up that morning and no ministry owl showed up with an announcement of another delay, Harry counted it as a birthday present.

At ten o'clock Harry entered the courtroom. It was full to the brim, except for a small group of empty seats in the last row centre, one of which he took. He looked over the rows in front of him for familiar faces, and saw Ron with Mrs Weasley on one side and Hermione on the other in the third row left. Ginny was not with them. On the right side Harry saw Katie Bell with her parents sitting in the fifth row. When they noticed him, they mouthed 'happy birthday' and waved cheerfully. The Malfoys, Draco and Narcissa, with Inquies Knox on their side were sitting in the first row right below Harry and staring motionlessly in front of them.

The press was present in abundance, all the reporters who had been chasing Harry since May were there with their quills and cameras, with Skeeter on the far right with the best view of the courtroom. Harry's fists clenched.

The Wizengamot side of the room was also full. Tiberius Ogden was the new Chief Warlock, presiding over the hearing. Next to him sat a row of former Unspeakables. One of them, the witch with a tall bun the colour of old burgundy and horn-rimmed glasses of the same colour, was Scarlett Kaye. She had made quite a name as a prosecutor in the last few weeks and was known as 'the Death Eater's bane' among her unfortunate clients. In the second row Harry saw Kingsley, who briefly lifted two fingers for a greeting and let them drop back on the desk when they made eye contact.

Just at that moment Harry started to realise why there were empty seats left around him. A small grey-haired witch sitting in the row right in front of him emitted a smell that painfully reminded Harry of his one and only visit to a Muggle zoo back in the pre-Hogwarts days of his troubled life. The smell was just bearable enough to sit through the trial, but it did not belong in a courtroom.

When Ogden opened the hearing and started to list the interrogators, Dean Thomas dropped into the seat next to Harry.

"Ah, just made it. Hi, Harry! Happy birthday!" he whispered, panting. "Thanks for the invitation! Hope that Malfoy won't ruin the mood."

Harry was going to celebrate his eighteenth birthday tonight, and no Malfoy was going to stop him. Many of those he had invited were sitting in the courtroom now, waving at him and chatting to their neighbours. The press must have got the wind of it, too, because little folded pieces of parchment with birthday greetings now came fluttering in Harry's direction from all corners. No one seemed to be paying much attention to Lucius Malfoy, who, surprisingly, was the first one to take the defendant's seat in the middle.

"I bet he paid for being charged with anything at all just to spend a few hours out of Azkaban," Dean whispered.

"Well, we can't blame him for that, can we? I would probably do the same," Harry said, opening the fifth flyer.

Just like the rest of the audience, Lucius did not seem particularly interested in the proceedings. While Knox was loading up the Wizengamot with paragraphs and statutes, Lucius was turning right and left, trying to catch sight of his wife and son, as far as the chains that bound him to his chair allowed. When he was pronounced guilty and his lifelong sentence was extended by a few more years, no one seemed bothered. Lucius was taken away by the guards, and it was Draco's turn.

Draco walked down to the chair as a free man, but as soon as he sat down, the chains sprang to life and fixed his arms with a loud clink. Now the audience went still, as if they realised that this was going to be more interesting than Harry Potter's birthday. Ogden went on to read out the charges. Draco pleaded guilty to the charge of conspiring with the Death Eaters, he pleaded guilty to two attempts on Dumbledore's life which were nearly fatal for Katie and Ron, and after a moment of hesitation, he also pleaded guilty to the third attempt. A murmur of haughty satisfaction rolled through the room. Only when the discussion had moved on to determining the measure of Draco Malfoy's punishment, did Harry realise that the Unforgivable Curse had miraculously disappeared from the list of charges.

Mr Knox requested to present evidence of mitigating circumstances, and this was where the action began. Harry had heard the story of Draco's change of heart during their meeting two months ago, but today Knox surpassed himself in eloquence. This was the moment when Harry was called forward as witness for the defence and took a seat next to Draco in the centre of the courtroom. They had rehearsed it, Harry only had to repeat the answers Knox wanted to hear, and abstain from taking the initiative. Knox did all the work.

"My client consistently refrained from participation in and on one occasion even sabotaged the Death Eater's criminal activities with enormous risk to his own and his family's lives. His actions were instrumental in Mr Potter's progress and the ultimate victory over Tom Riddle. Mr Malfoy's unconditional cooperation with the investigation is more than sufficient proof of his repentance. It should be clear to anyone that a person who had walked this path poses no threat to the wizarding community in present or future, and I therefore forcefully entreat the honourable judges to consider a milder alternative to imprisonment," were Knox's concluding words.

"He's sold his buddies, but we haven't seen much repentance!" someone shouted in the public rows.

"Harry, why do you defend this filth?" was another voice from the crowd. "Dumbledore defended Snape, and see how he ended!" There followed agitated talking.

"Gentlemen, I remind you to be quiet," interrupted Tiberius Ogden with a magically magnified voice. "Mr Potter is not defending anyone, but helping us establish some essential facts."

Then he turned to Harry:

"Mr Potter, may I ask you why you did not interfere with the events in the Astronomy Tower last June, if you were present and conscious throughout?"

"I was under a full body bind spell, sir, cast on me by Professor Dumbledore just before Draco Malfoy appeared on the platform," replied Harry. Ogden thanked him and released him from his duty. No one asked about his Invisibility Cloak.

"Mr Malfoy, how do you feel about the fact that Ms Katie Bell and Mr Ronald Weasley nearly died as a result of your actions?"

"I— I deeply regret what I did, sir, and apologise to Ms Bell and Mr Weasley and their families." Draco made a short gesture, something between a nod and a bow left and right in the Weasleys' and the Bells' direction, to the extent that his confinement allowed. His words sounded rehearsed, but for Malfoy's standards, it was probably as much of an apology as you could possibly get. "I would appreciate an opportunity to make amends," he added.

"Empty words!" Mrs Weasley hissed to her neighbours in the third row, but the whole courtroom heard her.

"It is up to you, Mrs Weasley, to have those words filled with content. Material compensation is handled by the Commission for Civil Disputes," said Ogden and closed the interrogation.

He waved his wand and an invisible soundproof wall fell between the Wizengamot and the rest of the courtroom. One could see them talk and argue, but one could not hear a word. After a while, some of them raised their hands, they were voting, but the pattern of hands in the air against those resting on the desks made an impression of a stalemate. The Wizengamot went back to discussion, and then they voted again, this time with more of a skew towards hands up. Ogden waved his wand again, and the wall of silence vanished.

Harry couldn't concentrate properly when Ogden started to list the circumstances they had taken into account and the paragraphs that had allowed them to do so. If he had had a time turner he would have skipped straight to the final verdict. Without one, he had a few long seconds to come to terms with the surprising realisation that he was nervous and a bit too eager to know what Draco Malfoy's fate would be.

"—is sentenced to two years in custody. The sentence is suspended and replaced by a probation period..." were the words that Harry was waiting to hear. The same words let loose a wave of devastating rage in the courtroom. Screams of insults and threats, some addressed to Draco, some to the much too lenient Wizengamot made the level of noise surge beyond what Harry's ears could take. The clank of the chains as they fell from Draco's arms sank in the deafening uproar.

Draco walked back to his mother with a faint smile on his face. Narcissa stood up to embrace him. The reporters were getting ready to dive on their prey, choosing between the Weasleys, the Bells, the Malfoys and Harry, when Ogden suddenly asked for everyone's attention, his voice magnified again.

"I hereby remind you that the hearing is still open. Another case has been added to our today's agenda at short notice, and I would like to give the floor to Ms Scarlett Kaye."

"Thank you, sir," replied the witch with the burgundy bun. "Mrs Narcissa Malfoy, you are arrested on the suspicion of commissioning murder. Please, deliver your wand to our clerk and take your seat on the defendant's chair."

The room fell silent again at once. Narcissa froze to the spot, still in Draco's arms.

"Mrs Malfoy, please, come forward and give up your wand," said Ms Kaye calmly, and the guards who had taken Lucius away and had reappeared in the meantime, pointed their wands at Narcissa.

Narcissa did not stir, Draco's arms tightened around her back, and Mr Knox made a beeline for the first row of the Wizengamot. He was delivering an agitated but hushed tirade, from which Harry could only catch some unrelated fragments like 'premature', 'statutory period' and 'paragraph 241'. Kingsley gestured to Knox to come over to his side and explained something. When Knox turned around, his eyes full of shock met Harry's first, then Draco's, then Narcissa's. He shrugged helplessly.

Draco didn't hurry to loosen his grip. Narcissa freed herself from his embrace with an effort and walked to the middle of the room. Knox came fluttering around her as the clerk took her wand and seated her on the chair in the middle. Their frantic whispers sank in the murmur of the courtroom. The chair's chains closed tight on Narcissa's wrists and elbows.

"Mrs Malfoy," Ms Kaye said when Knox finally let go, "our investigation has established and it is no secret to the general public that on the thirtieth of June last year, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was murdered by Severus Snape in the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts. As of today, we have compelling evidence that Snape carried out this brutal act under an Unbreakable Vow to you, which makes you the commissioner of the crime and, given the extraordinary power of the bond, the effective murderer. Can you comment on this?"

"No," replied Narcissa in her usual haughty manner.

"Sixty-seven Spinner's End, Cokeworth. Does this address sound familiar to you?"

"No," replied Narcissa.

"Perhaps, it would help you remember if I say that that address belonged to deceased Severus Snape?"

"Yes, of course. My sister took me there once," replied Narcissa.

"Your sister Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"Yes." And the courtroom filled with hateful whispers.

"According to our records this must have been on the twelfth of July 1996."

"It was in July, yes. I can't remember the exact date."

"What was the purpose of your visit?"

"Nothing in particular. Severus invited us for a glass of wine."

"Did Severus Snape promise you anything in the course of the evening?"

"No. I don't know. Maybe, yes. He promised to keep an eye on Draco, while at Hogwarts. To keep him out of trouble."

"Did he swear an Unbreakable Vow?"

"No!" Narcissa said forcefully.

That was a lie. Harry could remember vividly the conversation between Draco and Snape he had overheard in the sixth-floor corridor when he sneaked out of Slughorn's Christmas party to follow them. He could remember Snape tell Draco that he had made an Unbreakable Vow to his mother. But what was the Vow about? To protect Draco? To assist him? That Harry could not tell.

"Let me ask a different question, Mrs Malfoy. Who was present in the house at sixty-seven Spinner's End during your visit?"

"It was just me, my sister, and Severus," Narcissa said. "And Wormtail, of course. Peter Pettigrew. He was there, too, but he didn't have drinks with us."

"How convenient that all these people, except you, Mrs Malfoy, are dead today, isn't it?"

"Objection!" exclaimed Knox. "The question is suggestive. Ms Kaye is trying to intimidate my client!"

Ogden gave her a stern look.

"Withdrawn." Kaye paced up and down in front of Narcissa. "It just so happens that there was one more person in the house, of whose presence you were not aware. And that person has kindly agreed to relate the events she had witnessed." Scarlett Kaye looked up at the audience. "I present the witness of the prosecution—"

—whose name she did not say, and the small smelly witch who was sitting in front of Harry rose and walked down to the front.

"Hope she has a lot to tell, so we get a bit of fresh air," whispered Dean.

The witch made the most bizarre impression. Her hair was grey. The skin of her face, as far as Harry was able to see it when she was leaving her seat, was that of a middle-aged woman. But she walked like a young girl.

"Please tell us your name and address," asked Kaye.

"My name is Miushe. I have no address, I'm homeless," said the witch with a clear melodic voice and an accent that resembled Viktor Krum's but was not quite as heavy.

"What is your last name?"

"Miushe is my first and last name," she snapped. "I have no other name."

"All right, Miushe, can you tell us if you have seen this witch before?" Kaye gestured towards Narcissa.

"Why, yes. In Cokeworth, in that one house where I stayed."

The chains clinked as Narcissa stirred in her chair.

"Why were you staying in that house?"

"I was homeless. I used to sneak into houses, Muggle houses, and spend nights there. I hid between things."

She stopped, waiting for a question. Kaye gave her a nod.

"So I was staying in that house," the witness continued. "I didn't know a wizard lived there. It was full of books. So I pretended to be a book."

"What do you mean you pretended? Did you transfigure into a book?" But the witch did not seem to understand the word 'transfigure'. "Did you turn yourself into a book?"

"Yes, Ma'am. That's what I did."

"And what did you see and hear when this witch," Kaye pointed at Narcissa again, "was in the house?"

"They were drinking, and quarrelling. She was crying. Asked the wizard to help her, but he was quarrelling with the other witch all the time."

"What were they quarrelling about?"

"Some bloke. The Dark Lord they called him. And another bloke. Doorbell... Doorbelldumb or something."

"Could it have been Dumbledore?"

"Could of. Yeah, that's the one."

"And then, did the wizard that lived in that house promise to help this witch?"

"Yes, he did. But she wasn't happy. She wanted him to do some magic."

"What kind of magic?"

"What do I know what kind! They held their hands like so," the witness stretched out her arm, "and the other witch fussed with her wand around them, and then a red snake came out and went around their hands like it caught a fat vole."

The courtroom was silent, taking in the news.

"Now, Miushe, this is very important. Do you remember what Mrs Malfoy, this witch, said when they were holding hands?"

"Yeah, sure. First she said he should watch her son and see that he don't get into any shit."

"And then?"

"And then she said, if he's a pussy, then you must kill that doorbell bloke."

The room gasped, and Narcissa said loudly, "That's a lie!"

"What exactly is a lie, Narcissa?" asked Kaye.

"I never said that! I never told him to kill a doorbell bloke!"

"Perhaps, you used a different wording?"

Narcissa didn't reply.

"Mrs Malfoy. There is a simple way to find out whether the witness is lying. Miushe kindly offered to share her memory with us. So we all can see what really happened."

At this moment Knox jumped to the front again and requested a break. When his request was granted and the level of noise in the courtroom sky-rocketed to the extent that Harry could hardly hear what Dean was trying to tell him about the procedure of inspecting liquid memories in court, Knox conversed with Narcissa first, then with Draco. Draco turned around and was scanning the rows until his eye met Harry's. There was fear and a plea in it. It looked like Knox was about to walk up to Harry, but Ogden called for everyone's attention again and resumed the hearing.

"I have a few questions to put to the witness," Knox announced.

Ogden nodded his permission.

"You told us, Mrs... Miushe, that you were disguised as a book during the conversation between my client and the wizard and the witch in that house. Could you tell us which book you were disguised as?"

The witness stared at him for a while.

"One on top of the pile on the floor next to a rat hole."

"What was the title of the book?"

The witch remained silent.

"Can you read, Mrs... Miushe?" Knox asked.

The witch shifted from one foot to the other, but kept her mouth shut. A wave of whispers ran through the courtroom.

"Madam, sir," Knox addressed Kaye and Ogden, "I seriously doubt that someone who cannot read would be able to transfigure into a book."

"Perhaps we could ask our witness to demonstrate her trick?" Kaye said. "If she could turn into that book and we could see that same book later in her memory. Could you do that, Miushe?"

"Sure," said Miushe with malicious pride, and a second later a thick battered paperback volume with a colourful cover dropped with a thud on the floor.

A fireworks of flashes from the reporters' cameras and astonished whispers "Wandless magic!" filled the courtroom. Southill, who had been, again, borrowed as a technical assistant, due to her skill with everything that had levers and buttons, came closer with her camera for a better shot. Mr Knox looked at the book with a sneer.

"Comics? What an unlikely item for Severus Snape's library!"

He unceremoniously picked up the book and opened it.

"Mr Knox! Put the witness back immediately!" Tiberius Ogden said, but before Knox could let go, the book transformed back into the witch, who planted her claw furiously into Knox's eye. With a bleeding eyebrow, he apologised and accepted the warning to be expelled from the hearing if any such transgression were to occur again. Nevertheless, he seemed pleased with what he did. The split second the book was open in his hands was enough for everyone to see that its pages were blank.

"One last question to the witness, if I may," Knox said. "Will we see this book, when we look through your memory?"

"Sure!" the witness hissed venomously at him.

"All right," said Scarlett Kaye. "It seems that a brief inspection would help us resolve this issue. Mrs Malfoy, whose memory should we take, our witness's or yours?"

Southill was already installing a Pensieve on a high tripod in the middle between Narcissa's chair and the Wizengamot. But Narcissa softly but clearly said, "No."

Knox froze. Scarlett Kaye batted her eyelashes.

"What do you mean, Mrs Malfoy? You do not want us to view the memory?"

"No," repeated Narcissa.

"So you do not wish to contest the testimony of the witness?"

"No," Narcissa said again.

"Narcissa, I don't understand," whispered Knox.

"Very well," Kaye said. "In this case we have to rely on the words we've heard, which present an accurate description of the charm in question, and evidence of the defendant's intent to have Albus Dumbledore assassinated. We'll have to work from there." She turned to the witness. "Thank you, Miushe, you've helped us tremendously. You may return to your seat."

"Oh no," Dean said in dismay, "I had hoped for more of a show." But Harry had already stood up and was walking down the aisle between the rows, his gaze fixed on the bizarre creature that was walking in the opposite direction. Their eyes met as they passed each other. She might have been the only living witness and Snape might have been dead, but what he had told Harry before he died filled everything that happened after with a different meaning.

"Harry Potter, witness of the defence," Harry announced, as he arrived in the centre of the courtroom. Kingsley glanced up and gave Harry a long unreadable look. Knox stared incredulously. He had warned Harry a hundred times not to take the initiative during the hearing, but didn't seem to mind this time around. Tiberius Ogden looked curious.

"Mr Potter? You are very welcome."

"I don't know, I cannot know what happened in Cokeworth two years ago. But I do know of two other events which I believe should be taken into account if we want to be fair with Mrs Malfoy. One of those events happened before and one after that conversation in Cokeworth. I'd like to start with the latter."

He was not prepared to give a speech, and he wished he had been paying closer attention to how the Death Eaters' defenders presented their arguments in the trials over the last month, but there he was, without Knox's questions, feeling compelled to speak on behalf of a person he disliked but to whom he owed his life. If Draco was able to draw credit from his alleged 'sabotage' of Voldemort's cause, then Narcissa deserved it all the more. That was Harry's understanding of justice.

"On the night of the battle, when Voldemort demanded me in return for the lives of those who were fighting to defend Hogwarts, I went to the Forbidden Forest, where he was waiting. I went to get myself killed by him, because I believed—I learnt from a memory Severus Snape shared with me seconds before his death—that I was a— that I was carrying a piece of Voldemort's soul." This should have been no news, after the endless reports he had delivered on Potterwatch, but the audience gasped anyway. "And there was no way of destroying him completely, without destroying me first."

Harry listened to the silence.

"So I went, and I got killed by him. That is, he cast a killing curse on me, and it hit, and I fell. But luckily, the curse didn't hit me, but the Voldemort inside me. I was extremely lucky that I was still alive, and I'm sure, it would have taken just another killing curse, or just a friendly kiss from his snake to finish me. But he never bothered to, because he thought, he was convinced, that I was dead."

Harry paused to take a breath.

"Now, he didn't simply assume that I was dead. He sent Narcissa Malfoy to check if I was. And of course, she could see immediately that that was not so. We even had a little chat about Draco, as far as the circumstances allowed. And then, she lied to Voldemort that I was dead."

Another gasp, and the audience held its breath again.

"She didn't say she wasn't sure. She said plainly that I was dead. She lied. And from the stories we've heard in the trials over the last few weeks we know how dangerous it was to lie to Voldemort. Mrs Malfoy's lie saved my life, and who knows where we all— Anyway, if what he did after the crimes he was accused of made a difference to Draco Malfoy's sentence, then I believe it should also make a difference to Mrs Malfoy."

Harry was stuck for a while and did not know how to continue, but Knox sprang in with a long comment full of legal jargon and numbers of paragraphs which Harry would never be able to remember. When he finished, Harry trusted that the issue had been handled in sufficient detail, and moved on to the next point.

"The second event that I wanted to tell you about, which was really the first, because it happened before the meeting in Cokeworth, was a conversation between Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore which I saw in the memory—" Harry could hear unrest among the Wizengamot, but he was now standing with his back to them, facing the audience. "The same memory from which I knew that I was a— that I had to die in order to defeat Voldemort. Albus Dumbledore wanted Snape to kill him, he authorised him, he charged him with the task of killing him—"

"Mr Potter." He heard a voice behind him. The expression on Knox's face said, 'Stop it, or you'll ruin it all'.

"—because he was dying of the effect of another curse he suffered while—"

"Mr Potter," it was Kingsley's voice this time.

But Harry continued talking over repeated calls from the Wizengamot.

"—and he trusted Snape to end his suffering in a more humane way than Bellatrix, or Greyback would have done. And, Snape promised him to do it." Harry finished, and was ready to submit to the scorn he expected to pour over him, but Knox decided to make the best of it and sprang to the front with a tirade that left no space for interruption.

"And since the existence of a prior commitment to the same act preempts the act of promise, whether or not strengthened by a magical bond, the final part of the Unbreakable Vow, whether or not given by Severus Snape to Narcissa Malfoy at Spinner's End Cokeworth was both legally void and magically futile, which amounts to the effect that no Vow was given."

The courtroom roared. Ogden's reply sank in the bawl of the crowd. The magnified voice of none other than the Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt droned in everyone's ears with deafening power.

"The Wizengamot will take into account your testimony, Mr Potter, to the extent that it is based on your own immediate experience, but I remind you that the authenticity of Severus Snape's memories could not be established."

The clamour didn't wane. With a hysterical fury in his eyes, Knox was going in circles between the Wizengamot and Narcissa, not shutting up for a second. Harry and Kingsley looked at each other over the heads of the agitated crowd. The expression on the Minister's face was saying, 'Are you mental?', but then he looked like Kingsley again. 'Well done!'