In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 42: Diamonds
It was still Wednesday morning as Hermione watched Harry walk back into the room. She followed. Harry sat on the edge of the bed.
"Gonna pack?" Hermione asked.
"In a few," Harry said.
"Might want to wait on that," Richard said as he entered the suite, "Sorry, but I called Mum after I called the Noigate airport. It's lousy weather—likely all day. Best if we flew back tomorrow."
"Serious?" Harry asked.
"On my honor," Richard said, "Mum's okay with it."
"I'll go down to the front desk," Harry said as he stood, "Extend the reservation. Hermione, join me downstairs for a trip up the slopes."
Harry left the room.
"Seriously, I'm fine with it," Richard said.
Hermione dressed, put on her ski boots, and slipped her wand in. She left the room and met up with Harry in the lobby.
"Got the room for another day," Harry said, guided her outside, "Think I'll give these another go."
Harry grabbed his skis as Gia and Jen came over; poles in their hands.
"Gia?" Hermione asked before she drank her coffee.
"Whoa—whoa!" came the holler.
Ron came down the slope fast, headed straight for a tree. His hands clutched his crotch.
"Ow—ow!" Ron griped.
Harry laughed.
"Shut up," Ron snapped.
"It's your fault," Hermione snapped at Harry, before her eyes came back to the blue eyed blond haired friend.
"What?" Ron asked.
Hermione and Gia went for the lift.
"What's up?" Gia asked.
"We—your boyfriend got us charged with murder!" Hermione snapped.
"What?" Gia asked.
Hermione explained the note.
"It didn't work?" Gia asked, "All this—and it didn't work?"
"No, it didn't work," Hermione said, "Our only chance is a trial—those aren't great in our world."
"That's why you're mad at Harry?" Gia asked.
"I've been mixed up in Harry's business for ages," Hermione said, "Still…"
"How do you think he feels?" Gia said, "Took him forever to bang me given what he knew, knew it'd forever bind me into his affairs…for proof of that, see the charges."
"I…" Hermione stopped, knew Gia to be right.
Gia watched Thursday morning as Harry woke to Hermione shoving on him.
"Hurry up," Hermione said, "Thought you wanted another chance—"
"It's good snow and good weather," Richard said, "We've got enough time to sneak in a run or two."
"Last chance," Gia said, as she knew Harry would be disappointed otherwise.
"Come on," Ron said.
Gia watched the boys as they left.
"I don't like being treated like a maid," Jen said, "Easier to pack with them out of here."
"It's been…fun," Hermione said.
Gia caught the frequent glances of Hermione at Jen, before the wand was used for short bursts of packing.
"They brought a lot of stuff," Jen said, "Even your brooms."
"Their brooms," Hermione said, "A tradition—too much to explain."
"I still love them," Gia said.
"Can you get them to understand?" Jen asked, "That we shouldn't have to pick up after them?"
"Been trying for years," Hermione said as she picked up the Currents of Time, "So Harry brought this?"
"Nah, seems like something Richard would bring," Jen said, "Seems a tad dated."
Gia handed the book over to Jen.
"Another run after this?" Gia asked.
"I'm all skied out," Hermione said, "Agree with you, though, let them get it out of their systems."
…
Harry, Ron, and Richard reached the top of the slope, at the top of the last lift. They slowed to a stop where the trail split into two. To their left, a single black diamond, while the right had a blue square.
"Left or right," Richard said, "We'd have time for a second run if we take the harder trail."
Ron, though, caught Harry's glance, in between the two signs, where a sign was covered in black plastic, with several horizontal two by fours that barricaded off a third rough trail; red diamonds nailed across the thing.
"Try for two more," Harry said.
"No!" Ron snapped as Harry pushed off.
Harry ducked low, avoided the red skull on the barricade, and went down the center trail.
"Too late," Richard said as he moved for the left trail.
Ron went right, Richard changed and followed Ron down the blue.
"How bad is it?" Ron asked.
"Dunno," Richard said, "They don't close them lightly."
Ron weaved, and kept going.
"You enjoyed this holiday," Richard said.
"Yeah, fun," Ron said, "Broom's a bit nicer, but still, fun."
"I can't understand the broom," Richard said, "I know you and Harry can fly with them."
"These skis are more dangerous," Ron said, "Bit more challenging—give you that, but you can't do as much on these as you can with a good broom."
A right, a left, and snow sprayed from their skis as they banked.
"Should get back in time for dinner," Richard said, "You've got—a trial on Friday?"
"Yeah," Ron said.
"Mom testifies for those a lot," Richard said, "Part of her job."
"Fair?" Ron asked.
"Usually," Richard said, "Take it that you're not so certain?"
"Nope," Ron replied.
More snow, they rushed past a slower crowd, sirens came from the distance.
"This holiday's been a nice distraction," Ron said.
"Ta," Richard said, "Race ya."
Richard gave more speed, cut the corner. Ron followed a tad slower, his eyes transfixed by the whirling blades of a helicopter above. Ron understood his Dad's fascination, that muggles could make machines fly without magic.
Minutes passed until Ron was at the bottom of the slope, and he spotted Hermione's glare as she left the lodge. Ron went for the ski lift, however, Hermione beat him to it. Her angry brown eyes on him.
"Whose bright idea was it for Harry to take that ski trail!" Hermione exclaimed, "It's marked off limits—"
"Wanna take it?" Ron asked.
"HARRY DID!" Hermione said, "Thanks to your oh–so–nice–help in not stopping him, he's under the care of the ski patrol."
"He is?" Ron asked.
Hermione grabbed Ron's left elbow, pulled him toward the lodge.
"Thought you were his friend," Hermione said, "Could've saved him from the on–the–spot penalty for ignoring—"
"I'm not his nanny and he wouldn't listen," Ron said, "Where is he?"
"In the lodge, you'll see what's your fault," Hermione said, "His leg's definitely busted up."
"Oh," Ron muttered as he removed his skis.
"Best to carry those," Hermione said, "We're not staying."
Ron carried the skis in, where Jen ran up to them.
"Ambulance left a moment ago," Jen said, "Gia's with Harry, and Richard's—well."
Ron followed to the front of the lodge, where Richard already had their things on a cart.
"Thank us for packing earlier while you were busy injuring Harry!" Hermione snapped.
"Harry insisted!" Ron stammered, took her glare.
"Courtesy Shuttle's almost ready," Richard said.
Ron carried his skis out the front, his ski boots still on his feet.
"Put them in—" Richard said, pointing to the ski–bag.
"Oh," Ron said, thinking he'd use the backpack instead.
"Jen's getting suspicious," Richard whispered into Ron's ear.
Ron recognized Harry's broken skis with their black racing stripes.
"Got what you need?" Richard asked as the shuttle showed up.
"Hermione?" Ron asked.
"We packed everything," Hermione said.
Ron shoved his ski boots into the backpack, felt the snow beneath his toes before he boarded the shuttle.
"Got your mobile?" Richard asked Hermione.
Hermione nodded as the shuttle moved down the valley. A few minutes later, it pulled in front of the concrete building, a few floors high.
"Me and Jen are going to the airport," Richard said, "Do the preflight—that sort."
Ron and Hermione got off the shuttle. They went up the several steps to the front of the hospital.
"They're not—" Ron started.
"Unless you feel like hauling all of the luggage around," Hermione said.
"Sorry," Ron said as he held the wooden door open, "We tried reasoning with Harry."
"Sure, blame the victim," Hermione snapped as she entered.
Ron approached the reception desk with a nurse behind it; Truax was embroidered on her shirt.
"Bonjour, comment puis–je vous aider?" Truax asked.[1]
"My friend was just brought in," Ron asked, "Where is he?"
"Désolé," she said, "Je ne peux pas vous comprendre, veuillez le répéter."
"From the skiing accident," Ron's voice boomed, "A Harry Potter."
Brown eyes glared from beneath the blond hair at him. Ron sensed the irritation, but he wanted to know where Harry was.
"Imbécile arrogant!" the nurse said, "Pourquoi devrais–je prendre la peine de vous aider?"
"I'm looking for Harry Potter!" Ron shouted.
"Cochon égoïste!" Truax stammered, "Je ne t'aide pas!"
"Pardon me, Ron," Hermione said as she pushed Ron aside, stood in his place. "Mon ami, Harry Potter, est dans cet hôpital. Où est–il?"
"Just a moment," the nurse said as she glanced at a clipboard, before she typed at the keyboard of the computer, "Wait here, it'll be a while."
"How long?" Ron asked.
"Combien de temps?" Hermione asked the nurse.
"He's with the surgeon now," the nurse said, "With compound fractures—like I said, you're going to have to wait."
Hermione tugged on Ron, and they sat.
"She could speak English!" Ron exclaimed.
"Insisting she speak it is like making you speak French in London," Hermione said.
Hermione leaned into Ron as they waited.
Professor Lupin entered the Headmaster's office, a letter in his hands along with a roll of parchment. His eyes bore onto Professor McGonagall.
"I appreciate the summary of events while I was…indisposed," Professor Lupin said.
"You can help guard the door," Professor McGonagall said, "Poppy is upstairs."
"I see," Professor Lupin said, "I received news from my friend…Harry did not show up last night, as planned."
"Mr. Potter dare not be late," Professor McGonagall said, "Albus has seen to the legal details, a portfolio along with a list of witnesses has already been provided as required."
"About that," Professor Lupin said as he approached the desk, turned around. "I understand some students have been planning to attend."
"Friday is a day of lessons," Professor McGonagall said, "No absences have been approved, apart from Mr. Potter and his friends."
"I think it'd be wise to allow some of the students to attend the trial," Professor Lupin said, "Despite the apparent favoritism of a holiday, seeing the alibis in full would bolster Harry's case with the students."
"They can read about it in the The Daily Prophet at their leisure," Professor McGonagall said.
"I agree with Remus," said Professor Dumbledore as he came out of the upper door, "Perhaps it would be wise to let some of the students witness the trial and see the facts as they are presented."
"Who did you have in mind?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Apart from the fact the Wizengamot will be there," Professor Lupin said, "We'll have to narrow it down without showing favoritism."
Professor Dumbledore handed Professor Lupin the sorting hat.
Gia watched as Harry's right hand grabbed the railing of the hospital bed, stood up. Cast on his entire right leg, another on his left arm, and bandaged wrapped around his bare chest. Harry gritted his teeth.
"Better?" Gia asked.
"What time?" Harry asked.
"Dunno, three or four in the afternoon, maybe?" Gia said, glancing at his bottle green eyes.
Harry grabbed a crutch, began to walk to the door.
"You need—" Gia started, "We're not staying?"
"Can't," Harry said.
Gia glanced at his butt covered by the hospital gown wrapped around his waist.
"Got everything?" Harry asked.
Gia felt his wand tucked between his wallet and hers in her purse. She got up and followed.
"The nurse—" Gia started as she tapped on her mobile.
"I'm safe enough to travel back," Harry said, "It'd look bad if I wasn't there in the morning, it'd let Dumbledore down."
Gia kept tapping out the message to Hermione, before they reached the middle of the hallway. Harry led the way onto the lift, leaned on Gia after she pressed the button. She glanced down at the tent pole in the gown.
"Here?" Gia said as odor of his armpit drifted to her nose, "Or in the waiting room?"
Harry chuckled.
"I was worried," Gia said.
"Sorry about that," Harry said.
They got off at the ground level. Harry used the crutches, headed for the waiting room. Hermione had her brown eyes on them, and a glare. A glare Gia had long since learned was a mask, one projected to try to teach her friend, to avoid the situations where joy could not be found.
"Was it worth it?" Hermione asked, a pen in her hand aimed at Harry.
"Can I go again?" Harry asked.
"We're late enough as it is," Richard said, nearby. In his T–shirt and shorts.
"Sign here," Hermione said, pointed to a clipboard, "The staff here will disavow any subsequent injuries or complications for you leaving against medical advice."
"A few minutes with Madam Pomfrey—" Harry started.
"Hurry," Richard said, "Debate it on the plane."
Harry signed.
"Come on," Ron said.
They went out to a waiting van, where Gia and Ron helped Harry get in. Harry leaned into Gia as the van moved, headed for the airport, the darkening partly cloudy sky above them.
"This way," Richard said as they slowed down in front of the small green building of the airport.
Gia and Ron helped Harry back out, onto his crutches. Harry winced as his bare foot hit the cold asphalt, it was already dark.
"It's not going to be bad, is it?" Jen asked.
"It'll take—longer," Richard said, "Lemme stop by the office, be a few minutes."
Jen led the way as Harry and Gia followed; Ron and Hermione behind them. Back to the covered parking stall. Took Ron a moment.
"Girls—back," Ron said.
Gia and Hermione climbed in, went into the back. Gia ducked her head beneath the cabin ceiling.
"Harry's short enough," Hermione said.
"His leg won't bend," Ron said as he helped lift Harry into the cabin, into the middle row.
Ron sat down on the right with Harry's head resting on his lap.
"Ready?" Richard asked as he climbed into the front right seat.
"Yeah," Ron said.
"Brace yourselves," Richard said, "Unorthodox, but can't be helped without taking out three seats."
Richard turned the switch, the engine roared to life, and he closed the door. They put on their headsets.
"How long will this take?" Hermione asked.
"Weather was great—this morning," Richard said, "Can't fly a straight line now—dawn?"
"Cutting it close," Hermione said.
"Like we always do," Harry grumbled.
Gia watched Harry and Ron as Richard taxied to the end of the runway. She felt the vibration as the engine roared to life, took them down the runway. She felt that sinking feeling as they pulled up into the air.
"This is perfect!" the Seeker exclaimed, "Potter's—"
"Azkaban will only make this impossible!" the Keeper retorted.
"I thought we wanted him—" the Seeker started.
"We can't exactly go begging to deliver our Lord what he seeks if Potter's behind bars," the Keeper said, "You've stirred up the hornet's nest alright. Chief Faatus has everybody riled up, demanding Potter be kissed! Nobody's afraid of a brainless idiot."
"Help Potter?" the Seeker spat.
"Lemme think," the Keeper said, "That fan club—still active, right?"
"Unfortunately," the Seeker said, "Not for long, Potter's still got some fans, even among the students of Hogwarts."
"That fan club might need to persuade the Wizengamot—" the Keeper said.
"Persuasion is my specialty," the Seeker said.
"Not the Imperius!" the Keeper said, "Gold's better. You've got hours to get the job done."
"Quiet!" Richard barked, "Think this is it."
Beneath them, a layer of fluffy white in the glow of Friday morning's sunrise.
"You don't—" Ron started.
"Shh!" Richard snapped.
It grew a bit darker, more ominous, as they descended through the plane. Richard's deep breathing came across the headset. A few bumps, side slips, they emerged beneath the layer, the streetlights still on below.
"Sorry—that was technically outside my license," Richard said, "Hope I simply get a warning for it, but we were trapped above the clouds on visual flight rules."
Richard banked the plane, revved the engine, brought them along for another twenty minutes, before they began to drop, glide toward the long strip of pavement. A hard bounce, and they came onto the runway. A slam on the brakes, and they slowed down, fast. Richard taxied over to the hanger, where Kurt Osborn was already waiting.
"Alright, here we are," Richard said as he opened the door.
Jen got out first. Ron helped Harry out. Hermione and Gia followed.
"Your Mum's at work," Kurt said, "And he doesn't seem well."
"Skiing accident," Richard said, "He gets the front, rest of us, squeeze in."
"Trade places?" Hermione asked.
"Don't have time," Harry quipped, the dash already showed seven thirty.
"Grangers first," Richard said, "Thanks Dad."
Kurt drove the car, through the roads, made it to Hermione's house in ten minutes; they got out.
"We'll stave off—" Ron started.
"Go," Harry said.
Ron and Hermione went first, through the front door, and entered the living room.
"Glad we could accommodate your busy schedule," said Professor Snape. Ron caught the glare, brought snow to his mind.
"Wasn't safe to come—" Ron started.
"My goodness!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed as Harry limped in on the crutches.
"Pomfrey can fix—" Harry started.
"Is it an emergency?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
Ron caught the blue eyes glancing at the grandfather clock, knew they were cutting it close.
"No," Harry said, "It's not."
"I don't have all day," said Cornelius Fudge as he tapped his foot.
"Need you to bear witness, again," Professor Dumbledore said as he conjured up three glasses onto the coffee table, "Severus?"
Professor Snape took out a vial, divided the smelly blue concoction between them. Harry grabbed the first one, snorted, gagged, before he gulped it down.
"Have any firewhiskey?" Harry asked.
Ron held his nose, a trick of Mum's, as he poured the bitter and foul contents onto his tongue. Ron fought the urge to vomit it back up as he forced it down and swallowed.
"Please sign," the Headmaster said as he held out a clipboard with parchment on top of a manila folder and quills in the inkjar.
Harry signed first, followed by Ron and Hermione. Professors McGonagall and Snape signed next. Cornelius Fudge signed before the Headmaster signed last. Professor Dumbledore slipped the parchment into the folder.
"Thank you Minerva and Severus," Professor Dumbledore said, "Cornelius, I also thank you—feel free to drop by in several hours. If you excuse me, we've got ten minutes to get there."
Fudge disapparated first. Professors Snape and McGonagall disapparated next.
"Your crutches, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said, "Better if you didn't have them, if you can help it."
Harry held onto Gia, they made for the fireplace. A toss of Floo Powder, and a shout, "Ministry for Magic!"; Harry and Gia vanished. Ron smirked, remembered Harry's expression that first time many years earlier, back when his Mum didn't understand Harry hadn't ever used it before.
"Come," Hermione said.
Together, Ron and Hermione stepped into the fireplace, shouted.
"Hey," Harry said as Ron and Hermione stepped out onto the marble floor of the grand hall lined with fireplaces.
A tapping of the cane, Professor Dumbledore escorted them. They went with the crowd, to the left, past the fountain, stopped at the security stand next to the golden gates.
"Wands," Professor Dumbledore advised as he handed his over.
Harry removed his from his arm cast. Ron and Hermione did the same.
"She's a muggle," Harry said of Gia, "On official business and assisting me."
They collected their wands. Harry limped while propped on Gia, past the golden gates into a smaller hall, and waited for the lift. A bit crowded, the lift took them down to level nine, and they got off. Professor Dumbledore guided Harry, Gia, Ron, and Hermione down the staircase.
Two minutes past eight, Harry limped on Gia into Courtroom Ten.
"You're LATE!"
[1]: French originally translated from English using Altavista's Babelfish in 2003. Google's translate is used to verify in 2020. Accuracy may vary.