Ron's POV

With all of the evidence laid out starkly in front of them, there was nowhere left for the truth to hide. Ron was brutally aware that there was no winning and no losing right now – the twisting pain in his gut just emphasised his sadness and his horror at the whole, sorry affair. He just wanted this to be over but at the same time he wondered what would be left once it was. This was truly the end now and, after today, they would all be expected to move on with their lives. This thought always caused panic to stir sickeningly in the depths of his stomach because, if the truth be told, he had no idea how to move on now. It didn't make any sense, but it had felt easier when there was still a known enemy to fight and he just felt a little lost now it was over.

The courtroom was nearly empty - the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione were the only people allowed in the spectator gallery. They had all chosen seats in the front row, behind the smooth wooden divider that separated the area from the courtroom floor. Ron was over on the far left, closest to the main doors. He wished they'd chosen to sit in a group rather than in one long line because he felt out on a limb, separated from the rest of his family and it was almost impossible to have a conversation with them without shouting. Not that anyone was talking right now – they were all sat in silence as they struggled to take in what they had been shown. Glancing down the row of chairs to his right, Ron saw that they every member of his family bore almost identical expressions of grief, shock and an almost bottomless sadness.

'Ron?' He felt Hermione slipping a shaking hand between his clenched palms. 'It's nearly over now. The jury will be back soon. Kingsley said it would be another half an hour twenty minutes ago.' In spite of her whispered volume, he felt sure that his entire family had heard her words and he was annoyed by her pestering.

'I know, I do have ears,' he retorted, not bothering to keep his own voice down, 'anyway, your hand's all sweaty, Hermione.' Ron extracted his hands from hers and wiped them deliberately on the knees of his robes before balling them into fists by his sides. Ignoring her wounded expression, he turned away, and looked back down the line towards his family. There was a small part inside him that hated himself for knocking her down when she was only trying to help but he was hurting himself too much to stop and, anyway, did she seriously not know how annoying her constant flapping could be? Couldn't she just leave him be? Charlie, who was sat on his other side, caught his eye and Ron saw his muted disapproval and felt his ears getting hot. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from snapping at his brother too.

'At least everyone knows that George was imperiused now, so his name will be cleared at any rate.' Percy, two seats along, said bracingly to Fred, breaking the silence again. Ron felt another spike of irritation at his brother's words, particularly when he saw Fred's already-haggard face falling even further. However hard he was finding this, he knew that his brother's suffering was on a whole other level. He saw that one of Fred's hands was gripped tightly around his mother's and the other was holding what looked like one of little Hope's plushie toys as if he was drawing strength from the little stuffed creature. Ron had to admit that he was surprised by how well his brother was holding things together – some of the evidence they had witnessed during the trial had been unbearable and Fred was still very fragile.

'We all knew he was imperiused Perce,' Ron said loudly, his voice cutting across the quiet in the room. He felt his ears getting even hotter as his entire family turned to look at him.

'I know that, Ron, we've all known that for months but now they can prove undeniably that he was compelled to attack Tansy which means…'

'Oh, shut up!' Ron interrupted, feeling his heat rising to a burning level. He felt sure that his discomfort was obvious to everyone and hated the fact that he was never able to hide his feelings because his ears would display the truth to anyone who cared to look at him.

'Ron!' He wheeled back to Hermione, even more irritated by her shocked expression.

'Don't Ron me! I just…'

'Calm down,' Mr Weasley said loudly, standing up and glaring the row towards his youngest son. He ran his fingers through his balding hair and then lowered his voice slightly. 'I'm going to get a cup of tea. Would anyone else like one?'

Tea. Ron suppressed a snort. Did his father honestly believe that a cup of tea was going to sort this out?

'Kingsley said thirty minutes…' Hermione began, faltering slightly as Mr Weasley smiled kindly at her.

'I'm sure they'll let us know when we recommence, Hermione. Right, who's coming with me?'

Ron slouched back in his chair as most of his family filed out of the row, leaving only Fred, three seats up, himself and Hermione. He wished that the two of them had gone too because he really wanted to be alone right now. It was stupid and unreasonable but even the sound of their soft breathing was enough to put him on edge today.

It had been a very long and very trying morning for all of them. The ten members of the Wizengamot had filed in on the stroke of nine o'clock and had taken their seats opposite to where the Weasleys were sitting in tense anticipation. In spite of the fact the room held only a fraction of the number it was designed to hold, Ron had instantly got the feeling of being in a crowd of people and had suddenly felt rather claustrophobic. He had swallowed a few times, and reminded himself to breathe slowly and evenly – the walls weren't closing in on him, in spite of how it might feel. Gawain Robards, Head of the Auror department, had then entered and had taken his place behind the majestically carved oak lectern. After a brief throat-clearing which Ron had felt to be excessive and a put on, Gawain had immediately set up the muggle video screen that was looped to the camera in Kingsley's office. Ron had been amazed by how clear the picture was as it flickered into life on the giant screen in front of them all – it was as if Tansy and Kingsley were actually in the room with them. Sometimes muggles really did know how to do things properly. He had briefly wondered if they could reappropriate the technology somehow for use in the wizarding world – Harry had told him that muggles used screens to televise their sports so perhaps they could show quidditch matches? He was sure that there would be a market for it.

He had been even more amazed when Kingsley had started speaking - the minister had introduced himself and then had introduced Tansy and his deep, calming voice had come through the muggle technology as clearly as if he was actually standing in the room with them. Gently, Gawain Robards had asked Tansy to stand up and confirm her name, date of birth and her plea. Ron had seen her visibly shaking as she took to her feet and, for several seconds, she had stared in silence out of the screen, her face white and her deep blue eyes haunted and scared-looking. Then, finally, she had managed to answer the Auror, her voice barely above a whisper but there nonetheless. The relief that had flooded through him at the sound of her voice had clearly been shared by the every person present in the courtroom and there had been a collective exhalation of breath. From then on, the atmosphere had seemed noticeably less tense.

The evidence had been presented cleanly and emotionlessly but it had, nonetheless, been brutal for all of them to watch. Once again the video, filmed secretly by Bellatrix Lestrange that terrible day over a year ago at Malfoy Manor, had formed a significant part of the evidence for the prosecution. This had been swiftly followed by Tansy's own memory, the one that had finally been found and extracted by Professor Snape a mere week ago. The memory had been beamed up out of a Penseive so that they could all see a three dimensional (if slightly transparent) tableau. Mercifully, when it was presented like this, they could not feel the emotion associated with the memory. Draco Malfoy and his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, had then been called in turn to the stand to give evidence. Ron still hated the sneaky Slytherin wizard but had to admit that Draco Malfoy really did appear to have turned over a new leaf as he was clearly trying to help them in every way possible. There was no hesitation in his statement and, at the end, he turned to where the image of Tansy was being projected onto the screen and told her how sorry he was for what had happened to her in his family's house. He had apologised again and again for being unable to help her at the time and had promised to be there for her in the future if she needed him. Ron and felt his lip curling at that one – Draco Malfoy might be Tansy's cousin but she definitely didn't need him and nor would she when she would always have the entire Weasley family supporting her.

Draco Malfoy's mother had been harder to crack and her answers had been stilted and monosyllabic but, even so, the same conclusion could clearly be drawn. It was clear to everyone in the room that Bellatrix Lestrange had placed the imperius curse on George Weasley, forcing him to attack Tansy and that Tansy, driven almost to the point of insanity by the prolonged abuse and torture, had momentarily lost control and had lashed out and killed him. There was really no other conclusion that could be drawn and Ron wondered what could possibly be taking the jury so much time. Were they deciding what punishment they had to inflict on a mentally scarred girl who had clearly not been in control of her own actions? The thought made him feel slightly sick.

'Ron?' Hermione's quiet voice cut into his thoughts and he swung round, his lip curling into a snarl.

'What is it now?' He snapped, making no attempt to even try to rein it in this time.

'Are you okay?' Hermione was visibly trying not to react to his negativity and this just irritated him even more.

'I'm fine, of course I'm fine.' He knew that his voice betrayed him - he didn't sound fine, and he stood up abruptly before she could question him again. 'I'm bloody brilliant, Hermione. We all are. Quit asking me stupid questions. I'm going to get some tea. Can't you just leave me alone?' He pushed past her and slouched out of the room, ignoring the hurt expression on her face. It didn't feel as good as he had hoped it would, taking out his anger on her.

Fred's POV

Fred felt his stomach clenching with anxiety as the ten members of the Wizengamot filed back into their seats. This was it. They had reached a verdict and they had done so in a surprisingly short amount of time. Surely, it would be like Kingsley had predicted - a cut and dry situation, more of a formality than anything else? He didn't want to even think that there could be an alternative because he didn't think that anybody in their right mind could punish someone so damaged and vulnerable. Tansy so obviously needed looking after.

'Good afternoon, thank you for your patience.' Gawain Robards said, standing up and nodding to the assembled Weasleys. His voice cut across the quiet of the room - it seemed as if everyone there was waiting with baited breath and although there was no need for amplification with the tiny number of people in the room, the Auror had used it anyway, and his voice echoed hollowly around the empty dais, bouncing off the stone walls. Fred looked down at his lap and concentrated on keeping his breathing slow and even, just like he'd been taught during his time on the mind ward. He felt his mother's hand tighten around his own and glanced at her face and was surprised to see that her eyes were clamped shut and she was mouthing something to herself.

'Before I ask the jury to give us their verdict, there is a… ah… a small matter to address.' The slight hint of a question in Auror's inflection caused Fred to look up in confusion at the other man – they had been told by him, mere minutes before, that the only thing left to do was for the Wizengamot to present their verdict. Then the trial would be over. It would all, finally, be over. Fred was perplexed by the expression of incredulity on the other man's face as he scanned the inter-departmental that had landed in front of him just before he spoke to the room. 'The time for evidence has past but I've just been informed that the defendant, Tansy Laverstock, has made it clear that she would like to speak in her own defence. I've decided to allow it.'

There was a collective gasp from the assembled Weasleys. Fred, himself, had drawn in a deep, sudden breath and he let it out in a long hiss, his earlier anxiety redoubling, and a slight nausea rising in his stomach. Why was this happening now and why had Tansy decided to speak when a decision had already been made? As both Kingsley and Gawain had predicted, there was only one possible outcome and she might even harm her defence if she spoke. Would she even be able to speak when it came to it? There were only a handful of people in the room and although Tansy was comfortable around the Weasleys, she had never spoken to all of them at once. There were also ten strangers and to Tansy, ten might as well have been a hundred. There was no way that she would speak. Fred couldn't believe that she would even consider trying. He stared fixedly at the screen where the moving pictures of Tansy and Kingsley had been shown during the trial, expecting it to flicker into life again, but it remained stubbornly blank.

The door to the courtroom suddenly opened and three people walked into the room. Tansy was flanked by a worried-looking Minerva on one side and by Kingsley Shacklebolt on the other. The Minister's expression hinted at confusion but he also seemed pretty calm and slightly curious, as if he had accepted this turn of events and was waiting to see how it would pan out. Tansy, however, looked terrified but resolved. Her face was white and her hands and lips trembled slightly but she walked determinedly across the stone floor towards them, clearly with a purpose that she intended to fulfil. She looked neither left nor right, seemingly determined not to look at the Wizengamot or at Gawain Robards and she ignored both the Auror's welcome and the uneasy whispers from the dais. She also didn't stop at the defendant's chair where the chains clinked greedily, as if anticipating their next victim, instead coming to a halt in front of the first line of spectator gallery seats, where the Weasleys were all assembled. Visibly shaking, she locked eyes with each of them in turn, before finally staring unblinkingly at the matriarch, Mrs Weasley. Fred felt his mother tensing slightly in her chair in anticipation.

To everyone's surprise, Tansy opened her mouth and, with no hesitation whatsoever, she began to speak in a tiny but clear voice.

'I don't like the term with diminished responsibility,' her quiet voice seemed to creep into the corners of the room. She needed no amplification - everyone seemed to be frozen in place, unmoving and holding their breaths. 'It seems to me as if it's just an excuse, a way of passing on the blame for what I did.' She gulped suddenly, her expression briefly flickering into one of such intense agony that Fred started forwards towards her involuntarily. He felt Percy's hand closing around his upper arm, pulling him back into his seat.

'Tansy, what do you mean?' Mr Weasley asked, his voice gentle and concerned.

'I don't want to pass on the blame and make excuses!' Tansy said fiercely, her eyes blazing suddenly in a way that Fred had never seen before. 'I was there and I remember what happened! I remember what I felt and what I was thinking…' She faltered slightly, visibly pulling herself together again. 'I remember that I wanted to hurt him… hurt him like he was hurting me even though I knew that he was imperiused! It didn't matter! I didn't seem to care! I…' Her hand flew up to her head, yanking suddenly at her hair and she stifled a gasp of pain. The pain seemed to help her focus because she carried on in a calmer tone.

'I'm so sorry!' Her eyes left Mrs Weasley's and raked each of them in turn again, before stopping on Fred. The pain in her expression was so raw that it cut him to the very core.

'Tansy, come on now. You're…' Minerva had taken a step forwards towards her adoptive daughter, her arm outstretched as if she intended to restrain the young witch but Tansy shook her head and backed away, her eyes still fixed pleadingly on Fred's.

'No! I haven't finished! I'm so sorry about George! I have to tell you how sorry I am… it's not enough. Sorry is not enough! I'm just…' Tansy seemed to fold in half at the waist, her arms suddenly clenched tightly around her midriff as if she was trying to hold herself together. When she spoke again, her voice was muffled with emotion. 'There's a darkness in me that I don't think I can control. It rose up and I… I killed him! It wasn't his fault! Nobody forced me! It was me…'

'Miss Laverstock, come now, it's okay…' Kingsley had stepped forwards and he tried to interrupt the girl's ramblings.

'No! You don't understand! I deserve to be punished! She knew it back then and it was true!' To Fred's horror, Tansy lifted up her fist and waved it at the Minister for Magic, who clearly had no idea what she was going on about. Even so, he heard a gasp of comprehension from down the row - Harry had clearly come to the same conclusion as he had. They both knew that the faint silvery lines, spelling out the phrase, I deserve to be punished still shone faintly on Tansy's hand if caught by the right light.

Red hot fury thrilled through his body and he was on his feet before he had made the conscious decision to stand. Shrugging off Percy's placating hand, he vaulted over the wooden divider and was by Tansy's side in an instant.

'I deserve to be punished. I'm sorry! I'm sorry!' Tansy seemed to deflate as he reached her and when he wrapped his arms around her, he felt her physically collapsing in on herself. It was a relief when he felt her starting to cry silently into the front of his robes.

There was more noise around him now as more people started to talk. Fred felt a hand on his shoulder and then another person was pulling at his arm. He ignored them all, concentrating solely on Tansy. Holding her as tightly as he could without physically hurting her, he half carried her out of the courtroom and into the corridor where he sat down on the nearest chair and pulled her into his lap. She felt tiny, almost childlike in his arms, curled against his chest while she sobbed uncontrollably into the front of his robes.

'Shhh, everything's going to be okay, I promise.' He must've said it twenty times before she finally pulled away from him and looked up into his face, her own face streaked with tears and mucus.

'What have I done Fred?' Her words were barely coherent but he read the question and the fear in her eyes.

'Shhh, it'll be fine.' Inside, he felt uneasy but he knew that he needed to stay calm in order to calm her down. Tansy pulled away from him again.

'I know that I deserve to be punished for what I did but… but the thought of leaving Hope without a mother…' She broke down again and Fred rubbed her gently on the back.

'You aren't leaving anyone.' He said firmly. 'You aren't leaving Hope and you aren't leaving me.' He hoped that the jury would come to the same conclusion – surely they could all see that Tansy was just an incredibly, incredibly damaged young woman who needed protection and not punishment? There was no darkness in Tansy, no matter what she said and believed herself.

'I second that.' Minerva's crisp voice came from the courtroom door.

'As do I.' Gawain Robards had walked up behind her. 'Tansy Laverstock, you are officially cleared of the charge. The jury have made a unanimous decision. You are innocent of the murder of George Fabian Weasley.'

Hi everyone, thank you for my reviews so far. Please keep them coming. We're nearly at the end of Tansy's story now which I'm finding hard to accept! I've got a few more things in the pipeline but writing without Tansy in it is hard!