𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖊

Act I - The Trials of Summer

Chapter 29 - The Trial Part 2

"That," Harry said, "was fantastic!"

He, Sirius, Joshua and Daphne were sitting in the Ministry cafeteria, having steak sandwiches. Or rather, he and Sirius were having it. Daphne was having sushi, while her father was content with a mug of hot cocoa. A cocoa-addict, Joshua was.

Daphne gave him a smug look. "I told you, Potter. My father is best at what he does."

Harry grinned back and looked at her father. "Did you know Marchbanks would vote in our favour? Was that what you meant about knowing the judge?"

"Partly." the man took another sip of cocoa. "Marchbanks is uptight and a staunch traditionalist, but she's fair. Your opening statements showed humility, a trait that younger generations rarely possess—"

Daphne stuck her tongue out.

"—and your demonstration of Family Magic and your claim as a Vessel paints you as a loyal follower of the Old ways, not to mention more worthy in her eyes. I expected Albus Dumbledore to do the right thing. Everything else just fell into place."

"You knew about the DMLE statement." Sirius asked, taking a bite from his sandwich.

Joshua shrugged. "Amelia Bones is tough, but fair. She says it like she sees it. If she thought Harry was guilty, he wouldn't have a trial. She'd have had him arrested on the spot."

"And the countersuit?" Harry asked.

"What about it?"

"You asked me about the previous events that happened at Hogwarts. Did you know that Umbridge woman was going to interpret them like that?"

Joshua smiled. "Good lawyers worry about facts. Great lawyers worry about their opponents. Fudge is cocky and devious. I knew that he, or whoever was representing him, would be along the same lines. I just needed to play the man, woman in this case."

Harry frowned. "I don't understand."

Joshua sighed. "The DMLE did not have a single bit of evidence against you. The only reason for the trial was Amos Diggory's murder charge. The 505 charge is worth less than the paper they drafted it on. If I filed a defamation charge earlier, it'd have looked like I was fighting a man that had lost his only son— a son who was a model student at Hogwarts, a Hufflepuff prefect, a potential Head Boy claimant, and the legitimate Triwizard Champion for Hogwarts. No matter how you put it, we'd have half the Jury against us from the beginning. So instead, I decided on an alternative approach. The Peverell claim bolstered the Jury's opinion of you right from the beginning, as did Dumbledore's awarding you with the title of Warlock. Suddenly you're someone prestigious, someone worthy in their eyes. That Albus Dumbledore himself opted to be your defence witness speaks volumes in your favour."

"So you let Umbridge demean him first," Sirius caught on. "You made her the bad guy."

"Girl," Joshua corrected with a laugh. "Every creation myth needs a devil. I needed Umbridge treated in a different shade than Amos Diggory." He placed the cup on the table. "Team Fudge now knows what's at stake. They've already shot themselves in the foot with the opening statement. They'll be cautious now. And Harry," he met his eyes. "Umbridge's going to play dirty. She will summon your friends and acquaintances, and twist their words against you. Make sure that you do not provide her any further ammunition. The less you speak, the less she gets. And whatever happens, Don't. Get. Angry."

Harry slowly nodded.

"Great," said the man. "You do that, and I'll take care of the rest."

"The Prosecution is all over the place," began Joshua Greengrass. "Madam Umbridge paints my client as delusional on one hand, yet calls him a murderer for burning Professor Quirinus Quirrel to death. My client Mr. Harry Potter has submitted his memories, Evidence 3A, as submitted to the DMLE. I also have a statement from a private individual, verifying the authenticity of the memory."

"Of course," Umbridge sniped. "No doubt offered out of their extensive experience."

Amelia Bones stood up from her seat, her eyes glittering with anger at the woman's tone. "It is the opinion of Emmeline Vance, Head Obliviator for the Ministry of Magic, Madam Umbridge." Her biting tone was enough to make the woman flinch. "I believe that your own Boss, the Minister of Magic himself, appointed Miss Vance to the position. If it hasn't faded into a blur of senility."

"Of course," repeated Umbridge. "I ask for your forgiveness, Madam Bones. And to Miss Vance, if she's present here. My choice of words was less polite than it could have been. Please do not take it as a slight upon your performance. I was just… a little shaken at seeing injustice happen in this hallowed chamber of law."

Clever snake. Establishing herself as oh-so-reasonable and understanding with the members of the Ministry. This woman was going to be a hard person to get past.

Joshua continued. "The Prosecution paints my client as a dark wizard because of him being a Parselmouth. To my knowledge, the Charter of the now extinct House of Gaunt holds Parseltongue as a Trait closely associated with its Family Magic. In fact, every member of that family had been Parselmouths. Unless Madam Umbridge is painting the entire House of Gaunt as dark wizards, it is a clear defamation of character."

This time, no one said a word in refutation. Joshua turned around and faced Harry.

"Mr. Harry Potter, kindly recount the events that happened at the end of your second year related to the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry gulped. "Uh, my second year. I… I kept hearing voices in the walls, voices that whispered about killing someone. It said it was hungry and it wanted food. Later I found out that it was a ruddy big basilisk travelling through the pipes."

"Preposterous!" claimed Umbridge.

"Evidence 3B. Again, verified by Miss Vance."

Several people in the jury snorted.

"We are wasting valuable time with these discussions," said Lord Nott. "This is hardly relevant to the trial."

"Then perhaps the prosecution shouldn't have brought it up," said an ancient crone sitting on the opposite side. Harry didn't know who she was either, but the large, stuffed vulture hat she was wearing made her appear oddly ominous.

"Regent Longbottom, Lord Nott," exclaimed Marchbanks. "Kindly allow the trial to go forward, uninterrupted.

"Yes, yes, interrupt me, why don't you!" said the greying matriarch. "It is alright when our fool of a Minister harasses a boy my Neville's age, but you're all so offended when he calls him out on it."

Harry blinked twice. This was Neville's grandmother?

Marchbanks gave the woman a jerky nod.

Harry continued. "I went to Gilderoy Lockhart for help, alongside my friend Ronald Weasley, and found the man readying to leave Hogwarts, instead of taking his role of DADA professor seriously and helping save Ron's sister. Several students were petrified that year and if not for my actions, Ginny Weasley would have perished. And what did Mr. Fudge do? He went ahead and imprisoned Hagrid, because the Ministry was supposed to be seen doing something."

Fudge growled.

"Chief Warlock," Umbridge objected. "The accused is slandering the Minister in open court. That alone is enough to sentence him for a minimum of six months in Azkaban."

"Then put me under Veritaserum," Harry shot back.

Umbridge smiled sweetly, ignored him and turned to Marchbanks. "The Prosecution wishes to summon Percival Weasley, Junior Undersecretary to the Minister."

"Allowed."

"The Court summons Percival Weasley to the Witness Box!" crowed the Reporter.

Percy came in and did so.

"Mr. Weasley," said Umbridge, "do you willingly consent to a veritaserum questioning?"

"On what grounds?" Percy asked obnoxiously.

"You've been part of the DMLE Interrogation team that questioned Mr. Potter. And you're, forgive me, Arthur Weasley's son. Mr. Potter's friendly relationship with your family is well-known. One might believe that you'd wish to save him, since he's your brother's friend."

Harry rolled his eyes. Percy save him? That'd be the day! He watched as Percy gave him a look of intense loathing before nodding in assent, at which Dawlish stepped forward and administered two drops of veritaserum into his tongue. Instantly, Percy's features went blank.

"Mr. Weasley, you were part of the team sent to Hogwarts to interrogate Mr. Potter over the events that happened on the night of the Third Task. Correct?"

"Yes."

"How would you describe Mr. Potter's behaviour during the interrogation?"

"He was unruly, and expressed scathing views about the Ministry."

"While under veritaserum?"

"Yes."

"Fully knowing that this was an official interrogation?"

"Yes."

"Fully knowing that he was facing multiple murder charges?"

"Yes."

"And did he show any remorse over the fact that he had probably cast an Unforgivable?"

"No."

"And he displayed such insolence while under veritaserum?"

"Yes."

"What other draughts or potions was he administered?"

"Calming draught."

"Could it be possible that someone had given him the antidote to those draughts before the session?"

Percy shook his head.

"Could it be possible that someone had given him the wrong draughts?"

Another shake. "I administered them myself."

"And what draughts or potions did you administer Mr. Potter?"

"Two drops of Veritaserum, and a vial of calming draught."

"As I understand, Harry Potter is a friend of your brother, Ronald Weasley. Perhaps, you did not administer the draughts correctly?"

Another shake. "I believe Potter is guilty."

At this, Umbridge beckoned Dawlish to come forth, who administered the antidote.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley. You may leave."

Percy bowed at Marchbanks, sent Harry a sneer and walked back to his position.

"Point to be noted," claimed Umbridge. "Not only did Mr. Potter display active resentment against the Ministry, he did that while under the influence of both calming draughts and veritaserum. Being under the influence of even one of them is enough to send the victim into an emotionless trance. I believe that alone is proof that Mr. Potter, among his other precociousness, has an uncanny ability to stay immune to veritaserum. I believe Mr. Potter used his immunity to Veritaserum to lie about what truly happened on the night of the Third Task."

She smiled at Harry victoriously. "Am I correct, Mr. Potter?"

Harry's insides did a nasty flip. He knew now, without a doubt, that the Peverell Family Magic made him immune to external magic. Fleur's draughts hadn't worked on him either, nor had those dark curses he had gotten hit with during the skirmish in Diagon Alley. And now, this bitch was using that to twist things against him.

"Chief Warlock," Joshua pleaded. "While I agree it might be possible that my client might display unnatural behaviour during his veritaserum interrogation, it does not, prove that he is immune to the serum, or that he lied."

"True, but it also sheds doubt on the conclusive lack of evidence, as the DMLE statement put it. In fact, it allows us grounds to demand a reverification of every single thing Mr. Potter has claimed under Veritaserum during his interrogation."

Damn it.

Joshua smiled. Even Harry could see the strain at the edges of his lips. Umbridge had gotten him good.

"Fine," said the man. "If we cannot trust my client's statements, let us consider the other witnesses. Unless, Madam Umbridge wishes to claim their testimonies as worth suspicion?"

The woman let out another girlish laugh but said nothing.

"I call upon my first witness," said Joshua. "Miss Fleur Delacour."

Harry turned around and saw Fleur walk out from the right, where he knew they made other witnesses to wait for their turn. She calmly stood on the witness box, ready to testify.

"Miss Delacour," Joshua began, "You were the Triwizard Champion for Beauxbatons. Correct?"

Nod.

"Can you describe the events that happened on the night of the Third Task?"

Fleur glanced at Harry for a moment. "We participants had to enter the maze at different times. 'Arry and Cedric were leading, so they started out together. Then Krum. And then finally myself. I had to fight several monsters and the maze to get through. And then, I faced Cedric Diggory, and he attacked me."

"Excuse me?"

"'E attacked me," Fleur emphasised. "It was not unexpected, since we were competing against each other, so I fought back. I believe we were on equal footing, when Diggory used the cruciatus curse on me."

"Preposterous!" claimed Amos Diggory from the Prosecution bench.

"Silence!" Marchbanks ordered. "I want to hear this."

Fleur turned towards her. "Madame, he used ze Cruciatus. I tried to fight it, but the pain was too great. I fell, and he kicked my wand away and left. If not for 'Arry…" she trailed off, giving another glance at Harry, "'Arry Potter came and saved me. 'E cast the patronus to protect me, and got me out of the vines, gave my wand back. I was unable to fight, so he cast red sparks for me, and went his way."

"And are you willing to verify this under veritaserum?"

"Oui."

She smiled at Harry, who nodded back.

Joshua turned to Umbridge. "Perhaps the Prosecution would like to ask the witness anything?"

"Yes…" said the woman, a sneer forming on her lips as she approached Fleur. "Miss… Delacour, you are a veela, are you not?"

"OBJECTION!" roared Joshua, "that has nothing to do with this trial and only serves to paint Madam Umbridge's bigotry and discredit Miss Delacour."

"Madam Umbridge," snapped Marchbanks. "Do not go there."

It was too late. The damage was done. Harry knew of the bigotry against Veela and other half-breeds. There would be those that would discredit her opinion, even if it was the truth. It did not surprise him to hear Joshua swearing under his breath. But much to his surprise, it was someone else that answered.

"Oui," said Fleur politely. A bit too politely. "I'm Fleur Isabelle Delacour. My father is Giuseppe Zabini, Italian ambassador to France, and my mother is Apolline Delacour. You are familiar with the name, oui? After all, your father Orford Umbridge served as my Maman's footman for years, before she took pity on him and landed him a job in Département de Maintenance Magique."

Umbridge went red. "How dare you, wench? My father was an esteemed member of the Wizen—"

"Your father was a floor-mopper," Fleur snapped. "Your mother was Ellen Cracknell, a non-magique. You should look at yourself before spitting on others, Madam Umbridge. I'm a veela, but at least, my parents are le magique. You? You're the child of a squib and a can't-spell."

The woman looked ready to curse.

She turned to face Marchbanks. "I'm an employee at Gringotts, and Vault enregistrement verification is my task. Zat's how I know. As for my mother, veela stop ageing after a certain number of years. My Maman recently celebrated 'er hundred and forty-sixth birthday."

That explained a lot.

"I've already submitted my memories to Monsieur Sirius Black, to be forwarded to Monsieur Greengrass. As 'as Victor Krum."

"Evidences 4A through C, Chief Warlock," Joshua clarified. "And no more questions. Unless the prosecution?"

Umbridge was shaking in fury, and too-out of it to even cross-question Fleur.

Harry started clapping. He couldn't help himself. It was too awesome.

Then he got the weird glances from Joshua and everyone else, and stopped and looked away. Fleur giggled and walked out.

"Chief Warlock," said Joshua, "Both Mr. Krum and Miss Delacour's memories showcase a single common factor. Cedric Diggory attacking them. For Miss Delacour, it was the cruciatus, an unforgivable. For Mr. Krum, it was the Fulminis spell. For those not in the know, it conjures a bolt of lightning that could cause scorching and scarring at minimum to permanent nerve damage and cardiac arrest, leading to death. I'm sure we all know, that the Bulgarians consider this as an attempt to murder. Miss Delacour's father is the Italian Ambassador to France, and highly respected in both nations. Employing the Cruciatus alone classifies for lifelong imprisonment."

Joshua exhaled. "I'm not saying that Cedric Diggory acted on his own accord. He is dead, and dead men tell no tales. However, if both Miss Delacour and Mr. Krum testify that something was wrong with Cedric, my client's claim about Cedric attacking him, petrifying him and portkeying him out of the maze, feels more authentic. I use the word 'feel' because as Madam Umbridge has stated, she will fight tooth and nail to disavow any statements my client makes, because of his… unnatural reaction to veritaserum."

Umbridge only glowered at him. No doubt Fleur's words had done more lasting damage than anything Joshua had thrown her way during the entire trial. Harry'd have to congratulate her later.

"Now," said Joshua. "Let us for a moment, consider that my client, Mr. Harry Potter, is indeed the delusional and power-hungry man that the Prosecution is painting him to be. Maybe he has a dark past, and he shares dastardly dark powers that rival a dark wizard that cannot possibly be resurrected. Maybe he is some monster that burned a professor, used parseltongue in public, obliviated a professor and inflated a muggle."

He turned to face Umbridge.

"Say, how did those purebloods go to that cemetery? Perhaps my client is so extraordinarily powerful that he can magically make people appear in that cemetery from the safety of their homes? People he had never even seen before? Oh, and make them play dress-up dolls with Death Eater robes and then fake a resurrection event?"

Umbridge's expression darkened. "If you are suggesting that a Dark Lord known to be dead for over fourteen years—"

"Please answer the question." Joshua interrupted, "This trial is about the death of thirteen purebloods by my client's hand. How did he do it?"

"We will never know the answer to that," Umbridge tried to counter. "Like you said, dead men tell no tales, after all."

"It is the reverse in this case. In my humble experience, the only one that speaks the truth in the crime scene is the body. And guess what we found on the bodies?"

He strode up, eyeing the entire court.

"Death Eater Regalia. All of them were wearing it."

"Yet none of them tested positive for the Dark Marks upon forensic testing!"

"A trivial non-issue," Amelia Bones intervened. "I have it cleared from the Department of Mysteries, the Forensics wing of the DMLE, and an independent forensics expert, that there was absolutely no trace of magic on their bodies. Whatever transpired in the graveyard, it leached out every single bit of magic from their bodies. They were, in fact, no different from a muggle corpse."

She let that one hang for a moment.

"Hang on," Umbridge interrupted, "who's the independent expert?"

"Classified," Amelia snapped coldly.

Joshua stood his tallest. "Chief Warlock, Lords and Ladies and the honoured Jury, we have discussed several aspects of this case. We have seen how the Prosecution did not have a leg to rest this case, so she defamed my client in front of the entire Wizengamot. We heard Miss Delacour's testimony, proved that Cedric Diggory was acting oddly, and have submitted evidence to that, evidence that individual professionals and the DMLE have validated. We have proof that the dead people found in the cemetery were indeed wearing Death-Eater regalia, again verified by the DMLE. The last piece to this puzzle, is centred around my client's forceful removal from the Maze in Hogwarts, to this cemetery grounds, and so, I call my third, and possibly last witness—"

Albus Dumbledore stood up.

"Amos Diggory."

There was a brief pause.

It was expected. No one would ever expect Amos on the list. Even Harry had to keep himself from gaping in surprise.

"Amos Diggory?" Fudge cried out in surprise, which was a surprise by its own. Throughout the trial, the man had kept mightily quiet, content on letting Umbridge run the show. If this wasn't proof that the trial going southward was getting to him, Harry didn't know what was.

"Chief Warlock, that man has lost his son to Mr. Potter's actions. He was not even present at the site, so I cannot classify his statements as proper testimony. Mr. Greengrass is simply fishing for weaknesses. I humbly beseech this body to consider the man's feelings and let him—"

"Please!" Sirius scoffed from the jury. "You don't give a rat's arse about the man's feelings." He paused, raising his arms in surrender. "Apologies, that's actually an insult to rat's arses."

The jury chuckled.

"My Lord, Lord Black's belittling doesn't carry any weight as per the rule of law."

"True, but what actually carries weight is that an investigation of this nature must be conducted with no duress." Joshua threw back.

"Your point?" Marchbanks inquired.

"Ever since this event, my client has faced persecution and blatant negative bias from the Ministry. Mr. Weasley has himself stated, under Veritaserum no less, that he believes Harry Potter to be guilty. Mr. Weasley was not even present at the Third Task, and despite that, he shows this hostility towards my client. We have seen just how blase and ill-minded Madam Umbridge's views had been about my client. Interestingly, Madam Dolores Umbridge, and Percival Weasley are the Senior and Junior Undersecretaries of our beloved Minister Fudge, the head of our bureaucracy. My client has been described with words like 'guilty' and 'murderer' when he should be referred to as 'Accused' and 'Suspect'. My client is demanding justice, and yet, the top officials of our legal system are spearheading the case against him. That, Chief Warlock, is the definition of duress."

Fudge narrowed his eyes. "Are you insinuating something, Mr. Greengrass?"

Joshua smirked. "Merely that I be allowed to question the witness I have called."

The room was dead silent. It was as if everyone there had needed the extra time to register what he had just said.

Fudge looked at Joshua murderously. Harry knew the man had several more cards to play against him, but Joshua's ploy had taken the wind off his sails and made him look like the bad guy. Pushing his luck would be akin to throwing a blasting curse in his own head to get Harry in the foot.

"As for my summoning Mr. Diggory," Joshua continued, "I am summoning him, not as the plaintiff, but as the Head of department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

The Court-reporter — Dullard, something — stood up. "This Court summons Amos Diggory. Please arrive at the Witness Box."

Harry couldn't help but clench his jaw as Amos Diggory trudged his way out of the crowd and walked to the witness box. The last time he had met the man, he was a boisterous, jolly man that took a lot of pride in his son's achievement. While he was still slightly pissed at being reminded of his only defeat in a Quidditch match, it was still somewhat of a novelty to be talked about in terms other than the Boy-Who-Lived business.

The man standing in the witness box was a twisted caricature of that man. The happy, prideful soul was gone, replaced by a grieving, broken man that sought solace in whatever little he could get. Harry stating that Cedric had attacked, kidnapped and portkeyed him out of the Hogwarts grounds was a slander on his boy's memory.

"Mr. Diggory," Joshua asked, "Is it true that as the Head of the RCOMC Department, you were actively involved in the buying of magical beasts — large and small, for the Triwizard Tasks?"

The man let out something between a cough and a whimper. "I was."

"Can you describe your role in brief?"

"Why are we wasting time on such nonsense?" Umbridge asked.

Joshua leered at her. "You drew a character sketch of my client as a defamation tactic in this court, calling it necessary. I find myself above such things. I am merely trying to paint a more accurate picture of the events that went on that night."

"And Amos Diggory's role applies to that?" Marchbanks asked.

"Chief Warlock, the event of the Third Task was an international event, and required the intervention of many influential individuals. I'm merely trying to point out the true breadth of the events that led to the massacre at the cemetery, which the Prosecution is — correction, was trying to pin on Mr. Potter."

"I assumed as much." Throughout the entire conversation, Griselda Marchbanks was writing notes and making her own assumptions. "And I assume you will want to question the other Department Heads for their testimonies as well?"

"If needed."

"Department Heads cannot simply be summoned at a whim. They have their own duties to attend to." Umbridge tried.

"Sometimes to find the truth, one must move mountains," Joshua smirked, "And weren't you painting yourself as the paladin of justice a while ago?"

More whispers echoed through the courtroom, with several people glancing at Harry with mixed emotions and curiosity. Fudge sat remarkably silent.

"Mr. Diggory, as you were about to say, please describe the type of task they delegated you as part of your duties for the Third Task."

Amos looked uncertain. "I — My Department oversaw the influx of several magical beasts of Threat Rank XXX and below, except for a Sphinx, which is an XXXX-ranked beast, for the Third Task."

"And you oversaw the transport of these beasts in the maze prepared for the Champions's Task?"

"Yes."

"What about protections? I'm sure the DRCOMC would have planned for contingencies should any of the beasts try to escape. I mean, there's the Forbidden Forest within reach of the Maze, and it was post sunset that the Event began."

"...Yes."

"Could you expound on that, please? The protections."

"This is going nowhere," Umbridge sneered.

"Mr. Greengrass, please arrive at the point fast."

"... I will, Chief Warlock," Joshua replied offhandedly. "Now, where were we? Oh yes, the protections. What were they like? Wards? Bounded Fields? Security Personnel?"

Amos's lips trembled. "Wards. And security personnel, just in case the wards crashed."

"So the wards could crash?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"Simply what I did," Joshua went on, a smile on his face. "Are you telling me that the DRCOMC placed wards they knew could crash?"

Amos slowly shook his head.

"Then why can't you say so? Mr. Diggory, you are a Department Head, but that does not override a veritaserum testimony."

More silence.

"Mr. Diggory—?" Marchbanks demanded, "Answer the question."

Amos looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "The wards were just as— as prescribed by the Regulatory Board, with one addition."

"And what was that?"

"They — We had to allow for portkeys to function through the wards."

The room was silent. Condemning.

"Why?" asked Marchbanks.

"It's common sense," Fudge cried out, growing angrier with every passing moment. Harry wondered why the Minister was so agitated at this line of questioning. Personally, he was curious about Joshua's angle here. The man hadn't discussed this particular bit with him.

"The winner was supposed to touch the Triwizard Cup and be portkeyed to the central dais."

Joshua laughed. "Not quite, but let's not take my word for it. Mr. Diggory, tell the Court, would it be possible for the Champion to be transported to the central Dais without allowing for Portkey functions in the wards you had set up to keep the monsters within?"

Amos stayed silent.

"Mr. Diggory, I have already submitted an exact blueprint of the ward schema employed for the Third Task. I have already had it checked and verified by the DMLE and an independent ward master. I know the truth, as do you. So if you lie, you'll be committing a major felony."

Amos shuddered.

"Answer the question, Mr. Diggory," demanded Marchbanks.

"...Yes."

"Then why did you have them?" Joshua pressed.

"Because—"

"Because what, Mr. Diggory?"

"Objection. Badgering!."

"Overruled! I want to hear this."

Joshua pressed on. "Mr. Diggory, what led you to leave openings for portkey functions within the wards?"

Amos was literally trembling now. "I got a missive. From the Department of Magical Transportation to — to do that."

"The Department of Magical Transportation, correction, was led by Cameron Yaxley?"

"...Yes."

"The same Cameron Yaxley that was found dead at the cemetery, wearing Death Eater Regalia?"

"...Yes."

Harry blinked in surprise. He certainly hadn't seen that coming.

Joshua turned towards the Jury. "Cameron Yaxley. Head of Department of Magical Transportation. The Head of RCOMC receives a missive to add portkey functions to wards that are supposed to keep creatures within. And then later, Cedric Diggory portkeys my client to a different location, where Cameron Yaxley was also present, wearing Death Eater robes. Now I can't question Mr. Yaxley, because again, dead men tell no tales."

More muttering.

He pushed, "But turns out there is someone that can answer these questions." he turned to Amos. "Mr. Diggory, I need you to answer one more question."

Harry saw Sirius sitting up straighter.

"I'm no expert," said Joshua, "but you're the Head of the RCOMC. You're not obligated to submit to any missives or demands from any other department, are you?"

Amos stayed silent for a moment before giving a small nod.

"Unless… was there a particular reason you agreed to it?"

Amos was now shaking.

"I… I don't—"

"You don't know?" Joshua hissed. "Allow me to refresh your memory. Evidence 4D, as submitted to Madam Bones, contains a memo from the Department of Magical Transportation, citing a note of 'permission' from the Office of the Minister of Magic, asking for allowance for portkey travel between wards. Evidence 4E is another signed note, 'authorising' the formal request made by the Department of Magical Transportation in the interests of 'efficacy' and 'ease of management."

"I object," Fudge cried out. "Amos Diggory isn't on trial. Harry Potter is. This is a vile attempt at trying to digress away from the court's attention."

"Overruled," Marchbanks snapped, "I want to see where this goes."

Fudge breathed faster.

Harry caught Madam Bones's eye and smiled. Bones had collected the evidence herself. Sirius had gone to visit her, and returned with those particular pieces of information. Ordinarily, this would require the Minister's explicit permission, but Bones had been crafty. She had simply gotten the information citing investigation into the people involved in the Triwizard.

If this trial ended in the way he expected it to, it'd be a win on multiple fronts. Amelia Bones had risked a lot for this trial, and it was up to Joshua to ensure she got what she paid for.

This is probably the best situation you have here, Harry.

Joshua strode to the centre of the stage again. "Evidence 4F contains a memo addressed to Mr. Amos Diggory, from the Office of the Minister of Magic, offering him a fully paid vacation to Greece for being a hardworking member of the Ministry. Again, signed from the Office of the Minister of Magic. The date on the memo is, interestingly, June 21st. The memo also references his hard work assisting the Department of Magical Transportation. "

Harry pursed his lips together. It would not do to laugh at Fudge. No matter how much he was imitating a tomato.

Nope. Nope. Nope.

"What—" Amos Diggory stammered, "No, I got that as recognition for my own hard work during my Ministry career!"

Joshua smiled at him predatorily. "Of course, which is why you have received none such 'paid vacations' in your entire forty-four years of Ministry service. Isn't that right, Mr. Diggory?"

The portly man at least had the decency to shut up.

"Objection! Leading!"

"It's not leading if I have proof!" Joshua asserted, "Evidence 4J, a copy of Mr. Diggory's records from the Ministry Treasury and the Department of Employees' Records. Mr. Diggory has submitted eight requests in the past, citing presumptuous reasons for tax exemption, demand for bonuses, and a pay rise in the last two years. The Minister's office rejected every single one of them."

Joshua turned towards the Chief Warlock. "We all understand what this looks like. Who is responsible for this mess, and how all of this was twisted to frame Harry Potter?"

Fudge was staring at him, his face white with fear. Harry observed that even Lucius Malfoy was glaring daggers in Joshua's direction, as were several other people sitting close to him. For a moment, he wondered if Daphne's words would come true. Had Joshua, in desperation, unwittingly made himself an enemy of the Dark Lord?

"A very sophisticated plot," said Joshua. "But we can see the light at the end of the tunnel. We can finally see who orchestrated all of this. Someone whose authority reaches the high echelons of the Ministry of Magic. Someone… who had both reason, time and the facility to aid Cameron Yaxley. Someone who has openly stated in court about his obvious dislike of Harry Potter."

Harry's eyes widened. Did that mean that—

Joshua turned and met Fudge in the eye. Fudge hesitated.

"That's all good and well, Mr. Greengrass," said Marchbanks, "but who was the one responsible for all of this?"

Joshua looked at the Chief Warlock in what was an obviously feigned surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought that was obvious. It was Percival Weasley!"

Harry actually had to clamp down his mouth hard to avoid yelling in surprise, as visible surprise, relief and confusion played across Fudge's face for a full second before he regained control of himself. Nearby, Dumbledore glanced sharply at Joshua and then at Harry himself.

He shrugged.

"It was… Weasley?" asked Marchbanks, looking at the young man who was staring in abject terror.

"Obviously," said Joshua, "I mean, he confessed, under Veritaserum no less, about his obvious dislike for Mr. Potter. Evidences 4D to F, all have Mr. Percival Weasley's signature on them. I think that falls under conclusive evidence, unless of course," he met Fudge's eyes, "We want Mr. Weasley questioned under veritaserum?"

"NO!" Fudge stood up. "No, I mean, that is conclusive evidence, and we have heard enough. This farce of a trial has gone on for too long, and the Ministry has unduly harassed Mr. Potter." Fudge did not, not once, look at the betrayed look Percy was giving him.

"I mean, certainly we did not know that it was Weasley that was responsible, his family is very close to Harry from what I know." He inhaled sharply and snarled.

"AURORS! ARREST THIS MAN RIGHT NOW!"

Harry gawked as Aurors Dawlish and Shacklebolt grabbed Percy by his shoulders and dragged him out of the court. It made no sense. None. Percy was a bootlicking douchebag, but he wasn't evil. And he had worked for Fudge weeks before the Third Task. So why was he saying anything? Even more surprising was that the young man never once tried to claim his innocence. Instead, he gave a betrayed look at Fudge and then hung his head low, allowing him to be dragged out. He wanted to demand an answer, but a stern look from Joshua shut him up.

"Now that the nastiness is over," Fudge exhaled, stumbling to the centre of the dais. "Chief Warlock, please proceed with the Voting."

"Those in favour of Harry Potter's conviction?" asked Marchbanks.

Harry felt something cold climb down his spine. This was the moment that would decide it all. He had given his best and now it was time to see the reaction. His eyes met Sirius's and found a strange, relaxing calmness in them, despite seeing several hands slowly rise. Lucius Malfoy was the first, followed by Nott and Parkinson and Avery. Oddly, the group sitting behind Malfoy looked strangely hesitant to act.

A thin sliver of hope rose in his throat, but Harry mercilessly crushed it. Just because these people hadn't voted against him wouldn't mean they'd vote in his favour.

"Twenty-eight votes," counted Marchbanks. "Those in favour of acquittal?"

This time Madam Bones raised her hand. As did Sirius, Daphne, Neville's grandmother and several more from the other sides. He saw Dirk Cresswell raise his hands, as did Arthur Weasley, looking absolutely shell-shocked, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. There was a lot of muttering, a lot of grunts among the audience, but the number of hands this time easily eclipsed the former.

"One hundred and four votes," Marchbanks declared. "Harry Potter is acquitted of all charges."

Harry felt like he could breathe again. This was over. He was free. He could finally—

"Actually," Lucius Malfoy spoke up. "There is something I'd like to verify before Mr. Potter walks out of this august hall as a free person."

"Harry is already free. You can conduct your verifications at your leisure, Lord Malfoy," Sirius responded testily. "It doesn't need to involve the Wizengamot."

And then Lucius Malfoy smiled.

Harry felt a shiver down his spine. What was the bastard planning now?

"Actually, it does," said Parkinson. "It is about the people he killed."

"My point exactly!" Lucius replied. The slippery snake that he was. "The Wizengamot has voted on whether he should be imprisoned or not, and yes, I have felt that given the circumstances, we should offer him a… second chance, as Albus Dumbledore would say. But that does not absolve us of considering the threat he represents."

Griselda looked absolutely annoyed. "Mr. Potter has already proven to be a Vessel. It is part of his Family Magic. To call his powers a danger would mean raising the same accusation against every single Noble family that wields Family Magic."

"I agree," said the Malfoy patriarch, looking absolutely unfazed. "And I apologise if I was unclear. I do not doubt the ethnicity of Mr. Potter's source of power, nor the legitimacy of its nobility. My only concern is about the threat it represents to our world."

"Really now, Lucius," Sirius snapped, giving a look of intense disdain to the Malfoy Lord. "You're debating on the dangers of Family Magic? You're practically muggle-born compared to truly ancient houses."

"I agree, the House of Malfoy does not belong to the Nobility," said Benjamin Nott, "But the Nott Clan does. And I believe I'd be very much interested in listening to Lucius."

"You're free to do so in your private meetings, Lord Nott," Joshua pointed out. "There is utterly no need to waste our valuable time on your philosophical discussions."

Harry clenched his hands into fists, seeing the situation devolve into an unending madness of people quarrelling with each other. This — why was this happening? The trial was over. Why then was Malfoy attempting this farce? What could he possibly gain apart from simply keeping him away from—

Harry froze.

No. His face paled. He wouldn't.

"Order! ORDER!" Griselda calmed them down, banging the gavel loudly. "In the interests of efficiency, I will allow Lord Malfoy to speak his fill. Be warned, however, if your words do not hold relevance to this body, I will fine House Malfoy for the contempt of this court."

"I wouldn't dare to," Malfoy did a portly bow before walking down towards the centre of the hall. He met Harry's eyes and sneered at him hatefully. Then, he turned towards the others.

"Lords and Ladies, we know that Harry Potter has used his Family Magic against the thirteen purebloods that perished on the perilous night of the Summer Solstice. I understand he did this in self-defence, but that does not unmake the fact that he was, and is, capable of robbing the magic out of their bodies, and perhaps, out of their very souls."

Mutters ran through the Wizengamot.

"Whatever Potter did to them, it stole their magic. Every. Last. Bit."

Harry's blood ran cold. He glanced at Sirius's face and saw the whitening of the man's cheeks. The Malfoy patriarch had kept things down till now, but it didn't make him any less dangerous for that.

Like throwing in a vote over the concern of having an individual with highly dangerous ability in a school of magic.

Lucius opened his arms wide. "This body is allowing Harry Potter to walk away scot-free. We are letting him free to join Hogwarts come September. A place where our scions, our sons and daughters and the hopes of our generation go to learn. A place that is safe."

He looked around. "Brothers. Sisters. Can Hogwarts really be safe with a magic-devouring individual? With a Headmaster that has shown to have favoured him over the security of the students he's supposed to be in charge of? Do not forget, come September the first, Harry Potter will be there, probably sitting with one of our wards. Will it be little Susan, Madam Bones? Or perhaps your daughter Pansy, Quintus? I admit my son could never establish camaraderie with Potter over the years. What happens when a schoolyard brawl becomes a bit too much for Harry Potter to bear? Will my son endure it? Will your daughter, Joshua? Will our children perish, or worse, have to spend the rest of their lives as a muggle because he or she was unlucky to stand against the Boy-Who-Lived? Can you, as a member of this body, say to a grieving parent — we could have saved your child from dying, but on principle, we could not say no to the Boy-Who-Lived?

Silence ravaged the entire hall.

"Yes," said Lucius, smiling wolfishly as he gathered the stunned audience with victorious eyes. "I thought so too."

…

…

Harry leaned against the accused box, with his eyes closed, trying to think. He was scared. Not in that half-pleasant, adrenaline-charged way, but quietly scared. The wait-on-the-news-of-someone-dying scared. It was the rational sort of fear that put a lawn chair down in front of his thoughts and brought an entire tray of drinks with it.

And the worst part? He agreed with the man. Deep down, in his darkest thoughts, Harry had always feared this power. Of what he was becoming. Would become. As hard as Sirius tried to hide it, he hadn't missed the look of fright on his face whenever Harry felt his surroundings go grey-scale. Lucius was a bastard, but it didn't make his words any less true. They contained the same resolve in them that Kreacher had when calling him a demon. It was why the Black Manor hated him. And if he went to Hogwarts then—

His chest felt cold.

Would Hogwarts hate him too? Hogwarts, the only true home he had ever had, would that hate him and demand his demise as well?

And then the sound of someone clapping attracted his attention.

It was Albus Dumbledore.

"Yes, Headmaster?" said Malfoy, teeth clenched.

"I am applauding you, Lucius," said Dumbledore. "Applauding you for doing something not even I have ever done. Even at the height of the last war, I could not bring the Wizengamot to silence, even with proof of that man's atrocities. Even with countless people— magical and muggle alike dying every single day, the Wizengamot was still unsure of whether this man was indeed a threat."

Harry blinked.

"And yet look at you," Dumbledore continued, "You have aroused suspicion, awakened doubt and fear in this august body's heart. What you ask isn't a plea for help, or a request for justice. This is fear-mongering at its worst, crudely employed against a boy that only sought to live his life. A boy your son's age. A boy that did nothing to suffer everything he has been through, and certainly not the reactions of the chaos that your words are trying to erupt."

Lucius laughed. "You give me too much credit, Headmaster. But I don't blame you for your shortcomings. After all, only a parent can understand where I'm coming from."

"Nobody is classifying your fears as impertinent Lucius Malfoy," said Augusta Longbottom. "But if you're making judgments on people based on what could happen, I'll start demanding that all scions of suspected Death-Eaters be withdrawn, for fear of my Neville being subjected to their biassed and corruptive views. By Morgana, we could start by getting rid of such people from becoming part of the Wizengamot."

"There is a difference between being proven as a Death Eater and merely being suspected of it, Madam Longbottom."

"Really?" said Madam Bones, surprising everyone, "and here we thought we were being asked to make a judgement about what could happen instead of what happened. Because I can tell you what happened. That boy standing right there," she pointed at Harry, "is the Boy-Who-Lived. He's the goddamn reason any of us can get out of our homes, without fearing that when we return, we won't see a bloody Dark Mark floating in the sky. He's the reason our nation isn't going through a civil war that nearly ripped our society to pieces in the seventies. He's the person who was kidnapped and made a murder-attempt on by Death Eaters. And here you are, Lucius Malfoy, Imperiused Death Eater, claiming that somehow in all of this, Harry Potter is the dangerous one? Don't make me laugh!"

Harry stared at the woman, stunned. Even Lucius looked utterly flabbergasted. No doubt he hadn't expected the woman to oppose him this viciously.

"Lord Malfoy," spoke Joshua in the end, "Family Magic, by its very definition, cannot be assorted with the same mandates that cover standard wizardry and witchcraft. It is why we only allow the tutelage of standardised magic at Hogwarts, leaving all proprietary magic to the Nobility to teach it to their offspring. If we were to exclude Mr. Harry Potter from magical education, it sets a very dangerous predicament. By that logic, all scions of Ancient and Noble Houses should be kept away from Hogwarts, and educated in private."

"Not all scions of Ancient and Noble Houses are magically disturbed, Greengrass," Nott refuted in his gravelly tone. "Neither are they prone to suffering strange accidents involving Dark Lords dead for a decade."

"Is that why your younger brother was found dead, celebrating the ten-year anniversary wearing Death Eater regalia, Lord Nott?" Sirius shot back.

That shut him up.

Marchbanks banged the gavel.

"The decision to expel a student or otherwise rests on the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and not on the Wizengamot. I find you in contempt of this court, Lord Malfoy. You will pay a fine of five hundred and sixty galleons, and be formally barred from attending the next two sessions," she finished imperiously.

Lucius's lips curled. Harry didn't quite understand how, but he had a feeling that the slippery bastard had gotten what he wanted. "Of course, and my apologies for the interruption."

"With that," Marchbanks banged the gavel again. "I declare this session over!"

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