Last Time
He shook his head and took his tea back to the table. He needed to calm down, not wind himself up further…then, maybe masturbating would actually help his stress levels and ease off his headaches.
He smiled to himself, he had no other plans for tonight, so why not?
He gulped his tea down in one and put his cup in the sink before heading to bed. He was already wound up and riled, his mind filled with Rabastan, he might as well put himself out of his misery and he was sure he would feel better for it. It could be just what he needed to end such a perfect night.
Chapter Forty-Four – Recompense
Harry's dinner date with Rabastan had gone perfectly. His fiancé had been amused that Harry was fretting over thanking him for gifts and had brushed it off with a laugh. They had exchanged small gifts, custom-made cufflinks for Rabastan and Harry had received exceptionally expensive, specially imported broom wax that was made specifically for the Firebolt, and they had had a wonderful meal together and Harry had felt lighter and much happier when he had, eventually, come back to Hogwarts. He always felt better after he'd spent some significant time with Rabastan.
There were less than seven weeks until the Easter break, when he would have two weeks to decompress a little before the real work would begin. He had already started lightly revising his notes from the beginning of the year in preparation for the upcoming exams.
His days started to blend into one another now as Harry worked himself from dawn until dusk. He was trying not to cut back on any sleep, knowing that his family would be highly displeased if he did, but there just weren't enough hours in the day to do everything that he'd planned to do. It was very frustrating.
That weekend, though, saw a small break in the daily grind as Quidditch had returned. Yesterday, the Saturday, he had dressed himself up in green and silver to cheer on the Slytherin team. It had been the third game of the season and the match had been a must-win for both teams. Whoever lost would sink to the bottom of the table. Ravenclaw had gone into the match in the most precarious position, as they had been crushed by a very strong Hufflepuff team back at the end of November, but Harry had made sure that Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin in the opening match of the season.
In the end, it had been close, but if Slytherin had lost to Ravenclaw…Harry shook his head. No, he couldn't even imagine the whining he'd have had to endure if Slytherin suffered that humiliation, but thankfully, Slytherin had won so that nightmare hadn't come true.
He'd been dragged out to watch the match, stuffed into the Slytherin bleachers, wearing Slytherin colours, cheering for the Slytherin team just because he wanted a bit of peace, but half his mind had still been on the things he had left to do over the weekend. He hadn't resented taking a bit of time to watch the match, it was just that he had a lot to do and limited time in which to do it. He did understand the need for breaks, though, especially with the stress he was piling on himself, so he didn't mind overly much.
He hadn't been recalled to the Wizengamot yet, but he'd received a letter from Lucius that morning warning him that it could be any day now, as he'd subtly questioned a member of the Law Enforcement team handling the investigation on how close they were to compiling everything they needed and had been told that the Law Enforcement team was almost done.
The Daily Prophet had been sent a cease and desist notice by Minister Thicknesse after a member of the Wizengamot had been attacked in Diagon Alley. It was long overdue in Harry's opinion, but badgering the Wizengamot members was one thing, attacking them in the street was entirely another, so he understood why it was only now that that notice had been sent to that blasted paper. Draco was keeping very close to him after learning that Wizengamot members were being attacked, as if he thought the other students might start throwing punches at him. It wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility, Harry supposed, given that he was already being called names and having hexes thrown his way, though Professor McGonagall had found out about it and she had personally put a stop to all of it, so Harry's days were a little quieter now and he wasn't being harassed, though he did still get the odd hex thrown at him in a crowded corridor sometimes. He went and reported it to Professor McGonagall every time it happened and she would make a note of it. Harry had noticed the increased presence of the Professors in the corridors after the last report he'd made and the attacks were now few and far in between. No one had been brave enough to stand up and claim responsibility, which was just as well given that Draco was likely to curse them into non-existence.
It was Sunday today and it was almost March. The weather was starting to noticeably brighten up, but it would be a good few weeks more before it started getting warmer seeing as they were up in the Scottish Highlands.
Harry had slept in, making sure to get a few extra hours before getting up and going to breakfast. Draco was waiting anxiously for him at the Slytherin table.
"I was just about to come and get you."
"I had a lie-in." Harry said with a shrug.
"Are you feeling okay?" Draco asked him, looking him over critically.
Harry hummed. "I feel fine."
Harry set up his breakfast as usual, getting his drinks ready and he started eating, glad that the upset stomach that had been plaguing him in recent days had not made an appearance today. He could easily see how stress negatively affected someone's health, he was living proof of it.
He had cut back, just slightly, on everything in the last week, just because he was feeling so bad. He hadn't done any translation work for Ancient Laws and Customs and he was taking a small break from his revision work, just until the Easter break was over.
"Oh, these are yours."
Draco handed over two newspapers that had already been unrolled, likely read too, but Harry didn't mind. He usually passed the newspapers over to others once he was done with them.
The Prophet was behaving itself for once, though there were hints of their discontent in the language used. Subtle hints that the Wizengamot still hadn't acted, despite having the culprit in custody and such. Harry no longer cared. Lucius was certain that they would be recalled in the next few days, so Harry was sure that this would all be over soon and the Prophet could start in on something else…though, hopefully not him. He was just so ready for this case to be over and done with, for his schooling to be over and done with. He was thinking of taking some time to himself just after he graduated. Those two months between his graduation and his wedding day, to just relax, to let himself rest after this period of high stress, and catch himself up with Rabastan…as much as he was going to be allowed, anyway. He was sure that Narcissa was going to commandeer him into the last touches of wedding planning. She was already frantic, making sure that everything was going to be prepared with plenty of time to spare. She wanted everything to be perfect and Harry knew that, with her in charge, it would be.
"Is there anything we need to do today?" Draco asked.
"Homework is all done, despite Quidditch yesterday, which I was worried about." Blaise said, still looking a little tired after the Slytherin team party, which had been raging all day.
"We made sure to get it done Friday evening." Theo pointed out. "A bit of a late night, but it meant we could celebrate properly."
"I am glad that the governors decided we were getting too much homework." Pansy said, sipping on her ginger tea, looking rather peaky.
"I'm certainly glad they decided to cut everything down to more manageable levels." Harry agreed, reaching for the glass of milk as Draco gave him a narrow-eyed glare. Harry drank the entire thing down in one, like it was a potion. He still wasn't used to the taste of it and it wasn't his favourite thing in the world to drink but, he reasoned with himself, it was infinitely better than the potions he'd had to take to rectify the damage done to his body by the lack of calcium. Maybe he could get away with flavoured milk? He'd ask at his next check-up at Saint Mungo's in the summer.
"Then, you are taking on a lot more than the rest of us." Theo said. "How is your headache?"
Harry hummed again. "Not so bad at the moment. I'm sure that will change tomorrow, when we're back in lessons."
"So, what are your plans for today?"
"Translation work." Harry said. "I haven't worked on it at all in the last week because I've been so busy, so I want to do a bit today, while I can."
"You can share some of your fiancé's chocolate with us." Blaise teased.
"Blaise!" Astoria chastised him. "It's rude to ask for someone else's gift! What would your mother say?"
"I only want one, Astoria." Blaise chuckled.
"You're not having any." Harry said with a grin. "They're too good to share."
"You could put Honeydukes to shame with how much chocolate you're hoarding in your rooms. Why has Rabastan sent you so much?"
Harry shrugged. "He said he buys me gifts because he knows it'll make me happy, so maybe he thinks I need to be happier." Harry laughed.
"I think it's very sweet." Astoria said with a smile.
"Maybe that chocolate is why you're having so many stomach aches and headaches." Theo told him. "All those sweets can't be helping."
Harry chuckled. "Except it doesn't matter how much I eat, I feel better or worse depending on the day. I ate so much junk yesterday at the Slytherin party, but today, I feel better than I have all week." He said with a shrug. "It's stress, I swear it is. I feel better on the weekend than I do during the weekday."
"You need to take more breaks during the week." Pansy told him.
Harry gave her a grin. "I'll be getting two whole weeks free very soon! And probably even more chocolate if Rabastan does as he did last year." He added with a giggle.
"Oh, I remember your huge collection of eggs." Draco said, laughing. "How was it put? Like a mother hen clucking over his nest?"
"I hope he does the same this year, some of those flavour combinations were amazing and I wouldn't have thought of them by myself and I would never have bought them for myself when I didn't know if I'd like them or not."
"I'm sure he will." Draco assured him. "He saw how much you liked them last Easter. My bet is that you get even more this year."
Harry smiled and thought back to last Easter, when he was eating so much chocolate and enjoying his break with Rabastan. He hoped that this Easter would follow suit and he could do the same.
The very next morning, at nine sharp, just after he'd finished reading both papers and just as the bell rang for the first lesson, his rings heated up on his finger and he cursed softly.
"Wizengamot?" Draco asked perceptively.
Harry nodded. "Yes. Father warned me that it would be soon, it seems that the Law Enforcers have finished their investigation. Please, gather up some notes for me?"
"You know I will." Draco nodded. "And we'll get you all caught up through homework club."
"Thank you. I'll see you as soon as I can."
Harry hurried from the Great Hall, weaving around other students, back up to his room so that he could change his robes from his uniform to dress robes.
He took a moment to breathe, to calm his racing heart, before touching his rings and apparating to the Ministry. He was very used to this by now. He knew the routine as he headed for the Wizengamot meeting room.
He was not the last to arrive today, which was a blessing, as he slipped into the busy room and sat in his customary seat between Lucius and Xerxes.
"How are you feeling?" Lucius asked, looking him over critically.
"I'm fine, Father." Harry said with a smile.
"No more book-to-forehead issues?"
Harry snorted a laugh. "No. I would like to point out that that was just once and it was mostly out of frustration."
"You worried your mother and I." Lucius told him. "Now, has the headache persisted?"
"Not in the last few days. It's not constant, it's on and off. It's just stress." He assured them. "I feel fine otherwise."
"We're not pleased with this development, Harry. After what you went through last year, I would have thought you would be more inclined to put your health first."
"I've cut back a little in the last week." Harry said soothingly.
"You must be feeling truly terrible to have done as such." Xerxes said just as worriedly.
"What other symptoms do you have other than the headache?" Lucius asked.
Harry shook his head. "I'm feeling tired more despite getting the same amount of sleep. I wake up feeling unrested and I sometimes get a stomach ache if I'm fretting too much over homework and revising."
"It does sound like stress." Xerxes sighed.
"I've cut down on the amount I'm doing." He said firmly to both men. "Of course I care about my health and I don't want to worry anyone, it's just, in the moment I feel fine. When I'm doing the work I don't notice anything amiss. It's the next morning that it catches up to me, but of course, it's too late by then."
"I want you to take more rest days, Harry." Lucius told him and gave him a stern look when Harry opened his mouth to argue. "This is not a debate. You will do as I tell you."
"There are only four months left until I graduate, of course this is the most stressful time for me. Will you be just as happy if you force me to take rest days and I fail my exams and have to re-take them at the Ministry in August, or worse…repeat my final year and have to put all of my plans on hold?"
Lucius actually chuckled. "You won't fail your exams. Harry, you're too clever for that. Look at how quickly and effectively you caught up with Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. You were never unintelligent, you merely lacked support and motivation and now look at how you have thrived when you have all of your needs met and have the support you need. You have the motivation now because you are not struggling for mere survival."
Harry considered that. It was a fair assessment, he allowed. He had caught up rather quickly and he was now, in fact, the top of his year in Ancient Runes when he was the only one in the class who had taken the subject up late. It was all thanks to Marcus, of course, but that didn't change the fact that Harry had learned, and learned quickly at that. He'd managed to condense three years of catch-up work for both subjects into just a few months, it should have been impossible, but he'd managed it because he'd wanted to make his family proud.
"Well, perhaps I won't fail, but I want straight Os, Father." Harry insisted. "I don't want to let my grades slip so close to the end of the year. I will get through it."
Lucius sighed. "You are much too stubborn for your own good."
"My stubbornness will get me through every obstacle life tries to throw at me." Harry pointed out. "A good thing too, given what I have chosen to do with my life. There will be no lack of obstacles to overcome."
"You will be coming home after this meeting so that your mother can see you." Lucius told him.
Harry nodded happily. "I want to see her too." He wanted to see Rabastan as well, but he couldn't admit to that aloud. Not here.
"I will call you all to order." Runcorn called out, turning from the parchment he had been riffling through to give them his attention. His wand waved and the door shut and then locked. "It is the twenty-third of February at fifteen minutes past nine O'clock in the morning."
Harry settled himself as he gave Runcorn his full attention, knowing that this would be the conclusion of whatever investigation the Law Enforcers had conducted.
"Enough of the pleasantries, Runcorn. What is happening?" Lord Bole cut in impatiently, looking like he hadn't eaten or slept since their last meeting twenty days ago.
"I am aware that tensions are high." Runcorn said, with an edge of steel to his tone. "But decorum will be upheld within this room."
Harry felt that Runcorn going back to the papers spread out before him in silence was a little petty. A cruel knife to Lord Bole and Lord Lawson. Of course they were desperate for information on this case, it was their devastatingly young relative who had been caught up in all of this. A rebuke should of, and had, been given, that was surely sufficient in chastising those at the table to remain respectful.
"As this investigation has now concluded…" Runcorn told them, finally speaking. "…I can tell you that the person in custody has already applied to appeal incarceration."
"We cannot let him!" Lord Lawson burst out this time.
"He has the right to appeal." Runcorn said, but there was a cruel tilt to his mouth. "Not that it will do much good."
Appeals were heard by the Council of Magical Law, Harry knew. They would review the decision taken by the Wizengamot, including reading transcripts of their debates here in this room, and then they would decide if the appeal was successful or failed. Nine times out of ten, the CML agreed with the decision that the Wizengamot had taken. If they didn't agree, then both the Wizengamot and the Council were brought together to debate the issue, which, again, usually resolved itself in the Wizengamot getting their way. The people in this room were much too powerful in the wizarding world for them not to get their own way most of the time. When you were the cornerstone of society, the pillars of the community, people listened to what you had to say.
"Isn't that a sign of guilt?" Harry whispered to the two men on either side of him. "Appealing a sentence we haven't formally given?"
"It is." Xerxes nodded.
Harry inhaled and sat still, hands loosely clasped on the table in front of him.
"I can now reveal that the suspect's name is Robert John Redmund-Rutherford." Runcorn carried on, reading off the parchment in front of him. "He is forty-two, unmarried, no children."
That wasn't the information that the Wizengamot wanted, but Runcorn was being almost sadistic today. Harry wondered what had happened recently to make him want to twist the knife over this case.
"Chief Warlock?" Harry called out questioningly.
Harry was not immune to the narrow-eyed look for the interruption, but Runcorn did actually like him, for which Harry was grateful, so the Chief Warlock dipped his head in a sharp nod of acknowledgement.
"This body recognises Lord Potter-Black."
"How long had Mister Redmund-Rutherford been working as a false potion's master?" He asked and, as that had been his question to the Law Enforcers, it was not odd that he would ask for the answer and if it helped to move this case along also…
"I take no pleasure in informing you all that he has been employed with this company for eight months."
There were hisses and soft curses. Harry's left hand formed a tight fist.
"Had…" Harry had to stop to discreetly cough to clear his throat. "Had he caused any additional deaths?" He asked softly.
"As far as the Law Enforcers can determine, he's caused another thirteen unnecessary deaths."
Harry's heart sank.
"We will be reviewing this information also, to add to his charges." Runcorn carried on.
"Why wasn't this picked up on?" Lord Bole demanded. "If he had been caught sooner, then Frederick…he would still be here."
"All of the deaths were singular events." Runcorn explained. "Most of them happened at Saint Mungo's, to patients who were expected to die. Most of the potions that Mister Redmund-Rutherford was tasked with brewing at the beginning of his employment were pain potions for Saint Mungo's, until the beginning of this year when he was tasked with brewing more complicated potions after his probationary period was over."
That was a massive blow to Lord Bole and to Lord Lawson. Harry saw them absorb the information as if taking a physical blow, just barely managing to contain their upset, their distress, as the truth came out.
"Was his work not even checked?" Lord Christopher Prince demanded.
"It wasn't." Runcorn confirmed, letting the wave of sudden anger linger a moment before carrying on. "He was not even given a potion to brew for his interview. The documents and credentials he'd forged were taken at face value and he was hired on the spot. We will be running a separate investigation into the clinic, and those involved in the decision to hire Mister Redmund-Rutherford."
There was going to be no way to save the clinic from the backlash that was coming. They would fold. They would be bankrupt in a matter of months and no one would work with them again. Harry felt sorry for all the legitimate workers there, the real potions masters who would now be out of a job, and, if this case followed them, then they might even be unhireable from here on out. They might never again get a job brewing potions, despite that they were legitimately qualified for it. This case was going to tar them too, by mere association. It wasn't fair, but Harry could practically see it happening already.
"Can I clarify that we are moving to trial?" Lord Lawson asked.
"Mister Robert Redmund-Rutherford will be going to trial. There is a separate investigation into the company and those who hired him and one person from the clinic is being investigated over the dispensing of the tainted potions to the public. All in all, we may have four trials to oversee in the coming month, all related to this one case."
Harry tried not to grimace or show how much time that would eat up. He didn't have time to dedicate himself to four separate trials, but he'd have no other choice but to make sacrifices. He inhaled deeply and calmed himself. He would prioritise his Wizengamot duties, his homework, and his revision work. The most important out of everything that he was currently juggling. He would be done with his schooling in just four months. He could survive four months.
"This body will be dismissed now until the trial. I will push the Council to clear their schedules so that we will have a quick end to this and justice for the families who have lost young members."
People started talking and Harry stood on automatic, Lucius and Xerxes following his lead.
"You will stay at home for lunch, Harry." Lucius told him.
That would give him a good three hours with Rabastan and he was pleased. He had missed his morning lessons, but he knew that he could make that up in homework club that evening. He was just glad that this issue was finally getting sorted. Perhaps then the Daily Prophet would leave off them, though Harry wasn't overly hopeful on that front. The Prophet always sold more papers when it bashed the Wizengamot or spoke, very subtly, about dismantling them. It would never happen, he'd been assured of that, but if they lost the confidence of the public then Harry didn't see how they could survive as they currently were.
Harry chastised himself to stop borrowing trouble before it happened. He was overthinking things, a terrible habit of his. He shoved all of it aside. He didn't have to think about this case now until the trial date. He would use this time to focus on his schoolwork. Just four more months, he repeated to himself.
Harry was standing perfectly still with the posture that Narcissa had drilled into him as Astoria fluttered around him nervously. They had had a couple of these robe fittings, the very first of which had been Astoria taking his measurements over and over, just to be sure she had the right ones.
She had found a beautiful fabric through her apprenticeship at Twilfitt and Tattings and it was perfect. Harry loved it and had said so as he gave her the gold to purchase it.
Today, Harry was holding still as Astoria pinned the fabric in place and used her wand to make small markings. He didn't really understand what the markings were for, but he trusted Astoria to know what she was doing.
"Are you sure you like this shade of blue, Harry?" Astoria fretted.
"I love it." Harry assured her for the hundredth time since Astoria had picked it out. She was unduly nervous that he was just saying he liked it when he actually didn't, but that wasn't the case. He wouldn't have chosen it if he hadn't loved it given that this was going to be his first, and only, wedding. His outfit needed to be perfect.
"I do love your idea of wearing an undershirt of white in a nod at tradition." She told him.
"I thought if I wore blue underneath then it would be too much blue, if that makes sense." Harry said, trying not to move.
"I could have made it work if that was what you wanted, but I love this idea more and white will go very well with this shade of blue."
"It matches my engagement ring almost perfectly." He said. "That is what I wanted most and Rabastan agreed to the colour scheme."
"You both have impeccable taste." Astoria said, smiling.
"Is it almost done?" Draco asked from over on the settee. He was drinking tea and he insisted that he was reading the book in his lap, but he was actually just watching them.
"Almost." Astoria said. "I will only need one more fitting, of the finished robes this time. This will be the last chance for any style changes, Harry. I will be able to make minor adjustments once it is finished, if the sleeves or the hem is too long, but it is almost finished."
"It's looking great." Harry assured her. "We spoke a lot about the style and what would suit me best versus what I actually liked and I think you've done a nice balance, Astoria. I loved your finalised concept drawings."
Astoria blushed pink, but she looked so pleased and proud of herself as she marked the unfinished robe more. Harry thought they might have been places to cut, but some of them seemed to be in the wrong place for it. He had no idea when it came to robe-making. Or tailoring in general.
"Defence club will be starting soon, Harry." Draco warned him, still not reading the open book in his lap.
Harry hummed in disinterest. The defence club could wait until Astoria was done with his wedding outfit. To him, it was more important.
"Harry, you've invited that little second year." Draco told him, his voice deepening with authority. "You can't let him know you're getting married. It might get back to unsavoury ears."
Harry had forgotten about Felix. He sighed. "I can always count on you to remember the details, Draco."
Draco preened at his words and Harry smiled.
"I won't be much longer." Astoria said distractedly, listening to them, but wholly focused on her task.
"Take your time. I will leave the others knocking outside until I'm ready."
"So rude." Draco huffed, lifting his teacup to take a sip.
"Priorities, Draco." Harry sing-songed. "My wedding outfit needs to be done and no one who is not already in the know can see it, thus, everyone stays outside until Astoria has packed it away again."
"This could have easily been avoided if you hadn't invited the second year to defence club."
Harry rolled his eyes. "What I do in my capacity as Head Boy is of no relevance here. Inviting Felix to defence club isn't the issue and it's easily avoided, as you say, by not letting everyone in immediately while Astoria puts the robe away."
"Done!" Astoria said cheerfully, having not paid any attention to their little sibling squabble. Their little fights usually went right over her head. "Let me get the bag ready, Harry and then I'll carefully take it off you."
"You're very excited, darling." Draco said to her.
"Of course I am." Astoria said, looking up at her betrothed as she unzipped the garment bag. "How can I not be when I'm making the wedding outfit for such a prominent wizard, Draco?"
"I'm happy that you're so excited, Astoria. I wouldn't want you to be stressed over it." Harry told her. "Your homework and studies are more important."
"Ever since you started homework club, Harry, I have started getting straight Os. It helps that you're all a year above me and can easily help when I need it." Astoria said, smiling as she helped Harry shimmy out of the unfinished robe, putting it securely into the bag and then closing it up just as the door knocked.
"Ah, just in time. And, to appease Draco, I won't even have to leave them outside." Harry joked.
"Make some tea." Draco ordered, already standing and moving to the door, his unread book now closed on the coffee table.
Astoria left the garment bag folded by her feet and Harry moved to the little kitchenette to make fresh refreshments.
"Harry, how are you?" Theo greeted as he escorted Luna in. Luna, who Harry had never seen so utterly happy as she had been in recent weeks.
"I'm feeling better." Harry waved off as he carried a tea tray over to the coffee table.
"I thought you were going to be sick last night." Blaise told him.
Harry shook his head. "It didn't come to anything. I retched for a while, but nothing actually came up."
"I really think you should see a healer, Harry." Draco told him.
"And say what?" Harry demanded. "That I'm stressed, have all the symptoms of stress, but can't take anything because I have runes carved into my throat."
"I'm worried about your health, you git!" Draco told him.
Harry sighed. "There's no need. I'm going to get through this, Draco. It's almost March, another month and we'll be home for two weeks."
"If you make it that far." Draco groused.
The door knocked again, tentatively this time, as if the person knocking wasn't sure they had the right portrait.
"Best behaviour, everyone." Harry coached. "No speaking of secret things in front of the little one."
"How long is he staying?" Blaise asked with a sniff.
"An hour or so, I'm going to do the easy stuff first, then move on to the girls."
"What about me?" Blaise demanded.
"As I said, I'll teach you after Felix has had a turn."
"Oh, very mature, Harry. And you're actually a lord? You're in charge of law-making?"
Harry laughed as he opened the door, waving a nervous Felix in.
"Come on in, Felix. Let's get you started. What are you working on currently?"
"The tickling charm." Felix said with a nervous look around at all the older students in the room, all of them seventh years, apart from Astoria and Luna, who were both sixth years. The poor boy. If Harry had had more free time then he'd have asked Felix here by himself, away from the others, but he had to combine the defence club because he had very few 'free slots' to spare merely to teach others. It was hard enough to keep his own head above water at times with everything he was taking on.
"Right, let's get right to it. Ignore the idiots behind me, they're waiting their turn and doing their homework. They will not interfere."
It was too easy, almost relaxing as Harry taught Felix for an hour and ten minutes, until he'd happily gotten the hang of the tickling charm and several others besides, and Harry waved the boy off before he started teaching Astoria and Luna. Blaise joined in with this lesson, easily listening to him despite that Blaise was older than he was. Blaise was eighteen now. His birthday had been back in October.
"That's it, you've gotten it." Harry praised happily, giving Blaise a gentle pat on the back.
Blaise laughed. "You're a really good teacher, Harry. I can see why you were considering it before deciding to go all in for politics. It's a shame that you have to waste such skills, but you can do more good in the political world."
Harry hummed and smiled. "I can console myself that I can, at least, put my teaching skills to use on my own children."
"Do you still want a small army?" Blaise teased.
"As many as possible." Harry said with a grin.
"You might end up regretting that, in the end, when you and Rabastan are overwhelmed."
"We'll deal with it." Harry waved off.
"It'll be mostly him dealing with it while you are running the wizarding world as Minister for Magic."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Family will always come first. I would give up the position before I let my children suffer."
"Take a break, now." Draco said huffily.
"I've never seen you like this." Blaise said, rolling his eyes. "Not even when Harry was seriously sick last year."
"We knew what was wrong the last time." Draco replied snappily. "He was taking medication to heal himself. This time, we don't even know what is wrong with him!"
"It's stress!" Harry said firmly, brooking no arguments from anyone. "I'm taking on a lot, that's all. I don't want to hear another word about it, I'm fine!"
"I'm worried, Harry." Draco told him stiffly, and Harry knew just how much it cost him to admit to that in front of others.
Harry went and sat beside him, sitting down and snuggling in. Draco grumbled and pretended to endure it, but his arm wrapped around him and tugged him in tighter all the same.
"You don't need to worry, it's nothing. I'm feeling better now that I've finished the creature law reform."
"I can't wait to see it pass." Blaise said. "You should frame the newspaper article announcing your victory."
Harry chuckled. "It'll be enough just to have it pass." He insisted. "It's sorely needed and I don't want to see it fail."
"I'm sure it will pass first time." Astoria told him, holding her dainty teacup delicately.
"But, with that done and out of the way, I have a little more free time and I'm resting. I haven't filled that time with anything else." He stressed for Draco.
"That'll never last. Harry, you're a workaholic." Blaise told him.
"It'll last for a little while." Harry insisted. "Might be another story when the exams get closer and I start doing revision work more seriously, but for now, I'm feeling calmer."
He truly was, as well. Despite the little issue last night, where he had been eating dinner and had felt his stomach cramping, the urge to vomit creeping up on him so suddenly he'd retched at the table, he had woken up feeling perfectly fine and strong. He didn't even have a headache today and the stomach cramping had eased off. He had eaten all three meals today without any problems. It was annoying, as he couldn't pin down any pattern to his stress symptoms, he just had to endure them when they came and make the most of it when they eased off.
One thing was for certain, though…he could not wait for April to come so that he could have those two weeks off.
March had come bright and breezy. It was nice to get outside without it being cold enough to make his nose drip. It was still chilly, but it was nothing a jumper and a scarf couldn't keep at bay.
Harry walked around the grounds by himself, making his way down to the lake. It was the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff Quidditch match today, in less than an hour, and he should have been with his team, making sure they ate, making sure they kept their morale and easing off their nervousness and tension, but he needed this moment to himself.
He'd woken to the worst headache he'd had yet and he hated it. He hated that he was getting himself this worked up, and for what? His law reform was done, he couldn't do any more and, yes, of course he was nervous over submitting it, it would be his first foray into changing and making laws and he was only seventeen, but there was nothing he could do for it now. He would be submitting it after the conclusion of the trial currently going on, just before the easter break so that he'd have time to dedicate to debating it without his school work getting in the way.
He was fretting over his exams, and as they were his final NEWTs he'd like to think people would understand that, but he was in a very good position to pass all of them, so he didn't know why that was playing on his mind.
Dumbledore was also on his mind. The man had not been seen very often around Hogwarts lately and Harry had assumed it was to do with another Horcrux, and that had worried him as the last thing he wanted to deal with was one of Voldemort's tantrums, until Lucius had told him that Dumbledore was answering the accusations of negligence at the Ministry. His father was very hopeful that Dumbledore would not be returning to the castle in his capacity as Headmaster for the final term after the Easter break. Harry just had to avoid the man until then and he had, thus far, done that perfectly.
"There you are, are you okay?" Draco asked him, striding over to assess him, Harry's Firebolt in one hand.
Harry hummed, even as he took the broom. "I'm fine. I was just checking the weather conditions."
"Don't lie to me." Draco snapped. "I know you better than that."
Harry sighed, then turned to give Draco a smile.
"I just needed a bit of air." He said softly. "It's nice today."
"A headache?" Draco asked, looking at him closely and reading between the lines.
Harry nodded. "I overdid it yesterday, that's all. I wanted all of the homework out of the way, ready for Quidditch today and I pushed myself a little too hard."
"Harry, I'm really worried about you." Draco said seriously.
"I wish you wouldn't."
"Of course I'm going to. Harry, this has been going on for too long. I've already written to mother and father about it."
Harry chuckled. "I would expect nothing less from you. I just…it is worrying me too, but what can actually be done about it, Draco? I have to have the runes to protect me from Dumbledore's plans to slip me potions. You have to understand that that is much worse than dealing with a few headaches."
"Are you sure it's just stress? That illness hasn't come back, has it?"
Harry shook his head. "No. My last check-up at the hospital showed me at optimum health, Draco. I've been drinking the milk every day, I've added more cheese to my diet and I've been eating broccoli and spring greens too. The hypocalcaemia has not come back."
"Okay, maybe it's not that, but it's something, Harry."
"It's just stress."
"It's more than stress!" Draco told him angrily. "I'm stressed, all of us in our year are stressed and yes, I know you're going to say that you have more responsibility, and you do, but damn it, Harry, I wish you would stop brushing this under the carpet."
"If you get a headache, what do you do?" Harry demanded.
"I take a potion." Draco answered with a sigh. "And I know that you can't, it has to grate on you, I know, but please, Harry. When we go for Easter break, have Marcus remove the runes and see a Healer, just for my peace of mind."
"I don't think you quite understand exactly how fucking painful it was to have those runes carved in the first place." Harry said. "I'm not having them removed, putting myself at risk in the process, just to take a headache reliever, Draco."
Draco inhaled deeply. "I've shared my worry with mother and father, with a bit of luck, they will insist upon it in my place."
Harry chuckled. "No doubt, but you have to remember that they were witness to the runes being carved the first time. I don't believe they'd ever subject me to that a second time. Mother hated it, she fussed over me so much after I had it done."
"Well, I hope they do do something about it because I'm worried and you're not well, no matter what you say, but, for now, I will be cheering you on."
That made Harry smile and he wrapped an arm around Draco's waist.
"I don't say it nearly enough, but I do love you, you great git. Even if you do fuss worse than mother and whine unlike anyone else I've ever met."
Draco scoffed. "Come on, let's get you to the pitch and watch you flatten Hufflepuff to take the Quidditch Cup yet again. It's embarrassing."
"Slytherin are still in with a chance…as are Hufflepuff." Harry waved off. "It's a very small chance, mind you, but it is still a chance. Unfortunately, with two losses this season, Ravenclaw have no hope, but they can still spoil it for us if we lose to them in the final match, so I can't relax just yet."
"I hate to admit it, but your team are too strong." Draco grumbled. "Your reserves are too bloody strong for other houses' first teams."
"I made them that way." Harry said, smiling. "I wanted the Gryffindor team to be my lasting legacy, for a few years after my graduation, at least. But I've instilled in them the importance of training up the future team, so, with some luck, they will keep to that and keep training younger reserves to take over in later years."
"It's inter-house Quidditch." Draco said, shaking his head. "Not the league, or even the national team!"
Harry just laughed. "Yeah, but what if some of them want to play professionally when they graduate? My training might just give them a leg up."
Draco snorted. "Come on, let's get you to the Quidditch pitch so that you can prepare."
Harry inhaled and looked around the lake one last time before he followed Draco. His headache was pounding against his temples, but he didn't deem it to be so bad that he needed to substitute himself with his reserve Seeker, Dillan.
He planned to coast on the edges of the game, not getting involved until the snitch made an appearance. He wanted a nice, quick game, but he would settle for a clean game with no injuries or fouls.
He said goodbye to Draco at the entrance to the Gryffindor changing rooms, as his brother headed for the bleachers.
"Harry, there you are." Demelza greeted. She was already in her Quidditch outfit and her worried frown eased into a bright smile as he arrived.
"Are we all ready?" He asked, putting his Firebolt down so that he could shrug off his jumper and scarf, showing that, underneath, he was in his Quidditch gear also.
"We're ready!" Jimmy, one of his Beaters, insisted with a grin.
"We need a nice, clean game." Harry told them. "Jimmy, Ritchie, protect the Chasers at all costs."
Harry looked at his three Chasers. Demelza just looked excited. She was an old hand at this now, but Sarah looked a little nervous, and Harry's newest selection to the team, Cory, looked a little green. This would only be his second-ever game.
"Make sure your passes are precise." He told them. "Watch out for bludgers and try not to give away too many penalties."
"That penalty against Slytherin wasn't my fault." Demelza insisted stubbornly. "Those dirty cheats had it coming."
Harry chuckled. "Oh, I'm not arguing that, but kicking, Demelza, really?"
Demelza huffed, but she was smiling too.
"Pauley, where are you?" Harry asked, frowning, trying to spot the third year Keeper.
"Here!" Came the small voice from the back of the squad, and Pauley pushed his way in front of Jimmy and Sarah.
"Conditions aren't too bad." Harry reported. "It's not overly warm and once we get in the air, it won't be too cold either, but the sun is low. Watch your blind spots and don't drift too far from the centre hoop."
Pauley nodded determinedly.
"If we win this match, we will go ahead of everyone else going into the final match of the season." Harry said seriously. "Hufflepuff are our biggest competition for the title this year. If they win this match, we will have a hell of a time playing catch-up in the final match and we'll have to beat Ravenclaw by however many points we lose to Hufflepuff in this match. Let's not give them that opportunity."
His team cheered and Harry smiled at them all, feeling responsible for every decision made as the oldest member on the team. Discounting Demelza, who was a sixth year, Harry had at least three years on every other member of his young team. He was the touch of maturity, the role model, the most experienced member of the team and he strived to set a good example for these youngsters.
"Then, let's get to it!" Harry said, picking up his Firebolt and turning towards the entrance to the pitch.
His team followed suit and Harry had a really good feeling today, despite his headache and stomach cramps, he could feel it. They were going to win.
The celebratory party had lasted for hours and Harry had been the centre of attention, despite some of those in his own house who didn't like him as a person, they still appreciated their star Seeker who won them pretty much every game. But Harry had been glad to call it quits and slip away so that he could head for his private rooms for some peace and quiet. His headache was much worse than when he'd played the match, but at least they had won.
His wonderful squad had come through for him and they had, just barely, defeated Hufflepuff two hundred and forty to one hundred and ninety. It had been so very close. There had been a point when Harry had actually thought that they would lose, when they were trailing Hufflepuff by a hundred points. That had been before Harry had spotted the snitch, though.
They had gotten off to a strong start, they had been leading thirty points to nothing and then Hufflepuff's Chasers had finally woken up and gotten involved, blocking all of the Gryffindor passes, expertly intercepting the quaffle, working together and misdirecting Pauley into diving for the wrong hoops so that they could pass at the last second to score. They had rapidly caught up and then overtaken their meagre lead and Harry was impressed that his Chasers had scored six more times under such conditions.
As Harry had come to expect, the Hufflepuff Beaters had aimed solely for him, seeing him as the biggest threat on the team, but Harry could weave and dodge on a broom like a ballet dancer and nothing came close to hitting him. And then he had spotted the snitch. They were a hundred points down, but the snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points, so Harry had chased straight after it.
He was leagues better than the Hufflepuff Seeker. A much better flier, more skilled and more daring. His dive at the end had been nail-biting, breathtaking as he pulled out at the very last second, right before he would have plummeted into the ground, with the golden ball clutched in a tight fist. Gryffindor had won. Albeit by a mere fifty points, but a win was still a win.
They were now sitting pretty at the top of the table with a clean sheet of two wins in two matches. They only had Ravenclaw to beat now, but that wasn't until the end of May and Ravenclaw had lost both of their matches and were currently at the bottom of the table. Harry wasn't overly worried about that match, it was almost assured that Gryffindor would win the Quidditch cup this year and he couldn't wait to tell Rabastan…and rub it in Rodolphus' face.
He entered his private rooms and, with a wave of his wand, he lit the torches around the room and moved straight to the little kitchenette to boil the kettle.
He went to strip off his Quidditch gear, getting into his pyjamas, despite that it was a little early, but he wasn't planning to leave his rooms again tonight. He'd already had a shower, after the match, so he was clean, at least.
He made himself a cup of tea and went right to his settee, sitting and taking a sip, before pulling his translation work towards himself.
The expensive box of chocolates was opened next and Harry smiled as he picked one up and bit into it, thinking of Rabastan. Five months and he would be married to the man he loved. Their honeymoon had been planned, though it was allegedly being kept as a surprise for him. Harry could be pregnant very soon after that if everything went well. He smiled to himself as he started working on the translation, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous laws and strange customs that wizards had kept over the years. Why was it even still a law that members of the Wizengamot couldn't conduct a meeting in full armour? Who would want to wear full armour in a meeting? It was uncomfortable enough at times to sit there for hours wearing dress robes, Harry couldn't imagine enduring a meeting in a full suit of armour.
Harry drank his tea and ate several more chocolates, unwinding from the energetic day. He still loved flying, but he could do without Quidditch. He took a breath and relaxed. He was planning on relaxing for the rest of the evening. All of his homework was done, Gryffindor had won, and he had tomorrow free to do whatever he wanted. It was a very good feeling.
Harry ate one last chocolate, thankful that Rabastan had sent him another box just that morning, as he only had a couple left. He would have to think of something to thank Rabastan with when he got home for the Easter break…perhaps another round of teasing one another into insanity? Harry smiled to himself. That was always fun…until it inevitably went way too far and then they would end up being completely frustrated and irritable.
Harry chuckled to himself and finished off his tea. He would have to make some serious plans to wind up Rabastan because Harry had 'lost' the last time they'd played this game…his youth and inexperience counted against him, he supposed, in that it took very little to get him aroused and in the mood and when he was in that sort of mood he could get hard just from looking at Rabastan. Merlin, he seriously hated the purity clause in his contract, but he did understand that it wouldn't be ideal to have a baby while still in school. Pansy was struggling with her pregnancy and the morning sickness it was causing to the point where it was now affecting her schoolwork and she was falling behind with her homework. Homework club was the only thing that was currently keeping her afloat and Harry had assured her that he would help more if she needed it, despite that it would cut into his own limited free time. But Harry knew himself well enough that he knew he would have hated trying to juggle a pregnancy on top of his schoolwork, his extracurricular work, and he'd have had to miss out on his last year of Quidditch too. So, he'd just have to deal with the frustration, handle himself as much as possible at night, and hopefully, he could drag Rabastan down with him too. That thought made him smile, even as the headache that had plagued him all day sharpened to something painful enough to make him hiss through his teeth, rubbing the heel of his hand against his forehead. He couldn't wait for the Easter break. It couldn't come around soon enough.
Harry was feeling decidedly overwhelmed at the start of the trial of Mister Robert John Redmund-Rutherford. He refused to admit it aloud, but the on-and-off headaches, the stomach ache, the cramping, it was starting to wear him thin. The only thing keeping him going in recent weeks was the thought that, in just a little more than two weeks, he would be going home for a fortnight and he could have a nice, relaxing break from the stresses of everything…and hopefully, he would recover and he'd be able to deal with his final term of schooling and his exams.
It was the sixteenth of March and Harry was not surprised that his rings heated up, and remained heated for several seconds, halfway through breakfast. They were getting an early start today, it seemed. He sighed and stood.
"The trial?" Draco asked, watching him closely, seeing from his body language that he had been summoned.
Harry nodded. "Yes. Hopefully, it doesn't take all week or I'll have too much to catch up on, but I can't shirk my duties to the Wizengamot."
"Go then." Draco encouraged. "I will gather detailed notes and, even if you do come back in the evenings, I will help you catch up."
Harry nodded. "Thank you, Draco."
Harry, having known that the trial would start today as Lucius had sent him an owl telling him so, was already in his court robes…and getting plenty of attention for it too. The students were seeing his 'Lord' persona for the first time, in the flesh, and not merely in photos.
Because he was already dressed the part and didn't need to waste time by going to change, Harry made sure that he drank the little glass of milk he always left until the end, just because he still wasn't fond of it, though he was getting used to the awful taste after so long.
"I'll see you when I can." Harry said quietly.
"Of course." Draco said as Harry turned to leave.
He could apparate then and there, but he wasn't going to do that with such a large audience. Instead, he went into a quiet corner of the Entrance Hall, touched his rings and he arrived smoothly in the Ministry Atrium. He knew to head down to the courtrooms after the trial of Mister Dennis Jute. Merlin, he hoped they didn't have Dementors down there, that would just make his entire day.
Members of the Wizengamot and the Council of Magical Law were already filing into courtroom two, so Harry joined them, greeting those who greeted him, merely nodding his head to others, but otherwise just waiting in line to file into the courtroom.
Once inside, the murmuring of people to distract from his covert seeking, Harry slowly walked the stairs until he spotted the platinum blonde head he was looking for and he slipped through the benches and other people until he could sit himself easily and gracefully between Lucius and Xerxes who had saved him a spot between them, as he had come to expect.
"Harry, everything is well, I hope?" Lucius asked.
Harry nodded. "It is."
"Draco sent us a letter."
"He told me. I have been feeling a little…worse for wear, shall we say, but I've cut down a lot in the last week. Just homework and nothing else in preparation for the stress of this trial."
"Don't feel stressed over it and don't feel the need to speak if you don't want to." Xerxes encouraged him. "The result of this trial is already a done deal. Rutherford will be heading to Azkaban for the rest of his miserable life, no matter what the minority nay-sayers try to pull. He knowingly caused the deaths of twenty-two people, nine of them mere children under the age of six."
"Xerxes is correct." Lucius said. "No matter what argument anyone tries to use, it will not be enough to save Rutherford from Azkaban, the Wizengamot has already decided and anyone trying to talk him out of that sentence will not go down well with the public after what he did, so I imagine even the nay-sayers, as Xerxes has named them, will temper their arguments to merely voicing their displeasure at the sentence, but they won't try to overturn it overly much, lest the public turn on them."
Harry settled a little with that reassurance. He was feeling…not terrible, but also not himself. It was reassuring to hear that he wouldn't have to speak up or debate. Not every lord, or member of the Wizengamot, spoke up during a debate, or even a trial. Some of them, Harry had never heard say a damn word and he had been a member now for almost two years. Some didn't see the need to argue the same point that others had raised, so merely gave their support during voting. Others, Harry feared, didn't have the intelligence to argue a debate given that the title of lord was an inherited one and not one based on skill or IQ. There was no admission test to become a member of the Wizengamot, just bloodlines, and the title of lord, in nearly all cases, went to the oldest, closest male blood relative to the previous lord and not, perhaps, the best person for the title and responsibility.
"I will call you all to order." Minister Pius Thicknesse called out in that mild, almost emotionless tone he used. Harry wondered if that was actually his voice or an effect of the Imperius curse he was under. No one seemed to notice either way.
Those who had been talking softly to neighbours fell into silence as the courtroom door shut on well-oiled hinges with not a whisper of sound.
"Our esteemed Wizengamot have declared a trial and we will now review the collective evidence and decide how to proceed with the alleged criminal."
A wave of a wand and hundreds of folders flew out to every member sitting in the court; the Wizengamot and the Council of Magical Law.
Harry took the folder that floated in front of him and he opened it to the first page, which was a breakdown of what had happened and why the Wizengamot had declared this matter a crime to take to trial.
Courtroom two was silent as the hundred odd members read the folder of information. The rustling of parchment was the only sound in the massive, stone room and the occasional cough or clearing of a throat.
On the second through to the eighth pages were the copies of all the forged documentation that had gotten Rutherford the job. There was a myriad of reports by several lead Law Enforcers following that, as they each detailed the different avenues they'd investigated based on their area of expertise. One, from a specialised Law Enforcer on how the documents were clearly forged, pointing out how she'd been able to tell from her decades of experience. Following that, another lead Law Enforcer who had interviewed the potion's company who had hired Rutherford and found out that he'd been hired for eight months and had then set his team to finding out every single potion that Rutherford had brewed in his eight-month employment, which had led to them finding the additional thirteen deaths that could be pinned to Rutherford's botched potions.
After that, there was written documentation of the preliminary interviews of Rutherford and Harry took care to read those thoroughly, as the man denied that he was the culprit despite being confronted with his own forged certification and details on how many people he had allegedly killed with his botched potions.
The final page was an overview of what laws had been broken, a firm reminder that twenty-two people, including nine children, had lost their lives and that the culprit, if found guilty, faced life in Azkaban. There was a notation, right at the bottom of the final page, that Rutherford continually denied his involvement and that he planned to appeal whatever sentence he was given.
Harry closed the folder and shuffled it on his lap, folding his hands over it primly as he waited for everyone else to finish reading.
It took several more minutes before Thicknesse looked around the room for anyone still reading and then called them to order again.
"Our esteemed members of the Wizengamot have voted on this matter and they have declared that the accused should endure a life sentence to Azkaban. I have reviewed all debates on this matter and conclude that this case is severe enough to warrant the proposed sentence. There will be no option for parole."
"Once again the Wizengamot proves its bias." A member of the Council of Magical Law bit out harshly.
Harry scoffed softly in contempt.
"They'll always say such things." Lucius whispered. "If the Wizengamot disbanded, the power would shift to them."
Harry shook his head. "It's always the same; politics and bullshit go hand-in-hand."
Someone in front of them chuckled at his words but didn't turn around. Harry recognised the back of Lord Sarpedon Carrow.
"I agree." A voice from behind them murmured and Harry recognised Lord Mark Flint's voice. It seemed he had been surrounded by his allies without even noticing.
"I would like to ask what bias the Council believes we've shown." Lord Lawson growled deeply.
"Once again you have voted in favour of a life sentence to Azkaban for a muggleborn man." The same man spoke.
"Councilman." Harry called out, unable to button his mouth despite that he'd been assured he wouldn't have to say anything, he couldn't stop himself. "It is not a matter of blood status here, twenty-two people are dead and the blame for it lies squarely at the accused's feet. What sentence do you believe would have been more fitting than life in this instance? Or perhaps you are proposing that all muggleborn offenders are given more lenient sentences regardless of the terrible crimes they commit merely because of their blood status?" He added sweetly.
The councilman scowled at him, sneering, but Harry kept his smile as there were a few snickers around him.
"If he keeps looking at you like that then he'll meet a terrible end in a dark alley." Xerxes promised.
"Councilman, would you like to carry on this debate?" Thicknesse prompted the silent man firmly.
He shook his head and Harry let out a small, soft giggle. He'd won that round and everyone knew it.
"Decorum, Harry." Lucius chastised gently.
Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing further, but he was smiling still, just slightly.
"I feel that there are other methods of punishment that we can dole out instead of a life sentence." A different councilman tried. "Life in Azkaban is a death sentence, we all know it. We are condemning a man to torture and a slow death."
"Shall I describe to you, in detail, the pain my two-year-old grandson suffered through before his death?" Lord Bole snapped furiously. "Do you want to know how he cried for us, his family, to help him? How, in the end, he had to be heavily dosed with potions just to keep him from screaming and writhing in his pain? He spent the last day of his life unconscious. It took him four days to die from that botched potion…four days and we had to watch him as he died, knowing that there was nothing that could be done to save him. He was two years old! He was still a baby and he died because of this one man and his selfish actions."
"Then, this confirms it!" The first councilman crowed out, sounding almost triumphant after hearing Lord Bole's tragic words. "The Wizengamot is voting for this sentence out of revenge!"
"There is no revenge here, only justice." Xerxes said loudly from beside Harry, his head tipped back enough so that he could sneer down his nose at the councilman. "Twenty-two people have died from one man's actions, nine of them children under the age of six. His only motivation was greed. How can you sit there and claim that life imprisonment is too harsh a sentence for such a person? Where do you get the gall?"
The silence following Xerxes' announcement was ringing.
"I would like to remind the room, particularly the Council of Magical Law, that the decisions of the Wizengamot are not what we are here to debate." Minister Thicknesse said, still bland and emotionless. "We are here to determine if the evidence that has been collected is enough to prove that the accused is guilty of the alleged crime or not."
Harry held back a smirk. There was not a single person in the room who could claim that Rutherford was not guilty. Not with the folder of evidence they had all just read.
"He is guilty." Lord Bole snarled out, daring anyone else to contradict him. No one did. No one spoke.
"Would anyone care to debate against a guilty plea?" Thicknesse asked as if merely inquiring about the weather.
Courtroom two was so silent that Harry could hear his own blood rushing through his ears. No one spoke, no one even shifted their weight on the black stone benches. The moment seemed to last forever.
"Then, it is decided." Thicknesse spoke suddenly, making Harry startle a little, though it saved his pride that he wasn't the only one to do so. Both Xerxes and Lucius laid protective hands on him. "This body has reviewed the evidence provided and decided that the accused is guilty and we will move onto the trial in the coming days."
People started murmuring as they were dismissed. Harry was pleased as it was not even midday yet. He could go home and have some time with Rabastan, have a good lunch, and then be back at the castle for his afternoon lessons.
The three of them joined the throng exiting the courtroom and Harry wasn't surprised that Lucius kept a hand on his elbow at all times and Xerxes followed closely behind him.
"You have certainly fallen into a deep pit." Someone snarled.
Harry didn't even realise that he was being spoken to at first, as he carried on walking.
"I'm speaking to you, Potter!"
Harry blinked at hearing his name and turned curiously to see the same councilman with whom he had gone head-to-head with in the courtroom.
"Not like that you're not." Harry replied coldly.
"Address him with respect or I will ensure you regret it." Xerxes promised, moving protectively in front of him. Harry laid a hand on the thick arm and Xerxes breathed out and stepped back, so Harry was visible.
"Your parents would be ashamed of you." The councilman told him.
"They're very proud of me, actually." Harry replied easily.
"We are." Lucius intoned silkily, grey eyes narrowed, but his back was ramrod straight and his head was tipped back so that he could sneer down his nose at the councilman.
"How easily you forget your own history."
"I've forgotten nothing." Harry said easily. "You're just deflecting from your poor conduct in the courtroom. Wait until the public finds out that you were trying to set free a man who murdered twenty-two people, councilman."
They had gained a small crowd and it didn't slip his notice that both Lord Mark Flint and Lord Sarpedon Carrow stopped and flanked Lucius behind him.
"You used your influence to turn the debate into a stance on blood status!"
"I believe it was you who did as such." Someone said sternly and Harry was very surprised to see Giovanni Rowle push through the crowd of people, staring at the councilman.
"Lord Rowle is correct." Harry said, trying not to show any shock at being backed up by Rowle, of all people. "You're the one who accused the Wizengamot of making this case about blood status, I was merely pointing out that you were the one who was insisting that muggleborns were held to more lenient sentences."
"That isn't what I was doing!"
"Then, you would have argued against a life sentence if it had been a pureblood who had committed this crime?" Harry asked.
The councilman waffled a moment before inflating himself. "Of course I would have!" He exclaimed loudly, as if, somehow, volume could make up for that moment of visible hesitation.
Harry had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from naming the man a liar, but that is exactly what he was and Harry didn't need to point it out verbally, everyone who was there as a witness could see it.
He huffed a small laugh instead. "It is immature to shout across a corridor." He rebuked the man as he turned, heading for the lifts to take him back up to the Atrium.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the councilman turn red-faced with humiliation as Harry chastised him for shouting in public and then walked away from him.
Lucius walked with him, but Xerxes remained behind. Harry wondered if he was threatening the councilman, but then he shook his head. No. Xerxes would do that behind closed doors, he wouldn't do so in public or with an audience. He would just mark the man's face and then make him regret his words.
"Very well handled, Harry." Lucius praised softly. "We will get you home now and you can relax and allow your mother to fuss over you a little. We have been worried about your health."
"There's no need. I'm truly not feeling bad. Not like when I was going through the recovery from hypocalcaemia. The headache is annoying more than distracting because I can't get rid of it, and the stomach aches aren't often, I've only had a couple of those and it was on days where I pushed myself too hard to juggle schoolwork and my extracurricular activities, as you name them. I have cut down and I'm feeling better."
Lucius nodded and, once out of the lifts and across the Atrium, they moved, unaccosted, to the floo banks. Harry went through first and he hurried to the front parlour, where Narcissa was waiting, trying to distract herself with what Harry noticed, with a sinking stomach, was wedding planning as he went to greet her with a kiss on the cheek.
"Don't look so horrified, darling." She teased, tapping gentle fingertips against his jaw. "I am making some final preparations, you don't need to concern yourself with them."
Harry's shoulders relaxed and he hurried to Rabastan, snuggling straight into him and tilting his head back to kiss him.
Harry got a soft peck before he was held tightly and he could feel his body relaxing as he cuddled with Rabastan.
"How was the trial set up?" Rodolphus asked him, a large hand going to his hair and ruffling it rather violently.
Rabastan knocked his brother's hand off of Harry's head and soothed his hair back into place with gentle fingers.
Harry shrugged. "It was fine. It was decided that the accused was guilty of the crime and we'll move onto the proper trial now in the next few days."
"That is it?" Rodolphus asked, sounding disappointed.
"You are such a drama queen, Dolphus." Harry teased. "Nothing happened. I mean, I was accosted outside of the courtroom, but that was easily dealt with."
Rodolphus' brown eyes widened slightly with delight.
"Tell me what happened."
Lucius and Xerxes entered the parlour together, causing a distraction, and Narcissa stood to greet her husband and then called Pimsey for tea to be served.
"Harry says that the court declared the accused guilty." Narcissa said as she fussed with the tea service that Pimsey had quickly delivered.
"We did." Lucius agreed, sitting down and accepting his cup of tea from his wife.
Harry accepted his own tea from Rabastan, who had made it just how he liked it.
"Harry was about to tell us about a confrontation in a corridor." Rodolphus said.
Xerxes actually snarled like some sort of animal and Harry frowned.
"I mean, he was a lying fool, but I've had worse." Harry shrugged.
"That isn't the point." Xerxes told him. "Just the way he was looking at you, the way he was speaking to you and disrespecting you, it makes my blood boil."
Harry felt the tension run through Rabastan and he was half expecting to see an article in the morning paper about that councilman being found tortured to death.
"Harry put him back into his place." Lucius interjected. "He tried to insist that the Wizengamot was once again levying a harsher sentence than necessary upon the accused because of blood status."
"This happens every time a mud…muggleborn commits a crime." Xerxes said, shooting Harry a look for his almost slip-up, but Harry didn't react to it. "The Wizengamot gets accused of handing out life sentences based on blood status and not the crime committed."
"I honestly don't know what they were expecting, of course we decreed a life sentence for this crime, twenty-two people are dead because of what he did." Harry said angrily. "He killed nine children! He knew he didn't have the faintest idea of what he was doing with those potions, he knew he was attempting to brew pepper-up potions for children, and he still let that potion be bottled and prescribed to sick children who then died. What sentence did the Council expect us to give?"
"They argue for the sake of arguing." Xerxes waved off. "It is as Lucius said, if the Wizengamot was disbanded, all our power would filter down to the Council of Magical Law. They would be the ones deciding these things, making laws, presiding solely over trials."
Harry snorted. "If they knew half of what it entailed, I don't think they'd want the responsibility."
"Trying to paint the Wizengamot in a poor light is in their favour, Harry." Lucius told him. "Do not let it bother you overly much, we're all used to it and you will get used to it too, over the coming years."
Harry blew out a breath and settled back into Rabastan's arms. He took a drink of tea and tried to push aside the confrontation.
More surprising to him was that Giovanni had decided to publicly voice his support for him. Even if he had agreed, or thought the same as Harry did, Harry hadn't expected any show of support after what he'd done. After all, he had blackmailed and strong-armed Giovanni into getting Pansy pregnant before Christmas and forced him to take Pansy as his wife under the threat of sending him to prison for a murder he hadn't committed if he refused. In Harry's mind, his actions had been unforgivable and he certainly wouldn't have sided with the one who had treated him in such a way, so why had Giovanni decided to do so? He was going to have to speak to Pansy, carefully, once he got back to Hogwarts to see if she knew where Giovanni's head was at. Perhaps he was happy with Pansy, or the thought of his upcoming fatherhood, and he had decided to let what Harry had done to get them together slip by. No. Probably not, his luck wasn't that good. It was more likely that Giovanni had just felt so strongly about what that councilman was doing and saying that he just couldn't keep quiet as he pushed his way through the crowd. But, he would ask Pansy and see if she could shed some light on the matter, he would be back at the castle after lunch and he would have a few days away from the courtroom before the trial started in earnest and, if today had been a precursor to what was to come, then he was going to be very stressed and angry until the conclusion of the trial. He couldn't wait until it was all over.