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"Harry Potter: The Boy and the Bowtruckle, Harry Potter: The Boy and the Bouncing Bulbs, Harry Potter: And the Nagging Hag, oh and my personal favorite Harry Potter: The Flight of the Phantom, I read it at least six times when it came out!" Nymphadora Tonks spoke to Hermione and Harry as Harry waited in the pre-trial chambers. Usually, people outside of the trial weren't allowed in, but as this was a formal hearing and the plaintiff was young, an exception was made to allow Hermione inside to keep him company. Nymphadora was actually supposed to be on duty protecting the room against intruders, which she had done not five minutes after Harry had gotten there. None other than Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore all but threw the door open and demanded entry to "speak" to Harry, as he put it, much to Harry's relief. His cousin cracked the door slightly. The door cast a petrifying curse on Dumbledore and told him in no uncertain terms that he was to clear off or she would make sure he faced even more charges than he had already had to deal with, witness tampering being the least dramatic of what she said. She then called three extra Aurors to guard the interior or exterior of the door, unfroze him, and sent him packing with an extra Auror escort. Yelling past to Dumbledore's current escort, Robards, that "I WILL BE REPORTING THIS TO MADAME BONES, YOU GREAT PILLOCK!"

Hermione and Harry snickered at Tonks's story about the "Harry Potter" adventure books. As well as the headmaster's face, it was clear he was used to getting what he wanted.

"I knew that the books existed, but I've never sought them out, and I've never heard the titles. Those are great! I wonder who wrote them?"

"I don't know. The author publishes them under a pseudonym, C.R.Ack. That's all that anyone knows."

"Harry, what I want to know is if you receive royalty payments from the publisher that is using your name and likeness to make thousands, if not millions, of galleons."

I'm not sure. I don't have access to anything but my trust vault right now. If I get emancipated, I'm sure I'll be at Gringotts so much they might as well hire me, so I might as well inquire about that while I'm at it, if your father hasn't done it by now. I've noticed he has looked further into things than I expected him to when I hired him.

Tonks giggled at that, relaxing into the chair she was sitting on. "That's Dad for you—'go above and beyond for every client, be they prince or pauper.' I've brought that notion into Auror work as well. I've only been a full Auror for about a year, but I'm already facing a promotion. I doubt I'll get it, but the fact that my name is already in the running speaks volumes to my coworkers. Well, I best get back to guard duty. Best to look serious when my boss comes in to fetch you, which should be in about ten minutes."

Harry and Hermione sat and talked quietly until, true to Tonks's words, her boss entered the room. A man they had been introduced to earlier, Lead Auror Shacklebolt, a large, bald-headed black wizard wearing a spectacular kufi-style hat colored in bright yellow and vivid blues and purples, came and spoke in a deep, slow bass with a slight accent Harry assumed was from an African country. "Miss Granger, you're needed in the chamber. Go with Auror Tonks. Mr. Potter, you come with me. We go a different path, no public access, boss's orders."

The two children stood, and Hermione, never shy with her hugs, gave a warm and strong hug to Harry before stepping away. "Remember, Harry, you've got this. You have everything you need and have done everything right. No matter what, me and my parents are here for you." At that, she turned and exited the room with Tonks. Harry thought he saw a flash of a camera. "Err, Mr. Shacklebolt? The press isn't here, are they?"

"They are, but due to you being a minor, they have been barred from the room. It's only the Wizengamot, the court scribe, and, of course, the witnesses—or, in your case, people giving testimonials."

"Great," muttered Harry. "I didn't want to be a spectacle."

"Sometimes, Mr. Potter, that can't be avoided, especially where celebrities are concerned. Here,"

They stopped in front of a blank wall that seemed like a dead end, but when the older wizard put his hand on the wooden panel, it popped out. As he pushed the door open, Harry saw the conference room for the first time. It was more or less like a Muggle courtroom. The seating where the Wizengamot sat was raised and spread out to allow for comfortable seating. The two tables were spaced a respectable distance from each other, and the gallery was large and flat, with more than enough seating for the people who had shown up. The seating for the Wizengamot was all rich oak with reddish-brown tanned leather padding, thick and luxurious. Harry knew that with the cushioning charms that must be on the chairs, a person could probably sit comfortably for hours on end. The seating and tables for the plaintiff and defendant were the same rich oak, but the seats were indistinguishable from Muggle chairs—a rich sandy brown wood with a soft gray fabric with slight cushioning on the seats and top back panel, but none of these seats had arms to rest on. Amid the gallery seating, from what Harry could see, was the same rich sandy brown wood as the rest of the room, but in bench seating. They looked like church pews to Harry. And this all sat on a well-maintained carpet, the same type of gray as the cushions on the chairs.

Harry was impressed; he hadn't expected the room to be so bright and warm and feel so welcoming, and yet it did. Although he thought that the large, bright windows letting in the morning light might be fake, the light seemed a bit too... static.

The room itself was half empty; plenty of people sat in the gallery, but the defendants' chair was as of yet empty, and he knew the Wizengamot would probably not enter until the hearing actually began.

As Harry entered the room, Shacklebolt went to take his position by the double doors at the rear of the room. At the same time, Ted Tonks stood from the gallery next to Andromeda and the Granger family. The two approached the table, and Ted gestured for Harry to take the farthest seat. As he approached the chair, Harry stood still and, extending his arm to the table, Smara slithered down his arm to rest pointedly exactly in the middle of the table.

"Harry, I don't mean to sound like I disapprove of her presence, but it's probably a bad idea to have Smara staring at the Wizengamot given her nature. It might be considered a threat."

A short bout of hissing preceded Harry, who simply pointed at Smara and said, "Good. If they are to have the courage to attempt to harm my young one, then they should have the courage to stare death in the eyes." Harry shrugged and sat down, causing the lawyer to shake his head and facepalm in exasperation, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "overly protective eel." This caused Smara to release her skittering laughter as he sat down. Getting out four various-sized folders and three scrolls from a suitcase, he used his wand to stick them to his desk before saying, "Geminio," and flicked his wand to scatter copies of the paperwork to the small desks in front of each Wizengamot seat. He then sat down.

As Ted Tonks sat down, another Auror entered through another side panel, and in came Vernon Dursley, followed by Petunia Dursley and Dumbledore. The old man stopped and looked at Harry with what Harry was sure was supposed to be a very disappointed look, before carrying on and pulling out two thin folders and a single scroll. With a single flick of his wand, he copied and sent them flying to the tables next to Mr. Tonks's files before casually taking his seat. Harry looked at his lawyer to see the man staring straight ahead, beaming. It seemed that his cousin was pleased Dumbledore had acted just as he had anticipated. And then two doors opened at the top of the plinth that housed the Wizengamot seats, and out strode in slow and neat parades four lines of witches and wizards wearing deep purple robes. They all appeared to be in a rather old and billowing style that he had often seen in paintings at Hogwarts from the seventeenth century. Harry recognized about half of the faces from the two dinner parties he had attended: Lucius Malfoy and Cyrus Greengrass, who sent a nod in Harry's direction, and Madame Marchbanks, the ancient and brusque witch whom he had met at Neville's gran's dinner. They all seemed to look at the small snake and all seemed to disregard it as a threat, obviously not knowing what Smara is.

Harry gave out a stressed sigh and ran his hands through his hair, making it seem all the more unruly as he waited for the Wizengamot members to make it to their seats. As they walked in, everyone stood. He was already standing, but the entire gallery stood and waited.

When the purple-clad lords and ladies all stilled in front of a seat, a young witch dressed in blue came down from an outer aisle and stood next to the court scribe's desk. She tapped her wand to three different quills that sprang to life, poised to write, and then spoke clearly and with practiced authority.

"Attention, attention, we are now convening this session of the Wizengamot. Please remain standing as the Minister and Chief Warlock administer the opening oaths." She gestures wildly as the door opens and the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, walks in. Harry assumed this is where Dumbledore would normally make his grand entrance as well.

"Yes, ... yes, this is normally where our esteemed chief warlock would start this session, and I would act as a witness. But as our chief warlock is involved in this case, he has been recused. I call for an immediate vote to elect a temporary chief warlock and would like to nominate myself for the sake of expediency. Any other nominees, please stand."

It seemed that the Wizengamot was of a like mind to Fudge, as no one stood in nomination. So after a minute, Fudge once again approached the podium.

"Excellent! I accept the position of Chief Warlock. My undersecretary shall fill my role as witness. Come here, Dolores. Yes, good, good."

Now, as Chief Warlock, I open this session of the Wizengamot to hear the cases of Potter v. Dursley and Potter v. Dumbledore. Due to the connected nature of these cases, it has been determined to hold both hearings together.

Would all members of this body raise your right hands and repeat after me?" What followed was a very spaced out and drawn out oath promising to be open to the truth, to be attentive, and to judge without bias, that Harry only half listened to.

"All may be seated, and I believe it is time for opening statements." Fudge sat in the middle chair on the highest platform and, to Harry at least, seemed rather pleased with himself.

Harry and Ted didn't bother to sit down. Since he was the plaintiff, it was Ted who would make the first statement.

Ted cleared his throat. "Lords and ladies of this esteemed body, my name is Theodore Tonks. I have been through a roller coaster this past month since this young man sought me out. Through this hearing, I will impart to you the story of a boy. Not just any boy, but in my opinion at least, an extraordinary young man. A true-to-life Greek tragedy that would make Plato himself weep in his grave. A story of loss, loneliness, hunger, and every type of pain you can imagine. A story of abandonment.

This young man standing here has been failed so spectacularly by our society that I can only agree with his conclusion, which is to seek emancipation from all parental authority and to legally allow him to do what he has been doing since the age of four: raise and look after himself.

Ladies and lords of the Wizengamot, my client is seeking and asking for total emancipation from his Muggle and magical guardians. And I will endeavor to convince you just why this is necessary.

Ted gestured for Harry to sit, and the two sat together and, as one, turned to watch Dumbledore as the old man stood up slowly and gingerly, as one would expect from an ancient wizard.

"Lords and ladies," Dumbledore spoke slowly, making sure to turn periodically and face the entire body as he spoke. "My, it is a rare treat to be on this side of the gamut." He spoke serenely, as if he hadn't just been in this same position before this case started. The other lords and ladies didn't seem impressed.

"What we have here today is what happens when a child is given too much leeway. A loud and fraudulent tantrum thrown by a boy barely entering adolescence. A premature rebellion for a boy who has spent his entire life safely in a home in the Muggle world. Upon learning of the magical world, he decided to prove just how "special" he is. He plans on using his minor celebrity status to "free" himself from the constraints of oversight so he can run as wild as he wants without fear of reprimand. Will you be responsible for removing a young boy from his rightful blood guardians? Thank you for your time, lords and ladies."

Fudge stood and looked around the bright room at all the members of the Wizengamot and the people sat in the gallery waiting their turn. "Ladies and gentlemen, I think we must prepare ourselves for a long and arduous day. Mr. Tonks, you have brought with you a mountain of parchment into the courtroom for us. Why don't you start off and elucidate the contents of these folders and files?" Fudge looks down at the Muggle-born lawyer genially and with a friendly smile that Harry had seen on many politicians while Uncle Vernon had watched the news while he was cleaning the house around him.

"Thank you, Acting Chief Warlock. I have brought with me Harry's medical record from St. Mungo's. I requested it from Hogwarts as well but was denied a few days ago and did not have time for an appeal for ministerial intervention. I also brought with me six letters of sponsorship from the adults in Harry's life who know him best and support his bid for emancipation. Also, three proclamations of support from three Wizengamot members, one of which has the signatures of five other non-member ancient or noble houses. I have also brought, through much trouble and time to acquire them, both of the last wills and testaments of Harry's parents, Lord James Potter and Lady Lily Potter." At this, Dumbledore shot from his seat much faster than his earlier display of feebleness would indicate possible.

"I object!, Acting Chief Warlock. I know for a fact that the Ministry copies of those wills have been sealed until Harry himself reaches his majority and claims them himself." Dumbledore said this in a voice ringing with power and authority. It seemed to fill every space in the room.

Before Fudge could respond, Mr. Tonks stood and said very calmly, in great contrast to Dumbledore, "If you please, Acting Chief Warlock, I can explain why these copies would be allowed." After a nod of consent from Fudge and the other two next to him on the dias, Ted Tonks continued.

"My wife, Andromeda Tonks, was once Andromeda Black, a name I can see we are all familiar with. A long and storied name, but now it is only said in relation to the name "Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer and-" he pauses and looks at Harry with sad eyes. "And the man responsible for betraying the Potters to You-Know-Who. I have long heard stories from my wife about this man. Her troubled youth in the Black family matches his own, and they were both in our social circle, called "the white sheep of the Black family." In these stories, I heard just how close this man was to James Potter, and so after learning that Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot, and ex-Minister Bagnold had, by Ministry decree, sealed the "official" copies in the Ministry archives to all except an of-age Harry Potter, for his own protection, of course.

I took a chance. I petitioned Madam Bones of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to allow me a supervised visit with Lord Black inside Azkaban. And after a few days of pleading—"Mr. Tonks looked beside Fudge to Madam Bones, whom Harry recognized as a woman from Madam Longbottom's dinner."—she relented and sent me and a contingent of four Aurors to the island. Once there, they sat me in a chair and dragged in a creature I barely recognized as human. After I explained my visit, he was, I must say, quite happy to help. He wrote a note of permission and gave me a vial of his blood so the goblins could identify in the most secure way that Lord Black had given his permission for me to search the Black family vault and retrieve those copies you now hold, Acting Chief Warlock, still sealed with the Black family seal. Acquired by Sirius from the previous Lord Black, Arcturus, there are with me two pipettes that contain Lord Black's blood. I will hand these over when the court is ready to examine the wills.

"In the blue folders at the bottom of the pile are financial records from Gringotts that indicate Dumbledore has been stealing from the Potter family for at least the past twelve years."

More than a few heads turned scornfully toward Dumbledore at that last quick pronouncement, as Mr. Tonks sat back down, smirking.

After collecting himself, Fudge looked over at Dumbledore and, seemingly trying to keep any air of derision from his voice, said through a tight smile, "And, Mr. Dumbledore, could you please also elucidate your own—" gesturing with a waving hand at the two folders and thin scroll that sat on his desk "—evidence?"

At this, Dumbledore swooped from his chair, in which he had sat back down once Ted had begun speaking again.

"Yes, Acting Chief Warlock, I have brought no less than ten letters—five from child development experts—decrying a child so young living on his own. I have also brought Harry's school and incident record from the Office of Accidental Magical Catastrophes and the Misuse of Magic Office, as well as his Hogwarts medical file." (indicating the scroll)

"Very well, Mr. Tonks, why don't you begin?" Fudge said without standing.

"Very well, Acting Chief Warlock, to begin, I'd like to call Harry Potter to stand before the Wizengamot." A chair appeared in the center of the room between the two tables and the Wizengamot. Harry slowly stood and, looking to Ted for confirmation, at a nod, he walked slowly to the chair before sitting down.

"Mr. Potter, can you tell us your name, please?"

"Harry Potter, sir."

"And how old are you, for the record?"

"I just turned 12, sir, a few days ago."

"Good, good. Now, Harry, can you recount the events that led you to contact me?"

"Err... yes. You see, I had been at the Dursley house for-"

"The Dursley house? Not home? Not my house? You refer to the building as the Dursley house?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well, continue, Harry. I apologize."

"Well, er, like I said, I had been back at the Dursleys' house for a few weeks at that point, back from my first year at Hogwarts. And, well, my uncle and I do our best to avoid being near each other. But that day in mid-July, both our tempers boiled over. I had been in the garden all day, weeding, hoeing, and sowing my aunt's summer flower bed, repainting the fence, the garden bench, seeding the greenhouse, and cleaning the algae out of the fountain bird bath. And Vernon comes home from work and starts tearing my day's work apart like he could do everything five times better and three times faster, and why couldn't I have gotten my room, Dudley's room, the kitchen cleaned and organized, and the cupboard under the stairs? I had told him that if he thinks he can do better, he can do it next time, and I'll sit my fat behind on the couch, stuffing cakes and creams into my gob by the pound. That might have been rude, but at the time I was hot, tired, and angry, and I didn't care. Still don't, actually. It's true."

"Suffice it to say, your relatives and you do not get on well."

"That's putting it mildly, sir. My aunt and I, in the last few months, have come to an understanding. But my uncle and my cousin would, I'm sure, like to see me dead if it meant they could be rid of me without going to jail themselves. He's tried a few times over the years, mind you."

"So, your uncle comes home in a bad mood and starts to verbally attack you. How long does this go on for?"

"Hours, Vernon works from eight until four, and our actual fight didn't happen until closer to ten."

"So, let's jump forward from there. He's verbally abusive all day, and then what happens?"

"Well, like I said, I got a little shirty with him, and he swung and hit me square in the jaw. I went to hit him back, but Smara reacted to the physical violence and lashed out."

"And Smara is?"

Harry gestures behind him toward the table. "My familiar. She's a basilisk that I met while at Hogwarts." At this, Smara allows her size to increase noticeably and bows her head, and the Wizengamot members subsequently begin to freak out until Harry speaks again. "But don't worry, she knows not to look at anyone and has inner eyelids that filter the death or even petrification from her eyes." At this, Mr. Tonks himself walks up to Smaragain now 8 feet in length—and stares into her eyes for all to see.

"We would like to draw attention to the top form on your pile. Those are copies of Mr. Potter's Dangerous Beast Registry and Familiar Tag. Anyway, Harry, please continue."

"Well, like I said, Smara lashed out. I tried to get her to stop, but to her, I'm her familiar, not the other way around, and she doesn't always listen to me. So, she petrified my uncle so he wouldn't attack me again. Then, I ran and grabbed the keys from my uncle and went and got my wand from the cupboard under the stairs."

"Your relatives had your wand locked up?"

"Not just my wand, but all my school things. They hate magic, so the day I got back, they locked it up."

"The day you got back?"

"Yes, sir. My relatives weren't at King's Cross to pick me up, so I had to walk. I never would have made it if my trunk didn't have a built-in featherlight charm on it. It's a 10-hour walk from London to Privet Drive. Tack on time to beg a map off a store owner, figuring out how to read the map, and time to navigate and correct my course because I made some mistakes. Also, even with a featherlight charm, carrying a Hogwarts trunk across the country is tiring and awkward. It took me almost 20 hours just to get to their house."

"Why didn't you take a bus, train, or taxi?"

"I didn't have any pounds on me, no Muggle money."

"Did you have a few sickles on you?"

"Yes, sir."

"So why didn't you call the Knight Bus?"

"I didn't know it existed, sir. I know next to nothing about the magical world, and aside from how to get into Diagon Alley, nothing was explained to me when Dumbledore sent Hagrid to give me my Hogwarts ticket and take me shopping for my school things."

This got a few more nasty looks sent Dumbledore's way, who visibly quelled and cringed at the looks directed at him. Ted continued. "So, you retrieved your wand. What did you do then?"

"Oh, I just started firing random spells into the back garden of the Dursleys' house. I know that if I did, some adult from the Ministry would come, and he could get some help for my uncle."

"Help? Why would you help him? Harry, the man was abusive toward you, hitting you not a minute before, and you go breaking wizarding law just so you can get ahold of someone.

And come to think of it, why didn't you use the patrol alert spell? I hadn't thought to ask you that before."

"The what, sir?" Harry looked genuinely confused, and this derailed the entire hearing.

At the every adult in the room slowly swung their head to face Dumbledore before Minister Fudge stood up. "Mister Potter, we here at the Ministry are aware that magical emergencies can happen even in a Muggle house. There exists a spell, a spell that is taught to all wizarding children at least at eleven, but is often times taught as soon as they can talk. The spell is "Pacis Costodes" or peace keepers. It sends out a ping of who and location for the magical law enforcement patrol to apparate to. This is basic information that all children in our world are to be aware of." He turns to the gallery and spots Hermione. "You, girl, were you aware of this spell?"

"Yes, sir," said Hermione.

"And how did you come across this knowledge?" asked Minister Fudge's Undersecretary, sitting to his left.

"Professor McGonagall told me when she delivered my letter that it was her duty as my magical guardian."

At that, Fudge turned back to Albus, almost seething.

"Speaking as Minister of Magic, I want all incidents of underage magic stricken from Mr. Potter's record from this moment on."

Now, I believe we have derailed this hearing long enough. Please continue, Mr. Tonks.

"Yes, Minister," said Ted, bowing.

"Please continue, Harry. You fired spells off."

"Yes, err...well, a man showed up. I'm sorry, I'm having trouble remembering his name. He was an abbot, though."

"Martin Abbott?" interjected the lawyer.

"Yes, him. He surveyed the situation for a second, scanned my uncle, asked me what happened, and poured a potion, the 'Mandrake Restorative Draught,' into my uncle's mouth. He unfroze almost immediately. After that, my aunt sent me to bed, and the next day we went to the Ministry and talked to Wizarding Child Services and the Muggle Liaison Office. After a few scans and telling them what we wanted, we were directed toward your office, Phisk Tonks Law Wizards."

"Upon meeting me, what did you do?"

"I told you all this, plus more, about my year at Hogwarts and Dumbledore seizing my mail, using his magical guardianship to set up an apparent mail ward.

"And that brings me to the first two pieces of parchment I would like the Wizengamot to examine."

"The first, marked with a purple tag to match the Wizengamot's regal attire, is a sworn statement from Petunia and Vernon Dursley detailing not only their, let's say, distrust of magic (pertinent points highlighted in orange) and both adults' assurance in their beliefs that emancipation for Harry is not only a good outcome but necessary to preserve who Harry is as a person (pertinent points highlighted in blue). The second is Harry's medical records and full medical history after Mrs. Petunia Dursley and I rushed Harry to St. Mungo's for an OPCEC scan after he related that his familiar was using her kind's mysterious abilities to counteract mind magics." Ted stops there and allows the purple-clad lords and ladies to read the papers before starting again.

"In the medical records, you will see the full and sad life story of Harry James Potter. Malnutrition. Starvation. Poorly healed broken bones. Organ scarring. Defensive scarring. Lashes from a belt across his back. And worst of all, magic untraceable, long-placed compulsions, and directive charms not used since the Imperius and all prerequisite spells were forbidden. Illegal charms placed on a boy so that he wouldn't fight, wouldn't run away, would be meek and accept that his life was worthless and he deserved to be beaten. Spells that would make him loyal and subservient to the caster.

On top of that, more recent potions: the forgetfulness draught, the memory-building potion, loyalty potions so that he would be loyal to the brewer, but the potions were charmed so that the key was destroyed as soon as a scanning charm was used.All potions in his system were detailed to have been administered during his time at Hogwarts. And that's only the most noticeable and detectable. There were countless charms and enchantments laid on the boy that the OPCEC couldn't identify, but when purged, left Harry unconscious for nearly an HOUR! Charms and potions dating back nearly a DECADE that only ceased to function when this glorious creature's venom entered Harry's bloodstream and formed a familiar bond. Even after that, it took until the summer holidays to fully clear away any active vestiges of magic. I am not one to levy accusations against anyone without proper evidence, but there has been only one wizard who has had access to Harry since he was barely 15 months old, aside from one or two of us running into him in a crowded street.

This, lords and ladies, is why we are seeking total emancipation for Mr. Potter. Every adult in the magical world has failed Harry for the last twelve years that these conditions were allowed to continue simply because the Chief Warlock patted us on our heads and said everything was peaches and sunshine with regards to Mr. Potter. Not only that, putting him with a family that will treat him like a princeling and ruin the wonderful young man he is—the simple fact is no adult in the magical world has earned the right to have him. We are all failures." With that, Ted sat down, indicating that he was finished with his questions for now. He was breathing heavily, most likely out of pure irritation. The entire room was silent as Dumbledore slowly stood to speak, yet he remained silent. He stood looking at the Dursleys with almost shocked eyes.

'What's wrong? Get a move on, Dumbledore. Fudge spouted from Dumbledore's normal seat.

"Yes... Harry, perhaps you could tell the court the events of the second of June? If you're shaky on the details, I can recount them."

"No, Headmaster, I remember. It started my first night at-"

"just the night of june the second please harry."

"but thats horrifically out of cont-"

"If you will not, then I will, lords and ladies. On the night of the second of June, young Harry here was found deep inside a forbidden and locked corridor where I was holding a certain powerful magical object for a dear friend. I found him there in possession of said magical artifacts, surrounded by the cremated remains of a teacher. This matter is now currently under investigation by the DMLE, and by all reports given to my office as Chief Warlock and the Headmaster, it appears that young Mister Potter somehow deduced what I was holding and succumbed to the allure of the riches and power it guarantees any who wields it. He flouted dozens of school rules, destroyed four magical artifacts, and killed two beings: one teacher and one security troll I had hired to assist in guarding the area, all to steal and abscond with my friend's treasure. That is just a taste of the attitude Mr. Potter has displayed towards the rule of law. He thinks himself above it, and it is only with my firm hand that will keep him in check until he has learned to behave properly. Lords and ladies, Mr. Potter needs to be reined in and put in check so that he can learn how to behave."

I admit I grossly overestimated the Dursleys' ability to care for Mr. Potter and teach him the correct life lessons. It appears that all young Harry has learned at the knee of Muggles is not humility and caring, as I had hoped, but deceit, stealth, and manipulation. I took a step back and away from Harry, leaving him with his blood relatives, but once we are finished here today, I shall take him back to Hogwarts, and he will be taught at and over MY knee. Towards the end of the old man's speech, his voice had faltered. Gone were the grandfatherly tones, and in their place was the sharp bite of a viper—at least to Harry's thoughts. He was starting to get worried again, but I looked at Ted, who was still smirking, if not even more widely than before, before standing up.

""I'd like permission to address the stand, please, Chief Warlock."

"Oh, hmmm, yes, it's irregular but not disallowed. Please continue, but make it fast, please.""Thank you, Chief Warlock. Harry, would you say that the Headmaster's recollections are accurate?""In spirit, yes, but not the facts.""What do you mean, 'the facts'?"

"Everything he said is true, but not accurate. I have already given my memories of that night and given them to the DMLE, to Madam Bones herself."

"I was out of bed that night, and I did go down that forbidden corridor, but before I did that, I tried everything I could to get an adult to help me and my friend, Hermione Granger. We figured out what was down that corridor early on in the year, just after Christmas, actually, from talking with Hagrid, who is not very good at keeping secrets. It just took one mistakenly dropped name for us to work it out. And before that, a little before Halloween (and I admit I wander around the school at night), I got lost and found myself between a locked door and Argus Filch. There are tons of locked doors in Hogwarts, and a simple unlocking charm is all it took to get behind that one. Well, a Cerberus was there. So we knew where the forbidden corridor was, and we avoided it like the plague after that. Then, on the night in question, we had finally worked out that someone in the school, a teacher, was trying to steal the artifact after Hagrid told us about meeting a stranger in the pub in Hogsmeade and discussing "Fluffy," the Cerberus. So we ran." We ran straight to Professor McGonagall, asking to see Dumbledore to warn him. But she said that Dumbledore had left, that he had received an alert from the Minister, and he rushed off. Only he decided to fly a BROOM to London instead of Flooing straight there like anyone would do in a real emergency. Dumbledore's head had snapped straight to Harry, a twinkle in his eye gone, face wide in disbelief. And he looked over at Samira, who was staring straight at him.

Harry continued through this interaction, unable to see it. "Well, I threw caution to the wind and told her what we figured out, what was happening, and that we suspected our Defense teacher, Quirrell. But she brushed us off, so we did what we had to. We went to that corridor, played music to put Fluffy to sleep, used a Solar Light spell to get through Devil's Snare, used my skills as a Seeker to catch a Daedalion key and unlock a door. Our friend Ron played us through a giant wizard's chess set, sacrificing himself so that we would win. (He was bandaged up afterward, a few pinches of Skelegro, and he was fine again.) The troll we didn't even fight; the poor thing was thrown against a far wall with its head removed. I'm a powerful wizard for my age, but I'm still a first-year; I can't do stuff like that! Finally, Hermione solved a logic puzzle from our potions teacher, Snape; she couldn't follow me through; there was only enough potion for one, and it didn't refill after I drank it. But Smara was with me, shrunk down, so she slid off my shoulders and climbed through a pipe, and I went through the flame. When I came out, I saw him standing in front of a mirror, muttering to himself. The mirror is another magical artifact, the Mirror of Erised. Well, he had me in robes pretty much instantly, and he eventually got the idea to use me to get the stone for him. So he did, and I did; it somehow found its way to my pocket. And that's when he started to choke me. The last flash of sensation I have was Smara leaping at him from high up on the wall, growing before her mouth made impact, and carrying them both away. His arm was turning black from the bite and spreading quickly. He used his wand then and cast some spell at me. It destroyed my lungs according to Madame Pomfrey. It's probably in those files Dumbledore gave you. I don't remember anything after a few seconds of that spell's impact before I woke up in the hospital wing three days later, and she kept me until the end of term. These are the facts that Dumbledore missed, and judging by his face there, I don't think he expected me to remember any of this.We told you, Dumbledore. All spells and memory charms were erased. If they were recent enough, I remember everything, but the older memories were damaged beyond recall, just blurs now..

"Thank you, Harry, for clarifying the Chief Warlock's story. And as a point of order, I'll direct you to the third scroll in the bin with the yellow and black ribbon. That is a directive from the DMLE that arrived just this morning, clearing my client of all wrongdoing in the death of Quirinus Quirrell. The Wizengamot moved as one to unfurl the aforementioned scroll and quickly read it, except for Madam Bones—after all, she had written it.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. You may take your seat again," said Fudge from his high chair. Harry stood and bowed to the Wizengamot before returning to the table next to his solicitor."If it pleases the Wizengamot, I would like to discuss a point that Mr. Dumbledore brought up and is a noted requirement to obtain emancipation in already established procedures: Harry's school record."

"Yes, a fine way to proceed. You have the floor, Mr. Tonks."

The man bows to the dais before continuing."One's school record is vastly important for how N.E.W.T.s affect the very careers open to us in our world. The grades one receives are powerful indicators of one's ability to self-govern and a future ability to take care of your needs as an adult. After all, how can you have a job and have money to care for yourself if you don't have the required scores?

Yet, in Mr. Potter's case, I would argue that these scores, while still important, are not indicators of one's future ability to provide a stable living. After all, we have only one year of grades to determine anything, and like any Muggle-born, they vary wildly through his first year as new concepts are introduced. But like any ancient and noble family, Harry's ability to provide is not predicated on his ability to earn a career. I will not say the exact numbers that I was able to get from Gringotts, but the Potter family fortune alone contains enough wealth that Harry and Harry's future children in perpetuity would never have to work a day in their lives and still buy whatever could possibly catch their fancy. The business partnerships and investments in the Muggle side of things bring in several million pounds a year. Converted to the galleon, it is over sixty thousand galleons a year—more than the income of fifty average families' yearly income combined. His trust vault alone has a standard of five thousand galleons in it for a given year of spending, which is four average families' yearly income. Suffice it to say, my lords and ladies, that even if Mr. Potter were to get a troll in every single owl, he would still be able to live a life worth living. But despite him knowing that every indication shows he will have a strong academic record, he and his friend, Muggle-born Hermione Granger, have been jockeying back and forth for the top spot in their year since Halloween. I ask, does my client's academic record and family wealth prove an ability to care for himself? I ask for an immediate vote on this issue so that it is cleared from our worry today.

Dumbledore was about to say something, but Fudge cut across him."I quite agree. These issues are not worth hearing arguments on. Please raise your wand if you are in agreement that Harry James Potter's educational record and available family wealth indicate that if emancipated, he can take care of and provide a suitable living for himself."Sixty-three wands raised. That vote at least was unanimous. Harry sighed in relief."As acting Chief Warlock, I call this hearing in recess. Please be back here in exactly one hour and thirty minutes."

Standing to follow Ted out of the room through the little hidden door they had entered through, he saw a clock on the wall he had missed and was shocked to see that it was one in the afternoon. Somehow, three whole hours had slipped by. He hurried to follow Ted and their Auror escort to find lunch and Andromeda and Hermione waiting for them in the hidden room.


Whew! Okay, it's taken me forever to get around to writing this. Sorry to my long-time readers.

And welcome to the slew of fresh favorites I've received in the past couple of days. Almost 100 favorites—I truly can't believe it!