Hermione noticed she was getting rather more stares than she had been expecting as they returned to the courtroom, she and Harry retaking their seats.

"Why are they staring now?" Hermione groused. "I already gave my testimony."

Harry looked at her with empathy in his eyes.

"No idea, but I'm sorry," he said, commiserating. "I know it's awful. Hopefully something else will come up that they'll want to stare at instead."

Luckily, it wasn't long in coming; as soon as the trial resumed, Ulfric stood, looking calm and prepared.

"The Defense calls Alastor Moody to the stand."

There was a loud murmur through the crowd as people sat up straighter, looking interested, and a grizzled old Auror came out from the door closer to the Defense's side, one eyeball whirling around in its socket.

"He was there, in the room," Harry whispered. "I remember his eye."

Hermione could remember him all too vividly too.

"State your name and who you are for the record, please," Ulfric prompted.

"I'm Alastor Moody, Auror for over fifteen years," he growled. "Can we get on with it? Everybody knows my name."

"My apologies," Ulfric said with a smooth smile. "Protocol, you know. Mister Moody, will you tell us what happened on afternoon of April 14th?"

"Some of it," Moody snapped. "Other parts you're not cleared to know."

Ulfric continued smiling. "What you can tell us, then."

Moody looked highly annoyed to be there at all.

"Fudge asked me to come out of retirement to help figure out the Chamber of Secrets mess after the Travers girl was attacked," he said curtly. "I'd been investigating into old Death Eater's heirs and bloodlines for potential culprits when we got word the monster had been defeated. I insisted on going along, and before we were to go down to the Chamber, suddenly these kids were sprinting and shooting spells in the hallway, hissing in Parseltongue as they dueled."

"I went after them, of course," Moody said, "and when I got there, Rookwood there was already bound up."

"And when you arrived," Ulfric prompted, "what did you find?"

Moody growled.

"A Dark ritual, set up to snap into place," he said darkly. "It's an old Dark protection ritual, one that's fatal to people who try to break through the shield it sets up. She didn't get to enact it, though – the other kids were still dueling her before she could, I heard."

"What else?"

Moody gave him a nasty look.

"I found a very Dark object," he spat.

"Which was?"

Moody looked furious, like he was very carefully choosing his words.

"It was that pendant," he finally. "The pewter one of the Dark Mark."

"A pendant?" Ulfric's voice had a false innocence to it. "How could a pendant possible be a very Dark object?"

"That's classified," Moody shot back, and Ulfric looked smug.

"If it is classified, then," he said, "perhaps you can give us the unclassified details. In your expert Auror opinion, with over 15 years of experience in the field, do you think such a Dark object would be capable of mentally possessing a fifteen-year-old girl?"

"Without a doubt," Moody growled. "100%."

There was a shocked murmur through the crowd.

"Just to clarify," Ulric said, "you are saying that if Rhamnaceae Rookwood had been wearing this pendant, it could have mentally possessed her somehow through its Dark magic?"

"That is exactly what I am saying and you know it," Moody snarled. "You just wanted me to repeat it, you scoundrel."

There was a tittering in the crowd, and Dumbledore hit his gavel.

"Alastor, please treat everyone with respect in this courtroom." There was a sigh in Dumbledore's voice, and Hermione wondered how much interaction he'd had with Moody before.

Moody just glared at Dumbledore, defiant. Ulfric seemed unfazed by the snide comments.

"No more questions," he said, shooting a challenging smirk at Alexandra, who immediately stood from her desk.

"Mister Moody, in your expert opinion as an acclaimed Auror of over fifteen years, do you think Rhamnaceae Rookwood is responsible for the attacks at Hogwarts with the basilisk?"

"Yes," Moody said emphatically, his eyes alight with hatred. "Dark object be damned, it's a necklace. She'd have to have put it on for it to have worked and possessed her, and if she was choosing to be possessed by a Dark object, that's on her, 'innit? Where'd she get it? The necklace couldn't have given it to her itself. And she had a flask of blood from You-Know-Who – the necklace certainly didn't get that for her!"

There was a loud clamor at that, people looking around with wide eyes and talking wildly. Dumbledore banged the gavel several times for silence, and eventually the crowd quieted.

Even Alexandra looked shaken by that pronouncement, but she determinedly carried on.

"Do you have any idea where she might have gotten such things?" Alexandra asked.

"I don't know where she got them," Moody growled, shooting a dark look at the defending barrister, "but if I had to venture a guess, her uncle Augustus who's a rotting Death Eater in Azkaban might have had something to do with it."

"Objection!" Ulfric banged his fists on the table. "Speculation!"

"Objection! The witness is offering his expert opinion as an Auror!"

"Objection! The witness is clearly biased – he was the one who arrested Augustus Rookwood!"

As the two lawyers approached Dumbledore's desk to argue, Harry turned to Hermione, his eyes wide.

"Voldemort's blood, Hermione?" he hissed. "How did you get that? I thought he was dead!"

Hermione bit her lip hard.

"I will tell you this summer," she promised, keeping her voice low. "It's a complicated story, but I will tell it to you, I promise. But not here."

Harry looked at her with open suspicion, which made Hermione's heart crack.

"Can you summarize?" he challenged.

Hermione thought.

"I got it from the real Heir," she said finally. "He's not a threat anymore; I took care of that. But I did get his blood."

Whatever Harry had been expecting her to say, it wasn't that. He looked very puzzled for a few moments, before his green eyes were sharp on hers.

"Does the Heir want to kill me?" Harry asked quietly.

"Not to my knowledge," Hermione responded honestly. "And at any rate, he's locked away, and he doesn't even have magic anymore."

Harry looked satisfied by that.

"You make it really hard to trust you sometimes, Hermione," he said, shaking his head. "If wasn't certain you'd defend me with your life…"

Hermione was surprised. "You think I'd defend you with my life?"

Harry's lips quirked. "Wouldn't you?"

"Well, yes, but—"

Harry laughed and took her hand again, squeezing it.

"You rescued me from my relatives, and you bound yourself to me in the coven," Harry said. "I reckon you'd risk your life to save any of us in the coven bond, Hermione, without even pausing to think."

Hermione bit her lip.

"Yeah," she admitted. "I probably would."

Harry grinned at her, squeezing her hand again.

"And that," he said, "is why I trust you. You might get up to some dodgy sneaky Slytherin stuff, Hermione, but your heart's in the right place."

The bickering over Moody's testimony went on a long time. After his suspicions were struck from the record, the defense challenged the validity of the blood found at the scene, and a representative from the Department of Mysteries had to be summoned to come up, testifying on how they had ascertained that the blood had indeed come from the Dark Lord.

Hermione was surprised when the Unspeakable testified that they had been able to tell the blood was from when he was sixteen years of age, which she found fascinating. How had they been able to ascertain his age? She'd have thought they traced magical signature or DNA or the depth of darkness somehow. Maybe his darkness wasn't as dark yet, so they had estimated sixteen?

This reveal helped Ulfric's case, as he now argued that because the blood was so old, it could clearly have been hidden somewhere in the castle to be used by the next person to come along and open the Chamber. Alexandra had objected, arguing that it could have just as easily been passed from Death Eater to Death Eater, waiting for the right time for it to be used, and the two bickered, calling frequent objections on the other as the evidence was discussed.

Hermione found it odd how they were all just now just assuming it had been the Dark Lord who opened the Chamber the first time. Or were they? Or was invoking You-Know-Who just sort of carte blanche to blame all things Dark magic things on?

The last witness was Rhamnaceae herself. Ulfric guided her through her testimony, having her recount her lack of memories around each of the attacks, from Halloween up through the one on Professor Burbage, before finally moving on to Malfoy.

"I don't know where I was," she admitted. "I remember the argument with Malfoy, but the next afternoon… I don't remember where I was after Potions," she said, shaking her head. "It's all empty, just kind of a blur. I only realized I was in the middle of a fight when all of a sudden Granger was cursing me, there was blood all around, and the necklace was hissing in front of me as it melted."

"And this is all you recall?"

"I don't remember any of the attacks," Rhamnaceae insisted. "And I couldn't have been controlling the monster – I would have never attacked Lilian! She's one of my best friends!"

Ulfric looked satisfied.

"Miss Rookwood, do you believe your actions were controlled by this Dark pendant?"

Rhamnaceae's eyes flew to Hermione's, and Hermione's eyes widened.

Oh no

It was clear that Rhamnaceae didn't believe it, not one bit. She blamed Hermione for it, she knew it was her behind it somehow, maybe from Hermione's remarks to her as she was being carried away, maybe for her bet against Lilian before Christmas. But to say that now… to say that now, when blaming the pendant might be the only thing to get her off free…

"I don't remember anything to really say what I did or did not do at all around the attacks," Rhamnaceae said finally. "All I can really say is apparently I was speaking Parseltongue, and now I can't do that. And it was as if I was transported from right after Potions class into the middle of being cursed by Potter and Granger while the Dark object was destroyed in front of me."

Pleased, Ulfric nodded and turned to Alexandra. "Your witness."

Alexandra wasted no time, sweeping to her feet in her black velvet robes, standing with her arms folded.

"Miss Rookwood," she said. "If you could have used the basilisk to attack Hermione Granger, would you have done so?"

Rhamnaceae's eyes sharpened.

"I didn't have control of anything, didn't you hear?" she spat. "I don't remember any of it—"

"That is not what I said," Alexandra interrupted, her voice clear. "I am not saying that you could have. I am inquiring into the purely hypothetical. If you could have used the basilisk to attack Hermione Granger, Miss Rookwood, would you have done so?"

Rhamnaceae gnashed her teeth.

"Yes," she admitted finally. "Yes, okay?! I hate her! I would have, if I had actually been the Heir."

She glared defiantly at Hermione, who did not move.

"And if you were told that that power would be given to you, if all you needed to do was don and trust a strange necklace, would you have clasped it around your neck?" Alexandra continued. "How much would your hatred have motivated you?"

Rhamnaceae looked torn at that one, struggling as a battle of emotions fought across her face.

"I don't know," she said finally. "I don't know. But if that choice was ever offered to me, I certainly don't remember it."

"Then I have no further questions."

Alexandra returned to her seat, and Ulfric stood.

"The Defense rests," he said.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, banging his gavel loudly. "My fellow Wizengamot members, the time has come to render judgement. Madam Wand, Mister Karlsson, please proceed with your closing arguments."

Both of the barristers stood, and the Wizengamot all shifted, seeming to sit up straighter, their eyes alert, and they each picked up a paddle from their desk. Dumbledore looked out at the courtroom, evaluating, before his eyes returned to the floor, taking in the prosecution and defense standing at the ready. Hermione sat up straighter too, watching, her eyes wide.

"You may begin," Dumbledore bid.

It was nothing like she had expected.

Immediately, it became apparent that Wizarding Court did not have traditional closing arguments as Hermione was accustomed to. Instead, it was more a live debate, with the Wand and the Defense hurling insults and accusations and defenses back and forth. As they fought, members of the Wizengamot began raising their paddles. Some of them raised them showing a white side, others a black side, and Hermione realized they were voting on the verdict live, whilst the barristers were fighting.

The room seemed fairly split at the start. Some people immediately raised their paddles as white, Hadrian Rookwood, Rhamnaceae's father, being one of them, and Hermione was somewhat aghast he hadn't been forced to recuse himself. Travers and Yaxley also raised theirs as white, but Madam Longbottom and several other around her were quick to raise their own as black.

The barristers continued arguing furiously as more paddles went up.

"—clearly wanted to kill all the Muggleborns in the castle, she even organized an attack one as a first year—"

"—had no control over what was going on, blood prejudice or not—"

"—obviously cruel enough to knowingly don a Dark artifact—"

"—cannot hold her accountable for her actions under mental possession—"

"I didn't do it!" Rhamnaceae burst out from the Defense table, her own arguments joining the fray. "I didn't do it, I didn't do it, I didn't do it!"

To Hermione's surprise, Dumbledore seemed unfazed by Rhamnaceae's outburst, nor was he phased by Moody's, which came from the bench behind the Defense, as their witness.

"Your uncle is a Death Eater, and your family is filth and stained," he snarled. "That Dark of an artifact – and you don't even know what you'd gotten your hands on, you evil little—"

"—without proof of where the artifact was found, you cannot assume—"

"—testified he heard her speaking Parseltongue and calling the basilisk, what more evidence do you need?!"

More and more paddles went up, and Hermione felt her chest clench as more and more of them rose black. There was panic in Rhamnaceae's eyes, real panic, and Hermione felt her heart pound.

"I didn't do it!" Rhamnaceae shrieked. "You can't send me to Azkaban, you can't, you can't!"

Before she'd fully realized what she was doing, Hermione had leapt up onto the wide wooden railing in front of her.

"Rookwood might be evil, but she did not do this," Hermione yelled. "If she had done it, she would, without a doubt, have come after me."

Rhamnaceae's gaze darted to her, mixed with shock and panicked relief, and she seized the lifeline Hermione was throwing her.

"That's right! If I had had control of it, I would have tried to kill Granger, ask anyone—"

"She'd already nearly killed me once – it's clear if she had any control of the basilisk, she would have come after me again—"

"—never have attacked Lilian, my best friend! I would have tried to get Granger—"

"—anyone could have tossed the necklace over her head, but if she had put it on, she'd have come after me—"

The arguing continued, now with two teenage girls shrieking over the fray. Even as she yelled, Hermione could see the surprise on the faces of those in the Wizengamot, the shock that she was arguing for the one who had nearly killed her before, and to Hermione's relief, more and more paddles began rising as white.

Abruptly, there was a loud DONGGG, and all noise ceased. The Wizengamot all looked around at each other, trying to count paddle colors, but it was close.

"Rhamnaceae Rookwood, by a vote of 29 to 20…" Dumbledore said, his voice booming. He paused, his eyes fixed on the shaking girl. "…the Wizengamot has found you innocent."

Rhamnaceae collapsed in on herself, shaking in relief. Dumbledore's face was inscrutable.

"Miss Rookwood, you are cleared of all charges and free to go. This Trial is adjourned," he said, banging his gavel loudly.

Immediately, Wizengamot members began rising, gossiping and arguing amongst themselves. Ulfric Karlsson looked like he's just run a marathon, his hair wild and his ponytail messy, while Alexandra looked exhilarated.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" she said, turning to Hermione and Harry. Her eyes were bright, alive. "What a trial. I don't think I've had that exciting of a time in a while!"

"You – you're not upset you lost?" Harry ventured.

"No, why would I be?" Alexandra asked, cocking her head. "My job is to argue for the Ministry. In this case, the Wizengamot decided for the Defense, but that didn't mean I didn't do my absolute best." She shrugged. "She probably did get possessed by whatever secret Dark artifact it was. The point about her killing Hermione was a good one."

Harry gaped at her. "But if you thought she was innocent, why didn't you—"

"It's my job to make the argument for the Ministry, isn't it? Regardless of my personal opinion—"

Tuning out Harry and the Wand, Hermione left the seats and ventured over to the witness box, where Rhamnaceae Rookwood was sobbing quietly, curled up on herself in relief. Her eyes flew up to Hermione's, widening in alarm, but Hermione merely held out a hand.

"You're trembling," she said quietly. "Do you need help to stand?"

Rhamnaceae eyed her hand with open suspicion, but Hermione kept her face neutral, waiting with her hand outstretched.

After nearly a full minute, abruptly, Rhamnaceae took it, and Hermione helped haul her to her feet.

"They weren't keeping you in Azkaban, were they?" she asked, working to help detangle the other girl from her chains, which had unlocked when the verdict was pronounced.

"N-no, I was remanded to my parents' house with a magical monitor—" Rhamnaceae fussed with the chains, throwing them to the floor as soon as she got them off. Her eyes darted to Hermione's face once she was free, sharp with alarm and wary. "Why are you helping me? Why did you help me? You know I hate you…"

Hermione bit her lip.

"I also knew you were innocent," she said quietly. "And I would not wish Azkaban upon even my worst enemy."

Rhamnaceae stared at her.

"Then why did you do all this?" she demanded. "Why— all the attacks, the blood, the everything—"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione said coolly, folding her arms. "Your mental possession is hardly my responsibility, Rhamnaceae, so you'll need to work through your guilt on your own. But now you'll have time to do that on your own – you certainly won't be let back into Hogwarts after this."

Rhamnaceae's eyes widened, and Hermione continued.

"While you were preoccupied with the possibility of going to Azkaban, you were formally expelled from Hogwarts," she informed the older girl. "And with the truth of your attack on me publicly coming to light in Truth Circle, I sincerely doubt Dumbledore would approve you as a student if you reapplied."

Rhamnaceae stared at Hermione for a long moment.

"I don't understand," she said finally.

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"You don't have to," she said.

"I would have killed you," Rhamnaceae went on. "I—I hated you. A Muggle-born in Slytherin – I couldn't stand it. But you—how did you—?"

She gestured vaguely, and Hermione just looked at her.

"I'm New Blood," she said finally. "I do things a bit differently."

Rhamnaceae just stared at her, while Hermione stared back.

"Ah, if you would pardon me?"

Hermione turned to see a tall man with dark hair and slightly pinched features. His eyes and nose were Rhamnaceae's, though, and Hermione stepped aside as Rhamnaceae threw herself upon her father, bursting into tears.

"Oh, Papa, I was so scared—!"

"I know, my flower," Hadrian Rookwood soothed, rubbing her back. "It's all over now, dove, it's okay now."

Rhamnaceae sniffled into her father's chest, and Hadrian turned to look at Hermione, who did not move.

"My daughter would have been lost had you not defended her," he said quietly. "I was counting the paddles. Your arguments saved her, and I will not forget."

That sounded more like an ominous threat than a promise of gratitude, but Hermione merely nodded and drifted away, saying nothing. She crossed the room again and leaned back against the railing she'd leapt onto before, feeling drained of her energy. Harry came up to her, touching her arm to get her attention, and Hermione immediately relaxed into him, slumping against his side.

"What a day, wasn't it?" she said, exhausted. "I don't know what I was expecting, really…"

"But it wasn't that?" Harry said, giving her a commiserating grin. "That was mad. Wizards all seem to do things a bit madly, really."

Hermione snorted, and Harry grinned.

"Miss Granger."

Hermione's eyes flew up to see Lucius Malfoy looking down at her, his eyes fixed upon her. Draco was hovering behind him nearby, looking tense and wary.

"What an interesting trial," Lucius said.

Hermione took a deep breath and tossed her hair, straightening up.

"Indeed it was," she coolly returned.

"And what shocking results have come out," Lucius continued. "The Rookwood girl being possessed, procuring the blood of the Dark Lord from nowhere, to say nothing of her attack on you…" His eyes fixed on her. "…and then you come to her defense at the eleventh hour, saving her from a guilty fate."

"Very dramatic," Hermione agreed, raising her eyebrows. "At least it's all over now."

"Is it?" Lucius inquired, his tone deceptively light. "After all, there's no knowledge of where the cursed pendant came from, nor where she managed to get an ampule of the Dark Lord's blood."

His eyes glinted at her, dark with malice.

"Maybe she asked him very nicely," Hermione said sweetly, "and the Dark Lord said 'yes'."

Draco snorted from behind his father. "Are you saying Rookwood actually just up and asked the Dark Lord for his blood—"

"Silence, Draco," Lucius snarled, and Draco abruptly fell silent, his eyes large.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Hermione told Draco, meeting his eyes, not looking at his father. "Oh, by the way, Harry – can I have my book back?"

"What? Oh, sure. Here—"

Harry passed the diary over to her under Lucius Malfoy's keen eye, and Hermione tucked it into her pocket with nary a care in the world, before giving him a sweet smile.

"Regardless of where she may have gotten it, I find I don't care where she got the Dark artifacts from," Hermione said lightly. "What matters is that she has them – sorry, had them – and they managed to control her instead of her managing to control them."

She gave Lucius Malfoy a cool look, and his face twisted with poorly concealed hatred.

"Who are you?" he hissed. "How can you dare—"

"Didn't you hear, Mister Malfoy?" Hermione said, her eyes glinting. Her smile was predatory, like that of a panther lurking to strike. "I'm New Blood. The rules are a bit different for me."

Lucius Malfoy looked like he wanted to hit her, but he finally twisted his body away abruptly, restrained rage in his jerky movements.

"Come, Draco," he bid, but Draco hesitated.

"Father, I was going to meet up with Theo afterwards in the alley—"

"Fine. Be home by nine," his father snarled. His eyes shot to Hermione. "And watch who you associate with, Draco."

Hermione smiled sweetly at Lucius and waved him a light good-bye as he stormed off. Draco looked like he could finally breathe again as his father left them, and Theo joined them shortly thereafter, followed by Millie and Daphne. They watched as Hadrian Rookwood escorted his shaking daughter from the courtroom in relief, everyone gradually filing out.

"Well, shall we?" Daphne prompted. "I'm sure the others are dying to know what happened."

"If Tracey hasn't somehow already found out," Millie grumbled, and the heavy anxiety around them all slowly dissolved into faint laughter as they made their way to the Floo.