Chapter 5 – The Wizengamot
"Shit," said Harry. "That's… that isn't good at all."
Harry took a quick look at Petunia in case she was about to tell him off for language, but she hadn't seemed to notice. Instead, she'd gone white, and held one hand up covering her mouth.
"Clever bastard," said Sirius. "Dirty, conniving little maggot."
"Why's that bad?" demanded Dudley. "Can't you still take him to court?"
Harry hadn't thought Dudley had been paying any attention to the trial and the business with Malfoy, and it had honestly been quite refreshing. There was at least one person who wouldn't bring it up at inopportune times. But apparently, he knew enough.
"The Wizengamot is the court," Harry said. "So now Malfoy's on it. But… I don't think that means he gets to decide on the trial—he'll have to sit it out like Dumbledore is." Harry glanced over at Sirius for confirmation. "Right?"
"Right," Sirius said.
"So… why's it so bad, then?"
"Because now they won't use Veritaserum on him," Harry said. "Before, Spellman thought they'd want to use Veritaserum—truth potion—on Malfoy. But they can't use it on members of the Wizengamot unless they're on trial for treason."
"Oh," Dudley said. He seemed to consider it. "That does sound bad. But won't it be obvious that's why Malfoy took the job?"
That was fairly well-reasoned for Dudley, Harry thought. And he was right – it would be glaringly obvious to anyone with even half a brain that that's why Malfoy had stood for election in the first place. But Harry didn't think it would matter if it came down to Malfoy's word against Harry's.
"The problem there is," Sirius said, "they might downgrade the trial from a criminal to a civil matter. Looks bad for a peer of the Wizengamot to be involved in a criminal trial, see."
"Well, they've got that arse backwards, haven't they?" said Vernon. "If it looks so bloody bad for one of their own to be on trial for assaulting a little boy maybe they should chuck out the man instead of the case!"
Being called a little boy did sting, but Harry thought Vernon had the right of it. Unfortunately, given everything he knew about the wizarding world and its politics, the case being thrown out seemed far more likely than Lucius Malfoy being denied the seat.
"These people," said Petunia with a sigh. She sank down onto the sofa. "It's one thing after another. Can't even run their own judicial system properly."
"The Ministry is a shambles," Sirius said. "The Wizengamot most of all. I never even got put on trial, but with the way things are, I doubt anything would have changed. I'm just sorry Harry's been caught up in it all as well."
Silence.
"It doesn't matter," Harry said after a few moments. "If they downgrade us to arbitration before the Wizengamot, we'll just have to win that. We've come this far—the only way we can go is forward."
"Unless you withdraw the accusations and collapse the case," Sirius said. "Not that I think you should."
"Absolutely not!" Vernon said.
"I don't want to do that," Harry said at the same time. "That's what Malfoy—what Voldemort —will want us to do. So we're not going to do it."
"That's fair enough," Sirius said. "I really think—"
Mid-sentence, Sirius's features began to blur and shift away from those of Dave. Within seconds Sirius was himself once again, his Polyjuice having worn off. He shook himself off.
"Er, what was I saying?" Sirius said. "Right—I bet Malfoy's going to offer to settle out of court next. That's how he usually solves his problems, anyway: throw enough gold at it to make it go away."
"Maybe we should accept a settlement," Petunia said. "Not for the money, of course," she continued once she saw Harry's stare, "but because… well… it can't be good having your name all over the papers like this. And with him being on the Wizengamot now… is it worth fighting this as well as everything else? Don't you deserve to be a normal young man at school?" She sighed again. "This is what I was worried about when you got that bloody letter!" she muttered, just loud enough that Harry could hear.
"I see what you're saying, Aunt Petunia," Harry said carefully, "but I don't think it can work like that. This is part of the 'everything else'. If I give up now I'm just going to be facing something bigger and stronger later. Better to do it now."
"None of this is fair," Petunia said. "We shouldn't have to deal with any of this. You shouldn't have to be dealing with this."
Harry shrugged.
"Life isn't fair. This is bad news, but… it could be worse news, couldn't it? It doesn't matter. We'll deal with it." He sighed. "I'm going to go write a letter to Dumbledore." Harry turned to look at Sirius. "Sirius, thank you for coming with us—it was a great week. It was nice having you there for my birthday."
"No problem at all, Harry," Sirius said. "It's the least I could do. And if I'm honest, it's really you doing the favour for me. So… listen—if you need anything with this trial, let me know, okay? I know I can't get out and about much, but I'll do what I can. Let me know how it goes."
"I will," Harry said.
After that, Petunia and Dudley said their own goodbyes to Sirius, and he apparated away. Then Harry stood to go back to his room.
"Wait a moment, Harry," Petunia said. "I… I won't promise you all of this will turn out how we want it to, because God knows I have no faith in your people's legal system. But… we're all here for you. We'll make the best of it that we can." She paused. "And before you send your letter to Dumbledore let me know—I've got a few words of my own I want him to read. So we'll send our letters off together, if that's alright with you."
Harry nodded. That was fine with him. It would no doubt take Harry a while to completely figure out just what he wanted to say to Dumbledore anyway, and that was without knowing how he wanted to say it. So he could wait for Petunia to finish up with her own letter. With one last look at the Daily Prophet next to Vernon – where a smiling, waving Lucius Malfoy looked out at them – Harry left the living room and retreated to his bedroom.
Harry and Petunia sent their letters to Dumbledore the following morning. Harry didn't ask what his aunt had written in hers, as he supposed she did deserve to have private correspondence with Dumbledore. It was probably an echo of what she'd already been saying to him, anyway. As long as Dumbledore answered Harry's questions, he didn't mind what his aunt had asked. And Harry had covered more or less all of his worries about Lucius Malfoy's election to the Wizengamot, so hoped that Dumbledore would be forthcoming with his answers.
Dumbledore didn't reply until the next day.
Not long after dawn Harry was woken by an owl tapping at his bedroom window. Groggily, he roused himself from bed and let the owl inside to take its letters from it. The owl took some water from Agrippa's stock before flying away again.
Immediately Harry knew the letters were from Dumbledore. For one thing, it had been one owl with two letters, which meant either Dumbledore or Valerian Spellman. For another, he recognised Dumbledore's wax seal. Harry set aside Petunia's letter to give to her at a more appropriate time, then carefully opened his own.
Harry,
You are right to be concerned with Lucius's election to the Wizengamot. It is not something we could have predicted given his prior behaviour, but that it has happened at all is cause for concern nevertheless. I cannot promise you that the trial will proceed as planned. Indeed, it seems possible that the Wizengamot will conclude there ought not be a trial at all—though I do not think this will be the case. No, instead, the likeliest outcome in my estimation is that our trial is downgraded from a criminal matter to a civil dispute requiring arbitration before the Wizengamot.
If this is so, we will forfeit the opportunity to send Lucius Malfoy to Azkaban and it will instead be replaced with a fine which is theoretically unlimited in amount. Unfortunately, such a resolution may also be used against us, should we come away from arbitration as the losers. As frustrating as this may be I do not think we should allow this to change our strategy, nor should it temper our desire to see justice done. At this point, with the level of scrutiny the case has received in the press and indeed in the court of public opinion, I believe that withdrawing the accusation would be more damaging than an unfavourable arbitration.
I will be meeting with Valerian Spellman as soon as possible to discuss this development. Please, try not to worry any further. Expect our appearance before the Wizengamot to occur as planned but be prepared for the nature of the appointment to change.
This is all I can suggest.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Harry sighed. What Dumbledore had written was essentially exactly what Harry had already known. Or what Harry had assumed was going to happen, anyway. The one saving grace was that Dumbledore didn't think the case would be completely thrown out. Although Harry didn't exactly want Hogwarts to be liable to pay an unlimited fine due to him, so that was less promising. Dumbledore had assured Harry that Hogwarts had more than enough money to fight a legal battle such as this one, but that had been before Malfoy's election and the possible – probably – downgrading of the trial.
An unlimited fine was … well … unlimited, and even Hogwarts's seemingly deep pockets would soon run out of gold if pushed too far. But then, the same was true for the Malfoys, Harry reminded himself, and it was still possible that the other members of the Wizengamot would prefer to see justice served.
Or so Harry's inner optimist thought.
Dumbledore didn't contact Harry until the Sunday before the trial, which as far as Harry was concerned meant that nothing had changed. At least, nothing had changed in a way that required Harry to do anything. And then on Monday Dumbledore arrived to collect Harry, Petunia, and Vernon for the trial. Dudley had elected not to go. Didn't want to spend all day 'listening to wizard shit', which Harry thought was probably fair enough. If he could out of it himself, he would have.
Vernon had taken the day off work for it, had even dressed in one of his best suits. Harry had chosen one of his best robes and had even combed his hair, not that it did all that much to help. But Harry felt like he should at least try, given that he was to appear before the Wizengamot.
They were to take a portkey directly to the Ministry of Magic's Atrium. Vernon had asked whether they could simply drive, but there apparently wasn't time. So Dumbledore came with their portkey not too long before its activation.
"Are you prepared?" Dumbledore asked Harry while they were waiting in the living room for the portkey to activate.
Harry shrugged.
"I suppose. I know what I'm supposed to say, anyway. Just… I'm a bit worried about Lucius Malfoy being on the Wizengamot now. Still. I know you said to try not to worry, but…"
"Understandable," Dumbledore said. "I, too, am worried—but we must soldier on. We have come too far to give up now."
"I know that, Professor," Harry said. And he did. He didn't want to give up, not when the trial was mere hours away. "It's just a bit worrying, that's all."
"I still think that Wizengamot of yours is a bloody farce," Vernon added. "Ought to tear it down and replace it with something actually useful."
"Do you know, Mr Dursley," Dumbledore said, quite cheerfully, "I have thought the same thing myself at times. Alas, treason is quite difficult to execute properly. Nevertheless, I do believe that we shall receive as fair a hearing as is possible under the current system."
That was… something, Harry supposed.
"And it's still a criminal trial?" Petunia asked. "They haven't changed it? So Malfoy could still…"
"I am told that it is still regarded as a criminal matter, yes, Mrs Dursley," Dumbledore said. "Valerian has been quite proactive in lobbying the relevant bodies to keep it as such, and I daresay it is his clout which has kept it that way."
Petunia nodded to herself.
"Well, that's good. Very good," she said.
"Indeed," said Dumbledore. "Of course, they may decide to reclassify the trial during the proceedings, but that is something we can consider if and when it happens." Dumbledore glanced at the clock. "Ah! We are almost ready to go." He reached into his pocket and withdrew the portkey. "Please, hold on tight."
That day's portkey was a battered and twisted old umbrella missing its fabric. Harry grabbed hold. Within a minute the portkey activated and yanked Harry around the middle and sent him spinning and swirling through time and space – directly into the Ministry of Magic itself.
Harry got his bearings quickly enough and took a long look around. The Ministry of Magic Atrium was a vast, long thing, lined all along each side with gigantic fireplaces. The floors were of a polished and shiny hardwood, while the walls were covered in dark wood panelling. The ceiling was blue and covered in ever-changing golden writing.
And through the atrium dozens of people were moving this way and that. Out of and into the fireplaces; across the atrium to the various doors leading away from it; and others still milling about near the great golden fountain at the Atrium's centre.
A fountain which, Harry was interested to see, depicted a number of magical creatures making a cloying obeisance to their wizard masters.
Typical, Harry thought. Save perhaps for the house elf, Harry didn't think any of the creatures depicted had ever so much as considered looking at a wizard quite like the fountain showed them. Certainly not the goblins, and he rather doubted the centaurs would, either.
But the whole of the Atrium was bigger than Harry had thought. For serving such a small population, the Ministry was grand in its scale and opulence. Although Harry supposed that since it housed the judiciary, the legislative and executive, as well as the entire civil service and police force, that was probably fair enough.
"Ah! There you all are!" said a voice from behind Harry. He turned.
It was Lawmage Spellman, and behind him, Mim.
"I was worried you'd be late. Not that you'd be late, of course—no, I was worried they'd given your portkey the wrong timing. They do that sometimes, you know," Spellman said. He looked from Harry to his aunt and uncle, then back to Harry. "Well, you're all dressed alright. Good choice with the mugglewear—really hammers it home that you're muggles. Should be a nice contrast, I think." Spellman offered his hand to Vernon. "Mr Dursley, I assume? Nice to meet you. I've had the pleasure of working with your wife on this case, but it's good to meet you as well. Do any of you have any questions before we begin? Mrs Dursley? Mr Dursley?" He paused. "Mr Potter? Or… Albus?"
"What do you think our chances are?" Vernon asked immediately. "I mean really."
Spellman seemed to consider it.
"Well… honestly, I'm not sure. They won't be using Veritaserum on Malfoy and that does make it more difficult for us, but the facts should speak for themselves. No, I'm more concerned with—"
He stopped abruptly.
"Ah, this isn't quite the place to for this kind of chit-chat." Spellman glanced over his shoulder at Mim, who was reading through some parchment scrolls. "Should we move on to our chamber? We've not got long before we start and I'm sure our clients have a few more questions."
"Yes, Uncle Val," Mim said.
"Follow me!" said Spellman. He took off towards the opposite end of the Atrium and led the two Dursleys, Harry, and Dumbledore into the lifts, then selected a destination floor once they were all inside. "We've been given a preparation chamber, you see," Spellman said, "so I'm going to take us there. Bit more private. Now, while we're waiting I'd just like to go over the particulars for the trial. Mr and Mrs Dursley, you are both aware that you won't be able to speak at all during the trial, yes? Muggles aren't allowed to speak before the Wizengamot. Archaic, yes, I know—but not something we can change today."
"Of course," said Petunia. "I remember."
"Well, nobody told me that!" Vernon said. "I'd have had a few choice words for that Malfoy bloke otherwise."
As touched as he was by Vernon's anger, Harry thought the rule probably for the best. Not in general, but in this specific scenario, as he didn't really want Vernon and Petunia any more exposed to the wizarding world – and its nastiest denizens – than was necessary. That they'd both showed up and would be giving written statements was probably a step too far.
"I must have forgotten to mention," Petunia said after a moment. "But that's the rule and we don't want to do anything that could harm the case, do we? So we'll just have to put up with it."
Vernon grunted.
"So, what, the rule says only wizards can speak, or some such nonsense like that?"
"Ah, no," Spellman said. "The rule specifically excludes muggles from speaking—squibs and certain non-human beings are allowed. As I said, it's an archaic and quite frankly, barbaric rule, but it is the rule and—"
The lift door opened and the lift stopped at Level 9 – The Department of Mysteries.
"Ah, here we are," said Spellman, clearly relishing the opportunity to change the subject from what seemed to be a tricky topic. "This won't be our final stop I'm afraid—we've got to go downstairs to Level Ten, but the lifts stop here."
"Department of Mysteries?" scoffed Vernon. "What sort of name is that for a government department?"
"A very descriptive one," Dumbledore said. "It is exactly as it is described: a Ministry office where, among other things, they study the deepest mysteries of our universe. But this we can discuss another day—we do not want to be late for our trial."
Spellman led everyone away from the entrance to the Department of Mysteries and down a set of stairs, at the bottom of which was a sign proclaiming it as the Headquarters of the Council of Magical Law and the Wizengamot. There was nobody else around on Level Ten.
"Not very busy, is it?" Vernon said.
"Level Ten never is," Mim said. "And the members won't arrive until after it's time we start—they like making defendants wait."
Spellman ushered everyone into a poky little office space off one of the adjoining corridors. Everyone sat down, although it was rather cramped.
"Now, then—bit more of a private space for us to talk business," Spellman said. "We'll be in Courtroom Ten, which is just through the door behind me. It's a bit unusual for it to be used, but since this will be a full session in front of the Wizengamot, I suppose we can't be too surprised."
"Why's it not usually used then?" asked Vernon.
"They used it for the Death Eater trials," Harry said, "so they prefer not to use it for other things these days. That's what I read, anyway." And it seemed rather poetic that Lucius Malfoy would be put on trial right in that very same room… although Harry couldn't help but worry it would end in the same sort of acquittal as last time.
"Mr Potter is quite right," Spellman said. "Too many associations for certain members of the Wizengamot. Old Barty never did like the sight of the place after he sent his lad down. But that's all by the by. We've not got long until the trial is meant to begin—which means we've got some time until they call us in since they'll make us wait—and I want to go over some things. So," he said, "let's get down to it, shall we?"
"Yes, of course," said Petunia.
"Indeed, let's," said Dumbledore.
"Now then. Given Malfoy's recent elevation to the Wizengamot they shan't be using Veritaserum on him, which is a blow for us but I think we can make do without it. For the time being we are still treating this as a criminal trial, so that's in our favour. If that changes we'll take a short recess, but don't worry about that unless it happens. In terms of strategy," Spellman said, "we think that Gavelwood will try and make Mr Potter here appear unreliable as a witness. We've worried a bit that she might bring up that bit of bother at the end of your first year at Hogwarts, so…"
Spellman and Mim went through their strategy for the trial with Harry, answered questions from Petunia and Vernon, and went over several points with Dumbledore. He even told Vernon and Petunia – in minute detail – just what they were supposed to do, how they should sit, and what would happen over the course of the trial. It was all very helpful information and did a fair bit to put Harry's mind at ease.
Or as at ease as it could be, anyway. Harry felt a bit better about the trial, and that was something. They had a plan. Harry knew what he had to say, how he had to say it, and why. Mim was even able to suggest some of the likely things Lucius Malfoy would say. When they were done, it was time for the trial to begin.
"I'll just check if they're ready for us," Mim said, and left through the door to Courtroom Ten.
"Doubt they will be," Spellman said. "As we've said, they like to make you wait. But it shouldn't be too long now. We're expecting the full turnout, of course—a peer of the Wizengamot on trial, and the accusers being the Chief Warlock and the Boy-Who-Lived? All the ingredients for a full house."
"And the press?" asked Vernon. "They've been writing about this trial for weeks now. It's been in every bloody issue of that paper."
"There won't be any press allowed inside the courtroom," Spellman said. "Whether statements will be given afterwards, however… well, that's up to the members of the Wizengamot. I've prepared statements for us all in the event that we win or lose, so we should be all set there—if you'd like to look over them I'm sure we have some time before Mim gets back."
Harry shrugged. He trusted Spellman to have written a decent enough statement. He didn't need to read over it.
About five minutes after the trial was due to start, Mim came back into the little antechamber.
"They're ready for us," she said. "Well, they want us to come in—the Minister's not here yet, nor are his staff."
"Malfoy?" asked Spellman. "And what about Gavelwood?"
Mim nodded.
"They've arrived. Malfoy is already in his place, Gavelwood's not here yet."
"Late?" asked Spellman. "Or…"
"Not sure. Nobody could say," said Mim. "But we should go on through—I think the Minister is waiting until after we've gone in."
"Of course he is," muttered Spellman. "Well, best be getting on with it. Mr and Mrs Dursley, Mim will show you to where you're going to sit. Mr Potter, Albus—follow me."
Everyone stood and went about their business. Petunia and Vernon went through first following Mim, and then Harry, Dumbledore, and Spellman. Once inside Harry saw a large, dingy room decked out completely in stone. The floor, walls, and even the ceiling had been made from the same dull, black stone. All around the walls of the chamber were benches rising in levels, with seating reserved at the front of the chamber for a smaller number of officials. Harry recognised only one of the officials – Amelia Bones, Susan's aunt – although most of the seats were missing their allocated person.
At the centre of the room were three chairs, two of which were set apart. Lucius Malfoy sat in the third, staring forward at the far wall of the chamber. He seemed quite relaxed. Each of the chairs had chains strapped to the legs, although they didn't do anything other than rattle menacingly every so often.
And not even Malfoy had been locked up within them, when it was he who was on trial.
Spellman led Harry and Dumbledore to the chairs and directed them to sit. And throughout the hall there was silence save for a prolonged whisper once Harry had sat down.
Spellman stood behind Harry and Dumbledore. After that, it was a matter of waiting for the Minister to arrive. Which took rather a lot more time than Harry would have thought. He must have been sat there five minutes at least by the time the doors to Courtroom Ten opened once again to admit the Minister and his retinue.
Fudge, the corpulent Minister for Magic, waddled into the chamber clad in his green suit, followed by an almost childlike woman with a bow in her hair. A woman who looked familiar to Harry, although he couldn't quite place why. Following her was a Weasley, the Weasley brother who had been a prefect when Harry had started Hogwarts, Harry remembered after a second glance. And then, after the Ministry officials, was a witch Harry assumed could only be Gavelwood, Lucius Malfoy's lawmage.
They took their seats next to Amelia Bones and the other officials.
"Hem, hem," coughed the little witch with the bow in her hair. "Rise for the Minister."
All around the chamber people stood for the Minister. Spellman tapped Harry and Harry rose, too. At a gesture from the witch everyone sat down once again.
Who's she, then? Harry wondered. She looked familiar, although he couldn't decide why. He studied her face and its saccharine smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and then looked over his girlish pink robes. After a few moments he realised where he'd seen her before – she was Dolores Umbridge, the witch who'd led the ill-fated Ministry expedition into the Forbidden Forest during his first year at Hogwarts.
"We are here today to decide upon a most serious accusation brought before the Wizengamot," Umbridge continued, "by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts School. The accused, Lucius Malfoy, a peer of the Wizengamot, is to stand trial for kidnapping and assault of a child while on school property. These are the charges which we will consider today," Umbridge said. She went on to list the precise charges.
Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Dumbledore turn and whisper something to Spellman. Once Umbridge was finished, Spellman spoke.
"Madam Undersecretary," he said, "while it is no doubt an honour to have this case overseen by such an august presence as yourself, I was told to expect Griselda Marchbanks as the presiding officer of this court today. Why was I not informed plans had changed?"
"It was decided at the last moment that a more neutral and unbiased party should serve as presiding officer today," Umbridge said with a wide smile. "As such, I have stepped in to provide what Madam Marchbanks could not. Will this be a problem, Lawmage Spellman?"
"I see," Spellman said. "There is no problem, Madam Undersecretary, but it is customary to inform counsel of any such changes at the earliest opportunity." Spellman's tone wasn't quite a rebuke, but it was near enough there. The problem was, Harry realised, the change had obviously been Gavelwood's doing, especially at such a late juncture. No wonder she'd been late.
"Then we shall proceed," Umbridge said. "Mr Malfoy, you stand accused of very serious crimes. What is your response to these accusations?"
"I am not guilty, Madam Undersecretary," Malfoy said, his voice calm and his tone even. Somewhere inside Lucius was a fragment of Voldemort's soul, though to look at the man, it was impossible to tell. Draco had shown many more signs of his possession, from the colour of his eyes to the strange way he held himself. Even the precise way in which Voldemort was using his voice.
But Lucius Malfoy – as far as Harry could tell – looked, behaved, and sounded like Lucius Malfoy always had.
"Specifically," Gavelwood said, "my client enters a plea of innocence to the court, along with a counterclaim of assault by Harry Potter on behalf of his minor son, Draco Malfoy. This—"
"Hem, hem," interrupted Umbridge with her false little cough. "The court has not yet moved to decide upon this latter issue. Our business at this precise moment is the matter of Lucius Malfoy's alleged assault on Harry Potter, and the use of illegal Dark magic on Hogwarts grounds."
"Of course, Madam Undersecretary," said Gavelwood. "To reiterate, my client enters a plea of innocence on the specific accusations made by Headmaster Dumbledore and Harry Potter."
That little exchange gave Harry a bit of hope that Umbridge wouldn't be too biased in favour of Malfoy. She obviously didn't like Dumbledore, especially judging by her behaviour after her expedition into the Forest, but in front of the entire Wizengamot… perhaps she would be a little less obviously biased. Maybe.
Umbridge said nothing in response. Instead, she looked directly at Malfoy and smiled.
"Mr Malfoy, please explain your behaviour on the day in question—the day of the Triwizard Tournament's Pariturium finals. It is the understanding of this court that, prior to the official declaration of your son's forfeit, you left the duelling arena to visit a location within the castle. Why?"
"When my son—when Draco—failed to attend his duel with Harry Potter I knew immediately that something was wrong. You see, Madam Undersecretary, Draco was very excited to have reached the finals of such a prestigious tournament. It really was all he spoke about to us—his mother and me. So when he failed to attend I knew right then that he must have been upset about something, or that something serious had occurred. An accident, perhaps."
Harry fought the urge to snort. Draco hadn't been sending letters home at all. He'd been avoiding his parents all year. So that was a lie. And even if they had been speaking Draco was unlikely to have relayed any such excitement to them, as he'd been in a sort of fugue state most of the year, halfway between possession and agency even when he didn't have the Diadem on his head.
"The advocates for Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore have submitted that Draco was not in regular contact with his parents over the school year," said Amelia Bones. "Indeed, when this court approached Mr Malfoy for evidence of correspondence throughout the year he was unwilling or unable to provide any. Further to this, Mr Potter alleges that you, Mr Malfoy, approached him directly after one of the Aerobaticum events to ask him to relay a message to your son. Precisely because he was not answering your letters. What do you say to this?"
That was a good line of questioning, Harry thought. Quite a few people knew that Draco hadn't been answering letters home that year, and not just those who were Harry's friends. Even though it was a minor thing, it did mean Lucius would have to lie to the court, and that could trip him up. Harry glanced over at Lucius, but he seemed quite calm.
"We are not in the habit of keeping our letters from Draco," he said. "Some—those which are particularly sentimental, of course—my wife does like to keep. But in general? No, we do not keep our letters. I couldn't say what we do with them—we have an elf for that. That is, however, why I was not able to provide letters to the court."
"And my second question?" asked Bones.
"I did, in fact, approach Mr Potter after one of the Aerobaticum events in which he flew against my son," Lucius continued. "That much is true."
Well, that was a fair enough answer. Many people would have seen Lucius Malfoy speaking with Harry after the event, and it was even possible that there existed photographs from any one of the various press organisations present. To lie there would be stupid, and Lucius Malfoy was not stupid. Evil, but not as far as Harry knew, stupid.
"But this was because on that day Draco had gone back to his dormitory before I had a chance to speak with him, and I wished to congratulate him on his performance. And of course, as Mr Potter is one of Draco's schoolfriends—they share a dormitory, in fact—I asked him to relay my message. It was also," continued Lucius, "an opportunity to congratulate Mr Potter himself on his successes within the Tournament. His was quite the successful outing, as we no doubt all remember from the reporting during the event."
"I see," said Bones. She turned her gaze towards Harry. "And does this tally with your recollection of the day, Mr Potter?"
Harry considered what to say.
"Mostly," Harry decided to say after a few moments, "but not exactly. I remember that Mr Malfoy caught me on that day, and he asked me to give Draco a message because he hadn't been answering letters. But I already knew Draco hadn't been answering his parents' letters because… well... we'd all noticed, us second year Slytherins. Mr Malfoy did congratulate me, though."
"Thank you, Mr Potter," Bones said. "So, with this information in mind… Mr Malfoy, why then did you seek Draco in the castle when he failed to attend his bout? Is it your assertion that in fact, you were in regular contact with Draco?"
"Of course, Madam Bones," Malfoy said. "I would simply suggest that Mr Potter is mistaken, or that he has misremembered the events in question. I went to see Draco because I knew, from his letters over the year, that he had a secret training room within the castle and I thought—given that he had failed to attend his bout—that he was there. It was my hope to find Draco fast enough for him to participate in his bout."
Malfoy spoke the words easily enough, seemingly without worry. Stood behind him Gavelwood was calm, didn't move her gaze from where she looked at Amelia Bones.
Bones nodded to Umbridge. "That's it for now."
"And you, Mr Potter?" asked Umbridge. "Why did you not attend the bout? In young Mr Malfoy's absence you would have won the bout by default, secured yourself the title. So why did you fail to attend?"
They'd gone over that, Harry and Spellman and Dumbledore. Spellman had been certain the question would be asked. Most students would have allowed their opponent to forfeit even if they knew where he was.
"I didn't want to win just because Draco didn't come," Harry said. "I wanted to win because I was the better duellist." He shrugged. "I was looking forward to duelling Draco since I realised it could be us in the finals, because Draco was—is—a really good duellist. And because I'd noticed Draco being weird all year, I knew where he was going to do his training. So I just thought that if I was quick—if I could get there and back in time—we could both go to the duel and then… everything would be fine."
"Your statement submitted to the court suggests that you did not know how to access the room used by Draco Malfoy," Umbridge said. "So why then did you risk forfeiting your match to seek him there?"
"I just thought… I thought that maybe he hadn't reached it yet, or maybe this time I could figure out how it opened. I don't know. I just wanted to try, since I wanted to fight Draco—in the Pariturium, I mean—and not just win because he didn't turn up. And I didn't want to fight his replacement if they put one forward. So I just thought it was better to try." Harry shrugged. That was more or less true, even without the Voldemort angle. Harry had wanted to win on his own merit, and had wanted to win against Draco, too. It had been petty, and perhaps a little childish, but… well, it was the truth.
"And I was planning on running back down before the forfeit timer finished if I couldn't get to Draco. The only reason I was late is because Mr Malfoy forced me to go with him. He threatened me with his wand, and then later, when I wouldn't tell him where we were going—because he didn't actually know, see, he only knew how to open the room's door—he used the Imperius Curse on me. So that's why I never got back to the duel and why it went to forfeit."
"And this brings us to the core allegation made by Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore to the Wizengamot," Umbridge said with only the barest of glances towards Dumbledore. "Mr Malfoy, you have been accused of kidnapping and assault of a minor child; practising Dark magic; and the casting of an Unforgivable Curse upon another person. In your own words explain what happened when you met Harry Potter on the day in question."
Silence for a moment, and then Lucius spoke. It was with that same easy, even tone, almost if he was sat in his living room speaking about nothing of any consequence. Not a single sign of nerves, and quite unlike the Lucius Malfoy Harry had met previously.
Is he Voldemort or Lucius? Harry wondered. It seemed impossible to tell.
"I did, of course, meet with Harry Potter on that day. That much is true. The rest? Well, I wouldn't like to suggest that Mr Potter is lying, but what he has said is certainly not correct. A misremembering, perhaps." At that, a ripple of hushed noise from the Wizengamot. Harry fought the urge to turn around to look.
"We must have left the arena at the same time because we encountered one another in the school's Entrance Hall," Malfoy continued. "It was clear to me that we were both interested in Draco's location and well-being—or so I thought at the time—and so I suggested we go together. My Potter agreed, and I can assure you—as a peer of the Wizengamot and as a father myself—I would not have forced the matter, and certainly not by using Dark magic! Indeed, the very spell under which I was cruelly held captive for many years during the War… no, I never would have done such a thing! And not to Harry Potter, who was after all the saviour of not just me, but of us all."
Harry grimaced. Malfoy's statement left a sour taste in his mouth even though they'd been expecting something like it. Lucius had invoked Harry's own name, and the deaths of his parents', in an attempt to defend himself against kidnapping, assault, and practicing Dark magic upon Harry himself. And from the rumble that went through the Wizengamot members arranged on all sides of the courtroom, Harry was worried it may have worked.
Harry looked at the various officials in front of him. Umbridge seemed ready to believe Malfoy. The Minister looked decidedly uncomfortable with proceedings in their totality, and Harry didn't feel able to gauge his opinion. He seemed keen to get the whole affair over with. Amelia Bones, though, didn't seem especially convinced.
"Mr Potter's statement to the Wizengamot tells us that you, Mr Malfoy, used the Imperius Curse upon him when it became clear he would not tell you the location of your son's training space," Bones said. "Indeed, according to Mr Potter's statement, you each had a key piece of information which the other did not: Mr Potter knew where the room was, and you knew how to open it. It seems quite clear to me that you had motive to at the very least coerce Mr Potter to give you the information you sought." Bones paused.
"In fact, Mr Potter's statement to the Wizengamot tells us this directly: he tried to obtain the secret to opening the room from you, and you refused. Then, when he refused to tell you its location, you performed the Imperius Curse upon him," continued Bones. "What do you say to this?"
"Mr Potter must be confused," Malfoy said, "because I did not—and would not—cast such a curse upon anyone, let alone a child. If I had performed the curse upon him, would events have transpired the way they did? I ask you to consider the counterclaim which we have submitted to the court when you—"
"Hem, hem," coughed Umbridge. "The Wizengamot shall consider that when and if it is pertinent."
"Bring in Alastor Moody," said Bones with a quick look to one of the doors. Harry watched as one of the aurors brought in Moody. He was dressed the same as he had been when he'd been a professor, more or less, although that didn't surprise Harry as he hadn't dressed like a professor when he'd been one. His electric blue eye whizzed about in his head looking every which way, and his false leg thudded against the stone floor with every step. He stood at the front of Courtroom Ten looking forward.
"Alastor Moody," Bones said, "you have been brought before the Wizengamot to—"
"Aye, I know why I'm here," interrupted Moody. "You want me to say whether I think that sot Malfoy is capable of putting Potter under the Imperius Curse. Well, he ain't. Not because of morals or whatever—he would absolutely try to cast the Curse on a child. Especially that one. But Potter's got too strong a will, see? He'd throw it off."
"I see," Bones said. "And your reasoning?"
"Well, I trained him to!" Moody said. "You saw the bloody application to the Department when I wanted to cast the Imperius on second years. Potter was the only one who threw off the Imperius Curse fully. The only one. And that's from me, and I'm a damned sight stronger than Malfoy is. So no, I don't believe that Malfoy could get Potter under the Curse, though I do know he'd try."
Nobody seemed surprised at Moody's behaviour, least of all Amelia Bones.
"Thank you, Alastor. That will be all for now," Bones said. The auror led Moody out of the courtroom. Before either Bones or Umbridge could speak again, however, Gavelwood raised her hand.
"There is a point I'd like to raise," Gavelwood said. "Alastor Moody is known to have a personal vendetta against my client to the point that interactions between them have been subject to arbitration before the Wizengamot. Is his testimony here appropriate?"
Harry supposed that was fair. Moody was the very definition of a biased witness and hadn't even pretended to be professional during his brief appearance. But what he'd said was all true.
"Alastor Moody is a retired auror," said Bones, "whose record is impeccable. Not once in his career has he been found to have participated in, or even suspected, of any kind of corruption or wrong-doing. His behaviour may be unorthodox, but there has been no indication that his word is untrustworthy."
"Even so," said Gavelwood, "his testimony cannot be considered untarnished by his prior experience with my client. I move that the testimony be struck from the record and a more suitable witness is found."
"There is only one more suitable witness," interrupted Spellman. "Auror Nymphadora Tonks who, during her secondment to Hogwarts School during its previous academic year, served as an adjunct professor and was present during all sessions involving the Unforgivable Curses." He paused. "And she would no doubt be considered tainted also, due to her association with Alastor Moody. It is our submission that the testimony as given stands."
"It is the opinion of this body that—" Umbridge started to say but was interrupted by Bones.
"The testimony as given stands," Bones said, her tone firm. "There is to be no suggestion that the Auror Corps is tainted in any way, or that its members—present and former—in good standing are to be considered unsuitable witnesses in a trial such as this. We have sought and obtained a written statement from Auror Tonks regarding this, and her accounting of the day is the same—albeit less colourful. Motion denied, Lawmage Gavelwood."
Gavelwood whispered something to Malfoy, and then nodded towards Bones.
"We accept your ruling."
"After this," Umbridge said, "both Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy's statements agree that they proceeded to the room in question. Once there, both agree that Mr Potter hexed Mr Malfoy, and entered the room ahead of him. A question which remains, however, is—"
"This room," interrupted Fudge, shifting in his seat suddenly. "Where is it? What is it? What's all this nonsense about—about, well, everything? Explain, Dumbledore."
"Of course, Cornelius," said Dumbledore. "The room in question is a lesser-known aspect of Hogwarts School and its precise nature is unknown even to me. It dates to the founding of Hogwarts and is possibly a creation of Rowena Ravenclaw herself; more than that, nobody knows. What is understood is that this room can appear in many different permutations, each with a different name. If one simply wishes to open the room, no name is required, merely a desire. But for a specific iteration of the room… that is more complicated. The location of the door is fixed but will not appear unless the person requesting it understands the nature of the room which they seek—and its name. This is why, to take an example from the submission we have made to the Wizengamot, Harry was able to know the location of Draco Malfoy but not how to open the door. When the room is occupied in such a way the only way to open it is by knowing its current purpose."
The idea that the room had many different permutations – that the Room of Hidden Things wasn't its sole form – was very interesting to Harry. It seemed like something worth looking into it. Later, of course, but…
"And then… so if I'm following," Fudge continued, "Lucius would have known the name of the room, but not where it was? Which is why he needed Harry there?" He paused. "Hypothetically." He waved a hand.
"Indeed," said Dumbledore.
"So, Lucius," Fudge said, any pretence at formality gone, "what's this about? Why'd you go there with Harry Potter if you already knew where it was and how to open the door? You've got to see that it looks a bit off, given what happened after."
"It is simply as I said, Cornelius," Malfoy said. "I had, at that time, thought that Mr Potter cared about my son and his absence from the competition. That they were friends, of a sort. And so of course I suggested that he was free to accompany me, as we had clearly been going to the same place. I even shared my knowledge of how to enter the room with him—which is how he was able to enter it himself. Of course, as soon as we arrived he assaulted me."
Harry opened his mouth to protest but a hand on his shoulder from Spellman stopped him.
"Wait a moment, lad," Spellman whispered, just loud enough for Harry to hear.
Bones looked down at her desk and read over something quickly.
"Mr Potter, in your statement to the Wizengamot you have admitted to casting a Knockback Hex upon Mr Malfoy," Bones said. "In your own words explain this."
That was easy enough. Harry had already answered this question nearly a dozen times for Spellman and Dumbledore. They'd gone over different ways to say it.
"After Mr Malfoy cast the Imperius Curse on me I was worried about what he might do," Harry said. He swallowed; his mouth felt dry even though he'd barely done any talking at all. "I was frightened because he'd already used an Unforgivable Curse on me—I wasn't sure what he would do next. I knew that if I ran away down the hallway he'd have a chance to cast spells on me, but if I went inside the room, maybe I could get away." Harry paused, looked over at Malfoy. "And I was worried that maybe Draco was in trouble. That maybe there'd been something that had happened with his parents and that was why he wasn't answering their letters or… or anything like that. So I wanted to help him, and I thought maybe we could get away together. It really felt like the only way I could go was into the room—Mr Malfoy was right behind me."
"If that is the case," said Umbridge, her tone sickly sweet, "please explain why you fought with Draco Malfoy upon entering the Room of Hidden Things."
"I had to find him first," Harry said. "The Room of Hidden Things is really big, and it's full of… junk, mostly. But I managed to find him. He was sat on this big throne, and he had this Dark artefact with him. I've never felt anything like it before. It was… hateful," Harry said. "It was a crown, and Draco was wearing it. I asked him if he was worried about his dad. I told him that we could go to Professor Dumbledore, that he'd help us. But he wasn't… he wasn't right. There was something wrong about the crown he was wearing. Draco was angry, and that's when we started fighting. Mr Malfoy came in then, but he hadn't got to us yet."
Harry swallowed again. He could hear, vaguely, members of the Wizengamot speaking amongst themselves at his words, but they were too quiet to hear what they were saying. He couldn't tell if they were receptive or not.
"We were fighting, and Draco cast a curse on me and cut my chest—I've got a new cursed scar from it," Harry said. "And then eventually I dropped a statue on him. But that was when Mr Malfoy found us, and he… well, he seemed to be expecting the crown Draco had on. He picked it up like he knew what it was, and then he took it and Draco out with him. I don't know what happened after that because I was bleeding a lot and I fainted. The next thing I know was that Professor Snape had found me."
"And your response to these allegations, Mr Malfoy?" Umbridge asked.
"True, in parts," Malfoy said. "It is true that there was a fight between Potter and my son. I witnessed it. But I am unaware of any Dark object and can state with certainty that my son was not wearing one. While my son did curse Potter, this was during a very serious duel. I feared for my son's life. Indeed, my son's curse upon Potter was a last resort, cast only after Potter performed Dark magic upon my son. I have never before witnessed such a spell, and I hope I never do again." Malfoy shuddered. "When Potter fainted, I took my chance to save my son, and fled." Malfoy paused. "Alas, I was too late, and my son was seriously wounded—as our healer's submission to the court shows. He has not yet recovered and is certainly too ill to attend this court. This was no mere fight between schoolboys," Malfoy said. "Potter is dangerous."
At that, there was a bit of commotion from the benches. Several peers of the Wizengamot had made audible protestations, and Harry thought he heard Vernon's tell-tale groans as well.
"That is clearly preposterous," said Spellman. "The wounds on the Malfoy boy are quite obviously from a cursed object and my client's description of the object in question matches the wounds sustained by the boy. Malfoy's counterclaim is nothing more than a naked attempt to deflect blame and cast doubt upon my client's account. Harry Potter is, whilst obviously being a competent and talented wizard, clearly incapable of casting a Dark spell of the nature Malfoy alleges."
"Or it's the complete and utter truth," Gavelwood said. "Mr Potter is known to be fond of casting Dark spells and the healer's report is quite clear that young Draco's injuries are the result of spell damage."
"Oh, come off it!" Spellman said. "Where would my client have learned such a spell? It's hardly going to be found in the stacks at Hogwarts, is it? So unless you're suggesting he's in league with Dark wizards I don't think—"
"Hem, hem," coughed Umbridge. "I fear we are becoming distracted from the issue at hand. These allegations against Mr Potter are quite serious and we of course—"
"Allegations against Mr Potter?" repeated Bones, clearly incredulous. "Dolores, we are here to consider the case against Lucius Malfoy. Harry Potter is not on trial!"
"With allegations as serious as these," Umbridge started to say, but Fudge put a hand on her arm.
"Let's take a short recess, shall we?" Fudge said. "Take a spot of tea and consider where we go from here." He got up from the bench. "Weasley, come with me—I've got something for you…" he said as he waddled away from the courtroom.
Harry watched him go, astounded at how things had turned out.