CHAPTER: 2 A DAY TO REMEMBER
Some days, life seemed to harbor a vendetta against Harry Potter, a relentless barrage of challenges that came with the mere mention of his name. If you bore the weight of "Harry Potter," you were bound to encounter days when the universe conspired against your peace and well-being. Today unfolded as one such day, the kind that could either etch itself into the annals of unforgettable misadventures or merely serve as another challenging chapter in his tumultuous life.
Amidst the gloomy contemplations and self-deprecating musings that clouded Harry's mind, an unexpected burst of laughter disrupted the somber atmosphere. The sound reverberated in the air, drawing the curious gazes of his two steadfast companions, Hermione and Ron. Inwardly, Harry acknowledged that if they were privy to the labyrinth of his thoughts, Hermione would likely adopt her role as the voice of reason, while Ron would offer a brief moment of camaraderie before delving back into his own grievances about life's inherent unfairness. Harry couldn't deny that, deep down, he found himself in alignment with Ron's sentiment.
"Harry, I hardly think this is the time for levity," Hermione admonished, her words carrying both sternness and compassion, a potent reminder of the invaluable friendship he enjoyed.
"Sorry, Hermione," Harry replied, feigning contrition with a wry smile. "Sometimes, things just strike me as funny. If I don't laugh, I might find myself drowning in the sea of challenges, and I'd rather avoid that."
Hermione's gaze softened, and she regarded him with an affection that spoke volumes. Ron, on the other hand, remained less understanding, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What's gotten into you, mate?" he grumbled, glancing between his two friends.
Harry shrugged, adopting a nonchalant demeanor. "Ron, what's the appropriate reaction when you're on the verge of facing a hearing that could potentially expel you from the wizarding world? Should I throw a tantrum or simply laugh it off? I opt for laughter—it's better for my sanity."
"Don't talk like that, Harry," Ron muttered, concern etched on his face. "You won't be expelled."
Despite Ron's firm reassurance, Hermione's voice betrayed an underlying unease. "Ron's right, Harry. Dumbledore won't allow that to happen." She clung to the hope that their esteemed headmaster would intervene and prevent such a dire outcome.
The tension lingered in Hermione's words, the concern for Harry's well-being palpable beneath her attempt to exude confidence. Harry, perceptive as ever, could discern the genuine worry she harbored behind a façade of courage. A swell of warmth enveloped him as he regarded the young witch, realizing the depth of his fortune in having her as a friend. Hermione was more than a friend; she was an unwavering ally, a beacon of support in the intricate web of the magical world. Without her, Harry pondered how lost he might have been amidst the complexities and injustices he regularly faced.
As his gaze lingered on Hermione, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush, a subtle unease betrayed her under Harry's scrutiny. A faint smile played at the corners of her lips, adding an endearing charm to her demeanor. Shifting his attention to Ron, Harry avoided meeting his friend's suspicious gaze, well aware of the watchful eyes that had been monitoring their interactions for signs of deeper affection. The atmosphere in Grimmauld Place had grown charged, and Ron's unspoken feelings for Hermione hung in the air like an unspoken secret.
While Ron held the position of Harry's closest male friend and trusted comrade, their bond ran deeper than mere camaraderie. Shared experiences as roommates and as boys had forged a unique connection between them. Harry cherished Ron's loyalty and steadfast support, especially in the face of danger. Their shared adventures, from the escapades with the Philosopher's Stone to encounters with Acromantulas and the Chamber of Secrets, had solidified their friendship.
However, the dynamics shifted when it came to Hermione. Harry recognized that a clash of interests was inevitable, a potential point of contention that might strain their friendship. Should Harry ever choose to pursue a romantic relationship with Hermione, he knew that Ron's territorial instincts would surface. Even though Ron had never explicitly conveyed his feelings to Hermione, the unspoken claim lingered—an uncharted territory that Harry navigated with caution.
Harry acknowledged the complexity of his feelings toward Hermione, a labyrinthine tangle not easily unraveled, despite dedicating more thought to the matter than he cared to admit. He cherished Hermione deeply, relying on her as his steadfast confidante in a world that often felt hostile. Her unwavering support surpassed even Ron's, a testament to the depth of their connection.
Perhaps Harry's struggle to decipher his emotions was rooted in his tumultuous upbringing with the Dursleys. While he recognized Hermione's transformation from the bushy-haired girl of their early years into an attractive young woman, articulating his feelings remained a challenge. Understanding Hermione's emotions posed a similar complexity, although subtle cues—furtive glances and the earlier blush—hinted at her own contemplations about their relationship.
Yet, in the midst of the looming threat of a deranged and resurrected dark wizard actively hunting him, Harry hesitated to expose Hermione to greater peril by openly acknowledging romantic feelings. A wry snort escaped him as he envisioned the potential rebuke from Hermione if she discovered his internal turmoil. She would appreciate his protective instincts but vehemently reject decisions made on her behalf without her knowledge.
"Harry," a hesitant voice interrupted his reverie. "Are you all right?"
His focus returned to his friends, realizing that he had remained silent for an extended period. With a reassuring smile, he nodded and began lacing up his sneakers. "I'm fine, Hermione. Just a bit preoccupied with thoughts about the hearing."
Ron's voice cut through the tension with unwavering confidence, "Dumbledore will take care of everything, Harry. You'll see."
Appreciating Ron's optimism, Harry nodded gratefully, "Thanks, Ron. I hope you're right. I'm trying to stay positive, but it's tough sometimes. Fudge has been after me ever since the tournament, and it looks like he's found his chance."
Encouraging smiles from both friends greeted his words, prompting Harry to take a conscious step back from his overly pessimistic outlook. He realized that his worries were not only weighing on his own shoulders but were also causing concern for Hermione and Ron. Deciding to let go of the burden, Harry resolved to accept whatever fate awaited him.
Regardless of the challenges looming on the horizon, Harry vowed not to succumb without a fight. If Fudge intended to tarnish his reputation and expel him from the wizarding world, Harry swore to stand tall and defend himself. In fifteen years of life, he had learned the importance of confronting bullies head-on, and Fudge, in Harry's eyes, had become just that—a bureaucratic bully wielding power against him.
A few moments later, Mr. Weasley's entrance into the foyer signaled the departure. Harry bid his friends a final farewell, acknowledging Hermione's concern and Ron's attempt at bravery. Gratitude filled him as he thanked them for their unwavering friendship, promising to reunite once the storm had passed. The Ministry awaited, and with it, an uncertain destiny.
As Harry later reflected on the journey to the Ministry building, the details remained elusive. The steps of the old house, the car awaiting them, and the familiar entrance through a phone booth—all blurred together. If clarity had prevailed in his thoughts, he might have questioned the choice of a car over the Floo network. Yet, Mr. Weasley's explanation later revealed the Ministry's standard procedure for visitors and the desire to spare Harry the discomfort of Floo travel. The extended car ride allowed him to gather his thoughts, although Harry's mind was consumed by the impending hearing.
In those moments, Harry's subconscious replayed various scenarios, real and imagined, of the consequences a conviction could bring. The morning's reflection on the challenges he faced throughout his life now took a different turn. He realized that, despite the hardships, the wizarding world had become his life. He identified himself as a wizard, and leaving this world held no appeal.
Moreover, the thought of leaving Ron and Hermione behind was inconceivable. Their friendship and trust were anchors in a tumultuous sea, and abandoning them in a world threatened by Voldemort was not an option. The dark wizard's relentless pursuit suggested that Harry posed a threat to his vision. With that realization, Harry resolved to be a constant thorn in Voldemort's side. Facing Fudge became not just a necessity but a chance to assert himself. He wouldn't be a passive child in front of the Minister; Fudge would encounter a resolute and unyielding Harry Potter.
The weight of contemplation pressed upon Harry's shoulders as they reached the entrance to the Ministry, signaling the imminent commencement of his trial. Nodding solemnly, he bid his final goodbyes to Hermione's worried expression and Ron's valiant attempt at optimism. Gratitude for their unwavering support filled him as he promised to reunite with them on the other side of this daunting ordeal. As he walked away, the gravity of the situation settled in—courtroom number ten awaited, and with it, an uncertain fate.
The Ministry's atrium greeted them with a palpable buzz of anticipation, the trial's sensational nature drawing a significant crowd of curious onlookers. Despite being a regular business day, the atmosphere was charged with an unusual energy. As Harry and his companions entered, a collective hush fell over the onlookers, heads turning in unison toward the Boy-Who-Lived. Soft whispers and furtive gestures rippled through the crowd, creating an atmosphere neither hostile nor friendly, but overwhelmingly interested in the impending trial.
Harry couldn't shake the feeling that the large turnout was due to the unprecedented nature of his trial. Through research with Hermione, he had learned that no one charged with underage magic use had faced the entire Wizengamot before. Fudge saw this as an opportunity to humble the famous Harry Potter while positioning himself as a protector of the people. Harry couldn't help but wish for a different confrontation, one where Fudge faced Voldemort himself—a challenge the Minister would undoubtedly crumble beneath.
Guided by Mr. Weasley through the atrium, Harry became acutely aware of the spotlight of public scrutiny. He had become the center of attention in the wizarding world, and his trial had captivated the masses. Realizing he needed to take control of the narrative, Harry decided to present himself in the best possible light. If he could embody the hero people hoped him to be, especially with Voldemort's return, he might shift the atmosphere in his favor. Perhaps, just maybe, he could put Fudge on the defensive for once.
However, this battle wouldn't be fought with broomsticks, dragons, or basilisks. This time, it would be won with words. Harry wished Hermione were by his side; her way with words would have been invaluable in this situation.
Exiting the atrium, they traversed a long hall, Harry absorbed in his thoughts. Eventually, he noticed a tall, imposing man watching them intently near the courtroom entrance. As they approached, the man, wearing a kindly expression, stepped forward.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, I presume."
The familiarity with which the man addressed him didn't surprise Harry, given his notoriety. He had grown accustomed to people seeking something from him or having their own agendas. Maintaining caution, Harry responded, "Yes? Can I help you?"
The man chuckled, his tone reassuring, "No, young Harry, I just thought I would say hello before you enter the courtroom."
Glancing at the open door that seemed to mock him, Harry shook off his dark thoughts. "I'm sorry, sir, but do I know you?"
"No, though I'm aware of you." The man chuckled once more, patting Harry on the shoulder. "I suppose that's not surprising, is it? Just remember, you have people on your side—people who will fight for you. Don't let them intimidate you or try to isolate you."
Harry absorbed the stranger's words, a glimmer of reassurance cutting through the uncertainty. With a nod of gratitude, he prepared himself to face the daunting unknown that awaited beyond the courtroom door, his destiny and fears beckoning him forward.
Harry absorbed the man's words with a nod, reassured by the reminder of his supportive friends and allies. Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore, and the professors had always stood by him, and his bond with Sirius had grown stronger. Armed with this support, he believed he could weather the storm of the impending trial and emerge stronger.
"Thank you, Mr.…."
"Oh, don't worry about me, Harry," the man replied with a casual wave.
Gathering his resolve, Harry and his escort approached the entrance to the courtroom, pausing before the open door. Mr. Weasley offered words of encouragement, reinforcing the support Harry had from those who cared about him. With gratitude, Harry thanked Mr. Weasley and took a deep breath, mentally preparing for what lay ahead.
Entering the courtroom, Harry found himself in a semi-circular room, reminiscent in size of the Gryffindor common room at Hogwarts. Benches lined the walls on three sides, ascending about ten levels high. The members of the Wizengamot, mostly stern-looking elderly witches and wizards, occupied these benches. The mood of the assembly was elusive, leaving Harry uncertain whether they were indifferent, disapproving of Fudge's actions, or harboring enmity toward him.
Harry's gaze shifted to the raised gallery overlooking the entrance, where a packed crowd of onlookers gathered. Among them, Lucius Malfoy's imposing figure stood out, an arrogant smirk etched across his face. Determined to avoid the provocations of his rival's father, Harry let his eyes wander and met the gaze of the man he had encountered earlier outside the courtroom. A cheerful salute from the stranger elicited a grin from Harry before he redirected his focus to Minister Fudge.
"Please take a seat, Mr. Potter," Fudge said with thinly veiled contempt, pointing to a hard wooden chair in the center of the room, facing away from the entrance. "We are ready to begin these proceedings."
Unease crept into Harry's mind as he scanned the room for Professor Dumbledore, not finding him among the Wizengamot members. He turned back to Fudge, seeking clarity.
"Excuse me, Minister, I thought Headmaster Dumbledore was supposed to be here."
Fudge responded with a cruel, triumphant smile. "It seems your Headmaster couldn't be bothered to attend the trial of a mere student. In cases of contempt shown to the Wizengamot, we shall proceed in his absence."
Harry felt a chill at the malicious satisfaction in Fudge's voice. Glancing back at the courtroom door and exchanging a reassuring look with the man he had met earlier, he took a deep breath and composed himself. Seating himself in the hard chair, he refused to allow Fudge's intimidation to break his resolve.
Fudge's feral grin accompanied the sudden appearance of restraints, binding Harry and rendering him immobile. The Minister's triumphant smirk set the tone as he called the courtroom to order.
"Order in the courtroom!" Fudge shouted, banging his gavel on the desk.
As the room hushed, Fudge scanned the attendees. "I call this trial of underage magic use for one Harry James Potter into session. The defendant is accused of using magic in the presence of Muggles, in violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. The truth of this charge, as well as the lies of said defendant, shall be revealed and acted upon accordingly."
"Is that so, Cornelius?" a resonant voice interrupted from behind Harry.
Harry strained to twist his head to see Dumbledore making a dramatic entrance, a twinkle in his eyes as he observed Harry. Impeccably dressed in long gray robes with a neatly tied white beard, Dumbledore's demeanor belied his displeasure. Despite the twinkle, there was an unmistakable power in his presence, and his gaze on the Wizengamot members was stern and disapproving.
Approaching Harry's chair, Dumbledore stood by his side and continued, "I assume that the location and timing of this hearing were changed without prior notice. If one were not familiar with the facts, Minister, they might think it was done intentionally to deprive Mr. Potter of his right to defend himself before this esteemed body."
Fudge's eyes tightened briefly before he sniffed dismissively. "The Wizengamot cannot be held responsible if you can't keep up with our proceedings, Dumbledore."
Raising an eyebrow, Dumbledore's gaze bore into Fudge, making the Minister squirm in his seat. "It appears the memo may have been lost, Minister. But we wouldn't want you to preside over a miscarriage of justice concerning one of your most famous subjects."
Fudge, now slightly pale, looked around at the Wizengamot members who had absorbed the implications of Dumbledore's words, and the room fell into an uncomfortable silence.
"Be that as it may," Dumbledore continued, "regardless of my opinion of this forum, we are here now. I suggest we conclude this matter as swiftly as possible so we can address more pressing issues. I will be representing Mr. Potter, and I yield the floor to you, Minister."
Inside, Harry felt elated by Dumbledore's implied rebuke of the Minister, though he tried not to show it on his face. Harry wasn't well-versed in wizarding law, but he understood that he was being singled out by a Minister who refused to see reason. What Dumbledore had said was not only fair but also just in the context of any wizarding law Harry was aware of.
"Very well," Fudge responded.
The Minister signaled for the prosecution to begin their case, with their star witness being Mafalda Hopkirk, the assistant whom Harry had communicated with twice before. Harry listened as Fudge prompted her to build the case against him, asking questions to extract what he considered crucial facts. He observed the triumphant glances Fudge directed at him throughout the proceedings. Unlike Ms. Hopkirk, who seemed to have nothing personal against Harry or Dumbledore, Fudge was clearly driven by his agenda.
She presented the facts of the case objectively, embellishing little and elaborating only when prompted. The facts were straightforward: on August 2, the Ministry's tracking devices detected a surge of magic traced to Harry's wand. Ms. Hopkirk initiated standard procedures and sent a letter to Harry's residence, notifying him of his expulsion from Hogwarts and the Ministry's actions. However, the order was revoked when Dumbledore intervened and convinced them to hold a hearing.
Fudge seized on this piece of information with a smirk, causing Harry to squirm in his chair.
"Ms. Hopkirk," Fudge began after she finished her report, "I assume this isn't the first time Mr. Potter has used magic improperly?"
"No, Minister. Mr. Potter has been detected using magic on two separate occasions outside of Hogwarts since he began attending."
"There!" Fudge exclaimed. "The Wizengamot can see the pattern of disobedience and contempt for the laws of our world—contempt that puts us all in danger of being exposed to Muggles! Can anyone speak in Mr. Potter's defense?"
"Minister, I believe Mr. Potter should be allowed to respond in his defense."
Fudge fixed his beady eyes on Dumbledore, his face contorted into a sneer. "Ah, yes—the crux of the matter. The esteemed Headmaster of our prestigious school, who has shown favoritism toward Mr. Potter. Tell the Wizengamot, Headmaster, why you felt the need to intervene on Mr. Potter's behalf. Has Mr. Potter received special treatment at Hogwarts?"
The insinuation was not lost on the members of the Wizengamot, and many looked at Harry with dark, contemplative expressions. Fudge had successfully shifted the focus onto Harry's relationship with Dumbledore, rather than the alleged crime. Dumbledore chose to ignore the insinuation.
"Tell me, Ms. Hopkirk," Dumbledore said, ignoring Fudge's provocation, "how is it that a letter was dispatched to Mr. Potter's residence so quickly? Standard procedure dictates that a first offense results in an immediate warning letter, but a second offense requires a review before any response is taken."
"Dumbledore, I hardly think this is—" Fudge began, but Dumbledore cut him off.
"But it is indeed pertinent, Minister. This forum's primary objective is to ensure Mr. Potter receives fair treatment, just like any other witch or wizard, in accordance with our laws. Ms. Hopkirk, I implore you to respond to the question," Dumbledore asserted.
Her gaze oscillated between the Minister and Dumbledore, the latter maintaining a stern expression. After a sigh, she reluctantly met Dumbledore's eyes and replied, "Minister Fudge sent a memo instructing swift action if Mr. Potter were detected using magic."
"Only Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore questioned, arching an eyebrow.
"Yes, sir," she affirmed.
Dumbledore's attention shifted back to the uneasy Minister, who appeared to have lost some of his composure.
"In response to your previous inquiry, Minister," Dumbledore continued, "I have consistently acted in the best interests of those under my charge, ensuring the safety and well-being of my students. I would extend the same courtesy to anyone who I believe is unfairly singled out. I had assumed this understanding was clear, Minister."
Although Harry couldn't entirely grasp the reference, he observed the tightening of the Minister's eyes and the discomfort on his face.
"Really, Dumbledore," Fudge snapped, "you should refrain from entangling yourself in lost causes like this. It may tarnish your reputation. Regardless of governmental actions in this case, the facts are relevant and irrefutable, as is the punishment."
"Mr. Potter deserves the chance to respond to his accusers, not just as a matter of his rights but due to the gravity of the consequences. Minister, do you propose he be summarily convicted without the chance to explain, or do you intend to perpetuate past mistakes by denying his rights?" Dumbledore pressed.
Fudge was practically snarling by this point. "Fine, Dumbledore. Make your case! How does Mr. Potter plan to defend his actions?"
"Harry, would you care to respond?" Dumbledore invited.
Feeling the weight of the Wizengamot's gaze, Harry summoned his courage, meeting Fudge's eyes directly. "We were attacked by Dementors, sir."
"Dementors, Minister!" Dumbledore's voice boomed. "Mr. Potter was attacked by Dementors on the morning in question, which explains his use of magic."
"Dementors?" Fudge screeched. "Are you suggesting a fourth-year student could cast a Patronus charm to repel Dementors? Preposterous!"
Although Harry had been quietly observing Dumbledore defend him, the realization struck him that Fudge wasn't interested in his acquittal.
"I've been able to cast the Patronus charm since my third year!" Harry asserted.
"The Patronus charm is a post-NEWT level spell that few in our society can successfully cast. Do you expect us to believe that you, a fifteen-year-old, can do what most adults cannot?"
"Give me my wand and let me show you," Harry snapped.
Fudge's eyes narrowed, but before he could retort, a short, pudgy woman in dark Wizengamot robes and a shade of lurid pink under them raised her hand. "Hem, hem," she cleared her throat before speaking. "I believe the point of whether Mr. Potter can cast a Patronus is academic. After all, the Dementors are under the control of the Ministry and cannot have been in Little Whinging."
Harry immediately disliked the woman; her sugary-sweet voice and simpering smirk were clearly an act.
"Well, there you are, Mr. Potter. What do you say to that?" Fudge asked triumphantly.
"The Dementors were there—I saw them. Mrs. Figg and my cousin Dudley were there as well."
"Muggles," Fudge spat with disdain. "Convenient, isn't it, that your only witnesses cannot actually see Dementors?"
"The effects of a Dementor's presence are well known, Minister," Dumbledore replied. "Simple questioning of the witnesses will establish whether they were affected."
"Rubbish! Your proposed questioning would be nothing more than circumstantial at best. We have proof through the Ministry recording devices of Mr. Potter's use of magic and nothing but his word about the existence of these Dementors to prove otherwise. Why would Dementors be after you, Potter, so far from Azkaban?"
"I don't know, Minister," Harry retorted defiantly. "I've been attacked by Dementors before, as you well know when you stationed them at Hogwarts in my third year. Maybe they somehow escaped, or maybe one of Voldemort's supporters sent them after me."
A feral grin spread across Fudge's face, and a wave of gasps and whispers swept through the chamber at the mention of Voldemort's name. "Ah, so we finally get to the heart of the matter—Mr. Potter's insistence on the return of the Dark Lord. Tell me, Potter, why are you so insistent on claiming the impossible? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has been dead for fourteen years, after all. You were there, weren't you?"
Harry sat up as straight as his restraints allowed and glared at Fudge. "I'm telling you he's back because it's the truth."
"I'm telling you it's impossible!" Fudge shouted. "Do you think you're some kind of deity who can resurrect a man who has been dead for over a decade?"
"I didn't bring him back, Minister. He was brought back by Peter Pettigrew, using a dark ritual."
"Peter Pettigrew! Another man dead since you were a child! Are there no end to your lies?"
"Minister, it's well-known that there are ways to tether one's existence to this world and ways to bring someone back from the dead. I've never believed Voldemort was truly gone, and given his fear of death and self-interest, my belief is not unfounded. He's out there, and now he has returned. It would be foolish not to act to protect our society."
Fudge glared at Dumbledore in disgust. "And yet, you have no proof of these claims except the word of a young, attention-seeking upstart who seems intent on causing panic."
"The proof exists if you would only look at it!"
"Enough!" Fudge shouted. "I won't listen to the lies of this young man or your attempt to spread panic in these halls. Mr. Potter is a spoiled, indulged brat who has been living off his past glory for far too long. I intend to put an end to his lies for the good of our society."
Leaning back in his chair, Fudge smirked at Dumbledore. "I have another theory about Mr. Potter's experiences. He's trying to sow fear and discord because his star has faded since his return to our world. He wants to recreate his past celebrity by invoking the name of our greatest enemy. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead, Mr. Potter. You won't receive any more adulation for an accident that happened when you were a baby!"
"If he's truly dead and gone, then why are you afraid to speak his name?" Dumbledore asked, his question echoing through the chamber.
The members of the Wizengamot reacted differently, with some appearing intrigued and others affronted that Dumbledore had dared to speak the dark lord's name.
"Surely the Minister can't be afraid of a dead man," Dumbledore continued, causing a swell of noise and even some snickers among the Wizengamot members. He had scored a point.
Fudge sputtered, trying to regain control of the situation. "It doesn't matter what you call him, Dumbledore. The man is dead, and regardless of what Mr. Potter thinks he saw, he cannot have seen the Dark Lord. He's obviously lying."
"I'll take Veritaserum!" Harry yelled desperately.
"What?" Fudge looked taken aback.
"Give me Veritaserum, and it will prove I'm telling the truth!"
"Veritaserum is a valuable substance," Umbridge chimed in with her sickeningly sweet voice, while Fudge sputtered again. "We don't use it on anyone with a random claim. Your case doesn't qualify, Mr. Potter."
"On the contrary—" Dumbledore began, but was interrupted by Fudge's furious outburst.
"Bollocks! We've had enough of this. It's time for the Wizengamot to deliberate and determine the outcome of this hearing."
Harry was uncertain how it would play out, but he had seen Dumbledore score significant points. However, he wasn't prepared for what happened next.
By this time, Jean-Sebastian had heard enough. The British Minister was clearly intent on pushing his own agenda and was not interested in the truth. It was time to repay Sirius's trust and change the course of events.
"Enough, Minister!"
Ignoring the astonished look on Fudge's face, Jean-Sebastian rose from his chair and vaulted over the barrier separating the spectator gallery from the rest of the chamber. He quickly made his way down to the floor and approached the chair where Harry was still sitting, looking shocked and hopeful.
Once he reached Harry, Jean-Sebastian scowled at the chair that had held the young wizard captive and flicked his wrist to release the restraints. Harry stared at him, his expression a mixture of shock and gratitude.
"Stand up and face your accusers, Harry. That chair was designed to strip a person of their free will and dignity. You will not spend any more time in it."
Jean-Sebastian then turned to address the stunned onlookers, making his intentions clear.
"This hearing is a farce, Minister. I will not allow you to continue with this character assassination, this kangaroo court. You have no interest in the truth of Harry's actions; you only want to push your agenda of denial and your destructive Pureblood bigotry. Harry will not be sacrificed for your political gain!"
Fudge, recovering from his initial shock, demanded an explanation. "Ambassador! What is the meaning of this?"
Glaring at the Minister, Jean-Sebastian helped Harry to his feet. "This hearing is a mockery of justice. I represent the ICW."
Fudge was momentarily taken aback. "And what authority does the ICW have in England?"
Jean-Sebastian took a moment to emphasize the weight of his words. "The ICW cannot intervene directly in an internal British matter, but Mr. Potter is of international interest. He is commended by the ICW for his actions, including surviving an attack by one of the most feared dark lords and his performance in the Tri-Wizard Tournament."
Fudge attempted to maintain his composure but was clearly shaken by this revelation. "The ICW's commendation means nothing here. Mr. Potter is a British citizen."
"Indeed," Jean-Sebastian acknowledged, "but his actions have earned him notoriety and fame beyond Britain's borders. The ICW has recognized him as a person of interest to the entire wizarding world."
"The ICW has no legal authority in Britain," Fudge retorted.
"True," Jean-Sebastian conceded, "but international reputation and relationships matter. To disregard the ICW's commendation would not be wise, even for the most powerful among you."
"The ICW's commendation is meaningless in a British court," Fudge insisted, though his confidence was waning.
"Perhaps not legally," Jean-Sebastian agreed, "but politically and diplomatically, it carries weight. And it shows that the world beyond your borders is watching."
Fudge scowled, but the members of the Wizengamot seemed to be considering the implications of the ICW's support for Harry Potter.
Jean-Sebastian continued, addressing Harry, "Mr. Potter, it appears that your adventures have gained you much attention and fame beyond the boundaries of England. Offers of refuge have come from many countries, including my own."
Harry, still slightly bewildered by the turn of events, exchanged a glance with his benefactor. He knew he needed to learn more about the wider wizarding world, and it seemed that Jean-Sebastian was willing to help. For now, he faced his accusers, hoping that the support he had received would tip the scales in his favor.
The Minister's glare was now directed fiercely at the accused, as if he were attempting to devise a way to salvage his case. Jean-Sebastian, on the other hand, maintained his steely gaze, allowing his dislike and disgust to shine through his eyes. Fudge's narrowed eyes indicated that Jean-Sebastian had certainly made himself an implacable enemy on this day. However, he firmly believed it was worth it, given everything he had heard about Harry and the Dark Lord's ominous interest in the young wizard. Harry Potter had the potential to be a pivotal figure in the fight against Voldemort, and Jean-Sebastian was willing to support him.
"The ICW is irrelevant!" Fudge retorted one last time, making a final attempt to rescue his case. "Mr. Potter has violated the law, international law, I might add. Our duty as a society is to uphold the secrecy of our world."
"Then instruct your Aurors to prepare the Veritaserum," Jean-Sebastian replied calmly. "Mr. Potter has already agreed to its use."
It was the short, pudgy woman in pink who interjected, her voice sugary-sweet but tinged with shrillness. "The use of Veritaserum—"
"—is sanctioned in all trials to determine the truthfulness of the accused, as long as the Wizengamot approves. Surely, as a member of this esteemed body, you would understand the laws of your own country," Jean-Sebastian interrupted her.
She bristled visibly at his words, which piqued Jean-Sebastian's curiosity about her unwavering support for Fudge in this matter. It was a detail he intended to investigate further.
"The matter is clear!" she insisted, her voice now more shrill than sweet. "The statute was violated, and Mr. Potter has confessed."
Dumbledore, who had been mostly quiet during the proceedings, finally spoke up. "The term 'reasonable' is present in the statute for a reason. Defending oneself against Dementors would be considered a reasonable action by any wizard or witch. Veritaserum can verify the presence of Dementors on that morning."
Fudge, undeterred, retorted, "Unless he's delusional!"
"Then the testimonies of the witnesses will also be necessary," Dumbledore replied with a hint of sarcasm. "Unless you believe that they were all suffering from a shared delusion."
The sarcasm did not escape the notice of the Wizengamot members, and Jean-Sebastian sensed that the tide of opinion was turning against the Minister.
"Minister," Jean-Sebastian began, addressing Fudge directly, "from what I have witnessed today, it appears that you may harbor a personal vendetta against this young man, although I am at a loss to understand why. My brief conversation with Mr. Potter leaves me with the impression of a decent, intelligent young man who has faced adversity through no fault of his own. As a hero to the British wizarding people, do you truly wish to be remembered as the Minister who drove him away from England? How could your citizens turn on Harry so quickly? Have they even been given the truth about him?"
This statement captured everyone's attention, including Fudge's, and it seemed to have a profound impact. Jean-Sebastian knew that Fudge could have painted Harry in any light he pleased, as long as he controlled the flow of information and maintained public opinion on his side. But now, with his arguments in tatters and his personal bias against Harry laid bare for all to see, it would be political suicide to continue pushing for conviction and punishment.
Jean-Sebastian's grin was almost predatory. "Ah, I see I have your attention now. Regardless, I will not allow the exploitation of young Harry Potter to continue any longer."
The looks of confusion and unease on some faces bordered on comical if Jean-Sebastian weren't so deadly serious.
"Because the English wizarding world has shown itself incapable of ensuring Mr. Potter's well-being, I regret that I must take steps to guarantee he is never subjected to such treatment again. I have recently become aware of a document signed by my father and Mr. Potter's grandfather over fifty years ago—a document that allows me to be of assistance to the young man. With the agreement of his guardian, I am invoking an ancient marriage contract between Mr. Potter and my eldest daughter. As I say it, so it shall be!"
Jean-Sebastian's proclamation hung in the air, leaving the Wizengamot members and Fudge himself in shock. The unexpected twist in the proceedings had taken everyone by surprise, and the ramifications of this bold move were yet to be fully understood.
The room buzzed with whispers, as the implications of this revelation sunk in. The notion of an ancient marriage contract was a relic of an era long past, and the Wizengamot members struggled to reconcile this archaic tradition with the modern wizarding world.
Fudge, regaining some composure, sputtered, "This is preposterous! Marriage contracts are outdated and have no place in our society."
Jean-Sebastian's gaze remained unwavering. "The contract is binding, Minister, and recognized by the International Confederation of Wizards. It is a measure taken to protect Mr. Potter from the unjust treatment he has faced today."
The short, pudgy woman in pink, who had been silent for a moment, now found her voice. "This is an abuse of power! You can't just force someone into a marriage!"
Jean-Sebastian's tone remained calm. "It is not force if both parties willingly agree, and I assure you, Mr. Potter's guardian is fully aware of the situation and has given his consent."
Harry, still absorbing the shock of the sudden turn of events, exchanged a bewildered glance with Dumbledore. The mention of a marriage contract and the involvement of Jean-Sebastian's eldest daughter added a layer of complexity to an already convoluted situation.
Fudge, realizing the political implications of challenging an international wizarding authority, chose his words carefully. "This may be within the purview of the ICW, but it doesn't absolve Mr. Potter of the charges he faces."
Jean-Sebastian nodded. "Mr. Potter will be returned to my jurisdiction immediately, and I will oversee a fair and impartial trial, free from the biases that have tainted this hearing. The ICW will closely monitor the proceedings to ensure justice prevails."
Fudge, seething with frustration, had little choice but to acquiesce. The unexpected intervention by Jean-Sebastian had shifted the balance of power, leaving the Minister with few options.
As the Wizengamot members began to grumble and discuss the unprecedented events, Jean-Sebastian cast a final stern look at Fudge. "This is the path you have chosen, Minister. Ensure you choose wisely in the days to come."
With that, Jean-Sebastian, accompanied by Harry and Dumbledore, exited the Wizengamot chamber, leaving behind a bewildered and murmuring assembly. The course of Harry's fate had taken an unexpected turn, and the repercussions were sure to reverberate throughout the wizarding world.
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