Chapter 32: In the Courtroom
It had become a rather dangerous situation, and her family was hanging precariously close to a catastrophic fall from grace.
And she knew at whose feet the blame lay.
Still, Narcissa Malfoy had saved her husband from a lifetime of imprisonment once before with careful application of deception and a scattering of truth to lend believability to her version of events. The situation this time was different, more difficult to simply sweep aside, but she had still managed to get a message through to him with a simple plan to follow. It would succeed.
She would allow nothing less.
Even so, a dark corner of her mind considered simply cutting all ties with the man—saving the family name at the cost of its current patriarch. But her son cared greatly for his father, of course, so she wouldn't go quite that far.
Unless she had no other choice.
Her heels clacked rhythmically on the marble floor as she strode through the halls of the Ministry, posture tall and proud and somewhat contrary to the fact that her husband was currently imprisoned elsewhere in this very same building.
She arrived at the elevator just as the gate noisily slid open, releasing a small purple paper plane. It was followed by two young witches who were complaining to each other rather loudly about a recent recall of cosmetics potions. A scruffy older wizard that had been waiting there had to hastily get out of their way or risk being smacked by one of their conversational hand gestures. He was oddly dressed in a muggle-style suit and bowtie, and when he glanced her way there was an odd glimmer of recognition in his eyes.
"You're Narcissa Malfoy, yes?" the wizard asked as they stepped into the lift together. His tone was just barely sharp around the edges—a hint that her family wasn't one he necessarily wanted to be around—but was otherwise perfectly polite.
The gate trundled shut behind them.
"My name is Mark Perkins," he continued, introducing himself with a small nod. "So I take it you're heading down to old Courtroom Ten, correct?"
She tilted her head slightly, an unspoken question, and he chuckled as he hit the button for the ninth level. The lift slowly began to descend.
"It could be said that I have a… particular interest in that case," he remarked, and he smiled like he was in on some secret joke, "some friends of mine ended up caught up in the entire fiasco, you see."
"You are attending as a spectator, then?"
"I understand that it is technically an open hearing, yes?" He had a knowing smile. "It's just that not many people know it's going on."
Narcissa very carefully kept her expression bound to a neutral interest; she had needed to call in a lot of favors and pull a lot of strings to ensure that silence, cutting deals to keep the specifics under wraps. It would be disadvantageous to have an angry and scared public pushing the decisions of the court around, after all.
Before she could reply, however, the feminine voice of the lift announced a stop and the gate folded to the side with a clang.
"Level three," it said coolly, "Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Headquarters, and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee."
A witch hurried on, grumbling under her breath about irresponsible superiors and last-minute summons. "This always happens," she vehemently griped. "Always saying 'Everybody's just so busy, you know how it is!'— I do, actually! I know for a fact that all Janice is doing is getting more ink for her self-inking quill, that little—"
Perkins coughed pointedly, getting her attention. "Which level are you headed to?"
She blinked, then flushed pink with embarrassment. "O-oh sorry, right…" The witch reached out to hit a button, then stopped. "Huh. Looks like we're all headed to the same floor."
"To a point, at least," he replied. "Courtroom Ten, to be specific."
That came as something of a surprise to her. "Really? Me, too. Apparently they needed a 'Muggle Interests Speaker', or some such bollocks." Then she sighed, looking a bit grumpy. "Not that they'll actually have me do any speaking… Merlin knows I'll just end up watching from the stands and not contributing at all. And, of course, no one else wanted to do it… so here I am."
"I myself don't have any special reason to go. Well, beyond my own curiosity."
Both of them somewhat pointedly did not ask why Narcissa was attending, and she wasn't sure if she appreciated or resented their tact.
The elevator only stopped two more times before reaching its final destination: once to let a slew of paper planes fly in and again for them to depart.
"Department of Mysteries," chimed the calm voice from the lift, and the door rattled open.
Perkins sighed, and he pressed a hand to his lower back. "And now," he turned to the left, where there was an opening leading to a flight of steps, "my greatest foe: stairs."
The younger witch chuckled a little at that, and led the way down.
The staircase led into a lower level the elevator wasn't built to reach, for some reason. Rough stone walls and heavy wooden doors lined the dark corridor, the occasional torch providing only barely enough light to see general features.
Conversation had long since died away, so the only sound to be heard was their own footsteps: the sharp tap of her own high heels and the softer footfalls from the two walking with her. Narcissa strode ahead of them, more anxious than she cared to admit. The two ministry employees shared glances in her wake and tried to pick up their pace as well.
The courtroom was as she remembered it to be: unwelcoming and cold, dark wooden seating ringing the open floor like menacing sentries. At the center, draped in chains, stood the chair for the accused. Narcissa scowled at it as she took her place in the witness stands. She was a little surprised that Amelia Bones—who was Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—would be presiding over this hearing, and not the Minister of Magic himself.
But then again, Cornelius Fudge had never been a very brave man. Especially when it came to matters regarding the Dark Lord.
There were a few more minutes until the hearing was set to begin, and she spent them silently reviewing to herself; she had to present her husband as sympathetic, a man who had needed to choose between bad choices. Nobody could fault him for his actions if the alternative would have meant placing his wife and son at risk, after all.
Then, finally, the door swung open and her husband, flanked by Aurors, was led inside. Lucius sat on that horrible chair, and the chains leapt to life with a metallic rattle, binding his wrists and ankles.
After a brief moment of silence, the hearing began.
"Criminal hearing of the second of September regarding the attack after the Quidditch World Cup," dictated Madam Bones as the court scribe busied himself copying her words down on parchment, "and offenses committed against the Decree for the Peaceful Coexistence of Peoples and the International Statute of Secrecy by one Lucius Abraxas Malfoy of Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, along with others that, for the purposes of this hearing, need not be listed here."
Her low voice was strict and controlled, admirably precise; she was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, after all, and clearly versed in the proper procedures. She continued through the rest of the usual courtroom etiquettes quickly and efficiently.
Then she paused, as if to let the words settle, and flipped open a folder. She pulled out the top packet of papers, quickly thumbed through them, and then folded her hands together.
"You are Lucius Abraxas Malfoy of Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire?"
"That I am, yes," he agreed, tone as smooth and in control as ever.
"And do you deny that you were present during the attack at the Quidditch World Cup?"
He shook his head. "No, I do not."
There were murmurs through the watching witches and wizards, no doubt surprised at the easy confession. Even Madam Bones seemed momentarily taken aback, though she quickly gathered herself again.
"Did you, or did you not, participate in the attack at the Quidditch World Cup?"
Lucius frowned ever so slightly, as if his reply was weighed down with guilt; he had always been a remarkable actor. "Yes."
With a small frown of her own, Madam Bones leaned forward. "Free of coercion, magical or otherwise?"
He was halfway through a nod, and Narcissa took that as her cue to step in.
"Lucius," she said sternly, but with a calculated waver to her voice. "I… I can't let you do this."
"Dear, I have to do this. What I did—"
"I know!" Narcissa cut in with fervor; she didn't even need to fake it. "But it was because of us—"
Madam Bones called for order, and a flick of her wand made a sharp cracking sound to gather attention back to the matter at hand. She regarded Narcissa for a moment, then turned to Lucius. "What does she mean by that?"
He looked to the side and said nothing.
"If I may?" Narcissa asked, and she was waved forward. Still, she made herself hesitate. "Forgive me, I… I must ask that what I say here remain privy only to this court." After glancing over everyone in attendance, she turned her gaze back to Madam Bones. "For the safety of my family."
"We can do so," Madam Bones nodded, considering, "but know that such a decision can only be made after the conclusion of the hearing."
She closed her eyes for a long moment, as if debating her options, before sighing. "Very well. I only hope that you…" Narcissa let her sentence drift off uncertainly and pressed a hand over her heart, skillfully playing her part. "Very well," she repeated, more quietly.
"Narcissa," Lucius said, tone hushed.
"He did it for us," she said again. "When they summoned him to… to participate, he knew that refusal would mean putting us—Draco and myself—at risk."
There was another flurry of whispers among the crowd, and Madam Bones—who was looking thoughtful, at least—hushed them with a raised hand. "Is this true, Mr. Malfoy?"
Lucius didn't look away from his wife, as if he were unable to, and his sober expression was all but inscrutable. Then he closed his eyes and, with the attitude of a man consigning himself to death, said, "It is."
Madam Bones hummed. "Tell us more."
He sighed. "You know the circumstances behind my participation in the war, yes?"
She looked skeptical of that—a lot of people did—but she nodded.
"The other Death Eaters did not know that I was a… less-than willing member. The Dark Lord understandably didn't tell anyone but his most trusted about his use of Imperio; it would weaken the confidence and morale of his troops."
Narcissa had to admire his skill; everything he had said was strictly the truth. It was in what he had chosen not to say—and how he chose to say what he did—that was where the shape of his story lay. There were lies in the spaces between what he said.
After all, the best lie is one built from the truth.
"So when they came to me a little over a week ago," Lucius continued, and he took a deep breath, "they expected to find a comrade—an ally—and if I proved to be anything less…" He stopped himself, allowing his apt listeners to fill in their own conclusions.
"I see." Madam Bones sat back in her chair for a moment, musing over what had been said. Then she carefully flipped through a few of the papers before her.
There was a long moment where the only sound came from those rustled pages, and when she spoke again she had apparently moved on to a new topic.
"Mr. Malfoy," she said, "at our request, you have willingly provided us with a memory of the incident. For the record, is this true?"
"It is."
Narcissa didn't let her expression reflect her surprise, keeping the crease of worry on her forehead and allowing only the slightest tug downward on the corners of her lips. It did make sense, in hindsight. Her husband was a skilled Occlumens—he could easily have manipulated the memory to ensure it couldn't be used against him. As such, willingly offering up his memory in exchange for the promise of a lighter sentencing posed no risk to him.
It was a good deal.
After all, the Ministry was very interested in finding who had put a stop to the attack.
=X=X=X=
On the other side of the country, taking a tactical nap in his very first Transfiguration class, Sans stifled a sudden sneeze.
=X=X=X=
Tapping the stack of papers resting on her podium with one finger—presumably a transcript of the memory in question—Madam Bones asked, "Can you confirm the validity of this account?"
There was a strange emotion lining the witch's voice, as if she wanted to hear a denial but was uncomfortably certain that no such response was coming.
"I can, indeed," Lucius agreed. "Though not with anything more than further testimony."
So Madam Bones took a deep breath, and asked the question that she had probably been building toward the whole time: "What can you tell us about that night, Mr. Malfoy?"
"I don't know who he was," he said, taking a very accurate guess at what they would be most interested in hearing about. "I don't even know what he looks like. He was clearly using some sort of illusion spell to mask his features… Well, I suppose you know all this. You saw the memory, of course."
She nodded, expression unreadable. "For the court, please describe the events as you remember them. First of all, was this figure a witch or a wizard?"
"A wizard, certainly," he answered at once. "He had a remarkably low voice even though, from what I could see, he was quite short. And very pale. There was… there was a flickering light around his left eye, which I assume to be part of the illusion to hide his appearance." For a moment, Lucius actually hesitated. "I couldn't see his face."
Catching that pause, Madam Bones pressed, "You couldn't?"
He frowned to himself. "You know what I saw."
"Humor me, Mr. Malfoy."
"Half of his face looked… skeletal." Though he remained perfectly still, Narcissa knew her husband well enough to see that it was only because he wouldn't let himself shake. "He had white hair, and was wearing some sort of blue robes. That's all I could see."
Beside her, the witch from the elevator earlier frowned slightly. Under her breath, she muttered, "White hair… and blue…? Why does that sound so…" Then her eyes went wide and she made a small surprised sort of sound.
One apparently loud enough for Madam Bones to notice. "Miss Nettlebane? It's my understanding you were one of the Obliviators dispatched to the scene, correct?"
"Oh, uh, yes," she answered. "Yes, I was."
"Does that description remind you of anyone?"
Miss Nettlebane swallowed, uneasy. "I… well, I do know of one person, maybe…" She shook her head. "But he was just a kid, so it couldn't have been him!"
Quieter, so quiet that even Narcissa only barely caught it, she added, "Right?"
"True," Madam Bones agreed, and left it at that. "Mr. Malfoy, please continue."
He took a deep breath. "One of our number cast the Killing Curse at him." There was honest incredulity in his voice when he finished, "He simply… I don't know how he did it. The curse just… turned away."
Silence.
"I remember feeling suddenly as if I could barely move, and shortly after that there was a strange light at my chest. I don't know what that was. It didn't seem to do anything at all." Lucius shook his head slowly. "Then he made a sweeping gesture with his hands, and anybody who wasn't careful enough suddenly found themselves without their wand. Naturally, most of them were taken out at that point."
He tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling, and one of his chained hands gave a small gesture upwards. "The next thing I know, that heavy feeling is back and… I don't know how, but I was thrown into the sky. That's all I remember."
Madam Bones nodded; apparently that matched the memory record he had provided. "Thank you for your cooperation." She said nothing else, and the judges began to discuss things among themselves.
After a few long minutes, the whispered debates stopped. Narcissa kept her breathing steady, refusing the acknowledge the nervous tension in her chest, and waited.
"Alright then." Addressing the chamber as a whole, Madam Bones asked, "Those in favor of issuing the accused a fine of one thousand and twenty eight galleons and three knuts, as previously decided, as well as placing the accused under house arrest for the period of one year, please raise your hands."
A number of hands went up, but there was not enough time for Narcissa to count them.
"Those in favor of pursuing harsher punishment, please raise your hands now."
Interestingly, Madam Bones had refrained from voting. But even then, it would be close—closer than Narcissa would have liked.
The score was tallied quickly.
"Very well, then." Madam Bones smiled. It wasn't a pleased smile, or annoyed; just polite. "Auror Williamson will accompany you home, and we will send you an owl with the fine." She tucked her papers back into the folder and stood up. "Dismissed."
The chains dropped away.
Her family wasn't out of danger yet—not nearly. It would take a lot more work to pull them completely back from that precarious edge, but she would manage. She would make sure her son was safe.
Narcissa Malfoy would allow nothing less.
Author's Note:
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Undertale.
A glimpse at the wizarding legal system in action.
Oh geeze, I'm really cutting it close on this one. Sorry it's gotten to be so late, this chapter was really hard to write for whatever reason—none of these character's make puns, how is dialog meant to work without incidental puns?!
Anybody writing for NaNoWriMo this year? I'll be working on an original piece—one I've been messing around with for literal years of my life and making no real progress—so we'll see how that goes!
Just wondering, but what sort of jacket do you picture Sans's blue jacket to be? A big winter coat with a fluffy hood, or perhaps just a blue hoodie? Something else? I've been writing it as a hoodie, but recently I've been considering going back and changing that.
Updates are on the first of the month. It's still technically the first on the month for me right now, still counts! On that note, please tell me if you notice any spelling mistakes or the like. I'm posting this really close to the deadline, and could easily have missed things in my rush.
Thanks for all the support! It always makes me so happy to see that you all are enjoying the story, so thanks for every review, follow, and favorite! Can you believe that this thing has over 1,000 reviews?! And it's getting close to 200,000 views! It's unbelievable!
A couple of people asked this, but PDEs stands for Partial Differential Equations. Fun stuff, I know; the glory of being a math major.
And here's some random fanfiction recommendations, just for the heck of it:
"The Monster Files" by FantasiaWandering
Basically, this nameless government organization is trying to monitor the activities of the newly freed monsters with, shall we say, limited success.
"Before" by AriTheDoggo
This is a Breath of the Wild story, not Undertale… but whatever. I've been enjoying it so far.
See ya on the flipside, everyone!