The Alarm Charm placed directly on his pillow vibrated Harry awake. Throwing the blanket away from his body quietly as he could manage, he gently dropped his feet to the floor. Ron's quiet snoring was the only noise in the near darkness of the room. The sun was only just beginning to crest the horizon outside.
Normally, Harry would be sleeping in right along with his friend, but that wasn't an option this morning. He grabbed a change of clothes and padded softly across the floor. The door creaked slightly as he opened it but not nearly enough to wake his deep-sleeping friend. He made his way down the stairs to the bathroom. It was the early morning of 30 August, and in just two days' time they'd be returning to Hogwarts. But the day held more significance than that.
The trial of Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy was set to take place that morning. According to the letters he'd exchange with Amelia, it wouldn't be a particularly long one. The evidence against each man was overwhelming, and they'd be lucky not to find themselves executed given the nature of their crimes. But as a direct witness to their most recent crime, and the one with the greatest international significance, Harry still needed to be there. Not to mention what Amelia has planned for Sirius.
Despite her assurances, he couldn't help the nervous caution in the back of his mind. He didn't trust the Minister not to try something to get himself and his benefactor out of the sticky situation they'd found themselves in.
He reached the bathroom without seeing anyone else, though he could hear the soft clanking of pots and pans from the kitchen below. Probably Mrs. Weasley getting breakfast ready for the family.
The bathroom had a clinging humidity to it, used just a few minutes before by Arthur. There was still condensation on the mirror.
Harry jumped in the shower. The light spray of hot water caused steam to rise in the room. His muscles were sore from hours of quidditch and swimming the day before. Yesterday was likely to be their last day of easy freedom for a while, so they made the most of it. Who knows just how long I'm going to spend at the Ministry today, and no telling if it'll spill over to tomorrow. Plus, Ron will no doubt have a few last-minute finishing touches he needs to make to his summer work.
He didn't take too long in the shower, a habit he developed over the years with the Dursleys. Out of sight, out of mind. Less time in spaces they might need to use the better. It'd never been what he would call a pleasant childhood, but it was far better than others received.
He had his own room, they fed him regular meals, gave him money to purchase his own clothes once he was old enough, and he was checked up on regularly by people who actually cared about him. And next year, once I've finished my OWLs, we'll never have to bother each other again.
Witches and wizards reached their majority and were legally allowed to practice magic at the age of nineteen with the completion of their OWL testing. Failure could see a person's wand stripped from them and snapped. Admittedly, that was an incredibly rare thing. But, I would put a few galleons on Crabbe and Goyle managing the extraordinary ineptitude required to see it happen next year. Fucking numpties won't have their father's money to throw around to save themselves either. The only person he knew of that had it happened before was Hagrid, but that was because of circumstances outside of his control.
Rinsing the last of the soap and suds from his skin, Harry thought he heard the gentle jiggling of the door handle and cautious closing of the door, "I'll be out in just a sec." He expected whoever came in to leave once they realized there was already somebody using the room, but no such thing happened. Maybe I imagined it. Shutting off the water, Harry grabbed his towel from where it hung over the curtain rod.
Drying himself off, he wrapped the towel around his waist. He wasn't going to open the curtain butt-arse naked if there really was someone else in the room. The rings jangled as he pulled the curtain away. Standing there in the steamy room was Ginny, clearly waiting for him. She wore a large Gryffindor quidditch jersey, probably from Charlie in his playing days, and a pair of scarlet pajama bottoms. Her flaming red hair looked like she'd only just risen from bed.
Seemingly unable to stop herself, he noticed as she gave him a quick once-over. Her gaze stopped briefly on the lines of his abdomen, and the 'v' at his hips. Meeting his own gaze, she bit her lip. Her voice was hushed, mindful of the early hour, "Mornin'."
One thing he'd been incredibly grateful for since their encounter on the top floor of the Burrow was that there'd been no awkwardness between the two of them. There might have been some prolonged gazes and discreet smiles shared in a way that only they knew the significance of, but they continued behaving like the friends they were. Who knows? Might end up being more than that. I still need to tell her about Anya and Orina, though.
Harry raised one eyebrow at his unexpected guest, "Morning. Have a good night's sleep?"
REDACTED
Before he could leave, she hugged him tightly, pressing every pleasant inch of her body into him. Given what they'd just done, he was surprised just how intimate it felt as she stood on tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "Good luck, Harry. I'm sure everything is going to go great." She gave him a soft kiss high on his jaw.
They were careful leaving the bathroom. Harry left first, making his way down to the kitchen. Arthur sat at the table, sipping a cup of tea and reading over the previous day's Daily Prophet. It was too early for the current day's edition to arrive. Molly had tongs in hand, turning sizzling sausages on a cast iron skillet. "Good morning." He greeted, more loudly than was perfectly necessary. But that was his signal to Ginny that it was safe to make for her room.
"Good morning, Harry lad." Arthur greeted setting his paper aside, "How are you?"
"Bit anxious, but more excited than anything." Harry answered honestly. Molly filled his plate with eggs, sausage, grilled tomatoes, baked beans and black pudding. It was a proper English breakfast.
"Eat up, dear. There's no telling when you're going to get another chance today." There was little doubt in his mind that they'd be sent off to the Ministry with plenty of Molly's delicious fare, but he dug in all the same.
They ate in comfortable silent, and by the time they were done pale rays of morning light shone through the Burrows lower windows. Only Bill joined them, needing to get to work at Gringotts. The two eldest Weasley children were only staying at the Burrow long enough to see their younger siblings off to Hogwarts. Bill had another assignment starting in Egypt the following week, while Charlie needed to head back to the Dragon Reserve.
Arthur normally traveled to the Ministry via the floo, but that wasn't the case this morning. Instead, they left through the front door and walked to the gate, outside of the family's ward line. Arthur offered his arm to Harry, "Hold on tight now, Harry. Don't want you getting splinched the first time you apparate." He'd seen this particular feat of magic performed multiple times, most recently by Lucius, but he'd never side-alonged.
Gripping firmly at the crook of Arthur's arm, Harry felt like he was being squeezed through a tube, but after just a few uncomfortable seconds Harry found himself standing on a dingy street that had several shabby offices, a pub, and a wall covered with graffiti. There was no one around, but even if there were, their arrival wouldn't have been noticed. The apparition point was under Notice-Me-Not Charms and a Muggle Repelling Ward. Overcome with sudden nausea, Harry dry-heaved once but managed to keep his breakfast down. Now I wish Mrs. Weasley hadn't made so much food.
Arthur looked bemused and patted him on the back, "Well done, most people vomit the first time."
"Thanks for the warning."
"Trust me, knowing doesn't make it any better. And it's even worse on an empty stomach." Arthur led him over to a broken-down red telephone box. They climbed in together, and the ginger older wizard picked up the phone and dialed 62422.
A woman's voice spoke in the box, as though it were actually there, "Please state your business."
"Arthur Weasley escorting witness Harry Potter to the trial of Lucius Malfoy." A silver badge popped out of the telephone box with Harry's name and purpose, and they slowly began descending. It lasted for about a minute before they found themselves in the Atrium.
The entire structure of the Ministry of Magic was underground but there were magical windows that showed a bright sunlit sky. Seems something like the ceiling of the Great Hall at Hogwarts.
The Atrium was on Level 8. The room was a very long and splendid hall with gilded fireplaces running the length of each wall to his left and right. To his left were arrivals where every few seconds a new witch or wizard arrived for the day's work. To his right were the departures. The floor was a dark polished black walnut. Above him was a peacock-blue ceiling inlaid with gleaming golden symbols continually moving and changing like some enormous heavenly notice board. It seems that the World Cup stadium wasn't the exception, the Ministry loves to keep its appearances up. If only they were that concerned with proper governing.
Halfway down the hall was the Fountain of Magical Brethren. The group of golden statues depicted a witch, wizard, centaur, goblin, and house elf spouting water into a pool at their base. On the far end of the hall, they reached a set of golden gates and a security stand. Arthur approached the stand, "Morning Eric. I'm escorting a visitor."
"Step over here." Eric was completely non-descript save that he wore a bowler hat. His voice sounded monotonous and bored. He used a Probibity Probe to check Harry and a brass Wand Weigher to register his wand. The entire process was rather tedious, and Eric seemed to think so as well. He let them through into the Ministry proper without any further inconvenience though.
On the other side of the gates was a smaller hall with a series of lifts that led to the other levels of the Ministry. All around there were enchanted, folded pieces of parchment making their way to and from different departments. "We're headed to the DMLE. I'm on that level as well. Amelia will take you down to the courtrooms from there."
The lift was filled with unfamiliar faces, a few of them getting off as the lift stopped at each level on its climb upward. "Shack, how have things been?" Arthur asked a tall black wizard as the throng of people thinned out. He was broad shouldered, with one gold hoop earing in his right ear.
His voice was a deep baritone, "Busy Arthur, very busy. But interesting, and hopefully all that hard work will pay off by the end of the day."
"Kingsley here was the second investigator with Amelia on the case," Arthur informed Harry. "You'll find no finer man in the Auror department or any other department for that matter."
Harry offered his hand, it was taken in a firm handshake, "I'm Harry."
Surprisingly, his eyes didn't flick up to Harry's forehead, but he did recognize him, "Mr. Potter, I can't tell you how thankful myself and the boss were that you managed to catch Malfoy in the act. It's sad that it took pressure from half the magical governments of the world to finally see the bastard in a situation he couldn't wriggle his way out of with money and reputation."
"Better late than never."
"Too true." They reached Level 2, and all three men exited the lift. Arthur led the way to his own office where he dropped off his suitcase.
In Harry's opinion, it was quite awful that such a dedicated man, with quite a difficult job, was relegated to a small room barely bigger than a broom cupboard. It had two desks crammed inside with barely enough room to move thanks to the overfilled filing cabinets lining the walls.
Despite that, Harry would wager that the older man still loved what he did, as Mr. Weasley made the little space his own. The walls featured pictures and cutouts of various muggle devices from cars to a plug. He deserves better. Who knows? Maybe if they put a worthwhile minister in once Fudge is ousted, things might change.
They left hastily and made their way to the office of the Department Head. They passed a young brunette secretary, intently writing out a note. "Go right on in, she's expecting you," They were told without more than an upward glance.
Amelia's office was three times the size of Arthur's with less than a quarter of the clutter. Sitting behind the desk, the woman in question was talking intently with a fair-haired man. Amelia had dark red hair, close in color to mahogany. It was far different from the flaming red hair of the Weasleys and up in a tight bun. She had high cheekbones and dark blue eyes, that were narrowed in focus at whatever they were discussing.
Glancing in their direction, she raised a hand to stop the conversation, "Arthur! Early as usual and for the better, too. Lucius' supporters in the Wizengamot managed to have the time pushed forward an hour. I don't know what they hoped to achieve, but everyone has been made aware. You probably left before my note reached the Burrow."
Standing, Amelia approached the pair. Harry couldn't help but note that she shared the same curvaceous figure as her niece. Even beneath her navy-blue professional robes, it was impossible to hide her impressive bust or wide hips. And she was tall, nearly the same height as Harry in her heels.
She looked him over and nodded her head at whatever it was she found, "I've heard a few times that you look like your father. It couldn't be truer, Mr. Potter. He was a fine Auror. I should know I trained him when he came to the Academy. And your mother, she was a brilliant witch. We're worse for having lost them."
"Thank you, Madame Bones." He'd heard the same sentiments before, from people that barely knew his parents and some who loved them dearly. But that didn't stop him from appreciating the words.
"It's the truth," Amelia insisted, "And honestly, I should be thanking you. I've wanted to see Lucius behind bars since he bribed his way to freedom at the end of the last war."
"You, me and plenty of others. What can I expect today?" Her letters over the previous week discussed a great many things, but not the details of the actual court procedure.
"Most of the case against the accused today will be their own words both under Veritaserum and through recorded interrogations. That testimony will be given first followed by yours," she explained. "If it weren't for the pressure from the international community, I'm not sure I'd have even brought you. But an eyewitness to the crimes, willing to testify under Veritaserum is invaluable. I won't lie to you though. Your fame, and what it means to the wider public, helps as well."
"It'll be the best use I've ever made of it." There were times when he cursed his fame, he would certainly trade it for his parents, but he was going to make good use of it where he could.
Amelia smiled at him, "Very good." She gestured to the man behind her, who stood. He was big-bellied, a few inches shorter than Harry, with kind gray eyes, "This is Edward Tonks, he is the prosecutor for the trial today."
"Just Ted," He shook Harry's hand. "I'd like you to know that I've been informed of everything that is meant to come about because of this trial and I'm going to ensure that your godfather leaves this place a free man, whether it's today or a week from now. He's my wife's favorite cousin, after all.
"Your wife is a Black?" Harry was under the impression that Sirius had been the only black sheep of the bunch. Or white sheep in their case I suppose.
"She was. They threw her out of the family for deciding some things were more important than blood."
"With what I've heard from Sirius, that doesn't surprise me." It was only then that Harry noticed the third occupant of the room, "Susan! What're you doing here?" She wore formal robes, quite similar to her aunt's. Though, hers were an eye catching yellow. Can't help but show her Hufflepuff pride.
"Good to see you too, Harry." She smiled at him, a faint blush on her pale cheeks. Her copper hair, a few shades lighter than her aunt's, was braided and hung over her shoulder.
"Right, sorry," He gave her a crooked smile, "lovely to see you. Good summer?"
"Not bad, definitely less eventful than yours. I thought you only got up to trouble during the school year?" There was clear amusement in her deep blue eyes at the unusual circumstances he always found himself in.
"No, trouble has a way of finding me no matter where I am or what time of year it is. Despite my or anyone else's best efforts." Arthur coughed into his hand beside him, trying to hide a laugh.
"Susan is here because she will be taking up the Wizengamot seat for House Bones when she reaches her majority. To ensure she's ready for that responsibility, she sits in on all meetings and trials she can during the summer holidays." Amelia provided the answer to his earlier question.
"Boring?"
"Horribly," Susan agreed with a pretty laugh, "most the time anyway but necessary. I'm surprised you haven't done the same. You'll be taking up the seat for House Potter."
Harry frowned, "There are… some circumstances that make it difficult for me to do anything like that during the summer. Professor Dumbledore makes sure that I'm kept up to date on all the proceedings and procedures so that I'll be well prepared when the time comes."
Amelia checked her watch, "Nice as this has been, we all have somewhere we need to be." Amelia turned to Arthur, "I'll make sure Harry gets back to the Burrow safely. No telling just how long it will all take."
"If you're lucky, it'll be settled by lunch." He told them optimistically.
"We can only hope." The four left Mr. Weasley behind and made for the lift together. It was a quick descent down to Level 9.
"Department of Mysteries." That same voice announced as they reached their destination. It stood in stark contrast to everything else he'd seen in the ministry. The black tiled walls had no windows or doors, except for a plain black one at the end of the corridor. It's a far cry from the golden gates and gilded fireplaces of the Atrium. As they exited the lift, Amelia spoke to Harry, their footfalls echoeing eerily in the dark corridor, "Owed to the fact you'll be testifying under Veritaserum, you're allowed to view the trial as it happens."
They walked together toward the door of the Department of Mysteries. Two men stood near the door, "They're…Croaker and Bode," Amelia informed him, "two of the Unspeakables that work down here. No one really knows what they do, not even the Minister. They're the only people in this entire place that don't answer to the DMLE in one way or another."
They reached the plain black door and turned left, taking a staircase down to Level 10 and the courtroom. A dungeon-like corridor led to their destination.
Courtroom Ten was square with benches rising on each side. Torches lit the room and reflected off the shiny black stone that made up its walls. There was a second door to the room, through which the accused would be brought in. And in the middle of the room three chairs where the accused would be chained. Some ten or so members of the Wizengamot were already there. As well as spectators sitting among the benches.
Dumbledore, in his capacity as Chief Warlock sat in the middle. Ted Tonks joined him, sitting to his left as the prosecutor.
"Come on, Harry." Susan grabbed his hand and led him over to the spectators' benches, "They don't often use this courtroom. There are separate chambers for normal Wizengamot meetings and the Council of Magical Law. The last time they were used was after the Blood War as far as I know." Harry couldn't help but notice the fine robes of the others waiting amongst the benches. Foreign dignitaries who came to ensure the Ministry doesn't muck it up. He was quite sure he recognized one of the men from the top box at the Cup final.
"Looking forward to the new school year, Harry?" Susan asked, drawing his attention away from the others in the room.
"Always," he smiled thinking of the place that he considered home, "I'm just hoping I finally manage to have a normal year."
Susan snorted, "I don't think you'd know what to do with yourself. You'd be bored from the lack of excitement in a month."
"You might be right," he conceded with a chuckle, "but I'm sure I can find something to keep myself busy."
"How you manage at least one near-death experience a year, I'll never understand." As they talked, the courtroom steadily filled with more of the Wizengamot members until their benches were filled. Harry noted the arrival of Narcissa and Draco, the two Malfoys taking up seats across the room from him.
With the room seemingly full beyond capacity, Dumbledore banged a gavel, the sound amplified and echoed across the dark stone of the room, ceasing the dull murmurs and whispers of the room's occupants, "The Wizengamot is assembled, and I bring this court to order. We're here today for the trial of three members of this august body: Vincent Crabbe Sr., Geoffrey Goyle, and Lucius Malfoy. The three defendants shall be tried together, as their crimes, particularly those of interest to our esteemed guests, were carried out together."
Dumbledore gestured to his left, "Edward Tonks is the prosecuting attorney," and then his right, "Representative for the accused is Theodore Nott Sr." He looked toward the second door of the room, "Aurors bring in the accused." It was only because this trial specifically dealt with three Dark magic practitioners that the Aurors were doing such a, frankly, menial task.
A young woman, fresh out Hogwarts if Harry were to guess, with eye-catching pink hair, opened the door. The Death Eaters were brought in by three more Aurors, Shacklebolt included. They were escorted to the chairs and the chains came to life, wrapping around their ankles and wrists, binding them tightly in place. All three men looked quite haggard. Lucius in particular was a far cry from his usual immaculate appearance.
"The defendants are accused of possession of Dark artifacts, sedition, rape, murder, and terrorism. In the case of Lucius Malfoy, there is also the issue of attempted Line Theft." There was a dull murmur throughout the room, Dumbledore silenced it with another bang of the gavel, "Aurors, administer the Veritaserum to the first defendant and silence the others."
Shacklebolt uncorked a vial and approached Crabbe Sr. The man tried to resist, rocking fiercely in the chair, shaking his head about. But the chains were unrelenting, and Shacklebolt's large hands held hi in place, so his defiance lasted only briefly before the potion was forced down his throat. "Mr. Tonks, you may begin the questioning." Before he had the chance, the door to the courtroom banged open. Wands were drawn, Dumbledore's included, and pointed at the intrusion.
Standing there, bold as brass, was Cornelius Fudge followed by and ugly, toad-looking woman dressed in a garish pink and two Hit Wizards, both of whom had the good sense to look warily at all of the wands pointed in their direction, "Enough of this farce!" Does he think he can intimidate the court into doing what he wants? With such a measly show of force?
"Minister Fudge," Dumbledore replied, shockingly calm given the situation, "you are interrupting a lawful trial. Take a seat among the spectators if it pleases you, but otherwise be silent." He dropped his wand, seeing the Minister as no real threat.
"I will not! Fudge blustered, red in the face, "This is a baseless attack on three upstanding members of British wizarding society, and I won't stand for it""
"You need only listen to the evidence from the accused own mouths to know that is a lie. You were excluded from these proceedings because it was clear you couldn't be impartial, and you have no familial seat on this body. If you wish to remain you shall do so as a quiet citizen."
"You're just after my job!" Fudge yelled, and some of the foreign dignitaries openly laughed at the belligerent man.
"Cornelius! Every word you speak serves only to show how ill-suited you are to your position. You're making a mockery of this government in front of not only our Wizengamot but the wider wizarding world. Rest assured, by the end of the day there will be a vote of no confidence." This was no longer the genial headmaster, or even the Chief Warlock but one of the most powerful mages in the world. His voice was laced with its own magic, and it left the Minister and the toady behind him shaking, "Now, sit down!"
Finally, Fudge conceded. His shoulders sagged in defeat, and he shuffled himself over to the benches. The woman with him looked incensed but followed his lead.
Ted Tonks cleared his throat, "If I may, Chief Warlock?"
"Proceed."
"Mr. Crabbe did you knowingly, and of your own will, take part in the riots following the Quidditch World Cup final?" Ted asked, walking down along the front of the benches.
The man strained his neck trying to resist, but the answer fell from his lips quickly, "Yes."
"Were you a willing servant of the Dark Lord who styled himself as Voldemort?" One old woman screamed shrilly at the name, but she was paid no mind.
"Yes." And on and on the questioning went, a myriad of the horrible deeds committed before, during and after the last war were brought to light. First by Crabbe, then Goyle, and finally by Malfoy.
Nott had the good sense not to interrupt. There was no advantage to him in supporting the three men, and he was wise enough to know it. Meanwhile in the front row, Fudge grew ever paler watching in horror as his administration crumbled before his eyes.
Much of the questioning of Crabbe and Goyle was similar, they were nothing more than lackeys, but the same couldn't be said of Malfoy. Unlike the two other men, Malfoy made no attempt to fight the Trust Serum, he knew better.
"Did you take part in the murder of William and Rosalynn Bones?" Harry felt Susan stiffen beside him and offered his hand in support. She gripped it in both of hers, but her eyes were fixed on Malfoy in his seat. Of course, he knew that she grew up with her aunt but they'd never been close enough to know the reason for it.
"Yes." Susan took a deep, shaky breath. Tears formed at the edge of her eyes, but she stopped them from falling.
"Who else was present?"
"Evan Rosier and Augustus Rookwood." Ted looked to Dumbledore, who subtly shook his head.
Ted turned back to Malfoy, "With regards to Line Theft, did you knowingly withhold information that would have called into question the guilt of one, Sirius Black, so that you could take the voting rights of his family through your wife, Narcissa."
"Yes." He replied smoothly. This caused an uproar within the courtroom, none more than Fudge but Dumbledore silenced the room with a bang of the gavel.
"To your knowledge, as one of Voldemort's inner circle, was Sirius Black at any point a Death Eater?"
"No."
"Yet you claimed the exact opposite to Minister Bagnold, as well as Minister Fudge?"
"Yes." There was a lull in proceedings as Ted briefly returned to his bench. He glanced around the room and his eyes found Harry.
"Prosecution has only one witness, Chief Warlock," Ted started. "He is a minor but with his consent and that of his magical guardian, he's agreed to take Veritaserum. Prosecution calls Harry Potter to the floor." All eyes fell on him as he made his way down the benches to the center of the room. It was something he'd grown used to over the years. He could feel Draco's glare from across the room but didn't pay him any mind. I'm even more used to that than the rest of the stares.
Kingsley handed him a vial of clear liquid which he downed in one. Ted gave him a small smile, "Mr. Potter, when you reached the stadium during the riots on the night of 18 August. Who else was there?"
He could feel the potion compelling him to tell the truth, and he didn't resist in the slightest, "Mr. Malfoy, Goyle, and Crabbe and two of the Bulgarian mascots, Anya and Orina."
"And the men in question attacked these two Bulgarian mascots?"
"Before I arrived, yes. It was obvious by the state of the field, but they'd incapacitated them."
"And then they did what?"
"Malfoy forced a Lust Potion down Anya's throat."
"And what was your intent, Mr. Malfoy?"
"To have our way with her." He said it without a hint of remorse.
"Why give her a Lust Potion?" It was illegal to administer the potion without the consent of the person taking it.
He chuckled sardonically, "Because sometimes I prefer it when they want it. And I couldn't have a Veela trying to rip out my throat." Harry watched as Narcissa Malfoy stood and stormed from the court, dragging Draco along with her. Did she think her husband was a good man? That he didn't take part in the worst of it? Or did she just ignore it until she heard it from his lips?
"You stopped the three men?" Ted asked Harry.
"Yes."
"A gross use of underage magic!" Fudge interjected, "He should be…"
Dumbledore cut him off, "It was magic used in both the defense of himself and others. The precedent is clear in such situations. Kindly keep your mouth shut, Cornelius."
Ted continued as though he hadn't heard the Minister, "You broke their wands?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"To guarantee they wouldn't get away or get up only to harm someone else. I would have felt guilty if they went on to harm anyone else that night." Harry saw Lucius hand twitch and a tick in his jaw, he clearly hadn't been informed of the destruction of his wand. The foreign dignitaries seemed pleased with his answer.
Ted smiled at him, "Very good, Harry. Only a few more questions, though on a different matter. To your knowledge, who was your parents' Secret Keeper?"
"Peter Pettigrew." If you listened closely enough, you could hear the ticking of someone's pocket watch. So resounding was the shocked silence that followed that statement.
"How do you know this?"
"He admitted to it, in my presence, last spring."
"But Peter Pettigrew is dead?"
Nott Sr. finally spoke up then, "Why is this line of questioning relevant, it has nothing to do with the accused crimes."
"It is relevant to the issue of Line Theft," Ted countered.
"Pettigrew is a rat animagus. He hid in the wizarding world for fifteen years." Harry answered the question.
"No further questions, Chief Warlock." Harry was handed the antidote as Ted returned to the bench. Those last revelations caused quite the stir that quickly increased in volume.
Dumbledore banged his gavel, "Amelia, as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I believe it would be in the best interest of the Ministry that the Kiss-On-Sight Order be rescinded, and Sirius Black be brought in for questioning."
"Consider it done, Chief Warlock." Amelia smiled knowingly.
"Now, prosecution has revealed the crimes of the accused in great detail. Mr. Nott is there anything you wish to present in defense?"
"No, Chief Warlock."
"So, let us put it to a vote." Dumbledore's eyes scanned the room, looking for any disagreement, "All those in favor of conviction on all counts." Without the votes of Black, Malfoy, Goyle and Crabbe to sway things in their favor, the darker families saw sense and almost every hand in the chamber was in the air.
"The accused are found guilty on all counts." Dumbledore hid his own enjoyment of the entire proceeding with practiced ease. Neither Harry or Susan was quite as well-versed, and they couldn't keep the smiles from their faces. "The convicted shall be taken to Azkaban where they will await sentencing. Aurors please remove the convicts." He eyed each of the men as they were escorted from the room, "If there is no further business…"
"Chief Warlock," Amelia brought the attention of the room to her, "in the interest of seeing justice done today, there's one more trial we ought to oversee and a testimony, I think we ought to hear." He nodded his ascent, "Aurors, bring in Sirius Black." Even the banging of Dumbledore's gavel couldn't cease the clangor that rose from that declaration.