As the Wizengamot members chatted and settled down, taking their seats as they filed in, Hermione made a beeline for Barty Crouch Senior, suspecting this was the only time she'd get to talk to him for a while without him being in a distinctly foul mood. He looked to be in a bad mood now, though, giving sharp orders to his assistant as he took the Crouch seat, the assistant hurrying away.
"Sir," she greeted him. She swept him a curtsy. "Hermione Granger, for the Youth Representative of Great Britain."
Crouch eyed her over.
"I know who you are," he said curtly. "What do you need?"
"Sir," she said. "If I needed to work with someone in charge from the wizarding community of New Zealand, would that go through you? Or someone else?"
Crouch looked startled.
"New Zealand?" he said, incredulous. "That's out of the usual scope of my Department."
"But you head the Department of International Magical Cooperation," Hermione protested. "If not you, then who?"
Crouch grimaced.
"I suppose it's under my department," he conceded. "You'd need to work with the British representative for the International Confederation of Wizards. They're officially under my department, but they generally act independently of the rest of us."
"I see, sir," Hermione said. "Thank you. Who might that representative be?"
"Currently, Julian Selwyn," Crouch said. His upper lip curled. "Brother of Alina Selwyn, the famous robe designer." Disdain dripped from his tone. "Not closely related to Zarek, either, if you were hoping for an introduction."
"Ah—thank you, sir," Hermione said hastily, watching as Dumbledore took his seat. "I'll figure out where to go from here."
She hurried up to her own seat, retreating to safety, writing down on a piece of paper Julian Selwyn – UK Representative to the ICW.
As everyone settled, Dumbledore addressed the hall and began going over the agenda from the previous meeting, and Hermione found herself doodling impatiently on her parchment. Once old matters had been handled, Thoros Nott brought up that his tenants had indeed drawn from the silver allotted for them to protect themselves with, with Augusta Longbottom quick to cut in that her tenants had re-warded their tenancy as well. Amycus Carrow protested, loudly declaring that it was impossible for their tenants to re-ward the properties themselves.
"I know we put in writing that they could do it themselves if they wanted to," he said. "But we all know that they can't – they don't have the magic."
Augusta Longbottom narrowed her eyes.
"Come and test it, then," she challenged him. "Come and see for yourself, if they did the warding correctly or not."
Amycus flinched in the face of the Longbottom matriarch's glare. Thoros Nott reported that he, personally, verified that the wards on his tenancy were strong.
"I do not know who they hired to ward the property," he said. "I do not care. Only know that it was done, as intended by our legislation—" his eyes cut over to Amycus "—so it is working. The other tenancies will presumably be warded in the order previously discussed."
Hermione was mildly surprised that neither Augusta Longbottom nor Thoros Nott seemed to care about how their property had been re-warded, only that it had been done. If she had a bunch of tenants she thought to be magicless, she would certainly want to know how they'd suddenly pulled off such a feat.
Maybe they thought they just did a bad job of it and didn't care if their tenants got mauled. Hermione sniffed, sketching a rune on her paper as conversation turned to the complaint of a Fwooper that was loose in the Westerlands. She tuned it out, idly swatting a bug away from her as she drew on her parchment, doodling and distracting herself. She kept glancing up at Narcissa and Lucius, both of whom were sitting perfectly still, faces perfectly neutral and emotions masked.
Slytherins to the core, the both of them. Hermione hoped she'd be able to hide her emotions half as well by the time she was an adult.
After the Fwooper issue was addressed, finally, finally, Dumbledore said the words Hermione had been waiting for.
"Does anyone else have any matters to address before the Wizengamot?"
The Wizengamot all began to stir, as usually his last request for matters not on the agenda was met with silence, but this time, Narcissa Malfoy stood, and the room grew quiet.
"I have a matter to address before the Wizengamot," Narcissa Malfoy said. Her voice was firm, but she seemed to quake slightly where she stood. "If I might step forward?"
Dumbledore looked at her curiously, but he nodded. "The floor recognizes Narcissa Malfoy, Regent of House Black."
Narcissa nodded deeply and strode forward, black velvet robes shining. She clutched a parchment to her chest, and she took the podium at the end of the floor, setting her parchment on the lectern to read from. The podium was generally ignored during sessions – everyone tended to just talk loudly from the center of the floor – but the fact Narcissa had formally taken the podium seemed to catch everyone's attention, and there was a quiet murmur as Narcissa settled herself. She looked pale, and Hermione wondered if she'd powdered her face to look paler than usual.
"As Regent of House Black, I currently hold the Black Seat," Narcissa began. She paused. "However… I have been bid by the Head of House Black to issue a grievance with the Wizengamot."
There was a collective gasp, and several people sat up straight, eyes wide.
"And as Regent, I am compelled to present it to you all," Narcissa continued. She cleared her throat. "I will read it now."
There was a subtle change in Narcissa's voice as she began reading Sirius' complaint. Her voice deepened slightly, becoming more firm, and her words rang out in the chamber crystal clear.
"I, Sirius Black, Head of House Black, petition the Wizengamot. A serious miscarriage of justice has occurred, and for the safety of us all, it cannot go on any further.
"You may believe terrible things of me. I would not be surprised. Terrible things have been said and reported about me. And it is true that I have escaped Azkaban. But know this – my honor as a wizard and as a man compelled me to do so. I discovered Harry Potter, who is my godson, was in grave danger, and I had to act.
"Listen here, Wizengamot: hear of the miscarriage of justice that has occurred.
"Twelve long years ago, I was locked up and thrown in Azkaban without a trial – blamed for the deaths of a dozen muggles I did not kill. I have never received a trial, and I was never sentenced to serve a life sentence in Azkaban, no matter what the papers say. I challenge you – look for a trial transcript. Look for witnesses of people who were there. You will find nothing, because there was no trial.
"If there had been, you would know I am innocent.
"Twelve years ago, James and Lily Potter were betrayed by one of their closest friends, leading to their death. But it was not me – nay, I was the only person who knew the truth. I knew that Peter Pettigrew, a close friend of James Potter's, had been swapped out to be the Secret-Keeper at the last second, to trick our enemies, as everyone assumed that I would be chosen. When I heard of James and Lily's deaths, I was consumed by grief. I immediately knew what had happened, and vengeance took over as I hunted Peter Pettigrew down.
"All those years ago, when I finally cornered Peter Pettigrew on the street, he yelled for everyone to hear that I had betrayed James and Lily, blew open the street, killing a dozen muggles in the process, and he escaped.
"Yes – escaped. For not only did Peter Pettigrew rat out the Potters to his evil master You-Know-Who, but he was an unregistered Animagus – one who could take the form of a rat.
"I presumed he was gone, hidden in the muggle world across the ocean somewhere, starting a new life. Why would he come back, after he'd faked his death so well? I was locked in Azkaban all this time, weakened by Dementors. It was only when I learned where Peter Pettigrew was that I learned my godson, Harry Potter, was in imminent danger, and I was forced to act.
"Now, Wizengamot, is the time: I, Sirius Black, declare before the court that I am innocent, and that I have committed none of the crimes of which I am accused. As proof, I will offer Peter Pettigrew himself, the captured rat Animagus, alive. Peter's testimony will damn him for the crimes he has committed. Then, compel me to testify – the truth will set me free.
"I am no fool. The Ministry of Magic has done me wrong once, locking me up for twelve long years without trial, and I will not abide it again. Revoke the edict of the Dementor's Kiss on sight, give me the promise of the Wizengamot for a fair trial, and I will produce myself, as well as the rat Pettigrew.
"Send word through my Regent. Once the Wizengamot decides they are ready for justice to be done, I will come.
Signed,
Sirius Black
Head of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black."
Narcissa rolled up the parchment before her, her head down, and stepped down from the podium. There was a heavy silence for a long moment, before the chamber exploded into noise, everyone exclaiming and turning to their neighbor to discuss.
"—without a trial? How could he—"
"—the hell is Peter Pettigrew? This is outrageous—"
"It's entirely lies, obviously, he must have Dark magic to defeat a truth circle—"
"—best friends with the Potters, I knew it couldn't be him!"
"SILENCE!"
Dumbledore's powerful voice boomed through the room, and the chamber fell silent.
Hermione watched Dumbledore. His blue eyes were wide, his chest heaving slightly. His face had different emotions rippling across it, and Hermione wondered what he must be feeling right now. She watched as he took a moment to gather himself together and regain his poise before he raised his head, addressing Narcissa Malfoy.
"Regent of House Black, these are substantial claims," Dumbledore said. "Does your Head of House offer any evidence to convince the Wizengamot of their veracity?"
Hermione had to hide her grin.
"He does," Narcissa said quietly. "He bids you to call Harry Potter to the stand and testify."
Dumbledore reared back in shock.
"Call Harry Potter to the stand?" he repeated. He looked at her in shock. "You're sure?"
"There is a list of people he lists for the Wizengamot to examine first," Narcissa said, moving forward and handing Dumbledore a short list. "He asserts that their testimony will support his claims enough to give the court reasonable doubt of his alleged guilt in these matters."
"Harry Potter, Susan Bones, and Ronald Weasley?" Dumbledore said, incredulous. "These are all school children…"
"Sirius Black is said to have broken out of Azkaban to murder Harry Potter," Lucius Malfoy drawled. "Obviously, this is a trap so he might lure Potter out of safety and kill him once and for all."
"Are you daft?" Augusta Longbottom snapped. "The Wizengamot Chambers are a safe and secure place for Harry Potter. Only a fool would try and attempt a murder here."
"He expects us to believe the word of children?" Melker Travers sniffed. "This is a waste of our time—"
"It hurts no one to hear out a claim," Henry Macmillan retorted. "It is our duty to hear out this matter. And the Truth Circle holds fast for anyone – adults and children alike."
"Besides," Geraint Weasley chimed in. "I'm very curious to hear what testimony my little cousin might have on the matter."
Conversation grew, more people speaking out, and Dumbledore banged his gavel loudly, the hammer ringing out unnaturally to bring the chamber to silence.
"This is a very serious matter," he said gravely. He looked about. "We will vote on whether or not to conduct a preliminary investigation into these claims. If we vote 'yes', we will assemble Thursday eve, as we would for a full trial, and we will attempt to get to the truth of the matter. If we vote 'no', the current Ministry Edict of the Dementor's Kiss on sight will still stand."
Dumbledore looked back at Cornelius Fudge significantly, who had paled and not said a word since Narcissa Malfoy had spoken. He turned back to the room.
"Before we cast our votes, I urge you to consider what you would want if this happened to you," Dumbledore said quietly. "The Wizengamot is a powerful body people turn to for justice. If you were accused, and had no trial – guilty or not, would you at least want to be heard?"
"You're swaying the court," Lucius Malfoy snarled. "You're supposed to be neutral as the Chief Warlock."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Henry Macmillan snapped. "Like you're neutral, you great pig."
"Silence!" Dumbledore held up his hands. He clapped, and suddenly a paddle appeared on Hermione's podium. "We will vote. White to investigate the claims, black to let the current edict stand. Vote now."
Paddles immediately went up, some white, some black, and conversation broke out as people argued. Hermione felt vindicated to see Augusta Longbottom and her contingent immediately put their paddles up as white, Amelia Bones waving her white paddle around and loudly harassing the Ministry representatives to vote too. Across the way, Narcissa Malfoy quietly raised her own paddle as white, but she was surrounded by paddles of black – Lucius Malfoy, who wore a snarl, as well as Thoros Nott, Melker Travers, and Phaedra Lestrange. Other people Hermione vaguely recognized held up black as well – Millicent's father, Amycus Carrow, and the holder of the Flint seat. But almost as if in opposition, as they held up black, more paddles were held up white, all of the regional representatives declaring their votes, and Era Hornbeam gave Hermione a private grin from behind her own paddle.
"It'll at least be interesting, don't you think?" she said, winking. "Besides – Thursday evening trial means overtime pay for me."
Hermione suppressed a grin, holding up her own paddle as white. A few more paddles rose, and Dumbledore loudly banged his gavel, the sound booming throughout the room.
"By a vote of 37 to 12, it is decided," he intoned. "The Wizengamot will investigate the claims of injustice issued in the grievance filed by the House of Black."
Dumbledore looked shaken, but as Amelia Bones spoke up, discussing the logistics of getting school children to come and testify while maintaining the confidentiality of the Wizengamot, Hermione saw him sneak a Jammy Dodger out of his pocket, hopefully just enough to bolster him through to the end.
Discussion of the logistics for an evening trial and the legal paperwork to begin the process for calling off the Dementor's Kiss on sight went on for a while, and it was after dinner by the time Hermione and Dumbledore Floo'd back to Hogwarts, both of them drained. As Hermione stumbled out of the fireplace back into his office, she was wondering if she should try to get a snack from the Kitchens before bed, or if she should just go to her bed and immediately collapse.
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. "A word before you go?"
Hermione turned to look at him, blinking. Dumbledore regarded her steadily through his half-moon glasses.
"It does not escape my notice that both Harry Potter and Susan Bones are in your coven," he said.
Hermione did her best to keep her voice even. "They are."
Dumbledore sighed.
"Do you know anything about all of this?" he asked her directly.
Hermione bit her lip.
"I feel like to answer that honestly would taint your vote during the pre-trial," she admitted.
Dumbledore's eyes widened, and a faint smile touched his lips.
"As Chief Warlock, I do not have a vote," he reminded her. "But I do have influence over what questions are asked of the witnesses. I will probably be the one leading the questioning."
Hermione blinked.
"So… if you and I made a bargain, you could lead the questions in a way to make my coven not appear Dark or dangerous?" she asked.
Dumbledore's eyes sparkled. "Is your coven Dark and dangerous, Miss Granger?"
"No," Hermione said vehemently. "But that doesn't mean people won't think that. The word 'coven' has bad associations for many people."
"Fewer than you might think, especially in the Wizengamot," Dumbledore told her. "The Wizengamot is filled with old, traditional families. They are more likely to be quietly impressed or jealous. The common public is who you will have more of a challenge with."
Hermione hadn't realized that.
"Nevertheless, I can try to ask questions that portray your coven in a positive light," Dumbledore said, "if I know what sort of information might be forthcoming during the hearing."
Hermione bit her lip, considering. This hadn't been in the plan she'd made with the Malfoys, but if it worked to accomplish the same end goal – freeing Sirius Black – she didn't see why not. Plus, it would help get her on the Headmaster's good side, which wouldn't be a bad thing.
She took a deep breath.
"Before the holiday break," she began, "Harry overheard the story of how Sirius Black betrayed his parents. When he told us, we resolved to do a Blood Debt ritual to catch him…"
Hermione detailed the Blood Debt ritual they'd performed in January, how they'd been so methodical about the setup and casting, and as she explained how Ron's rat had been the one to appear inside their ritual circle, Dumbledore's eyes seemed to glow with an inner fire, a quiet fury she'd never seen before.
"Thank you, Miss Granger," he said, when her story was done. His eyes were hard, and his tone of voice sent ominous shivers down her spine. "We will see that justice is done."
When Hermione saw Dumbledore running the school all the time, it was easy to forget that Dumbledore was one of the most powerful wizards alive. Now, though - his eyes were a steely blue, all twinkling gone, and he seemed bigger, somehow more, as if his very presence in the room had grown. He no longer seemed like the doddering eccentric old man she was used tom, and in the old man's place was the grand wizard who had bested Grindelwald in single combat. Dumbledore's fury and anger were almost a palpable thing in the air of his office, like a haze of heat before a firestorm; a tension of crackling of raw magic, just waiting to be unleashed.
Hermione nodded to the Headmaster and quickly fled. She didn't envy Peter Pettigrew one bit.
