Monday, June 21st dawned bright and warm, and Hermione took careful care getting ready that morning. Blaise had warned her that the Wizengamot would sometimes take steps to ensure witnesses weren't under any spells as they testified, which meant her hair jinxes might fail in front of everyone. Hermione did the best she could with her hair, using her mother's conditioner liberally and doing her best to make it set into some semblance of a style. She wasn't good at doing things with her hair, and she hated doing so, but the last thing she wanted was her hair to look like a long-haired hedgehog that had been electrocuted and set on fire.
Especially if the press would be there.
She chose a royal blue robe that morning, figuring it'd be better to not emphasize her Slytherin House now. Her green robe had seen enough use recently, anyway. She clipped the monarch butterfly into her hair, sparing a moment to wonder if that jinx would fail and it would flutter around her in the middle of court, and she made sure she had her wand.
She examined herself critically in the mirror. She looked grown-up and determined, though rather pale. She sighed.
"Might as well get this over with, Granger," she muttered.
The mirror said nothing back, giving no helpful advice. It was a muggle mirror after all, she supposed.
Hermione went down the stairs to the fireplace. She'd agreed to meet Harry in the Leaky Cauldron and go from there to the Ministry together, as Harry had never been. An Incendio had a small fire crackling merrily in the fireplace, and with a handful of Floo powder, the flames turned an emerald green. Hermione stepped in, making sure there was no actual wood in the fireplace as she did; the last thing she wanted was an abandoned fire to keep burning in an empty house in the middle of the summer.
"The Leaky Cauldon!"
Hermione kept her elbows tucked tightly to her sides as she whirled through the Floo network, images of fireplaces dizzying her as they flashed by. She finally stumbled out into the Leaky Cauldon, fighting for her footing as her head spun.
"Hermione! I've got you, I've got you—"
Hermione glanced up to see Harry at her side, steadying her. He gave her a sheepish smile.
"Thanks," Hermione said, grateful. "Floo's better than Portkeys, but only just."
Harry grinned.
"Most wizarding travel seems fairly horrible," he said. "I thought I was going to die the entire time I was on the Knight Bus here, with it banging and cracking and twisting all over."
Hermione laughed, and Harry grinned back at her.
"We're both here early. Excellent," Hermione said, looking at her watch. "I was worried. Come on – we need to make a stop."
"Where are we going?" Harry asked curiously, as Hermione led them out the back door, tapping her wand on the bricks behind the rubbish bins.
"Madame Malkin's," Hermione told him. She examined his robes. "You've grown a bit, and your school robe is too short. Plus, we're going to court – you need something nicer to wear."
Harry sighed.
"Might as well," he conceded. "We'll have to get something with bigger pockets, too. This journal you owled me is a tight fit in my own."
Hermione carefully said nothing about that.
Madame Malkin opened at 8am, giving them an hour before they were due in the Ministry courtrooms. She was delighted to help Harry find a more adult robe in a formal style.
"This here, I would suggest," she said, offering him one. "It comes with a belt to wear, and the neckline has a very masculine V cut. The sleeves are flared a bit, as is the bottom, but it's still distinctly a men's robe to wear."
Harry made a face. "If you're sure."
As he went off to go try it on, Madame Malkin exchanged a commiserating look with Hermione.
"If they're not born wearing robes growing up, they always think they all look like dresses unless they can leave them open," she sighed. "And an exposed underrobe or trousers is decidedly not appropriate for court."
When Harry emerged, he looked surprised. The robe was a rich navy blue.
"I like this one," he said. He held his arms up, looking at the sleeves. "This is actually comfortable. I don't feel like I'm going to trip."
Madame Malkin tutted. "You should never feel like you're going to trip in your robes. Those school uniform designs…"
Harry was happy to buy the robe and walk out of the store in it, his old robes stuffed into his left pocket and the diary tucked into the right. Harry had been smug to hear that men's robes typically came with expansion charms on the pockets, while Hermione had just been amused.
"The Ministry, next," Hermione said, biting her lip. "Back to the Leaky, I suppose…"
The Floo took them to the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, and Harry was gawking as soon as they stepped out. Wizards and witches bustled about, appearing from fireplaces all around them, and they had to hurry to step out of the way lest they get run over.
"This is mad," he breathed. "I didn't know there were this many people in the Ministry!"
Hermione shrugged helplessly. "I don't really know how many wizarding people there are, full stop."
While Harry was looking around, craning his head, Hermione was examining the large golden fountain before her in the center of the Atrium, which she'd never been up close to in person.
There was a very noble-looking wizard pointing his wand straight up in the air. Around him was a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house elf, the latter three of which were looking up at the witch and wizard adoringly.
Harry snorted. "Think the centaurs might have a problem with this?"
"I have a problem with this," Hermione sniffed. "Setting aside the grotesque racism for goblins, House Elves, and centaurs, it's sexist, too. The woman's not an equal focal point as the man. They've set her as higher than the other three, but still below the wizard."
Harry laughed.
"You'll have to make them get a new statue, then," he said, grinning. "C'mon. Let's go."
They made their way to the security booth, where a bored-looking wizard glanced at them.
"Wands, please," he asked.
Hermione and Harry handed over their wands, where the wizard weighed them on some sort of intricate scale.
"Name and purpose today?"
"Hermione Granger," Hermione said. "Um. Witness in a trial?"
"Harry Potter," Harry said. "Err, same reason for me."
The wizard pushed a few buttons on another odd device, and there was a horrible rattling sound before two small pieces of metal were spat out. The wizard handed one to each of them.
"Please take your badge and attach it to the front of your robes," the man recited. Hermione took a moment to examine hers. It was a square silver badge, reading:
Hermione Granger
Trial Witness
She pinned the badge to the front of her robes.
"Enjoy your day at the Ministry of Magic," the wizard droned, handing them back their wands, "and have a pleasant day."
Hermione and Harry wound their way through the Ministry to the elevators.
"Do you know where we're going?" Harry asked.
"I got instructions from Millie," Hermione said. "We're to go down to Level 9 and wait for our attendant. We have to go past the Department of Mysteries to get to the Wizengamot Hearing rooms, and they won't want us just wandering around."
The lift was crowded and miserable, and it seemed to jump from floor to floor completely out of order. When they finally reached "Level 9 – Department of Mysteries" with a pleasant ding, both Hermione and Harry were relieved to escape the lift.
The Department of Mysteries bore a striking difference to the Atrium. The walls were black-tiled and bare, with no windows and no doors save a plain black one at the far end of the corridor. There were some torches littering the walls, but the entire area felt ominous and eerie. Hermione wondered just what the Department of Mysteries was responsible for.
"Oh, good, you're here!"
A frazzled-looking aide came hurrying up to them. He, too, wore a badge.
Killian Harper
Assistant to the Wand of the Realm
"Come now, come now," he said, looking incredibly stressed. "The Wand will want to talk to you about your testimony before the trial."
"It's just past 8:30am!" Harry objected. "If we were supposed to be here earlier, why weren't we told so?"
Killian shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Too late now. Come on, we have to hurry."
The aide led them down a flight of stairs from Level Nine to Level Ten. This level had rough stone walls, and the doors here were heavy and made of wood, with large iron bolts and keyholes.
"We're in Courtroom Four," he said. "You'll be on the Wand's side – here…"
He tapped a stone with his wand in a quick pattern, and a plain wooden door materialized on the wall. He pushed it open, ushering them inside.
"Come on, come on, I have to go and check something else—"
Hermione and Harry were let into what looked like a doctor's office waiting room. The walls were cream, it had bright lighting, and it had furniture scattered around. There was a painting on one of the walls of a mermaid singing to some birds. As she looked around, Hermione noticed one wall was completely empty save a heavy wooden door, and if she squinted, she could realize she could see through the wall.
"Clever, isn't it?"
Hermione whirled around to see smart-looking woman standing there, looking amused. She wore heavy rimmed glasses and had short blonde hair, and her robes were cut in such a way at the neck it almost looked like a muggle suit, albeit one made of black velvet with gold brocade.
"It's so witnesses can watch the trial," the woman said, nodding at the wall. "It'll be a clearer picture, once the trial starts. The Wizengamot is all still filing in right now."
"I'm sorry if I should know this already," Harry said, "but who are you?"
The woman raised an eyebrow.
"My name is Alexandra Jones," she said, giving them a short bow. "I serve as the Wand of the Realm."
"My name is Hermione Granger," Hermione said, giving her a short curtsy. "Please allow me introduce my companion, Harry Potter."
Hermione gestured to Harry, who looked confused. Alexandra looked amused.
"I'm Muggle-born, Hermione," she informed her. "You needn't stand on stuffy decorum with me."
That was a surprise to Hermione, though a pleasant one.
"Are you really?" she asked. "And you managed to become the Wand?"
"I went to muggle law school after Hogwarts," Alexandra said, raising an eyebrow. "It's helped me gain an edge over others, and when the last Wand retired, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement didn't hesitate to nominate me."
Hermione beamed.
"That's great!" she exclaimed. "Honestly, I'm really worried about my professional career opportunities – it seems like pureblood prejudice kind of infiltrates everything, doesn't it? It's great to see that you've made it so high."
Alexandra laughed.
"You will find, Hermione," she said, adjusting her glasses, "that even old-minded traditionalists find it difficult to stand in the way of a woman who really knows what she wants."
"So you're the 'wand'?" Harry asked. "What does that mean?"
"I'm essentially the Attorney General to the Crown, but the magical version," she explained. "The title is 'Wand of the Realm'. I'll serve as the prosecution in the trial today."
"Is there a barrister for the defendant?" Hermione inquired, and Alexandra looked to Hermione in brief surprise.
"There is," she said, her eyes darkening, "and he's a sneaky bastard if I've ever seen one. Ulfric Karlsson. He's good – but I'm better."
Abruptly, her eyes seemed to clear, and she refocused on them.
"For your testimony, you are going to be asked to recount the story of when you caught Rhamnaceae Rookwood as the Heir of Slytherin," she informed them. "You will be in a Truth Circle, so be prepared for that; you won't be compelled to spill out your guts – that'd be a major invasion of privacy – but you won't be able to lie." She adjusted her glasses. "The Defense will try to poke holes in your story, but so long as you're certain as to what you saw and did, you two should do fine."
There was movement on the other side of the faint wall; more and more people were filling up what looked like a small amphitheater.
"You'll be able to see and hear everything going on inside," Alexandra assured them. Whenever you're called for, just come out. After you're done giving testimony, you'll be expected to stay in the courtroom, on the bench just behind me, in case you're recalled for later testimony. Got it?"
Hermione and Harry nodded, and Alexandra gave them a vicious grin.
"Trial of the year, this," she said. "Let's go get them."
She strode powerfully through the wooden door, Hermione watching her emerge on the other side through the hazy wall. More and more people were arriving, also in heavy velvet robes, and Hermione watched them climb up into their seats.
"Do you think they'll have you go first?" Harry asked. "Or me?"
Hermione considered.
"You, probably," she guessed. "They'll want you to establish that we heard her hissing at the wall, and then they'll want me to connect her to the Heir of Slytherin, I suspect."
Harry gave Hermione a worried look.
"Do you have a game plan here?" he said. "Are we doing the right thing?"
Hermione took Harry's hand, squeezing it. Harry looked down at it in surprise, before his eyes flew up to meet hers.
"I'll take care of that part, Harry," she assured him. She smiled. "You just share your part of the story, and leave the rest to me."
Harry gave her a soft smile. "If you say so, Hermione."
Soon, there was loud banging, and Hermione and Harry both sat down, watching through the blank wall, which grew much clearer. A familiar voice was booming for everyone to take their seats.
"Is that Dumbledore?" Harry said, surprised. "Is he here?"
"He's Chief Warlock for the Wizengamot," Hermione said. "I think that means he's like the judge?"
After everyone settled, the trial began.
Hermione was surprised by how much the format of the trial followed what she was accustomed to seeing of trials on the telly. The Wand of the Realm made a grand opening statement, denouncing Rhamnaceae Rookwood as the Heir of Slytherin, enemy to all and general all-around evil person who had risked the lives of all the students at Hogwarts. The Defense's opening statement denied the charges, insisting Rhamnaceae would never do such a thing, and that she had been under the influence of mental possession the entire time. It was an interesting defense, and purely a magical one, which Hermione found intriguing – was it similar to pleading insanity in a muggle court?
Harry was called as the first witness, and he shot Hermione an anxious look as he stood. Hermione gave him a reassuring smile, and Harry nodded, determined, before entering the courtroom through the door.
Someone helped Harry take his seat on a high stool in a heavy wooden sort of boxed-in podium, what Hermione figured must be the equivalent of a witness stand. She watched as Harry squirmed around, settling himself on the high seat.
"If you could say your name for the court?" Alexandra bid.
"My name is Harry James Potter," Harry said, glancing around. There was a murmur at his words.
"Mr. Potter, when did you first meet the accused, Rhamnaceae Rookwood?" she asked.
"Umm, I don't think I've ever met her properly?" Harry ventured. "But I first really encountered her on April 14th."
"Now, Mr. Potter, as best you remember it," Alexandra said, "can you tell us of the events of April 14th?"
"Err…" Harry said, glancing around. "Sure? Hermione met me outside class before lunch – Transfiguration, I think? – and we went down to lunch together. On the way, we passed her—" Here, Harry gestured to someone Hermione could not see "—near the bathroom that had the passage to the Chamber of Secrets. She was hissing at the wall, trying to call the basilisk."
"Objection!" the Defense called out, and there was a loud bang. "That's speculation!"
"Objection!" The Wand slammed her own hand on her desk. "Mr. Potter is a Parselmouth. He was able to understand what he heard being hissed."
"Objection overruled," came Dumbledore's voice. "Mr. Potter is, indeed, a Parselmouth. Please continue, Mr. Potter."
"Um, sure," said Harry. "So we heard her hissing in the hallway. Hermione accused her of hissing at the wall, and Rookwood denied it, so I spoke to her in Parseltongue, insisting she respond back in Parseltongue, which she did. We argued, and then she started cursing us."
"When you say you argued," Alexandra said, "what did you argue about?"
"Err, I think about speaking Parseltongue itself?" Harry said, scrunching his face up as he tried to remember. "But when she started blasting us with curses, that seemed pretty straight-forward, so Hermione and I tried to chase her down. We chased her into a room in the dungeons – there was a bunch of weird ritual stuff set up, and like a big thing of blood – and we were trying to pin her down and stop her when a bunch of teachers arrived."
"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Alexandra said. "Now, when you found her, you say she was trying to summon the basilisk. What makes you say this?"
"Well, I knew Hermione had slain the basilisk the previous night," Harry said, glancing at Hermione through the blank wall. "And I knew the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was in the bathroom she was hissing around. And I could hear her and understand what she was saying."
"And based on this information, you concluded she was the Heir of Slytherin?"
"I didn't really conclude anything," Harry said, "but I suspected. Why else would she be hissing around there?"
"Thank you, Mr. Potter." Alexandra took a seat, shooting a look at someone Hermione couldn't see. "Your witness."
"Thank you." A smooth, lightly accented voice took the stage. "Now, Mr. Potter, you say you were not well acquainted with Miss Rookwood?"
"That's right," Harry said. "She's a couple years older than me, and in a different house."
"So the first time you encountered her was that day?"
"Yes," Harry said defensively. "I already said that."
"So, Mr. Potter, given you do not know Miss Rookwood…" A blond man came into view, wearing his yellow blond hair in a smart ponytail over his black velvet robes. "…would you say you would be unable to determine if she was acting unlike herself?"
"Objection!" Alexandra slammed her hand down on her desk. "Calls for speculation!"
"Speculation on the part of his own mind?" Ulfric held his arms open, sardonically. "Is that really speculation, or just Mr. Potter's own thoughts?"
"The witness will answer the question," Dumbledore said from above.
Ulfric turned back to Harry triumphantly. Harry looked lost.
"Err, what am I answering?" he asked.
Ulfric sighed.
"Do you think you would be able to know if Miss Rookwood were acting unlike herself?"
"No," Harry said. "I do not."
Ulfric smirked.
"Now, you say you heard her speak Parseltongue, correct?" he continued.
"Yes," Harry said.
"And what did she say?"
"She said, 'Here, snakey snakey'," Harry hissed. Hermione noted he'd put his hand into his pocket, and his switch from English to Parseltongue was smooth. Hermione suppressed a smile – "here, snakey snakey" had been exactly what Blaise had been hissing in the hallway, making it hard for them not to laugh right from the start.
Ulfric looked thrown for a moment.
"Very good," he said. "And what would that be in English?"
"Um," Harry said. "There's not really a direct translation from Parseltongue, but she was calling for the basilisk. Or for a snake, at any rate."
Ulfric looked satisfied, but Hermione hadn't the slightest idea as to why.
"No further questions," the Defense said smugly, striding back to his seat.
"You may stand down, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said from above. "Please take your seat."
Hermione watched as Harry stood up, leaving the little box he'd been sitting in to go somewhere Hermione couldn't quite see. She stood up herself, nervously brushing off her robes, straightening the folds. She was going to be next, she knew. She was next.
"The Wand calls Hermione Granger to the stand," Alexandra said, her voice loud and clear.
Swallowing her nerves, Hermione stood, opened the door, and entered the courtroom.