Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
Alright, so be a little lenient on the courtroom proceedings. I am not a lawyer or anything of the sort. Also, if anything seems overly strange chalk it up to wizarding whimsy. Again, I hope you all enjoy it. I look forward to hearing your impressions as always. If you guys have guesses or ideas about Marvolo's gift for Harry and Harry's gift for Marvolo, I'd also be interested. I have an idea of what Harry will do for the birthday but suggestions are always helpful.
The next chapter is actually almost done, hopefully, posted next weekend. It will consist of another Death meeting and Bellatrix's duel. I'm just trying to make the duel impressive enough, you know?
Enjoy!
All Rise
Harry focused on taking deep breaths.
He didn't focus on the loud chatter that echoed within the vaulted ceilings of the courtroom. He didn't focus on the two chairs in the center of the room with chains attached to the arms. He didn't focus on how tight his chest felt at the sight. He ignored the stadium seating of the Wizengamot members, all dressed in plum-colored robes. He didn't focus on the extra stage protruding from the stadium seating, holding the four chairs of the case's preceding individuals. He didn't think about how grateful he was for being kept in a separate section from everyone else so he wouldn't have to deal with people sitting next to him — pressing against him.
Harry only focused on his breathing, taking one breath after the next.
Most of all, Harry just kept reminding himself that he wasn't the one on trial. He was just a witness, the victim. No matter the outcome, once this whole nightmare of a day was over, he would be returning home to Slytherin Manor, where Marvolo would be waiting for him.
Dumbledore sat directly across from him on the other side of the courtroom in the defendant's witness section. The man had dressed in midnight blue robes with glittering stars. Harry could picture him with a stereotypical muggle wizard's hat and thought the Headmaster fit the caricature well. Dumbledore hadn't even bothered to glance at him. Instead, the man calmly sat, observing the courtroom as everyone found their seats. This room wasn't too different from the one Harry had been tried in just over a year ago. Except for this time, there were far more people. The guest seating was standing room only, and the front row was filled with reporters. Rita Skeeter winked at him, and Harry felt nauseous.
He really didn't want to be here. He wanted justice to be served, but he really didn't want to think about that week during the summer. Didn't want to think about how drastically his life changed because of the actions of that week. Harry was doing so much now; he didn't want to think of the past. He could still feel his nerves twisting tighter in his stomach.
Marvolo had assured him that he wouldn't come off as weak. If anything, Harry would gain approval ratings out of sympathy alone. Harry had ranted at Marvolo for an hour about how much he hated pity and sympathy and just wanted people to approve of him for the things he wanted to do. Marvolo had told him to accept whatever approval he received no matter how he got it to turn his ideas into reality. Harry had gone flying until dinner after that.
"All rise," a large wizard declared from the side door. The room fell silent as everyone stood. The wizard opened a scroll and proceeded to read off of it. "Presiding over the trial of Harry Potter v. Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt is the Honorable Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, the Honorable Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones, the Honorable Interim Chief Witch Augusta Longbottom, and the Honorable Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour."
The four people announced strode into the room and claimed their seats on the protruding stage, all dressed in stiff black robes. Augusta had been voted in as Interim Chief Witch just an hour ago. It was believed that waiting until the morning of the trial would prevent corruption. Harry didn't think waiting until the last minute helped much of anything since everything had been decided days ago over fancy dinners and persuasive lunches.
Once the four people sat down, the rest of the courtroom did the same. Harry tried not to fidget on his uncomfortable wooden bench.
"Bring in the accused," the wizard bellowed again.
The side door opened once again, and four red-robed Aurors escorted Shacklebolt and Moody into the room. The Aurors guided the accused to the two chairs sitting in the middle of the open floor and adjusted the chains to only encircle their wrists, leaving their legs free. Moody and Kingsley did not look good, even though they were held in the holding cells attached to the Auror Office and not Azkaban. Kingsley, in particular, looked haggard, ashen, and drawn. Moody had lost a significant amount of weight, and his scars and injuries looked more prominent because of it. Moody's magical eye had been removed, leaving just a grotesque indented hole in the man's face.
The Aurors moved to the walls of the room, joining the six other Aurors who had already been standing at attention. Fudge shot off three bangs from his wand to bring attention towards him. "Commencing the trial of Harry Potter v. Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt. The accusations are the use of multiple administrations of the Cruciatous Curse, torture and kidnapping of a minor, and attempted murder with the Inheritance Binding Curse. The sentence is two lifetimes in Azkaban. Upon honest cooperation, Veritaserum will not be administered. Now, how do the accused plead?"
"Not guilty," Moody growled.
"Not guilty," Kingsley repeated, his voice far quieter.
Harry dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands to keep himself from reacting. He had expected this, it was doubtful that either man would admit to wrongdoing right at the start, but it still frustrated Harry to no end. They knew what they did! How could they think they weren't guilty!
"The interrogation will commence then," Fudge said and shot another bang with his wand. "Department Head of Magical Law Enforcement Bones, you have the floor first."
"Thank you, Minister," Amelia said. Her monocle reflected the courtroom lighting, and Harry couldn't see her eye because of it. "I call upon the prosecuting witness, Lord Potter," she said, turning to look at Harry. Harry sat a little straighter, feeling every eye on him. Moody glared at him with his single eye, and Shacklebolt stared at him with dead eyes. "Can you please explain your version of the events taking place during the first week of August 1996? Please be as thorough and detailed as you can."
Harry nodded stiffly and forced his legs to stand. During their preparation for the trial, Amelia had explained that detailing everything would have a more lasting impact on the court jury. It didn't mean he liked it any better.
Locking his knees to stop them from shaking, Harry took a breath and began to speak. He made sure his voice remained steady, and he stared directly at the Wizengamot and the presiding members. He refused to look at Dumbledore, Moody, or Shacklebolt. He refused to play up the timid victim role. Avery and Malfoy had tried suggesting it the other day over dinner, and Harry had quickly shut that down. Marvolo had supported his idea of not looking purposefully weak.
"The day after my sixteenth birthday, the first of August, I woke up and immediately realized that I felt better than I had all summer. I learned later it was because I had received my Inheritance. Shortly after waking, my Uncle and I got into an altercation. The events are still unclear for me since I didn't really know what was happening. However, what I do know is that my Uncle died, and people showed up at my house and stunned me. The only identifier I can recall from the ones who stunned me was the sound of a peg leg on the stairs."
Harry paused for a moment and saw many people look at Moody's stump of a leg. The peg leg — classified as a potential weapon — had been removed upon his arrest.
"When I awoke, I was in a dark room and tied to a chair. The door to the room opened, and with the light that arrived, I could see Moody, Shacklebolt, Dumbledore, and a woman. I learned later she was Hestia Jones. I begged for answers. Still tied to a chair in the basement of a house, behind bars, and only dressed in my boxers—" Harry strove not to flush at announcing that, but he had to be detailed and paint the proper picture "— Dumbledore told me I was Dark and that they would fix me. I tried explaining that I had no idea what was happening and again begged for answers."
Harry closed his eyes again and took a breath. This time the breath was to control the rising anger. It still infuriated him how Dumbledore had sought to 'fix him,' like being Dark was a malady that he had chosen or a disease that could be cured.
"I don't remember the words that were said, but the four started chanting, and this yellow light started to come from their wands. I panicked. I still didn't know what was happening. I know now that my Inheritance reacted and reached out for the four of them. It got Jones and hit Shacklebolt. Moody and Dumbledore weren't touched. Jones died. Moody accused me of being a demon. And then the Cruciatous started." Harry tightened his grip on the railing surrounding his witness booth. "A few times, each day that I was trapped, Shacklebolt or Moody would come down and curse me. I lost count of how many times. Eventually, I was freed. I learned after I was freed that it was the seventh of August, so I had been trapped and cursed for a full week."
Silence fell. Licking his lips, Harry refrained from tugging at his hair.
Amelia gave him a nod. "Thank you, Lord Potter."
Harry gave a quick nod and sat down as quickly as he could. He felt lightheaded now that he was done talking. He was also very thirsty. He wished he could have water, but he wasn't allowed anything to prevent potentially hazardous potions from being slipped to the accuser.
"Moody and Shacklebolt, the prosecuting witness has been very clear in their accounts of events. What have you to say in defense?"
"The boy lies!" Moody shouted. "The Dark corrupted his mind. You can't believe a word that comes out of his mouth. The boy just admitted to killing his uncle and Hestia. And, King here has been near death since that day. He should be on trial!"
Harry looked back at Shacklebolt. Admittedly, he hadn't really looked at the man well when he was trapped but if what Moody said was true then it seemed Shacklebolt had still been affected by being hit with Necromancer magic, even if the result wasn't as immediate as the others.
"Lord Potter is protected under the Governance Rules of 1506," Augusta chimed in.
"Lord Potter's actions are not the ones under question during this trial," Amelia continued. "The question is, Alastor, what do you say in response to this story. What is your version of events?"
"Dumbledore and I got notified that Dark Magic was happening at Potter's place," Moody said. "We went to protect him. We thought Death Eaters might be attacking the boy. We found the boy killing his Uncle and laughing about it. Damn hysterical he was. He was about to lunge at his cousin next when I stunned him. Thought he might be possessed by Voldemort."
Harry clenched his fists tighter and tried not to react, though he did stare at Moody now. Lies! He wished they had been given Veritaserum, but it wasn't procedure unless the defendant requested it or was unruly in court. Beneath his skin, Harry could feel his magic building. He fought off the tempting pull to sink beneath the feeling of detachment that the icy fire provided. His breath came out in soft pants as he fought against his Inheritance. He couldn't afford to unleash that right now. It would do him no favors and would scare the public; he had just gone through the press conference to convince people that being Dark didn't equate him to being a killer. Losing it now would ruin everything.
"It's true we took him and restrained him to the chair. As I said, we thought he was possessed. It's happened before. Last June, Voldemort tried possessing the boy." There were a few gasps from the jury and the audience. Harry felt his face heating up; he couldn't feel his fingers by this point. "Well, then we saw his mark. Necromancer he is, the Darkest of the Dark. The real Harry, the boy from before the summer, would have asked us to fix him. Wouldn't have wanted to be connected with anything Dark. It's true; we tried to Bind him, but only to help him. He'd have been strong enough to survive it for a bit afterward to properly defeat Voldemort anyway. Potter isn't in his right mind now. He's been warped by Dark Magic. The Potter of last year would have begged us to Bind him. Then he went and killed Hestia, tried to kill us too, and almost got King. So we retaliated. We got him good with the Cruciatus. Had to weaken him to try Binding him again. Couldn't risk a filthy Necromancer getting loose."
Harry's ears buzzed with the ringing silence that met Moody's words.
"So, you admit to using the Cruciatus and attempting the Inheritance Binding and kidnapping," Fudge repeated slowly. "So why do you proclaim you aren't guilty."
"Because the boy is Dark. He deserves it," Moody said viciously. "He should be grateful for us trying to cure him."
Murmuring erupted amongst the Wizengamot members and the audience. Harry couldn't tell if the murmurings were in his favor or not.
"If I may," Dumbledore said calmly, standing in his own witness booth. His calm tone and the motion of standing caught the attention of the rest of the court.
"Dumbledore, the need for the defendant's witness has not been called upon yet," Fudge said. "Sit down."
"Now, now," Scrimgeour said quietly, putting a hand against Fudge's arm. Scrimgeour's long mane of hair was pulled tight to the nape of his neck, so tight it stretched the sides of his face. "The defendants admitted to their guilt. There is no harm in allowing their witness to put forth more evidence."
Dumbledore looked grave as he peered down his crooked nose to his hands folded in front of his sparkling robes. "I believe the charges are not adequate for this case."
"What do you mean, Dumbledore?" Amelia asked after shooting off bangs from her wand to get the courtroom quiet again.
"What I mean is that the charges of kidnapping and torturing a minor should be dropped. Lord Potter-Black-Peverell has been quite clear in the past to say that he became magically emancipated at the time of his Inheritance. These events took place after he became magically emancipated. Hence, he was no longer a minor."
"Fine," Fudge huffed with a roll of his eyes. "The charges of kidnapping and torturing a minor are dropped. However, the accused have already admitted to casting Unforgiveables and trying for an Inheritance Binding. Those are the charges that result in them being in Azkaban for life."
"They have also implicated you as well, Albus," Scrimgeour pointed out. "We should be holding a trial for you for these events as well."
"I have never cast an Unforgivable," Dumbledore said confidently. "I did not partake in these sessions with Alastor or Kingsley. However, I am troubled by their choice of actions. I was busy researching how to free Harry from his Dark curse."
Harry sneered. He wasn't cursed! Being Dark wasn't terrible and life-changing. He clenched his jaw so tight his teeth ached. Getting in a screaming match with Dumbledore would do him no favors.
"As for the use of the Unforgivables, is it not allowed for Aurors to use such means when facing off against Dark Wizards, Amelia?" Dumbledore continued.
Amelia frowned. "It is authorized for Aurors to use extreme force when fighting Death Eaters, not Dark Wizards. Emphasis on the word fighting them. Lord Potter and the accused have all confirmed that Lord Potter was tied to a chair for days. He was hardly in a state to fight. And the use of extreme force never included the Unforgivables. As Aurors, it is our job to capture and contain an assailant as quickly as possible for them to face a trial and subsequent punishment. The Unforgivables go against these main objectives."
The courtroom erupted into whispered chattering again. Dumbledore frowned lightly at Amelia. Harry scowled at Dumbledore.
"Of course, I'm sure that being Aurors themselves, they merely misunderstood the exact boundary of that ordinance. They are admirable fighters against the Dark and were determined to rid the world of the newest Dark threat. They shouldn't be tried so harshly."
"They were not acting on orders from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Amelia countered, frowning heavily. Her monocle glinted, and her lips were pressed in a tight line. "During these events, they acted in the capacity of civilians, who have no authorized liberties of any kind. And even if they were acting as Aurors, it doesn't matter the assailants' magical affiliation. The actions used are equal against all. Torture of any kind is not permitted. Former Aurors Moody and Shacklebolt used the Cruciatus Curse. They admitted to it. No slimy words of yours will get them out of that charge."
Dumbledore didn't look overly perturbed; he remained calm and looked like a disapproving grandfather, but he remained standing, and so Harry doubted the man was finished.
"Now, the next charge to focus on is the Inheritance Binding one," Augusta continued tightly. "It is known that to use the spell results in the death of the bound witch or wizard. What is the justification for attempting Lord Potters' murder?"
"Again, I must protest this charge," Dumbledore continued and rushed to continue before anyone could silence him. "Lord Potter-Black-Peverell just provided his testimony and has admitted that he could not hear the words spoken, only witnessing a yellow light. Numerous spells could emit yellow light, most perfectly safe and harmless. There is no evidence that the curse was a Binding one."
Harry felt cold. No. No, this couldn't be happening. He had tried to be honest in his testimony, and he had wanted to say it was the Binding spell but he worried that if they tried to make him repeat the words, he would be caught in the lie because he didn't actually know the words. Oh, he should have studied the spell before the trial. Why hadn't he!
"Scribe," Fudge shouted. From the corner of the Wizengamot platform, Percy Weasley scurried forward. Harry hadn't even noticed the red-haired man earlier. Percy carried the long parchment recording the trial and laid it out on the long podium stretching across the four judges' seats. The four presiding officials bent over the parchment, reviewing Harry's testimony. "It seems, Dumbledore," Fudge began bitterly, "that you are correct. Lord Potter only mentioned a yellow light, unrecognizable chanting, and there being four people."
"Though that in and of itself alludes to the Inheritance Binding spells," Augusta protested.
"But there is not enough evidence," Scrimgeour admitted with a frown.
There was a small cough, and the entire courtroom returned their attention to Percy Weasley again. If he seemed nervous under the focus of so many people, he didn't show it. Instead, Percy was putting the parchment of the trial back in front of the presiding officials and lightly tapping another section with his quill, innocently averting his eyes from the parchment and the judges. Harry could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Was Percy about to help him or Dumbledore? What else had he said? Were all charges about to be dropped? Was he about to be charged instead? His panic rose; his hold on his magic was slipping.
Fudge grinned and looked back up at Dumbledore, who still stood in the witness booth looking incredibly relaxed. "It is true that Lord Potter only admitted to witnessing a yellow light and four people chanting. However, the accused, Alastor Moody, fully admitted to wishing to Bind Lord Potter's Inheritance in an attempt to—" Fudge looked back at the parchment and squinted "— 'help him'. So by the accused's own admission, the charge remains."
Harry almost sagged in relief. He really wasn't sure he could stand right now if they asked him to speak again, given how shaky he felt. Dumbledore looked furious and looked at Moody coldly, but almost immediately, he was calm and relaxed once again and simply nodded his head in acceptance, and sat back down on his bench. Percy scurried back to his Scribe seat, his neck a burning red.
"Now, back to our original question," Amelia said, continuing the trial. "Accused, what is the justification for attempting Lord Potters' murder with the Inheritance Binding spell?"
"Wasn't trying to kill him," Moody muttered. "We still need him, see? He needs to defeat Voldemort and can't do that if he's dead. Just needed to get the Darkness out of him. He'd have died after he killed Voldemort."
Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose and Harry wondered at what she was thinking. This trial must be difficult for her. Both men were her colleagues — her trusted friends— before all of this. "So you admit that Lord Potter would have died from the Binding but just not immediately."
Moody nodded. "As I said, we weren't trying to kill him. Still need him."
Harry felt sick. He stared at the floor, unable to even try to appear unaffected. He had trusted these people. He had trusted them. And here Moody was talking about using him, fully anticipating his death so long as he did his job first.
"Whose idea was it to use the Binding?" Augusta asked. Harry looked up at this, but he didn't look at Moody or Shacklebolt. Instead, he looked at Dumbledore, who was now focusing intently on Moody.
There was a pause. "Mine," Moody said gruffly. Shacklebolt twitched but didn't speak. Harry watched. Dumbledore had yet to blink as he stared at Moody. But he sat too far away to see if Dumbledore was saying anything, the long beard blocking his view.
"Yours?" Augusta repeated.
"Aye," Moody said. "I've dedicated my life to hunting Dark Wizards. I know how to defeat them."
"Dumbledore, as a witness, do you agree with this statement?" Scrimgeour asked.
Dumbledore stood once again. "I'm afraid I do. When I discovered that young Harry was indeed a Necromancer, I immediately began searching for ways to help him. When my dear friend Alastor approached me with the method of Binding, I began looking into it. I will admit that I felt hesitant to use such methods, but I decided to trust my old friend. I wasn't aware that it was an illegal spell. If I had only known —" Dumbledore sighed remorsefully "—if I had only known, I would have prevented the entire thing."
Scrimgeour shifted, looking uncomfortable. "Technically, it isn't an illegal spell but the results are almost always death, which makes the results illegal."
"Well, if it isn't illegal and young Harry is very obviously alive, why are they being charged?" Dumbledore asked innocently. There was a murmur from the crowd.
"Attempted murder is the charge," Amelia reiterated.
"And Alastor has admitted that he had no wish to kill young Harry, merely help him. The method was questionable, I will admit to that, and I should have researched it more thoroughly before agreeing to my friend's suggestion, but his intentions were from a good place."
"Intentions are not what is on trial," Amelia said, shaking her head. "Intentional or not, the Binding spell is known to result in the death of the recipient. This is known, and I find it hard to believe a man of your esteem was simply unaware."
"But unintentional murder would be classified as Involuntary Manslaughter," Scrimgeour said, his tone thoughtful, and he tapped his chin. "This would change the sentence to ten years in Azkaban instead of a lifetime." Amelia pursed her lips but did nod in agreement. "And since no death actually occurred," Scrimgeour continued. "Then really, the most they should be sentenced with is a fine."
Harry felt his stomach drop. This couldn't be happening. Only a fine!
Fudge grumbled. "I suppose that is true. Fine, the attempted murder charge has been dropped and replaced with attempted involuntary manslaughter with the sentence of a ten thousand galleon fine?"
Amelia frowned. "I suppose so. However, Dumbledore, as a participant in this spell, will also need to be fined."
"Ten thousand seems rather steep," someone that Harry couldn't identify in the jury shouted.
Amelia twisted to look at the jury behind her, obviously trying to identify the speaker. Finally, she turned back around. "The sentence will either be ten thousand galleons or a cell in Azkaban." She paused, waiting for a protest. None came. "Alright then, the fine will be the sentence."
Dumbledore gave a slight dip of his head. "Of course. I will gladly compensate young Harry for my error in judgment."
Harry grit his teeth. He didn't want Dumbledore's damn money. He wanted him gone from his life completely.
"Alright, are there any other questions or charges?" Augusta asked.
"None," Amelia said, glancing at the parchments in front of her.
"Kingsley Shacklebolt, do you have any words to say in your defense?" Scrimgeour asked. Shacklebolt was leaning heavily against the chair, hunched over the arm. The man gave a weak shake of his head. "Very well."
"Then let us take this to a vote," Augusta said. "The original charges were the use of multiple administrations of the Cruciatous Curse, torture and kidnapping of a minor, and attempted murder through the use of the Inheritance Binding Curse. The sentence was two lifetimes in Azkaban. The charges are now the use of multiple administrations of the Cruciatus Curse with the sentence of a lifetime in Azkaban and attempted involuntary manslaughter with the fine of ten thousand galleons." Augusta paused and looked at her other presiding members and the Wizengamot jury as if waiting for a rebuttal. When none came, she continued. "Now, on the charge of using the Cruciatus Curse and a life sentence in Azkaban; those in favor of conviction? Remember, the accused have already admitted to doing so."
Harry watched as every member of the Wizengamot raised their hands, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
"The court finds Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt guilty of multiple uses of the Cruciatus Curse," Fudge said and shot another bang from his wand.
"Next charge," Amelia said. "For the charge of attempted involuntary manslaughter and a fine of ten thousand galleons, those in favor? This will include the defendant witness, Albus Dumbledore."
This time the hands were raised, but slower, and not everyone on the jury did. Still, it was more than half; just under three-quarters of the Wizengamot members raised their hands.
Fudge sent another bang from his wand. "The court finds Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt guilty of attempted involuntary manslaughter. The court also finds the witness defendant, Albus Dumbledore, guilty of this charge. The three must pay ten thousand galleons to Lord Potter-Black-Peverell. Aurors, please escort the accused to Azkaban."
The same four Aurors stepped forward. They unchained Moody and Shacklebolt from the chairs in the middle of the court and guided the two wizards out of the room. The two former Aurors' departure was followed by the cacophonous sounds from everyone in the court now talking and discussing the trial. Harry remained seated on the bench in his prosecutor booth.
Dumbledore swept out of his booth and began merrily chatting with people. A few of the people who had voted against the involuntary manslaughter charge swarmed him.
Once he felt that he had a decent reign on his emotions, Harry stood and left his booth. Once he did, multiple people came to speak with him. He recognized Marvolo's followers, his Faction members, Augusta, Sylvia, Lady Pyrites, Fudge, and Lord Gibbon. If asked later, Harry wouldn't be able to say what any of them actually said. The main feeling was of support and approval of the sentencing. Harry just nodded, shook hands, and thanked them. He vaguely heard Evangeline commenting on how he would be hosting a Neutral Faction Yule Ball and for everyone to expect invitations in the coming weeks. Harry didn't remember actually agreeing to do that — though everyone had highly encouraged him to do so — but it seemed it was too late to back out now.
Eventually, the crowd around him dissipated, and he was in the Ministry lobby about to step into the nearest Floo.
"Harry, a word, please?"
Harry stopped and turned to face Augusta. He nodded to the rest of the people who had followed him to the Ministry lobby as they shook his hand once more and disappeared into the green flames or into the Ministry elevator to start on their actual jobs.
"Augusta?" he asked, stepping closer as she walked to an alcove a little off to the side of the lobby.
The older woman flicked her wand and Harry sensed a privacy ward falling into place around them. Frown forming, Harry observed Augusta and felt a small shiver of unease. Augusta stared hard at him for several moments, and Harry had the nervous sensation of being examined.
"My grandson has contacted me about your offer," she said finally.
Oh, Harry thought with a small amount of relief. "Oh yes, do you have your answer?"
Augusta eyed him once again but finally nodded. "Yes, my grandson and I are in agreement with our decision. However, first, we wish for something else."
Harry tilted his head. "What would you wish for?"
"We believe the potential chance to speak with Frank and Alice is worth the risk of allowing them to pass on. However," she paused, her gaze critical and unwavering, "we require that the witch who put them in that state die before they do."
Harry gaped. "I can understand why you would want this, but I'm not sure I can guarantee Bellatrix's death. I mean, I don't have any contact—"
"Do me the courtesy of not insulting my intelligence and let us not waffle over the intricacies of political ignorance," Augusta interrupted him. "I am certain that you have methods of tracking down the witch and delivering justice for the grief she caused. Once the witch is dead, my grandson and I will approve of my son and daughter-in-law passing on. Do we have an understanding?"
"We have an understanding," Harry agreed quietly. Augusta gave him a brisk nod, dropped the privacy spells, and strode away.
Desperate to finally leave, Harry walked to the Floo network and vanished into the flames.
He entered Marvolo's office and reached out for the couch arm without a thought. Straightening, he nodded to Marvolo before turning to face Avery, Nott, Malfoy, and Snape, who all also stood in the office. Harry wondered if Snape was reporting about Dumbledore's reaction. Glancing at the clock on Marvolo's wall, he saw that he had been kept over an hour after the trial. The four men stood shoulder to shoulder in the middle of Marvolo's office, while Marvolo reclined behind his desk. Harry sat down on the sofa as he normally did with his feet stretched out taking up the rest of the sofa, and drew his wand to twirl. The restless energy that had been building throughout the trial needed an outlet, and it looked like he wouldn't get a chance to vent or duel until these four were done reporting.
The brief pause that had arisen when Harry arrived ended, and Malfoy continued his report.
"How are you?" Marvolo hissed, interrupting Malfoy again.
Harry sighed, propping his chin up with his hand and resting his elbow on the armrest, his other hand spinning the plain wand faster. "They are in Azkaban now; that's all that matters," he finally replied.
"They are in Azkaban but not for all of the original charges," Marvolo countered, eyeing Harry intensely.
"But they are locked away. They won't be getting out. And I get money out of it," Harry hissed back bitterly. "What is it you're always saying? The result is the same, so why bother with the means?"
"Once everything is over, we shall journey to Azkaban and properly serve justice," Marvolo promised.
Harry smiled softly at the offer. "I appreciate that. Also, after this meeting, I need to talk to you about Bellatrix."
A small crease formed between Marvolo's eyebrows. "What about her?"
"I'll tell you later," Harry replied and grinned at the glare he received.
Grumpy now, Marvolo faced Malfoy again. He waited the space of two seconds and snapped, "Well? Are you going to continue your report, or do you take pleasure in wasting your Lords' time?"
Malfoy rushed to assure Marvolo that he didn't wish to waste any time, and Harry couldn't help but snicker at the frantic assurances. But he didn't say anything else and simply listened to the reports. At one point, Nagini slithered out from beneath Marvolo's desk and coiled up on Harry's outstretched legs, and draped over his shoulders to hiss in his ear. Absently, Harry stroked the snake's scaly head and bit his lip to not laugh at her commentary.
"Dumbledore is furious over losing Moody and Kingsley," Snape was saying. Harry tuned out Nagini to listen better. "I believe he may be planning something drastic in retaliation. Possibly even a rescue. Just before I was dismissed, he summoned the metamorphmagus, werewolf, Diggle, and Vance." Harry made a mental note to chat with Remus soon.
Marvolo nodded, his fingers steepled in front of him as he reclined in his chair. "What of his hand?"
"It is getting progressively worse, My Lord."
"What's wrong with his hand?" Harry asked out loud. "It looked fine at the Wizengamot."
"The Headmaster is using heavy glamours to keep signs of his rapidly deteriorating hand from view," Snape explained smoothly, barely blinking an eye at having to answer Harry's question. "This was the result of touching a cursed Dark artifact earlier in the summer. I believe that originally Albus did not intend to hide the curse's effects, but since plans have changed he has deemed it necessary to keep it hidden."
"Would this Dark artifact have any connection to you?" Harry hissed.
Marvolo pointedly didn't look at Harry. "Anything else to report?" Harry glared at Marvolo for ignoring him and essentially confirming his question. The four men shook their heads. "Dismissed. Return for dinner."
The men bowed low and left the room without another word. Harry didn't bother watching them leave and stared at Marvolo. "What was the Dark artifact that Dumbledore touched?"
"How am I to know everything that old coot comes into contact with?"
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Well, I think something you should know is that you shouldn't go about lying to me. You know what that artifact was, or else you wouldn't care for how it was affecting him."
"The curse is affecting him, making him weak. He is my enemy. It is crucial to remain abreast of any potential advantage."
"And why didn't you tell me about it? As your ally, did you not think I would benefit from this information? I could have provided ideas on utilizing this advantage."
"Slipped my mind," Marvolo replied easily. "Now, what about Bellatrix do you want to talk about."
"You are a certified genius. Things like this do not just slip your mind," Harry pressed. He shifted on the couch to better face Marvolo. Nagini hissing in displeasure from being jolted and slid back to the floor.
"Harry, do not become too comfortable with the many leniencies I allow," Marvolo cautioned, his voice quiet.
Eyes narrowed, Harry allowed the topic to drop, but he wouldn't forget about it. Something niggled at his mind that this Dark artifact might be connected to the methods of violating Life that Death had mentioned during their last talk. Despite feeling like the two things were connected, Harry didn't feel the time was right yet to bring it up.
"Bellatrix then," Harry finally said. "How much longer do you think you'll need her for?"
"Why do you ask?"
"You know the offer I gave Neville? Well, his grandmother approached me after the trial today. She said they would agree to the offer if Bellatrix died first. She said it wasn't right that Frank and Alice suffered for years and still died before the witch who caused it all. So once Bellatrix dies, she says that I can Claim Frank and Alice."
"Why would she feel that you could provide this?"
Harry shrugged. "I think she knows, or at least suspects, where my actual allegiances lie."
"She always was a shrewd woman, if I recall correctly," Marvolo muttered. "Bellatrix's use is rapidly diminishing. She is always useful in raids or attacks, but as those aren't the focus this time around, her use is next to nothing. I know she is desperate to confront you after you disowned her from House Black. Since I keep her banned from the manor outside of meetings, she hasn't had her chance. But when you do finally confront each other, I will not mourn her loss."
"Would you mourn mine?" The words had slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, and Harry felt his face heating up in mortification.
Marvolo stared intently at him, and Harry ducked his head sheepishly, peeking up at Marvolo through the fringe of his hair. "Yes," Marvolo said quietly.
Harry felt warm at the admission. "I would mourn you as well," he admitted. "Though you know, given my Inheritance that isn't something either of us should have to face any time soon."
"You would use your Inheritance to prevent my death?" Marvolo repeated softly.
Harry nodded. "I would. I consider you my friend, Marvolo, and you're also my ally and partner. Strange as it is, considering everything, I don't want to see you dead." The silence was heavy as they stared at each other. Harry felt they were approaching the edge of that unspoken void and felt his heart flutter faster. "Though you know, if for whatever reason you did die and I couldn't stop it, I could always still talk to you." The heaviness of the moment evaporated, and Harry inwardly breathed a sigh of relief while feeling his stomach twist in the shame of his cowardice.
Marvolo rolled his eyes and stood up. "I do believe it is nearing time for our dueling lesson is it not?"
Taking the hint, Harry went to get changed into looser robes. Once in the Dueling Room, Harry faced Marvolo who had also changed into more appropriate attire. "I can imagine you felt slighted after the results of this morning's trial," Marvolo began, moving to the edge of the room. "So for the first part of today's lesson, I wish for you to unleash that anger."
Eager for the chance, Harry nodded and watched the familiar motion of Marvolo flicking his wand and summoning the dummies to surround him in the middle of the room. "Are we ever going to duel against each other, Marvolo?" Harry asked before he started.
"I believe we will. I look forward to the challenge you will provide."
Grinning at the praise, Harry settled into his fighter's crouch. Soon he was lost to the adrenaline, the emotions, and the spellfire. After an hour of nonstop dueling, Marvolo canceled the dummies and allowed Harry a moment to drink some water before starting the actual lesson. Today was Fiendfyre. Marvolo emphasized the importance of magical control for this type of spell to work; it was not as simple as flinging a curse and moving on. This spell required full control at every moment.
Harry felt pleasantly exhausted and emotionally empty by the end of the lesson. He still hadn't managed to cast more than a stream of fire — no animal had taken shape yet — but Harry felt good about the lesson. There were still two hours until dinner, so Harry departed from Marvolo to shower and work on homework.
Knowing there would be company at dinner, Harry dressed in nicer robes — ruby red closed robes with black trim — and left a bit earlier than normal so he wouldn't be late. When it was just the two of them it was a regular occurrence that one or both of them would become so absorbed in their work that they forgot it was dinnertime, and the elves would be sent to hunt them down. But when company attended, Harry made a point to not lose track of time. He didn't want to lose any esteem he was gaining with the Death Eaters, and he didn't want to make Marvolo look bad in front of guests.
Harry slid into his seat at Marvolo's right hand. Avery sat next to him with Nott and the Lestrange brothers completing the row. Lucius Malfoy sat at Marvolo's right hand next to Narcissa, Snape, and Rowle. The wine poured and the dishes served, Harry surreptitiously cast the dealcoholized spell over his goblet before taking a sip. He noticed that Marvolo had also started drinking the wine served at these dinners upon learning the spell.
"Lord Potter," Narcissa began while the second course — a creamy tomato soup — was served, "I heard that you have consented to host a Yule Ball for your Faction."
"You heard correct," Harry agreed.
"I was not aware you had actually agreed to that," Marvolo hissed, looking sharply at him.
"I wasn't either. However, my Faction members apparently weren't aware of that and decided to announce and invite people after the trial," Harry explained quickly before turning back to Narcissa to continue in English. "I'm sure it will be an eye-opening venture, considering that I am not overly familiar with hosting such events."
"If it is not too presumptuous, Lord Potter, I would like to offer my assistance. I assisted My Lord in past years with planning his Yule Ball, as well as planning and organizing the Annual Malfoy New Year's Eve Ball."
"Your assistance would be most appreciated," Harry said politely because he certainly didn't want to plan the cursed thing. He was confident that Narcissa wouldn't dare try to ruin it, especially if her name was attached to it. Narcissa Malfoy would rather help a thrice sworn enemy like Dumbledore then organize a terrible Ball.
"Speaking of my past Yule Balls," Marvolo said. "I believe that is a tradition that should be renewed."
"My Lord?" Lucius said in surprise.
"Yes," Marvolo said, giving a slight nod. "The Dark has much to celebrate, and such an event is well deserved. Narcissa, you will organize this as well as Lord Potter's Faction Ball."
Instead of looking daunted at the thought of planning two Yule Balls and her own family's New Year's Eve Ball, Narcissa looked deliriously thrilled at the prospect. "Of course, My Lord, I will not let your tremendous honor be ill-placed."
"Be sure to include Lord Potter's allies on the Invitation List for my Ball as well," Marvolo added.
Harry's eyebrows skyrocketed. "Really?"
"As my ally, those loyal to you shall also be rewarded."
"A lot of my allies still need to remain anonymous for their own safety," Harry commented hesitantly.
"I will place wards ensuring the secrecy and privacy of the event."
"Of course, My Lord," Narcissa said with a bow of her head. "Lord Potter if you could provide me with a list of names to send the invitations, I will send them."
"Actually, I'll invite them myself and provide you with the number to anticipate," Harry countered. "Again, secrecy and anonymity are crucial in regards to my allies."
Narcissa didn't look pleased by this but didn't argue. "Of course, Lord Potter."
The talk of Yule spun Harry's thoughts back to the last Hogsmeade weekend and Ron's comment about buying Marvolo a present. Harry wondered if Draco not knowing when Marvolo's birthday was because he wasn't an actual Death Eater, a member of the Inner Circle, or if it was because that no one actually knew it.
"Will you hold a Ball for your birthday?" Harry hissed when the conversation dissolved, and the main course was brought out — roast venison with buttered asparagus.
"No," Marvolo hissed immediately.
"Why not? I'm sure your followers would love to honor your birthday with a celebration."
"I'm sure they would. However, I have never enjoyed celebrations in honor of my birth and do not wish to begin doing so now. The Malfoy New Year's Eve Ball will be sufficient enough."
Did Marvolo not enjoy birthday celebrations because he simply didn't like them or because he'd never had them? Harry thought against asking that question but felt the answer to be the latter. "It's too bad," Harry hissed with a sigh. "It would probably be amusing to see the minions trying to one-up each other in getting you gifts."
Marvolo chuckled darkly. Harry resisted shivering at the sinful sound. It seemed Harry was the only one who enjoyed the sound, though. Rowle dropped his fork, Nott almost spilled his wine, and the Lestrange brothers flinched.
"That would be amusing, my little lion. However, contrary to your beliefs, I don't wish to see the Wizarding World collapse under economic ruin as would be the case from such a one-upping debacle. It comes close enough during Yule and the presents they try to give me then. Two events so close together would shatter any and all financial stability."
Harry laughed. The rest of the table began eating once again when he did, eyes trained on their plates and backs stiff. Seeing an opportunity, Harry tried to wheedle out some extra information. "What would you want for a birthday or Yule present, though? I can understand not wishing to see the economic ruin of the most prominent Wizarding families, but surely there is something."
Marvolo cut his venison into small bite-sized pieces and loaded his fork with a small piece of meat and a small piece of asparagus. Chewing the perfectly balanced mouthful, Marvolo observed the others at the table before his gaze landed on Harry once again. "Nothing comes to mind," he replied finally.
"Really? Nothing? No ancient books or priceless artifacts?"
"Nothing. I can obtain all things I wish and desire through my own means. I do not need to rely on another to receive them."
Harry exaggerated rolling his eyes to play off his questioning. Inwardly though, he wanted to bang his head on the table. What the hell kind of answer was that? Why did Marvolo have to be so bloody difficult!
After dinner, Marvolo dismissed his followers, who all bowed low and left the room. Harry called for Severus to remain. The room emptied and stood next to his seat while Harry remained seated in his. "How goes it at Hogwarts?" Harry asked, jumping right into the issue.
Severus glanced at Marvolo, who also remained seated. "Speak, Severus, Lord Potter asked you a question."
"As I reported earlier, Dumbledore is -"
"Not Dumbledore," Harry interrupted. "I don't care about him. Besides, we went over him already. I am asking about Hogwarts, the students; they are my priority. I have spoken with my friends and it seems the students are divided on their opinions about everything. Can you give any more input?"
"The staff is very much the same. Though most seem to be leaning towards you, your primary school idea is of particular interest."
"Which professors are having the most difficulties?"
"Hagrid has been despondent since everything started. Minerva is growing increasingly torn, I think if things continue to progress as they have, she will tip in your favor, though. Sybill is spouting your prophetic death at any who will listen. Filch remarks on your troublemaking tendencies repeatedly, stating he should have whipped you when he had the chance. The rest seem more interested in both the primary school and Hogwarts than politics. Though Flitwick is eager to meet with you, I believe your Inheritance has sparked his Ravenclaw curiosity."
Snape spoke swiftly and directly; nothing added that wasn't asked for. Harry appreciated it. "And the students?"
"The Gryffindors are more bothersome and riotous than normal. The entire House appears split, the arguments hardly noteworthy. The idiot dunderheads that they are, speak and shout without careful thought, reacting on emotion rather than reason. I've seen a few swap standings within the span of a day and be equally as vocal."
Harry smirked at the description of his old House but hated thinking of such animosity brewing. "My friends?"
"Adept and impressive actors," Snape admitted, his lips pinched and twisted at the compliment.
"The rest of the Houses?"
"Those vocally against you or your ideas are very limited in the other Houses. Most seem to be accepting of your plans, at least in regards to your school. I have not witnessed many going against you, though I cannot say about what occurs in the Common Rooms. Slytherin, of course, is adamantly in support of you."
Harry nodded. Things seemed favorable, which was good. Hopefully, the trial and the publishing of what he had suffered in the summer would only enhance those good feelings.
"Thank you, Severus. Have a good rest of your night." Severus bowed to Harry and Marvolo and swept out of the room. "I think I'm growing on him," Harry joked standing up. Marvolo smirked and stood as well.
"Severus always was rather surly and tough to crack. However, I believe you have begun earning his respect. How you did this is anyone's guess. Now, to the library?" Marvolo asked without need since both of them were already walking in that direction.
"Sounds wonderful."