Miranda stands trial for the murder of Ewart Eastwick, from the night they were separated at Godric's Hollow.
June 21st-
The stone walls of the courtroom were oppressive. She could very nearly feel the obscurous shrinking back in disgust at the mixture of anger, fear, and ancient magic in the air. The Ministry officials were seated above her, watching with an intensity that made her skin prickle. She was used to the stares in public, they hadn't gotten any better since the memorial.
Today was different though. She needed these people to see past that, past her brother's legacy. Harry had stayed glued to her side for the walk through the Ministry, but her solicitor had ushered him away to wait in the packed gallery with Hermione and Ron. He'd been irritated, but they had insisted. A quick glance their way told her he was still pissed. Hermione was holding onto his arm, and Ron kept glancing nervously at him like he was afraid he might have to hold his best friend back.
The head wizard, whose name Miranda hadn't caught, cleared his throat a half dozen times before silence fell, "We are gathered here today to discuss the death of Ewart Eastwick at the hands of one Miranda Merope Riddle." He turned to her, "Miss Riddle, you claim he posed a threat to your life. But we have reviewed a pensieve of the incident and question the urgency of your use of an Unforgivable Curse when you could have subdued him instead."
Miranda's throat tightened, nausea she wanted to blame on the baby rose. "I didn't have a choice." Miranda whispered. "He was going to attack me with lethal force. I reacted to protect myself. It was instinct."
"Instinct?" He scoffed, "You speak of instinct? You, the sister of…" He stumbled over the name, "Lord Voldemort?"
Miranda inhaled slowly, trying to keep her voice steady and avoid rising to the bait he'd obviously been setting. "He attacked me. He was casting a curse, I defended myself."
"Convenient, isn't it?" A young wizard said, his face contorted in disgust, "A woman with a past like yours, the blood of the Dark Lord running through your veins. Your first instinct is to use an Unforgivable when faced with a threat."
The words stung. It was so hard to know how he'd ended when she so loved the boy he'd started as. He had been everything they feared, and now, just by being his sister, she was forced to wear the same cloak of guilt. "I am not my brother," she said, her voice quieter but firm. "I did not choose his path. The time I spent with him was to keep myself alive, to keep…Harry alive." The twitter of hushed whispers at Harry's name was expected, but she kept going, "I don't choose violence, but I will defend myself when I'm under threat. I am not asking for sympathy or forgiveness. I'm asking for justice."
The council exchanged glances, but the head wizard, with his calculating eyes, leaned forward, "Your brother's actions have pulled our world apart for decades. Your very bloodline is a reminder of what we've fought against. The fact that you have theaudacityto sit in this court and claim self-defense, it's reprehensible."
A ripple of emotion surged through her, the obscurus reacted in kind, and she looked down at her hands as she fought to keep the magic contained. The creature inside of her seemed to know she was at a disadvantage. She could not lose her cool, she could not prove to them that she was a volatile, evil witch.
Before she could respond, a calm, steady voice cut through the air: "You are wrong."
Miranda's head snapped up, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw him- her Harry, standing. His posture was confident, despite the eyes on them. His gaze was bright and pointed as he addressed those gathered against her, "Her actions were not those of a cold-blooded killer. I know this woman better than anyone here. She is not Lord Voldemort, she does not seek violence, and she would never choose to harm another living thing. What happened that night was the result of me failing to protect her, and her being forced to protect herself from a man who would have killed her without hesitation."
The council shifted uncomfortably. The Boy Who Lived, adored by the public and revered by most of the wizarding world, was taking a stance that was as bold as it was unusual. The very idea that he would align himself with a woman tainted by her family's past was a provocation in itself.
"You're risking your reputation by speaking on her behalf," the older wizard warned, his voice hard.
Harry's jaw clenched, but his eyes never wavered from her accusers, "I don't care about my reputation. I care about her, and the truth. The truth is, she acted in self-defense. She didn't choose to kill. If we're being fair, we must acknowledge that the man she killed was no innocent. He was a Death Eater."
The room went eerily silent. Miranda felt a surge of gratitude and love, but she also felt the weight of it. Harry was on a slippery slope. Which he then proceeded to step right off: "If you're going to send her to Azkaban, send me too! I killed Voldemort. I've committed murder too."
"Harry, no!" Miranda cried, coming to her feet.
The voices that had already been muttering grew into a fervor.
Miranda pinched her eyes closed. She hadn't meant to stand. Her solicitor had told her not to, had advised they keep things factual and not emotional. Which meant hiding her belly. Which was now no longer hidden beneath the table she'd been placed at or by her handbag.
The head wizard's gaze flicked to her, his eyes lingering on her small bump. "You are…expecting?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and wariness.
Miranda's breath hitched, but she kept her voice calm. "Yes. I am."
The room went still.
Whispers circulated like an undercurrent, the council members and spectators clearly struggling to reconcile the reality of her condition with their preconceived notions of who she was. There were mutterings about her bloodline, about her brother, about what that might mean for the child growing within her: "What if it's the Dark Lords? What if it's evil too? What are we going to do?"
They hadn't anticipated what was to come next.
Harry, who had been quiet since her outcry, moved out of the spectator section. His movements were sharp and purposeful, his presence cutting through the murmurs like a sword through smoke. His eyes, which had been unwaveringly focused on her, now swept over the tribunal with a newfound intensity.
"I'll say it here, before most of the Ministry," he began, his voice strong and steady as he reached out to take one of her hands in his, "that the child she carries is mine."
A collective gasp rippled through the room. It wasn't just the claim- it was the weight of it. The Boy Who Lived, the face of a generation, the hope of many, had just publicly acknowledged that he was connected to the witch on trial in the most intimate way possible. That he, loved and admired by many, was choosing Lord Voldemort's sister.
He looked back at Miranda, his gaze softening, "I love her. We are preparing to have a child and start a family together."
One of the older wizards, a man who had been scrutinizing her every word with rapt intensity, spoke up. His voice was deliberate, slow, like he was weighing each syllable before it left his mouth, "You are under a spell."
The accusation rang through the hall, causing the Harry and Miranda to stiffen.
The wizard continued, his eyes narrowing as he glanced between them, "Her mother did the same thing to her father, you know? Merope Gaunt used a love potion on Tom Marvolo Riddle Senior. She forced him to love her. And now…now you're under the same influence. I've researched the history of Lord Voldemort. This is no coincidence. This is not true love. She is simply repeating history."
Miranda's chest tightened so much she couldn't speak. Her mother's manipulation had been another facet of the tragedy that had been her life. How dare he bring that up? How had he even known?
Harry was unwavering, his hand tightening on hers, stepping even closer to her. His voice was firm, "I am not under any spell. What we have is real. I will not stand here and let you belittle her, or our child, by suggesting otherwise."
The shock in the room was palpable. Eyes darted between the couple, the tension rising like a storm cloud threatening to burst.
Then something shifted. Miranda, her hands still shaking from the stress of it all, tucked herself even closer to Harry. Her hand reached up, resting on his chest while she leaned her head against his shoulder. Harry pressed a chaste kiss into her hair.
The head wizard made some sort of inhuman sound, "You've broken the rule of the court," he said coldly. "There is to be no physical contact between the defendant and others. You've overstepped. Again."
Harry didn't flinch, his posture protective, "I won't let you attack the woman I love any longer. You've seen her memories, you know what happened. I trust you'll make the right decision."
"We will deliberate further on your case." He said, sighing deeply, casting a spell to muffle the conversation that erupted as soon as he did so.
Miranda looked at Harry, "Why?"
He smiled at her, kissing her on the lips, "I couldn't sit there and listen to that. I can't get you out of this with my wand, but I had to hope my words would help."
Miranda had to smiled back at him, "I love you."
"I love you too." Harry told her, hugging her close to his chest.
They stood together, eyes closed, pretending it was just the two of them, for several minutes. Long enough, apparently, for the council to make their decision.
The silencing spell was removed, and Harry and Miranda parted a ways to face them. They both kept a tight grip on the other's hands though.
The verdit, when it came, was delivered with a cold finality. "You have used an Unforgivable Curse to take the life of another wizard. The child you carry, the connections you have…neither can be allowed to excuse you from punishment." Miranda stood tall, trying to keep the obscurus from killing them all or from Harry doing the same. "After out deliberation," the wizard continued, "we have decided on a course of action. For your transgression, we hereby order that you be stripped of your wand for a period of 20 years."
The words rang out, and Miranda felt a flicker of relief, a small, imperceptible release in her chest. Not prison. Not Azkaban. Not a life sentence.
He wasn't done, "During this time, you will not possess any wand or the means by which to create one. If, and only if, you prove compliant with the Ministry's expectations, your wand may be returned earlier. Any further transgressions will result in a new trial, which you would do well to avoid. Your life won't be tied to Harry Potter's child forever."
Miranda's heart was thudding in her chest. The fear, the paralyzing dread really, was gone. They could have sent her to Azkaban, easily. There would have been no future for her then, maybe not even for the baby either. At best they would have been separated forever. Losing her wand was a blow, but it was one she could survive.
"Take her wand." The head wizard ordered.
An auror stepped forward, and Miranda raised her left hand, her scarred palm flat, her wand balanced across her palm in a graceful offering. Her fingers curled slightly as he took her wand from her, and she swallowed back the sensation of loss. It wasn't a life sentence. They'd be reunited eventually. She just had to be patient. It still felt like a vital organ had been removed. Ten and a half inches, holly and a core of Phoenix tears, they'd only been together for six years really.
"Do not test us, Miss Riddle." He reminded her sternly.
"I won't," she said with a nod, and whispered, "Thank you." Whether or not the man had wanted to give her the mercy the council had decided on or not, she had to acknowledge it.
He gave a final, almost dismissive nod. "You may go. But remember, this is not over. Your actions will be closely monitored by Ministry officials."
"We understand." Harry said, putting his arm around her and guiding her back to where Ron and Hermione stood waiting.
Hermione threw her arms around the other witch, "I'm so sorry!"
Miranda felt a soft smile tugging at her lips as she returned the hug, "It's okay. Not what I would have wanted, but so much better than it could have been."
She and Harry shared a knowing look. She wasn't helpless. With the war over, there wasn't a lot she couldn't do without her wand for day to day things. Without words, they'd both agreed to keep her aptitude with wandless magic to herself.
They ate dinner at the burrow, reveling in time with their family, and then headed home hand in hand. Miranda opened the door to Grimmauld Place, and paused, a deep breath escaping her as she crossed the threshold. The weight of the Ministry's decision lingered, but for the first time in a long time, there was a quiet sense of peace- a feeling of relief. The Black family's ancestral home was a welcome reprieve from the intensity of the day, and for a moment, all that existed was the soft glow of the fading sunlight filtering through the windows.
Harry was already tugging off his jacket, a smile tugging at his lips as he looked at her. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it? It's not my first time in that courtroom."
Miranda laughed softly, shaking her head, "I really think I can live without you being in there a third time. I'm certainly in no hurry for a second trip." She reached up to undo the clasp on her cloak, exposing her bump again.
"Ah, but we didn't. And now we're here." He took a step forward, reaching for her hands after she'd placed her cloak on it's hook. "Together. Snape isn't here, the elves are…not here."
Miranda felt the warmth spread through her at his touch, a sense of peace filling her as she looked into his green eyes. "I'm glad you're here," she said softly, her fingers tracing the lines of his palms. She leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against his cheek, then pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Harry's expression shifted, moving his hands to cup her face, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones as he lowered his forehead to hers. "You won't ever have to," he whispered, voice thick with emotion. He pulled her in closer, his lips finding hers in a slow, tender kiss, one that spoke of relief, of the love they shared.
They held each other for a long moment, letting the quiet of their home, the warmth of each other's presence, envelop them. As they slowly pulled apart, a knock sounded at the door. It was too sudden, too jarring to ignore.
Miranda instinctively reached for her wand. That old habit was going to be hard to break. Harry frowned, stepping past her, "Were you expecting someone to come by?"
"Like Draco? My only friend that's not yours too?" Miranda whispered so as not to be heard by whoever was outside. "No."
She followed Harry to the door, peering over his shoulder as he swung it open. Andromeda Tonks stood on the stoop, her face ashen and streaked with tears.
"Mrs. Tonks?" Harry asked.
Miranda took note of how the woman's shaking hands held a bundle that had to be Teddy. "Andromeda, please come in. Are you alright?" She asked, her voice faltering as a chill of dread chased out the warmth that had been growing.
Without a word, Andromeda stepped into the house, almost forcing Harry to step aside to make room for her. She thrust the baby towards them, "I can't. I can't do this anymore," she said the words frantically, hands trembling. "I can't raise him. Not the way I am."
Miranda's heart tightened as she processed the words. If Teddy wasn't with his parents, the next logical place had been with Andromeda. Harry was clearly stunned, "You said you were okay."
"We can take him for the night," Miranda said carefully.
Andromeda shook her head, attempting to place the baby in their arms again, "No. Not just a night. I thought…I thought I could do this. But…I can't. It's too much. I can't even look at him some days. I've tried. I have. But I can't keep him anymore. I'm begging you. Please…take him."
Miranda did as she was told, taking the baby into her arms. He squawked adorably, obviously upset about so much movement so late in his day. She rocked him slightly, not wanting him awake for what seemed to be his grandmother abandoning him.
Harry, who had always taken on responsibility with an almost unnatural determination, hesitated. His gaze flicked between Miranda and the baby and Andromeda, his eyebrows furrowed, "We…we didn't discuss this," he said quietly, still reeling in shock. He stepped close to Miranda, "Taking him, raising him…we never talked about this."
Miranda swallowed hard, the emotions swirling inside her so fast. She looked back down at the baby in her arms, the tiny life that had just been placed in their hands. "We have to, Harry. For him."
Harry rubbed his hands up and down his face, whispering, "I'm not ready for this," the fear thick in his words. "How can I be? I wasn't raised by my parents, and the Dursleys were terrible to me. I don't know how to…how toraisehim. How can I make him feel loved without messing him up? I don't know…"
Miranda plopped the baby into his arms, silencing him, "You are not them. You've never been them. You have more love in you than anyone I know."
Harry brought Teddy closer to his body, closing his eyes for a moment, breathing in her words and the baby's scent. The reassurance broke through the wall of self-doubt that had suddenly flared up, "What if I fail him?"
Miranda's voice softened, the words coming easily as she spoke from a place deep in her heart. "You won't. You'll give him everything you have. And that's enough. Promise."
"I don't want him to feel like an outsider," he whispered. "I don't want him to feel different just because he's not…just because he's not…ours."
Miranda smiled, feeling more confident than she'd thought she would. "Teddy will never feel like an outsider. He will never doubt we love him. For all my Papa did, for all the evil he was capable of, I never once felt like he loved me less because I wasn't his by blood. You'll do the same and more for Teddy because there's not an evil bone in your body."
Harry nodded his head, more confident, "You're right." He shifted the baby in his arms and reached out one hand to touch Andromeda's arm, "We'll take him.
"Thank you," Andromeda whispered, voice raw, her face a mixture of exhaustion and relief. "I couldn't do it anymore. I love him, but…with his gift, it's so hard not to see my baby girl when I look at him. I know you'll love him."
"We will," Miranda assured her, "And we're just a Floo away. You can visit anytime."
Andromeda shook her head, "I can't. Not now. Not when I've failed him like this." With one last look at her grandson in Harry's arms, she stepped back, walking right back out the still open front door.
They stood completely still for several minutes, both processing the immense decision they'd just made.
Teddy fussed again, and Harry moved to hold him more securely, "It's alright, mate. We'll get you into bed."
They walked up the stairs in silence to the third floor. In the few weeks before the trial, they had cleaned out Walburga's room completely and claimed it officially as their own. The guest room down the hall had been emptied and the nursery, mostly unfinished, stood before them. The soft light of the evening filtered in through the window, casting long shadows over the ancient wooden floors. The mix of old and new seemed to reflect the day they'd had. A blend of tradition and change, of things unspoken and promises yet to be fulfilled.
Harry stood in the doorway, Teddy now serenely asleep in his arms, lulled by the movement of Harry's steps up the stairs. "We'll keep looking," he murmured, his gaze on the new cot they hadn't yet finished assembling. Miranda let her gaze linger on the baby in his arms, tucking herself behind Harry so she could look at the boy. "I'll keep searching for Lupin, promise."
Miranda didn't respond right away. She didn't know Lupin as well as Harry did, not by a long shot, but the man was both wizard and werewolf. If he didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be found. She didn't voice those doubts though, instead resting her hand on Harry's arm, "I know you will. And we'll still be enough. We will give Teddy everything he needs. We'll make sure of it."
He looked up at her then, his brow furrowing as he held Teddy a little closer, almost protectively, "I just don't want him to feel different. I don't want him to feel like he's not ours, like he doesn't belong here because he's not our child. I don't want him to feel like…an outsider."
Miranda couldn't love him more if she tried. She understood more than she would have liked the fear that lingered in his voice, "He won't feel like an outsider. Not with us. Not in this house. We'll make sure he knows that he belongs. That he's loved. We both know more than most that love is what makes a family. Not blood."
Harry's eyes softened, though they still held that flicker of doubt. He glanced at Teddy again, fully understanding what they were about to take on. The weight of responsibility was both a gift and a burden—but he was ready for it. For Teddy. For Miranda. For their family.
"You're right," he murmured, his voice thick. "I want to be a good father... not just a good guardian." He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from the witch's face, his gaze never leaving her. "And I know I can be, with you by my side."
The witch smiled and kissed his cheek, grateful for the softness in his eyes, the steadiness in his heart. "We'll make sure Teddy knows that he's loved. With everything we have." She stepped over to the cot, one hand on her hip, the other on her bump, "I do suppose we'll need another one of these. And to put this one together, of course."
Harry sighed, though the sound was light. He walked forward and held the baby out to her. Miranda took him without hesitation, smiling at the man she loved, "Should we call one of the elves to help?"
Harry shook his head, "Nope. No. I'm going to do this on my own." He straightened his shoulders with mock gravitas and said, "Alright, it's time to finish this. I can do this."
Miranda raised an eyebrow, "You sure about that?" she asked, giving the pile of wood and screws a skeptical look. "It might be more complicated than you think."
He gave her a determined nod, the gleam in his eye unmistakable. "I've got this," he said, as though he were about to perform some grand feat of strength, "You just…relax. Watch the master at work."
Miranda couldn't hold back the grin that spread across her face as she settled into the heirloom rocking chair they'd found in the attic a few days ago, Teddy sleeping peacefully in her arms, "Alright, go ahead. I'll just sit here and enjoy the show."
In the end, Teddy Lupin spent his first night in Grimmauld Place on a pad spelled for safety on their bed. Harry and Miranda lay on their sides, framing him, and gazed at one another in happy exhaustion until they too fell asleep.
Does Harry have what it takes to defeat the Dark Lord, yes. Does Harry have what it takes to assemble a cot? No, no he does not.
Let me know what you think!
-Jenn