Title: Verdict Slips
"Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?"said Madam Bones's booming voice.
Harry's head jerked upward. There were hands in the air, many of them..more than half! Breathing very fast, he tried ot count, but before he could finish Madam Bones had said, "And those in favor of conviction?"
Fudge raised his hand; so did half a dozen others, including the witch on his right and the heavily mustached wizard and teh frizzy-haired witch in the second row.
Fudge glanced around at them all, looking as though there was somthing large stuck in his throat, then lowere his own hand. He took two deep breaths and then said, in a voice distorted by suppressed rage, "Very well, very well...cleared of all charges."
"Excellent" said Dumbledore briskly, springing to his feet, pulling out his wand, and causing the three chinz armchairs to vanish. "Well, I must be getting along. Good day to you all."
And without looking once at Harry, he swept from the dungeon.
Harry stood in stunned silence, Mr. Weasley stood beside him.
The lift arrived; it wad empty except for a large flock of memos that flapped around Mr. Weasley's head as he pressed the button for the Atrium and the doors clanged shut; he waved them away irritably.
Harry blinked.
"Mr. Weasley," said Harry slowly, " if Fudge is meeting Death Eaters like Malfoy, if he's seeing them alone, how do we know they haven't put the Imperius Curse of him?"
"Don't think it hadn't occured to us, Harry," muttered Mr. Weasley." But Dumbledore thinks Fudge is acting of his own accord at the moment--which, as Dumbledore says, is not a lot of comfort. ..Best not talk about it anymore just now, Harry...."
The doors slid open to the still crowded Atrium. Harry noticed a new structure. Most of the crowd was gathered around it, milling about. It towered over most of the crowd. There seemed to be someone's head, complete with a pointed hat sticking out of the top of it.
"Hello. What's this?" Mr. Weasley said, as he noticed it as well.
As they had to go in that direction anyway, together, they made their way though the crowd to the structure wordlessly, both wanting a closer look. Several official looking wizards surrounded it, pushing the crowd back by few meters. Harry recognised them as being from the Auror's office eariler.
The structure itself looked exactly like a large hand would, if one had emerged from the ground. It was peacock blue in color, and even the dark wood of the floor was incorporated into it seemlessly, forming a sort of lip around the base of the bit of forearm. Harry could see details..like cuticles of fingernails, etched in quite clearly.
There seemed to be a man caught in it, and the only thing Harry could see of the man was his head, (with the pointy hat on top, of course), and the feet, which dangled at least a foot off the ground.
Mr. Weasley lurched forward suddenly before him.
"Careful, Harry. There seems to be a bit of a step." Mr. Weasley said loudly, to be heard over the crowd. Harry looked down, but there were so many gathered about the structure, and so many feet in the way, he couldn't see what Mr. Weasley was talking about. The floor appeared to be perfectly flat beneath him at least.
"Somebody cancel this thing!!" The man yelled with rage.
"We're trying, Mr. Scrimgeour. Nothing's working."
"Then find the one who did it, you incompetent..!"
"Shut it, you. Or you'll be stuck there for the night." One of the Aurors, a witch with an eyepatch looked over at the man, then noticed Mr. Weasley. "Weasley." Mr. weasley nodded in response, and straightened his coat.
"What happened?" Harry blurted out.
"Nothing to be concerned over. Move along.." The witch said officiously.
"Hell it is. This fellow here attacked a foreign wizard, thinking him a Muggle of all things!" A Wizard in the crowd near them said over the noise. "It could've been any of us he oblivated!!"
There were many shouts of agreement. Even quite a few, "Bloody Obliviators!", and "Damned Aurors!!"
"I SAID. MOVE ALONG!!" The witch shouted, voice booming over all the angry voices of the crowd.
"Come on Harry. Let's go." Mr. Weasley said, and grabbed Harry's shoulder.
Harry was pulled a step or two, then he turned back, or rather tried to. He could only twist his neck over as far as it could go. "What happened to the foreigner?" He yelled.
"Defended himself, of course!" The wizard waved at the structure.
Harry felt the hand on his shoulder give him a squeeze, and a firm tug. With great reluctance, he turned back and followed Mr. Weasley through the rest of the angry crowd. and then through the rest of the great, ornate, peacock-blue hall. When he reached the golden fountain at its center, Harry remembered something.
'My promise!'
"Wait.." he told Mr. Weasley, and pulling his money bag from his pocket, he turned back to the fountain. Looking critically at each of the golden scuptures, Harry turned his money bag upside down and emptied not just the ten Galleons he had promised before the hearing, before being cleared of all charges, but the whole contents into the pool at the staues' feet.
He then turned back to Mr. Weasley and smiled a wide grin.
Ed slumped in a metal chair at a patio table across from the frumpy woman, sipping at a glass of tea through a straw. His golden hair tied back in a high ponytail, and his unruly bangs hiding his face in shadow. He wore the colorful borrowed clothes of the Weasleys, consisting of a longsleeved sweater and long pants. The only thing that was truly his own were the white gloves that covered his mismatched hands.
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