The morning dawned far too soon for his liking, the light sun rays slithering through the curtains of his bedroom as Harry Potter stirred awake. Blinking his eyes open, he slowly sat up and stretched before making his way to the bathroom.
Half an hour later, he left his room and walked down the stairs toward the dining room and found a few Order members sitting there, talking amongst themselves.
All chatter ceased when he entered, a few people smiling at him reassuringly while he spotted some giving him looks of sympathy. He didn't pay them any mind and walked over to where Sirius was sitting with Mr Weasley and Remus. All three of them gave him small smiles as he took his seat. Harry looked at his godfather and raised his eyebrows slightly, and Sirius gave him a discreet nod. He relaxed a bit.
"How're you feeling?" Sirius asked, pushing a mug of coffee in front of him, which Harry took with a grateful nod.
"Well, I'll be lying if I said I wasn't feeling slightly nervous. After all, it's a murder charge."
Remus smiled slightly.
"Don't worry, Harry. It'd go well," he consoled, and Harry exchanged a look with his godfather and nodded. They had gone over it for quite a while in Dumbledore's office, and Harry was hopeful that their planning would pay off.
Soon, Mrs Weasley came bustling toward him and fixed him a plate of breakfast.
"Eat up, Harry dear. Merlin knows you need it all today," she fretted.
"Relax, Mrs. Weasley. It'll be alright. I'll be fine," he tried to reassure the nervous woman who gave him an uneasy smile.
"I can't believe they would do something like that. Framing you for murder… the ministry has gone rotten, I tell you," she muttered, as Harry started to eat. The three men watching sat there with small smiles as the woman fretted on him, and Harry rolled his eyes slightly, coaxing muffled chuckles from all of them.
Their attention was drawn away when the fireplace flashed green and out stepped Dumbledore dressed in his flamboyant purple robes.
"Ah. Are you ready, Harry?" He asked, walking forward, and taking a seat at the table before looking at Harry with his usual twinkling gaze.
"As ready as I can be," Harry nodded.
Dumbledore looked at him imploringly before leaning forward slightly.
"Rumour has it that Fudge is planning to push the time forward and skew the trial further against you. I have done what I could, but it would still be prudent if we made our way to the ministry as soon as we can," Dumbledore whispered so that only the four of them could hear.
Sirius seethed.
"That fucking slime, I'd give the entire Black fortune just to see him dragged down into the gutter."
"All in due time, Sirius," Dumbledore gave him a look and Sirius calmed himself down.
"Are you done, Harry?" The headmaster asked, looking at his empty plate, and Harry nodded.
"Yeah. Let's go," he said and stood up. Turning around, he saw all the residents of Grimmauld Place as well as the Order members who were present had gathered inside the room and that everyone was looking at him.
His eyes met those of his previous friends and he could see the tensed frowns on their faces. Although slightly mollified that they cared, he didn't deign to acknowledge them. He looked at Ginny and gave her a little nod, to which the girl smiled before he looked at the twins.
"Give ol' Fudgie hell, Harrykins," Fred called out.
"Make him regret messing with the son of Prongs," George grinned.
Despite the tense atmosphere, almost everyone chuckled. Harry smiled slightly and nodded at them before he felt his godfather's hand clap on his shoulder.
"Let's be off now," Sirius said, and Harry nodded.
They made their way to the fireplace and Mr Weasley floo'd to the ministry, followed by Dumbledore and Sirius. At last, Harry walked inside the fireplace and turned around. His eyes met Remus' who gave him a reassuring nod. With a smile, he whispered the words and vanished in an inferno of emerald flames.
XXXXX
The atrium was crowded. This was his first time in the ministry, and all he could see was the massive crowd that had flooded the massively open space. As soon as he exited the fireplace though, almost every eye turned toward him. It didn't take long for the whispers to start, and he saw some reporters rushing forward with their respective cameramen, no doubt greedy to pick up the day's marketable news piece directly from the source.
'Fucking swines,' Harry thought.
The three men with him made a shield around him, blocking their words and the approach of the crowd as they tried to quickly steer him towards the restricted area when they were confronted by a group of Aurors led by familiar faces.
"Harry Potter, you are hereby under arrest under the suspicion of the murder of one Piers Polkiss." Harry tuned out the rest as he felt the magic-suppressing handcuffs on his hands and looked up to see Tonks giving him an apologetic smile. She mouthed 'I'm sorry,' and he was quick to reassure her with a shake of his head.
Tonks smiled softly before forcing a serious expression on her face and dragging him behind her alongside Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody. Harry was feeling reassured at being surrounded by friendly faces. Although he didn't know Shacklebolt or Moody very well, the fact that they were Order members was heartening.
He turned around and nodded at his entourage and saw Dumbledore smiling and winking at him. He grinned internally. So, it was the old man who had arranged for these three to escort him.
"Wotcher, hotshot. You doing okay?" Tonks whispered as they passed the wand checkpoint and walked toward the elevators.
"As well as you could imagine, given the situation," he shrugged before grunting as Moody grabbed him by his neck roughly and shoved him inside the elevator.
Slightly stunned at the rough behaviour, Harry whirled around, only to see a few ministry officials standing in the corner, oddly glaring at him. Harry seethed internally at their presumption but didn't bother to act. Soon, the elevator started and they relaxed slightly.
"Sorry for that, laddie," Moody grunted. Harry simply nodded.
"It's fine," Harry rubbed his neck and twisted it slightly. Tonks chuckled.
"I still can't believe they stooped so low. Charging you with murder, when it's possible they ordered the attack themselves…"
"It's not Fudge," Harry remarked and Tonks paused. He continued, "he doesn't have the balls for it. No, it's someone in his administration who is in a position of power. No Death Eater can be involved either. All of them know how much Voldemort wants to kill me himself, and none of them would dare to take any action that could take away that opportunity from the tosser. It's the work of someone else. I'm sure."
"There aren't many who hold enough power and would send Dementors after you."
"Did you find any leads?"
Tonks shook her head in frustration.
"There is no paper trail to follow, nor is there any concrete evidence. All we have are suspects, none we can prove though," she sighed.
"It's that pink toad," Moody grunted, and all three of them turned to look at him.
"While I agree that she fits the bill, how can you be so sure Alastor?" Kingsley asked.
"Her Occlumency is worth donkey's crap," Moody chuckled.
Tonks' and Kingsley's eyes widened.
"You used Legilimency on her!? Are you crazy!? What if you were caught?" Tonks whisper-shouted.
Moody gave her a condescending look.
"Who are you talking to, lassie? I could go right up to her face, give her a resounding slap and walk back at a snail's pace, and she won't be able to tell who did that to her. The toady is a vile cunt, cruel, but not very bright, or magically capable enough."
All three of them exchanged looks before Harry asked, "Who's this toad we're talking about?"
Tonks grimaced, and Harry was surprised to see even Moody pursing his lips at the mention of this person.
"Dolores Umbridge. She's a blood purist, bigot, racist, throw every awful thing into the mix and you'll fall short. She's Fudge's undersecretary, and there are rumours that she might be more, I don't believe why Fudge would agree though. I'd rather stay a virgin my entire life than tap that," Tonks shuddered.
"She's certainly in the position of power to do some serious damage then," he muttered with a frown.
"She's awful. More than half of the bigoted laws that have been passed since Fudge became minister have been pushed by her."
"I see," he muttered, as the elevator dinged, signalling that they had reached Level 10.
"Act up," Kingsley whispered, and Tonks grabbed his cuffs and roughly pulled him forward. Harry followed the trio out of the elevator.
"I didn't know you liked it rough, Tonksie," Harry joked, chuckling when Tonks' hair turned slightly red.
"You have a criminal trial in a few minutes and you're making sexual jokes on me. You're truly mental, Potter," she shook her head in annoyance and Harry grinned.
"I'll send for you when you're called," Kingsley muttered, giving him a nod before walking inside the courtroom.
"Courtroom 10," Harry read, and Tonks gave a derisive scoff.
"The most awful criminals are tried in there. That moron is surely intending to send a message."
"Let him," Harry said in a steely voice, and Tonks turned to look at him.
Harry looked at her and chuckled.
"The moron's days are numbered anyway. I'll give him one year max until he's ousted due to his own incompetence."
XXXXX
The courtroom was filled to the brim with the members of the Wizengamot, higher-ranked ministry officials, and reporters from various media publications, all of them looking forward to what was possibly the most high-profile trial in their memories.
Harry Potter, the boy who lived who had evolved into the boy who lied had become an influential public figure before he could speak coherently. The same person was now suspected of the murder of a young muggle boy. A large number of people attending the trial couldn't believe the minister's words the day before, but they didn't know the boy personally. They had no way to verify whether there was any truth to the accusation or not, but one thing was for sure, after the character assassination they all had seen over the summer, a lot of them were feeling as if the minister was trying to silence the boy.
Not that they had any intention of going out of their way to save him. After all, if it didn't affect them personally, they didn't see any need in making unnecessary enemies out of someone in power. And right now, it was Cornelius Fudge who held the seat of power.
Another fact that remained was that Potter was the last of his house, and if he happened to die, there was no one to come after them just because they didn't help him out.
The courtroom had been divided into various sections, each hosting a different class of people. A separate section had been set apart for the media, while the winners of the Order of Merlin and the Wizengamot members belonging to different factions were seated as per their allegiances.
The minister and the head of the DMLE had their place on either side of Chief Warlock, who was supposed to preside over the case.
All the members took their seats when the herald released a loud bang, and the door to the side opened. Everyone stood up as the current Chief Warlock, Lord Tiberius Ogden of the Neutral faction walked in. Once the veteran politician had taken his seat, he gestured for everyone to sit and looked up.
"Honorary members of the Wizengamot, the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, esteemed ministry officials, and the members of the press," Chief Warlock Ogden began," today we have gathered here to pass judgement on a member of the British Wizarding society for the murder of a muggle child. Bring in the accused," he finished, looking over at where the auror was standing.
Kingsley looked up from where he was standing and nodded, before exiting the room. A few seconds later, he entered with the subject of everyone's interest.
Harry Potter looked around to see a courtroom filled to the brim. He took in the various members seated before his eyes locked with Dumbledore. The old headmaster gave him a small nod.
He felt pulled forward until he was made to sit down on the iron chair in the middle of the room. He saw Tonks give him an apologetic grimace and knew what it was for. The chains came to life and he felt them wrap around his limbs tightly.
He looked up and saw the sick grin on Fudge's face and glared, smiling internally in satisfaction when the man flinched slightly.
"Now that the accused is here, we can begin," Chief Warlock began, and Harry turned to look at him.
Tiberius Ogden. He knew about him. An old man who had built up most of the fortune of the Ancient House of Ogden through his alcohol industry. The man was one of integrity; a trait quite rare these days, Harry thought.
"Commencing the case of the British Ministry for Magic versus Heir Harry James Potter of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. The offence includes the murder of a muggle, Piers Polkiss. Jury: Lord Tiberius Archibald Ogden of the Ancient House of Ogden, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot; Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Lady Amelia Susan Bones of the Noble House of Bones, the Director of the British Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Elected Jury members: From the Progressive faction, Lady Augusta Longbottom of the Ancient House of Longbottom; From the Conservative faction, Lord Lucius Malfoy of the Noble House of Malfoy; From the Neutral faction, Lord Cyrus Greengrass of the Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass. Court Scribe: Percy Ignatius Weasley," Ogden pronounced.
Harry looked at the jury bench consisting of the elected representatives. He knew Lady Longbottom, a very strict woman who had lost her son and daughter-in-law in the previous war, leaving her alone to raise her grandson, Neville. The slimeball, the blonde ponce, on the other hand, needed no introduction. It was the third man he focused on. The man was tall, with blonde hair and icy blue eyes that were trained on him. However, what confused him was the small smile the man was giving him. He recalled the man having two daughters in Hogwarts, both in Slytherin, and as far as he knew, he had never interacted with his daughters at Hogwarts. Breaking his stare, his eyes focused on the lanky redheaded figure seated at the front bench, a stack of parchment in front of him, and he sneered at the man who had turned his back on his family just to suck up some ministerial ass.
"Witness for the defence, Heir Harry James Potter-Black, of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter and the Ancient and Noble House of Black," Harry called out in a loud voice.
A sudden chill coursed through the entire chamber, eyes widening as they stared at the smirking visage of the man sitting in the iron chair in the middle of the courtroom. Cameras flashed furiously as reporters scrabbled on their notepads, seemingly soaking up the first big revelation of the trial.
"Mr. Potter seems to be under the delusion that he is the heir to two Most Ancient and Noble Houses, and the house of Black, no less. Perhaps we need to add another charge to the already open list of charges. Attempted line theft, I think, it is called," the slimy voice of Lucius Malfoy came from near the left wing of the courtroom, where he was sitting on the long jury bench.
"That is Heir Potter-Black to you, Lord Malfoy. Please make sure to maintain the decorum of this auspicious body and not treat it as your personal plaything. This kind of grave misstep in etiquette is something beneath a man of your standing, as I am sure your wife, a daughter of my house, would not be remiss in making you aware of once she gets to know about it. Furthermore, I have to assume that you have failed to do your due diligence before coming to this trial. Had you done so, you would have found the official declaration in a recognized national gazette that I am the heir to the Potters and the Blacks. Assuming you are simply incompetent at your work and mean no disrespect, I am willing to let this slide. However, be mindful in the future. I will not be so lenient the second time."
Mouths hung open inside the chamber as everyone looked at this young man verbally tearing Lucius Malfoy a new one. The Progressives and the Neutrals were sporting wide grins while the left wing of the courtroom was seething.
Malfoy glared at him with utter loathing.
"Lies! There has been no declaration in the Prophet. The heirship of House Black rests with the last male descendant bearing the blood of the Blacks. My son Draco is the heir of the Blacks."
"It seems you have failed in your research so thoroughly that you cannot separate delusion from reality. My great-grandmother, Lady Dorea Potter was born Dorea Black, the sister of the late Lord Arcturus Black, giving me precedence in the family tree over your son. Furthermore, I never said the declaration was made in the Daily Prophet. After all, there are several publications recognized as National Gazette, including The Quibbler," he smirked.
Sirius was grinning as he saw his godson tear slimy Lucy a new asshole. It had taken him a lot of effort, but finally, he had been able to convince Harry to accept the position of the heir of the Blacks. The biggest obstacle was the fact that now Harry was bound to have two wives if both houses were to continue, something he was vehemently against. Sirius understood where his godson was coming from. It had taken him and Dumbledore all they had to convince Harry to understand that sometimes they had to put their duty over their wants. The fact that he was the heir to two Ancient and Noble houses would carry a lot of weight in the trial and beyond.
He had also informed Harry that the lordship would go to Draco Malfoy if he didn't accept it, and it didn't take long for Harry to imagine what abuse of power Malfoy could undertake if given access to the lordship of the Blacks.
Sirius told him that he was going to make him his heir sooner rather than later. This trial only pushed the date forward.
Harry had shown impeccable maturity and accepted it, understanding his duty, and Sirius had signed the official declaration the previous night in Dumbledore's office and sent it for the announcement before the morning edition of The Quibbler had been printed.
He knew not many people read the publication, and that it was still a registered news outlet recognized as a part of the National Gazette.
It felt fulfilling to see their plan coming along.
He was brought out of his musings when his godson's voice rang throughout the courtroom once again.
"Now. I am not responsible for your incompetence, Lord Malfoy. I already looked over your first offence, and you threw it on my face. No matter. We will deal with it after this trial is over."
Lucius glared at Harry before looking at where Black was sitting. His anger grew when he saw the mutt wink at him.
Fudge looked at Lucius with nervousness. This trial had gone off the rails from the very first moment. He had deliberately made sure to delay informing Potter that the trial would be moved up, yet the brat had shown up in time. Then Ogden decided to show up, taking away his chance at the position of the judge. And now, Potter had revealed that he was the heir to not one, but two Ancient and Noble houses. He could already see a few Wizengamot members looking at the young man with slight apprehension, and his worries only grew.
Tiberius Ogden was internally laughing. It had been a brilliant decision to come to this trial. The Potter boy had created second thoughts in the minds of a huge chunk of the Wizengamot with this simple stunt already. Although he was surprised as well. He had not seen that announcement either, but then, he didn't read any publication anyway. Potter and Black, he thought. Now every member would think twice before voting against him, knowing that Potter was no more only an ally of the Blacks, but was a member of the family and its future lord himself. Although their power had waned in recent years, no one wanted to make an enemy out of those two houses. Anyone who might have overlooked Potter because he was the last of his house would now think twice since House Black was directly involved.
He also knew that the boy was innocent, Dumbledore had taken an oath in front of him after all. That had been the biggest reason why he decided to head this trial. If Fudge was given free rein, he would've concocted some cock and bull story and somehow punished the young man.
He cursed Fudge and the dirty politics he was playing, but above that, he was looking forward to how this trial would change the landscape of British politics going forward.
Cyrus Greengrass could barely hold his grin at the revelation. Harry Potter held two lordships. Now his name was all but guaranteed to be cleared, given what he knew was about to happen. He looked around the area he usually sat in and met the eyes of his friend Jonathan Davis, who gave him a discreet nod. No one would dare to make an enemy out of powerful families.
Fudge had really overreached this time, and he was looking forward to seeing him getting a smackdown from the young man down there. He looked at the seething face of Lucius Malfoy and chuckled internally. The asshole had the audacity to ask for both of his daughters to marry his spoiled brat of a son. Cyrus had rebuffed him at every opportunity, neither interested in lowering himself to be related to the Malfoys of all people nor cruel enough to subject his daughters to that devil spawn. Things had been frosty between the two families since then.
Malfoy had even tried to entice him by promising to put in favourable words with the Dark Lord, who all of them knew had returned, and Cyrus had told him in no uncertain terms that he had no intention of ever joining them. Lucius had gone, but he knew he would be back. The Greengrass family and its resources were too lucrative to be turned away so easily.
But now, Cyrus had the perfect candidate to throw his support with, one he had been thinking of for quite some time. And given what he had seen of the young man so far, he knew he wouldn't be disappointed with this alliance.
'I'll fulfil your wish, grandfather. The Greengrasses will stand with The Potters and The Blacks once again, and who knows, maybe they'd be closer than ever this time,' Cyrus thought, looking down at the young man seated on the iron chair with a relaxed smile on his face.
Oh, he was so looking forward to showing the memory of this trial to his daughter.
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