A small smile graced Harry's features as he observed the people standing at the bottom of the staircase. Tonks was there, as were Mad-Eye Moody, Professor Lupin, and Hestia. Harry did not know any of the others, but he swore he had run into a few of them once or twice.
"Y-You look," stuttered Tonks, her hair turning red, "You look good."
"Now is not the time, Nymphadora." snapped Mad-Eye, ignoring the way Tonks's hair suddenly flashed dangerously, "You sure it's him?"
"Fairly certain." said Hestia, "But, just to be sure - Harry, when did we meet?"
"That time when Madam Bones gave some speech at the beginning of the year."
"About?"
"Er - safety?" guessed Harry, wincing slightly whilst inwardly cursing his lack of attentiveness at the time.
Hestia smiled.
"Yup, that's him." she said surely, turning to Mad-Eye. Moody's real eye narrowed slightly, landing upon Harry's hands.
"Where's your wand?" asked Moody gruffly.
"I don't have one. I haven't since last June."
The jaws of almost everyone in the hallway dropped. A large (and quite disturbing) smile formed upon Moody's heavily scarred face as he chuckled softly, shaking his head.
"Fudge's going to love that." said Moody happily, "That'll be a bludger to the face, that will."
"Are you sure you don't have a wand?" questioned Tonks as she made her way towards Harry.
"I have this." said Harry, pulling out the remains of his old wand, "But that's it."
Tonks carefully took the remains from his, observing them carefully.
"Does anyone else know what happened to your wand?" asked Tonks.
"Dumbledore." replied Harry, "Krum and Fl - Delacour as well. Mr. and Mrs. Diggory too, and Madam Pomfrey. Maybe a few others."
"I heard something about it." muttered Tonks quietly, "During the end of the third task, I mean. But I thought they were just rumours . . ."
"Doesn't matter." said Moody, "It works in our favour, you can get a new wand before you get back to school anyway. Right now you need to get your stuff ready - we'll be leaving in fifteen."
"What?" questioned Harry loudly, "Where are we going?"
"You'll see when we get there." said Moody cryptically, "We'll be taking brooms - you're still too young to apparate, we can't safely use the Floo Network, and we'd be fools to try and set up an unauthorized portkey in a muggle area."
"It shouldn't be a problem for you." said Kingsley, a dark skinned wizard in the back, "We saw you during the first task, you should be fine."
"Alright." said Harry, "I'm going to go pack then."
"Hurry up then." said Moody, "Jones, Tonks, help him - we haven't got much time."
Hestia and Tonks quickly nodded, following Harry up the stairs and into his room. The moment they were inside Hestia and Tonks both wrapped their arms around him.
"Are you alright?" asked Hestia hurriedly as she looked him over, "You're always getting hurt, you sure that you're fine?"
"I'm sure." said Harry exasperatedly, "Honestly, Tonks gets herself hurt more often than I do - she was the one who crashed into something earlier, right?"
"Yup." said Hestia with a smile, ignoring the indignant expression on Tonk's face, "But nevermind that - Moody's right, we really ought to hurry up."
The three of them hastily turned their attention to Harry's room. It was certainly a stark contrast to the rest of the house; books were lying upon the floor, empty ink bottles and quills to be found every few feet. Harry had meant to clean it all up - mainly due to Fleur's insistence - but had not gotten to it. He had mostly forgotten about it after the meeting with the dementors several weeks ago.
"All ready then?" asked Tonks as Harry stuffed the last of his belongings into his trunk, "Right, let's get down then."
The trio quickly made their way down, the trunk held carefully in Harry's arm.
"Hurry up!" barked Moody as they made their way towards the front door, "We've got about a minute left. Come here, quickly now!"
Harry hastily made his way over to the ex-auror, allowing the man to cover him with a Disillusionment Charm.
Fleur's are better.
"Right." said Lupin, facing the general direction where Harry stood, "I've left a letter for your relatives about what's happened, and I've told them you'll be back next summer. Is there anything else of importance?"
"Nope."
"Then we'd better get going."
The group quickly made their way out of the house. Harry paused slightly, listening carefully as Mad-Eye addressed the group.
"- a very important operation, we can not afford to mess this up." said Moody harshly, "Stay in the ranks we went over, Potter's safety is our number one priority. Dumbledore doesn't think there's going to be Death Eater interference, but even he can be wrong. If one of us does get killed, keep flying - the rear guard will deal with them."
Moody turned to Harry, his magical eye twitching madly in its socket.
"You worry about keeping yourself safe, understood?" questioned the man, "You're the one they'll be after, not us. In the eyes of the mission, we're expendable, and you're not - so you don't go trying to save us, alright?"
"Nice one Moody." muttered Tonks sarcastically as she secured Harry's trunk to her broom, "We love being told we're expendable, puts a smile on our faces -"
"That's our first signal." interrupted Lupin, his pointer finger directed towards the sky.
High above them, a series of red sparks lit up the night sky. Harry turned back to his firebolt, quickly adjusting himself as he sat upon it.
"That's the second one, let's go!" barked Moody as the sky above them suddenly lit up green.
Harry pushed off the earthen soil, a happy smile gracing his features as he finally returned to the skies. Privet Drive slowly became but a speck upon the ground as the group flew further and further away.
"Everyone good?" asked Moody once they had reached a comfortable altitude, "Right then, forward!"
Onwards they flew, gracefully making their way towards wherever it was they were going. From what Harry had managed to put together, the place had something to do with the Order of the Phoenix - the headquarters, perhaps. That would certainly be a welcome destination; more information most certainly wouldn't hurt Harry in the slightest.
"Come on now, we're nearly there!" yelled Moody a half hour later.
Harry looked up, doing his best to observe their surroundings (regardless of the night sky that surrounded them). As far as he could tell, they were still in the muggle world. In fact, the streets were bright with life and light in a manner Harry had only ever seen in one place.
We're in muggle London.
"Get ready for descent!" yelled Lupin, "Formations! Harry, stick with Tonks!"
The group dived downwards, each witch and wizard only a few feet away from the chimneys that littered the roofs of each home. Harry swiftly touched down upon a particularly dry patch of grass, hastily lifting his leg over the end of his broom.
"Where are we?" questioned Harry with interest as he looked around.
The buildings that surrounded them were all identical in design. They were all made of bricks, each seemingly just as well cared for as the one to the left. There was an error with the house numbering, Harry noticed, for there was no number twelve; the houses simply jumped from eleven to thirteen.
Laughter and yells could be heard from each of the buildings, screams of joy audible to the ears as dozens of families ate their dinner. Harry turned away, no longer as excited as he had been moments ago.
"One second." muttered Moody as he pulled a strange silver instrument from his pocket.
Click.
The light from the streetlamps that surrounded them suddenly faded away, encasing the group in darkness. Moody returned the object to his pocket, now pulling out a piece of parchment instead.
"Read that quickly, and memorize it."
Harry turned his eyes towards the outstretched parchment, reading it carefully.
'The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.'
Harry looked up, his eyes widening as he did so. There was a new house now, one that had suddenly appeared between numbers eleven and thirteen.
Number twelve was quite unremarkable, if Harry was being honest. It looked identical to its neighbors: brick built, a dark roof and door, and white concrete that made up the walls of the first floor.
"See it now?" asked Lupin quickly, "Alright, let's go."
Moody and Lupin lead Harry towards the building, the latter carefully observing his surroundings. He stopped as they reached the door, watching as Moody tapped against it impatiently with his wand. The door slowly creaked open, allowing them entry.
After a quick warning not to touch anything, Harry made his way inside. Everything about the house, Harry quickly realized, was old; the wallpaper was peeling, the lamps were old fashioned and the wooden furnishings were all rotten. To the side sat a number of portraits, each hanging crookedly upon the walls.
Harry ducked to avoid the cobwebs that hung from the chandelier overhead, wincing as Hestia bumped into him from behind.
"Here you are." said Moody, quickly removing the Disillusionment Charm from Harry. He and Lupin both turned to face Harry.
"There's a meeting in progress at the moment." explained Lupin, continuing before Harry could interrupt him, "Since you're underage, you're not allowed. You can have breakfast with the others in a few hours, but for now you need to get some sleep."
"Last door on the third floor." Tonks added from somewhere behind him, "We've already cleaned it out, there shouldn't be anything too bad up there. Avoid the library, by the way - we've got no idea what sort of nasty curses are up there. Besides, Sirius' mum has a portrait frame up there as well, and she's not pleasant."
Harry nodded, slowly making his way up the many stairs and towards his bedroom. He passed by the library slowly, trying to observe as much as he could without actually entering (or being potentially spotted by any angry portraits). He would make it his summer project to try and find a safe way into the library, he silently decided. The knowledge that the Blacks possesed would likely be immensely valuable, and no doubt immensely useful.
Harry arrived within his bedroom moments later, allowing himself to slowly sink into his new bed. He was asleep the moment his head met the pillow.
The days that passed by at number twelve, Grimmauld Place were interesting to say the least.
Reuniting with Sirius had certainly been one of the highlights; the man's personality had barely changed over the course of the past year, although his physical features certainly had. He looked much better now; his cheeks were no longer gaunt, his hair no longer lengthy and his skin no longer covered in dirt.
Seeing the Weasleys and Hermione, however, had been a much more subdued affair. Ron had gone out of his way to avoid Harry, something that was not particularly difficult considering how much of his time Harry spent on the third floor (for he was the only one who had a room there).
Hermione, on the other hand, chose to simply treat Harry as though he were just another occupant of the house. She only spoke to him when absolutely necessary, and treated him kindly and respectfully. In fact, if an outsider were to gaze upon their interactions, they would immediately consider the two to be strangers. The only thing that indicated otherwise were Hermione's eyes; even without Legilimency, Harry could read her like a book.
Harry was grateful that the rest of the Weasleys treated him just as they always had. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were just as kind as ever (although the latter did seem a tad bit distant), whilst the Weasley twins were just as troublesome as ever. Not that Harry minded; it was thanks to them that Harry finally had something to look forward to, after all.
As it turned out, the Weasley twins had invented a means of listening in on the meetings held by the Order of the Phoenix (unwittingly aided by Sirius, who found their many inventions to be quite amusing). The two of them, along with Harry, would slowly lower a pair of Extendable Ears to the door of the meeting room, listening to whatever it was that the order members spoke of. The majority of it was rather dull, but Harry had heard one thing in particular that he found rather useful.
Harry had noticed that his stay at Grimmauld Place had usually involved being around at least one adult. Sometimes it was Tonks, sometimes Hestia, sometimes Mr. or Mrs. Weasley, and sometimes someone else. Regardless, he was only ever alone when he was in his room.
According to what Harry had overheard during the last meeting, that was done on purpose. The Order of the Phoenix were keeping their eye on him, making sure that he did not do anything reckless while he awaited his hearing. They would continue watching him until his hearing, after which they would finally leave him free to his own devices.
In other words, Harry would finally be able to sneak off and see Fleur after the hearing had concluded.
With little else to do until then, Harry spent the majority of his time observing the Black library. He had nearly been spotted by the portrait of Sirius' mum (Walburga, according to the family tapestry on the first floor) several times now. Thankfully, the woman spent the majority of her time in the portrait downstairs, yelling angrily at everyone who passed.
Besides the portrait, however, Harry could find nothing particularly dangerous. Still, there was only so much he could uncover with wandless magic at the moment. He would not be exploring further until he had retrieved his wand.
After all, dying in a library would be a poor way to go out.
"Be brave." whispered the angelic women, love and affection emanating off her in waves, "Be strong -"
"Harry, get up!"
Harry groggily opened his eyes, gently pushing the sheets away from his torso.
"Whuzzamatter?"
"Your trial's today, remember?" Tonks reminded him, "You've got to be awake extra early, just in case."
Harry nodded slowly, getting up from the comfortable confines of his bed. The sky was still dark, the moonlight shining bright against the shadows of the night. Harry slowly made his way out of his bedroom, making his way towards the third floor bathroom.
" - yes, misses, Kreacher won't!" came a voice from the library, causing Harry to pause slightly.
The sound of soft footsteps slowly grew louder - clearly someone was making their way out of the library. Harry felt around with his magic, familiarizing himself with his surroundings. He braced himself, only relaxing when he saw a particularly grouchy looking house elf exit the library.
The elf looked at Harry for a moment before turning away, muttering darkly to itself. Harry shook his head, continuing on his way towards the bathroom. It was not the first time he had heard noises from the library, after all. It wasn't particularly hard to hear the racket Sirius' mum caused, especially considering he was the only one who slept on the third floor.
A half hour later, Harry finally made his way downstairs. He was adorned in elegant wizarding robes, coloured black - robes which were provided for him by Sirius. He would have to look and act rather formal today; it would be unwise to do anything else at a hearing.
Which could end up being a problem; Salazar antics have seriously started to rub off on me.
All in all, Harry was not particularly looking forward to the trial. He would likely have to employ the majority of his Occlumency in order to keep from speaking more than he should.
Even then, that was not a foolproof solution. He and Fleur had quickly realized that although Occlumency were more than capable of masking their emotions, they could easily be brought down if someone wanted to express their emotions. If Harry (or anyone else, for that matter) geunielly wished to speak their mind, their grasp on their Occlumency would slowly fade away.
The dining table downstairs seated many occupants, each of them tiredly drinking from their respective cups of tea. Sirius, Tonks, Hestia, Lupin, Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley were all seated around the table, watching as Harry made their way towards them.
"Looking good." said Sirius tiredly as Harry approached the table. Tonks muttered something along similar lines, as did Hestia. Harry grinned at them as he sat down upon one of the empty chairs, quietly thanking Mrs. Weasley as she lowered a piece of sausage onto his plate.
Harry ate mostly in silence, listening as Sirius unsuccessfully attempted to bring up everyone's mood.
"Cheer up, you're sure to win this." said Sirius, "It's blatantly obvious that it's all a set up."
"It doesn't matter how obvious it is." said Lupin solemnly from the other side of the table, "If they win, they win, and if they lose -"
"Then they cover it all up, yes, I'm aware." muttered Sirius in annoyance, "My mother would be proud of them, she would."
"Still," Sirius continued, his voice somewhat lighter, "After this, you're free. That makes one of us. Thank Merlin."
Harry's eyes widened, a horrible realization coming to the forefront of his mind.
"Sirius," Harry begun guiltily, "You do know that Wormtail's -"
"- dead?" Sirius finished for him, "Yeah, we know."
"Snape's been spying for the order." revealed Tonks upon noticing Harry's confused expression, "He told us that Pettigrew and Crabbe were killed that night, although he wasn't told how."
"So he says, anyway." added Sirius darkly.
Harry's eyes widened slightly as he forced himself to look away.
Crabbe . . .
So that was the name of the Death Eater whom he had killed during the night of the third task. Truthfully, Harry felt very little pain or guilt over the occurrence. He had done what was necessary, and he knew it - there was no point in worrying over what had happened long ago.
Another, somewhat smaller part of Harry felt a sliver of remorse, though it was not for the Death Eater. No, that was for Crabbe Jr., the boy he went to school with. Although Harry could not say he particularly liked the boy, no one deserved to lose a parent at such a young age.
"But what'll you do then?" asked Harry, trying unsuccessfully to squash the guilt that coursed through him, "There's no way the ministry's going to let you walk free, not without Pettigrew."
"Veritaserum works." added Hestia with a bit of hope, "It's allowed to be used in most cases."
"Not in cases like this." said Sirius bitterly, "It can be fought off with Occlumency, or with the proper antidote."
"Occlumency?" asked Tonks curiously.
"Art of clearing the mind and protecting it from others." Sirius replied, "My grandfather tried to teach it to my brother and I - and your mum and her sister, I think. Only Bellatrix learnt anything, no one else really cared. She's one of the few masters of Occlumency in the world, I think. That's how she stayed sane in Azkaban - well, how she didn't become any more insane, anyway."
"Sounds interesting." said Tonks, "I'll have to look into it. Might be useful, you know."
Sirius yawned slightly, stifling his breath with his hand before shaking his head.
"No point." said Sirius, "It's a dying art, barely anyone alive knows about it anymore. Plus, old Arcturus - my grandfather, that is - told us it takes about a half dozen months for the average person to properly learn, and at least five hours each day."
Tonks flinched slightly.
"That's a bit too much." she said softly, "I don't have that kind of time on my hands."
The table quieted for a bit, allowing for Harry to eat his food in a relative state of silence. Harry finished his meal a few minutes later, carefully moving his plate over to the sink.
When he had made his way back to the table he found Tonks and Hestia hunched over an article of the Daily Prophet, each fuming silently as they read.
"Absolute wankers." Tonks muttered as she threw the article into the bin beside her, "Absolute, complete wankers."
"Ready to go?" asked Mr. Weasley kindly, his eyes on Harry.
The man was sitting at the table with his wife, finishing up a cup of tea. He wore somewhat nice (albeit quite noticeably cheap) robes. Harry nodded slowly, watching as the man stood up and moved his now empty cup over to the sink with a muttered incantation and a flick of his wand.
"We'd better get going then." said Mr. Weasley, "Your hearing's on my floor, in Amelia Bones' office."
"Amelia Bones?" asked Harry suddenly, "Will she be the one questioning me?"
"Yes, I do believe so."
Harry smiled softly, his head tilted towards the floor. As far as he knew, she was quite fair. She seemed a bit like McGonagall if anything, judging by the way she had acted during her speech at Hogwarts the previous year.
"Nice weather out." said Mr. Weasley a half hour later as he and Harry stepped out from number twelve, Grimmauld Place.
He was right, of course. Despite it being the crack of dawn, the weather was quite nice by most standards. Not a cloud in the sky, and not the slightest bit of wind.
To Harry, however, it was rather unpleasant. He preferred the skies to be white, and perhaps a touch of wind in the sky. Maybe a light sprinkle as well.
I'll have to move when I'm older.
An image made its way into his mind, depicting a rather appealing vision of himself and Fleur standing before a small cottage on a cliff by the sea. As alluring as the image admittedly was, Harry moved it to the side - although he made sure not to eradicate it from his mind.
It's quite nice, after all.
Harry shook his head, jogging to catch up with Mr. Weasley's brisk pace.
The pair shortly made their way to the London underground, the younger of the two having to stop the other from getting distracted. As it turned out, Mr. Weasley was still just as fascinated by muggle objects as ever.
"Absolutely fascinating." said Mr. Weasley loudly as he watched the automatic doors of their subway car close, "They just close - like that! Marvelous, just like magic!"
Harry nodded vigorously, hoping silently that Mr. Weasley would quiet down. If his memory served correctly, most people would not appreciate a particularly loud passenger on a train - especially not this early in the morning.
The two of them got off the underground train just short of an hour later, at which point Mr. Weasley began to quickly lead Harry towards the exit in an overly excited fashion.
"Alright, just a little bit further . . . excellent!"
Harry stopped, his eyes landing upon the heavily graffitied telephone box that stood before them. He watched as Mr. Weasley opened the door, holding it open for Harry to enter. Harry quickly followed the man into the box, watching as Mr. Weasley began fiddling around with the telephone dial.
"Let me see . . . six . . . two . . . four . . . four . . . two. That should do it."
Harry suddenly looked up as the sound of a feminine voice met his ears.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."
"That'd be Arthur Weasley," said Mr. Weasley somewhat nervously, "from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, here to escort Harry Potter to his disciplinary hearing."
"Thank you." said the voice, "Visitor, please take your badge and attach it to the front of your robes."
Clink.
Harry turned to the coin slot, watching as Mr. Weasley picked up what appeared to be a badge. Harry took the badge from the man, reading it quickly.
'Harry Potter, Disciplinary Hearing'
Fleur's never going to let me live this one down.
Harry hastily pinned the badge to the front of his robes before looking up as the voice continued to speak.
"Visitors are required to submit their wands for registration at the security desk. The security desk can be found at the far end of the Atrium."
The ground underneath them shook, the telephone box around them sinking within it. They continued in their slow descent for a moment before the box eventually stopped.
"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day." said the voice.
The door of the telephone box swung open, revealing to Harry a scene similar to that of his first visit to Diagon Alley, or perhaps his first time at Hogwarts.
The hall was the largest Harry had ever been in, the majority of it coloured black with a bit of gold to compliment it. The ceiling itself was covered in designs - far too many for Harry's mind to properly comprehend. Every few feet along each of the longer walls of the hall was a fireplace, many of which currently in use by witches and wizards making their way to work.
Even at such an early time of day, the hall was nearly filled to the brim. Harry was nearly swept away the moment he stepped out from the telephone box, as was Mr. Weasley.
"Right, this way Harry!" said Mr. Weasley, grabbing a hold of Harry's hand and leading him through the crowd.
As the pair continued on, more and more of the ministry became visible. A large fountain stood halfway down the hall. Several golden statues stood within it, each of them at least a dozen feet tall.
The largest and centermost statue was that of a rather handsome wizard, his wand pointed up in an impressive manner. By his side was an admittedly beautiful witch. Her arms were wrapped around the wizard, her wand held tightly within her right palm.
Beneath the pair stood a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf, each gazing at the pair with pure adoration and affection.
I bet the centaurs and the goblins love that.
Harry had admittedly limited experience with both, but if the former were anything like Bane, his guess would be correct. As for goblins - well, if he were wrong, he would be more than willing to dump a thousand galleons into the fountain.
Harry turned away, his eyes glancing over the number of businesses that he could spot from where he stood. A number of small booths could be seen, many of which were selling all sorts of strange objects.
One booth seemed quite similar in appearance to a muggle cafe. Harry made a mental note to order some food after the hearing. Despite eating earlier in the morning, he was still feeling rather hungry.
"Ah, here we are!" said Arthur a few moments later as they approached a booth near the end of the hall labeled 'Security'.
A balding man sat lazily upon his stool, lowering his issue of the Daily Prophet as Harry and Mr. Weasley approached.
"Wand?" grunted the man, pulling out a strange instrument similar to the ones in Ollivander's shop.
"Er," began Harry, turning to Mr. Weasley, "Here."
He hastily pulled out the remnants of his old wand, handing towards the balding man.
"Is this some sort of joke?" asked the man, his eyes narrowing as Harry shook his head.
The man ducked down, rummaging through a pile of strange objects before pulling out another metal instrument. He held it out in front of Harry, waving it hurriedly over Harry's body. The instrument shuddered for a few minutes before glowing red.
"Right." said the man, writing something down on a spare bit of parchment, "I suppose you can have this back."
The man held the wand out towards Harry, his eyes properly examining Harry for the first time. They widened drastically, his body stiffening slightly.
"Well, we'd better get going." said Mr. Weasley, "Thank you, Eric."
Mr. Weasley led Harry through the crowd once more, the pair shortly arriving at an already packed lift. The witches and wizards inside all stiffened as Harry entered, though the boy paid them no mind. He instead zoned out, watching as the ministry workers departed from the lift at their respective floors.
"Level two," began a voice, one identical to the one in the telephone box, "Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services."
Mr. Weasley and Harry exited the lift, continuing on their journey to the former's office.
"Your hearing is set for a few hours from now." said Mr. Weasley as he and Harry sat themselves down within the small, rather neglected office, "And the courtroom is less than a minute's walk away. Just relax, that's all."
They sat within the cubicle for nearly ten minutes before their peace was disturbed.
"Arthur!" yelled a rather old wizard as the rickety door of Mr. Weasley's office swung wildly open, "Arthur, he's got to go, he's got to go -"
"What are you on about, Perkins?" asked Mr. Weasley.
"The boy, his hearing!" replied the man, "The time's been changed, and the venue! It's eight o'clock now, and it's down in Courtroom Ten!"
Harry swore under his breath, hastily getting to his feet as Mr. Weasley's eyes widened.
I should have known.
"Courtroom Ten!" exclaimed Mr. Weasley, "But that's below the Atrium! It's already three past eight! Harry, we need to go!"
He quickly thanked the old man before grabbing Harry firmly by the arm and running towards the lift.
"Atrium?" questioned Harry as they ran, "What's the Atrium?"
"Main Hall." explained Mr. Weasley hurriedly, "Like what the Great Hall is for Hogwarts, kind of. It's on the other side of the ministry."
The pair practically bolted into the lift, waiting impatiently as it lowered them to the proper floor.
"Go on," panted Mr. Weasley as they finally arrived at their destination, "I'm not allowed in, go on!"
Harry nodded, employing his occlumency to the best of his ability and stepping through the ornate doorway.
The walls of the large dungeon were made of a dark stone, three of them practically obscured by a number of large wooden benches, each seating nearly a dozen different witches and wizards.
At the middle of the furthest wall stood a raised bench seating a few of what Harry assumed were the more higher ranking officials. Harry recognized Fudge, Madam Bones, and Percy Weasley, although none of them seemed to hold any recognition for him. He did not, however, recognize the woman who sat to the side. She had a faux-sweet expression upon her face, her features not unsimilar to that of a toad's.
The rest of the room was practically bare; only a single empty chair sat at the center of the room, the shadows formed by the many torches falling upon it in a menacing fashion.
"You're late." said Fudge, watching as Harry slowly made his way towards the seat.
"You changed the time."
Fudge shifted slightly in his seat, as did the woman who resembled a toad.
"Your tardiness is not the Wizengamot's fault. An owl was dispatched to you this morning."
Harry calmed himself quietly, taking a seat upon the chair. He placed his wands carefully in his lap, sitting as upright as possible.
"Now that the accused is finally here," said Fudge, looking at Harry with narrowed eyes, "We may finally begin. Weasley, notes, if you please."
Percy nodded frantically, pulling a blank sheet of parchment out from under his desk and dipping his quill into the ink jar before him.
"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," began Fudge, his voice echoing through the dungeon, "into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.
"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Pery Ignatius Weasley."
Fudge turned to Umbridge, who handed him a thin piece of parchment with a girlish smile.
"The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area on two separate occasions, on the evening of the second of August.
"This constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree of the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy. Now, let the questioning begin.
"Is your name Harry James Potter?"
"Yes."
"Do you live at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whining, Surrey?" questioned Fudge as he glared at Harry.
"Yes."
"Three years ago, did you receive an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic?"
"I didn't do anything that time, but you did send a warning, yes."
Fudge scoffed, looking at the members of the Wizengamot that surrounded him as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. The majority of the members, Harry noted, seemed to be thinking in a similar manner. Many of them were rolling their eyes, or perhaps shaking their heads in disbelief.
"You also used magic during your summer holiday two years ago to inflate your aunt, sending her flying above several muggle cities - an event which caused many valuable members of the ministry to work overtime, including every member of the Obliviation Squad." said Fudge harshly, "Or do you wish to deny that as well?"
"No, that was me." Harry admitted, "Thankfully, you granted me a full and complete pardon."
Fudge gritted his teeth.
"And yet you have continued to break the law, regardless of our lenience and our warnings." said Fudge, "Why is that you used a Patronus Charm, Mr. Potter? This is the third of your summer vacations that we have had an incident involving you, is it not?"
"I'm not saying that I used a Patronus Charm," began Harry, continuing quickly as Fudge threw his hands in the air, "But if someone did use it, I'm fairly certain that they would have only one reason to do it."
"And that would be?" said Umbridge in a sweet voice, leaning forward from Fudge's side. Harry turned to face her, fighting against the desire to raise an eyebrow.
"Dementors, obviously."
Umbridge giggled softly, as did a number of the Wizengamot members. It was plain to see that none of them were particularly amused. Fudge smirked nastily, shaking his head.
"I thought we might hear something like this." he said, "How convenient for you, isn't it? Muggles can't see dementors - it would certainly work as a perfect cover story, wouldn't it?"
"So, what, you think people walk around, casting Patronus Charms to protect them from thin air?" questioned Harry.
Fudge quieted, though Umbridge spoke in his place.
"The ministry is under complete control of the dementors, Mr. Potter." said Umbridge.
Then stop sending them after me. I have Riddle to worry about, that should be enough.
Harry, however, remained quiet. Thanks to the calmness that his Occlumency provided him, he knew better than to retort.
"You state that you did not use magic during two of your three offences," noted Madam Bones, "or am I incorrect?"
"You're right."
"That would be the offences predating your second and fifth years at Hogwarts, correct?"
"Correct."
"Please explain the former."
"We have the document." said Fudge, taking a sheet of parchment from Umbridge and handing it to Madam Bones, "The boy used a Hover Charm on a cake, dropping it on the head of a muggle woman."
The members of the Wizengamot muttered quietly amongst one another, their expressions ranging from horror to glee.
"Silence." said Madam Bones sharply, "Mr. Potter?"
"That was a house-elf, actually."
Fudge threw his hands wildly into the air once more, not even bothering to remain formal. A number of those seated amongst the other benches had similar reactions, a few even laughing at the answer provided.
"He works at Hogwarts now." added Harry, "I can call him, if you like."
The members of the Wizengamot quieted significantly.
"We haven't got time to listen to house elves." snapped Fudge impatiently.
"You asked for evidence." said Harry dully, "If you want evidence, he can give it to you."
Madam Bones pulled out a spare piece of parchment, quickly jotting something down. She sealed up the parchment, handing it to the middle-aged woman that sat behind her.
"We will be investigating your claims further." said Madam Bones, "Should they prove to be true, no legal action can or will be taken against you or the house elf. House elves are not listed under the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy."
Harry nodded slowly, watching as Fudge's palm balled into a fist.
"What of the offence linked to this summer?" asked Madam Bones, pulling out another piece of parchment.
"Yes, I'd like to hear this one." said Fudge nastily, "Who used the Patronus Charm, a goblin?"
"Maybe, but it wasn't me." lied Harry, "I can't have."
"Oho!" said Fudge, "Is that so? And why is that?"
"The Patronus Charm is not something taught at Hogwarts." noted Madam Bones, "Nor can instructions on its casting be found within any published, legal book, as coincidence would have it. One would be very hard pressed to gain information on how to cast it."
Madam Bones turned towards Harry, a questioning glance upon her face.
"Oh, er - I was taught by one of my teachers during my third year." explained Harry, not wanting to lie about something so unnecessary, "I had a bad reaction to dementors, so he taught me."
"Impressive." said Madam Bones quietly, "Very impressive."
"That matters little." said Fudge angrily, "It simply means that the boy is capable of using the Patronus Charm. So, Mr. Potter, tell us why you can't have been the one to cast it!"
"Because I don't have a working wand." said Harry, using Occlumency to reinforce the lie, "My old wand snapped during the third task last year."
The silence that fell was practically audible despite the sudden lack of noise.
"W-what?" sputtered Fudge, his face paling rapidly, "Of course you have -"
Harry put his hand into the pocket of his robes, pulling out the remains of his old wand. He held it up for Fudge to see, the man's eyes wide with both surprise and horror.
"P-preposterous!" exclaimed Fudge, though his voice lacked conviction, "He m-must've broken it over the summer!"
Umbridge (who had a reaction similar to Fudge) recovered herself, nodding alongside the Minister.
"You could have easily snapped it at any time during the summer." said the toad-like woman, her voice shrill.
"Well, it broke during the fight with Voldermort." declared Harry stubbornly, "His Death Eaters were all watching though, I can give you their names if you'd like -"
"Enough!" roared Fudge.
The Minister stood up, leaning over his desk as he faced Harry. The courtroom was deathly quiet now, the only audible sound being the deep intakes of Fudge's breaths.
"He," seethed Fudge, his voice quiet yet angry, "is not back!"
"He is." repeated Harry stubbornly, "But I don't care if you're too blind to see it. I want to live, and that's what I'm going to do. If you want to die, that's fine by me."
Fudge glared at Harry, his breathing still erratic. The members of the Wizengamot were all whispering to their neighbors now, their speech frantic.
"That is not why we are here today." said Madam Bones, her eyes shining with well hidden curiosity, "Can anyone confirm that your wand was snapped before your summer break?"
"Yes," said Harry, "Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey, the other champions and the Diggorys."
"The Diggorys?" repeated Madam Bones, slowly turning around in her seat to face a familiar looking man a few benches behind her, "Amos, if you will?"
The entire courtroom turned to Amos, watching as the mournful man slowly lifted his head.
"I - yes." said the man, his eyes lacking the happiness they had carried but a few months ago, "Yes, I remember it was cracked during the - the i-interview."
Madam Bones nodded kindly, her eyes filled with sorrow and sympathy. She turned back to Harry, her expression unreadable once more.
"I believe we have seen and heard all that needs to be heard." she said, turning to observe the Wizengamot members that surrounded her, "Those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?"
Harry watched as many hands went up, quickly counting them in his head. After a few seconds, however, he stopped counting, instead choosing to smile softly. Easily more than half of the Wizengamot members had raised their hands (though many certainly did not look pleased about their decision).
"Those in favour of conviction?"
Harry no longer bothered to pay attention, barely even looking up as Fudge and Umbridge raised their hands. He was free, he was in the clear - he had known that would be the case, of course, but there was something about it finally happening that made it so much better.
More importantly than that, however, was that the Order of the Phoenix would no longer spend every waking minute by his side.
I can see Fleur again. And Hedwig. And maybe Salazar, if he doesn't annoy me.
Harry stood from his seat, smiling at Fudge as the man unwillingly delivered the final closing line -
"Cleared of all charges."