The Trial
She’s scared, there are so many people she doesn’t even know what to think. Sitting in one of the dark wood pews between her brother and potions professor she feels hundreds of eyes on her. Courtroom ten is filled to the brim by the surrounding Wizagomat. The sounds of the press yelling and trying to get in echo nearby. The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation of hearing what was to be heard. Vernon Dursley sits restrained in the center of the room, his wife sits in a nearby pew surrounded by wizard protection. If Vernon would beat the children, what's to say he wouldn’t beat his wife? Their son had already been turned over to the muggle authorities and placed with his aunt.
A few Hogwarts professors, Weasley Parents, Malfoys, and Mrs. Figg sit a few pews above the fated siblings. The sound of a gavel thumps through the room, silencing the whispers. Sitting forward, Fudge speaks, his voice magnified throughout the space, “Hello all, we have gathered here today due to a most dastardly act. This man,” he points to Vernon, “Is being accused of beating his children. Now, they are represented by a Mr. Severus Snape, their professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Mr. Snape, what do you have to say?”
The atmosphere is tense as Severus stands tall, black robes billowing behind him. “Members of the Wizengamot,” Severus’ voice booms through the chamber, commanding attention. “I present to you evidence of the egregious abuse suffered by the Potter siblings under the care of the Dursleys.”
Severus gently removes a wisp of memories from Harry’s mind with a soft wand tap. With a flick of his wrist, he sends the memory into the sealed death potion lining the walls. The surface of the black glass ripples before changing. Gasps fill the room at what they see.
Three-year-old Harry sits on the living room floor, he plays with the abandoned truck Dudley throws away with a wail that he hates. As he drives the car, he jumps as it is snatched from his hand. He whines as Dudley holds the truck close to him, reaching out. Harry grabs the car. The two boys pull it back and forth until Dudley ultimately wins. What he wins however is a truck to the face. When Harry let it go, it snapped back and bonked Dudley in the nose. The pudgy baby threw the car down with a wail. His beloved parents rush into the room and Vernon loses it. He begins shouting at Harry, before grabbing him by the arm and throwing him into his cupboard. “AND YOU’LL BE LUCKY TO SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY THE NEXT TIME YOU LAY A HAND ON MY SON YOU FREAK!!”
The memory goes dark, quickly replaced by another and then another. Flashes of abuse at the hands of this imbecile flicker across the screen. Looking through all of Harry’s memories, they see so many stories of pain, Dudley’s bullying, Vernon's threats, beatings, and starvation. Petunia shouted at him and slapped him. A flash of a foggy memory draws everyone's attention before it disappears. Multiple people call for them to go back and let it play out as Petunia lets out a fearful gasp.
Harry appears to be crawling through the house, reaching the doorway of the kitchen and they can see the back of a much younger Petunia. She is crushing something on the counter with a spoon before pouring the powder into a baby bottle. Shaking the bottle, she calls for Vernon to bring Lily. As the vision fades, the Wizagamot murmur amongst themselves. Fudge calls Petunia to the stand, they can see the blatant nervousness across her face.
“Mrs. Dursley, what was it you put in the bottle?” Chief Warlock, Mrs. Hypatia Muldoon asks her.
Petunia wrings her hands nervously, “Oh, w-well, it was nothing! Just a tonic to help her sleep, she was such a fussy child, you understand.” Petunia turns to Lily, her voice betraying her nerves. “Tell them, darling, tell them that I would never do anything to hurt you!”
Severus Snape steps forward, shifting in front of the young girl beside him, “What was in the bottle Petunia?!” Lily grips the side of his robes, she cannot seem to breathe, what is happening?
Petunia snaps, shaking her head. “I did this for her own good! Do you think I’m some kind of monster? Some kind of villain? I was protecting her! It’s not like I did something evil—I just wanted to slow things down a little, to give her more time, more childhood! The world is cruel, don’t you get that? I was keeping her safe from things she wasn’t ready to face! And now I’m being punished for it?” She lets out a sharp, bitter laugh, her eyes flashing. “Every parent wishes their child could stay young forever! Every single one of them! But I was the only one who did something about it! And that’s my crime? Loving my child too much? Keeping her safe? How dare you sit there and judge me like I was some kind of heartless abuser! I know what’s best for her—better than she does, better than those so-called ‘experts’ who think they understand but know nothing!” Her voice cracks, rising into a near-hysterical shriek. “This isn’t about what I did! This is an attack on me! A calculated, vicious attempt to tear my family apart! You all just want to see me suffer, to paint me as some kind of twisted, controlling monster when all I ever did was love her—more than anyone! More than any of you!” Her hands tremble, her breathing ragged, but she refuses to stop. “If I had left her to grow up on her own, she would have struggled, she would have suffered! But I saved her from that! I spared her from the pain of growing up too fast! And now? After everything I did for her, after everything I sacrificed, I’m being treated like some criminal? Like some kind of sick, selfish—” She chokes on the words, her fury spilling over into a barely contained sob. “Fine. Fine! Throw your accusations at me! Call me a monster! But don’t you dare stand there and pretend I didn’t love her more than any of you ever could!”
Lily speaks up, her voice quiet, shaking as her eyes glisten with unshed tears, “You lied to me, poisoned me so that I would never leave you?”
Petunia’s face twisted, her mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. For the first time in her life, she had no immediate retort, no quick excuse to smooth things over. Then, her expression hardened, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “Poisoned you?” she spat, her voice rising, shrill and sharp. “Is that what they’ve put in your head? Is that what you think of me?” Her breath was ragged, eyes wild with betrayal. “Everything I did, I did for you! You were just a child—you didn’t understand! You still don’t!” Tears welled in her eyes, but they were not tears of guilt. They were tears of rage, of self-pity. “I sacrificed for you! I kept you safe! And now, you stand there, looking at me like I’m some kind of villain?” Her voice cracked, her whole body trembling. “I was your mother! I was the only one who truly loved you!” She took a shaky breath, her voice softening, pleading, coaxing as if she could still reel them back in. “You don’t understand, darling. I just… I couldn’t let you grow up too fast. The world is cruel. You needed me.” She took a step forward, hands shaking, reaching as if to hold them, to make them listen. “Please, sweetheart, just-just think for a moment! Don’t let them turn you against me!” Her voice wavered, breaking into a desperate sob. “I love you! I love you more than anything in this world! I only wanted to keep you safe, to keep you mine a little longer. That’s not a crime, is it?” Her fingers clutched the fabric of her dress, wringing it like she could strangle the pain out of herself. “I can fix this! We can fix this! Just… please, don’t look at me like that. Don’t leave me.” She let out a ragged breath, her gaze flickering between hope and devastation. “You love me, don’t you?” Her voice was barely above a whisper now, trembling with fear. “You have to love me. After everything... you still love me, don’t you?”
The words felt like a slap. Love? Petunia was talking about love? Lily’s lips parted, but nothing came out. She wanted to scream, to rage, to demand how any of this could possibly be love. But the words tangled in her throat, strangled by something heavier—something that felt like grief. “Do I… still love you?” she echoed, voice barely more than a whisper. The question felt wrong, twisted. Like it wasn’t even hers. Like she shouldn’t have to answer it at all. Her chest ached, a slow, suffocating pressure. What kind of mother asks that? What kind of love is this? She blinked, and suddenly her face was wet. She hadn’t even realized she was crying. “You—” Her breath hitched. “You lied to me. You did something awful to me. And now you’re asking if I still love you?” Her hands curled into fists at her sides, not in anger, but in an attempt to ground herself, to hold onto something real—because everything felt like it was crumbling. “Do you even love me?” The words slipped out before she could stop them, raw and unsteady. “Not the idea of me. Not the child you wanted me to be.” She searched Petunia’s face, looking for something—anything—that could make this make sense. That could turn this into something other than what it was. But all she saw was desperation. All she saw was a woman begging for love like it was something she was entitled to like it was something she could demand. She let out a shaky breath, arms wrapping around herself like she was trying to hold the broken pieces together. “I don’t know,” she whispered finally, the truth scraping against her throat. “I don’t know how to love you the way you want me to.” And she wasn’t sure she ever had. The courtroom was silent.
Judge Muldoon’s voice cut through the heavy silence. “Mrs. Dursley, tell the court, clearly and truthfully—what exactly did you give the girl?”
Petunia’s breath hitched. Her fingers twisted in her lap, knuckles turning white. Her eyes darted around the courtroom—searching for a way out, for an escape that wasn’t there. “I…” She swallowed hard. “I gave her Vitaquen.”
The words landed like a curse, sucking the air from the room. But the prosecutor didn’t let the silence settle. “And what does Vitaquen do?”
Petunia shook her head, almost as if trying to deny her actions. But there was nowhere left to hide. “It… it slows things down,” she whispered. “It keeps them young. Stop them from growing up too fast.”
“How long have you given this drug to Miss. Potter?”
Petunia’s lips trembled. She squeezed her hands tighter as if she could crush the truth before it escaped. But it came anyway. “Her whole life,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Just a little at first. But when she started changing—growing—I had to give her more. She wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready. I—I just needed more time!”
The gasp that followed was a wave of revulsion, shock, and horror. A murmur rippled through the courtroom, a sound of disbelief and disgust. Someone let out a choked sob. Another whispered, “Dear Merlin…” Petunia flinched at the reaction, her whole body curling inward like she could make herself small enough to disappear. But there was no escaping this now. The truth was out.
The gasp of horror had barely faded before the courtroom erupted. Voices rose in a furious storm—some shouting, others murmuring in shock. The judge’s gavel slammed down, demanding order, but the damage was done. “That is enough,” the judge declared, her voice like ice. “The evidence against Petunia and Vernon Dursley is overwhelming. Given the extensive nature of their crimes and the irreversible harm inflicted upon their child, this court finds them guilty. The sentence…” The judge’s words pierced the air like a blade. “Life imprisonment in Azkaban.” Petunia let out a wretched, strangled sound, her face twisting in horror. “No—NO! You can’t do this! You can’t take me away from her!” She turned, wild-eyed, toward Lily, desperation twisting into rage. “You ungrateful little brat!” she shrieked, voice cracking. “I gave you everything! Everything! And this is how you repay me?!” Lily flinched, but Petunia didn’t stop. She was unraveling now, her fury spilling out like venom. “You were nothing before me! Nothing! I made you! I loved you when no one else would, and this—this is what I get?!” Tears streamed down her face, but they were not tears of sorrow—they were tears of betrayal, fury, self-pity. Her wild eyes snapped to Harry, and her grief twisted into pure loathing. “This is your fault!” she spat, voice shrill. “You! You did this! You poisoned her against me, just like you ruined everything else! Just like your mother…always taking, taking, taking!” Vernon’s face was purple with rage, his gaze flicking between the girl he had once controlled and the boy he had always despised. “You think he cares about you, girl?” Vernon sneered at Lily. “You think any of them do?! You’ll come crawling back…just wait! Just wait!” The Aurors moved in, their wands raised, and with a sharp flick of magic, the shackles binding the Dursleys tightened. Petunia screamed, thrashing wildly as the spell began to drag her toward the doors. “No! No, please…don’t take me away from her!” she wailed, her heels scraping against the floor. “I LOVE YOU! I DID THIS FOR YOU!” Her final cry came just as the doors slammed shut behind them… And then there was silence.
As the doors slammed shut, sealing away Petunia and Vernon's fading screams, a heavy silence settled over the courtroom. The weight of what had just transpired seemed to press on every person in the room. The head of the Wizengamot, an elderly witch with sharp eyes and deep-set wrinkles, cleared her throat. “Now that the sentencing has been carried out, we must turn our attention to the welfare of the children.” Murmurs rippled through the chamber. A few members exchanged uneasy glances, while others scribbled notes on parchment. “Both children have endured extreme circumstances,” another member spoke up, adjusting his monocle. “The question remains—what is to be done with them now?” The murmuring grew louder, discussions breaking out among the officials. Some argued for immediate placement within magical guardianship, while others raised concerns about the trauma they had suffered. All the while, Lily and Harry sat in stunned silence. Their fate was now in the hands of people they didn’t know, in a world that had always seemed so far removed from their lives. Then, after a long pause, the head of the Wizengamot turned her gaze toward them. “Harry Potter. Lily-Kathryn Potter.” Her voice, though firm, held an edge of something softer. “Do you have anything to say?” All eyes in the room turned to them, waiting.
Harry stood up, taking a deep breath. His hands were clenched into fists, but his voice was steady. “We want to stay together,” he said firmly, looking the head of the Wizengamot in the eye. “And we want to stay with wizards. With our own kind.” A hush fell over the room.
Then, “I offer my home to these children,” came a voice thick with emotion. Molly Weasley stepped forward, her face flushed, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “I may not have wealth or grandeur, but I have love enough for them both.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she stood tall, her husband standing tall at her side; a reassuring hand on her waist. “No child should ever feel unwanted. If they need a family, they will always have one with me.”
Gasps echoed around the chamber, but before anyone could speak… "I, too, will take them in." The words were cold, deliberate. The Wizengamot turned as Severus Snape stepped forward, his black robes billowing slightly with the movement. His expression was unreadable, his gaze locked on the two children in question. “Lily’s children should not be raised by strangers,” he said flatly, his voice low but cutting through the murmurs like a blade. “I can provide for them. I can keep them safe.” More whispers.
Then, “And so can we.” Lucius Malfoy rose smoothly to his feet, Narcissa standing beside him. His voice was cool, carefully measured. “The Potters are of noble magical lineage. It would be a disgrace for them to be cast adrift, without proper guidance.” His piercing gray eyes swept over the gathered officials. “Our home is open to them. They will want for nothing.” Narcissa tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “A child should be raised among those who understand them,” she said softly, but there was something pointed in the way she glanced toward Lily. The courtroom erupted in whispers. Three vastly different offers, three entirely different futures. The Wizengamot had a decision to make. And Harry and Lily’s lives hung in the balance.
The murmuring in the chamber rose to a fever pitch, voices overlapping in heated debate. The Weasleys, kind as they were, lacked the resources to take on two more children. And the Malfoys, well, their ties to the Dark Lord were too murky, too dangerous to risk placing the last Potters in their care. The head of the Wizengamot raised a hand, and silence fell. Her gaze swept over the three offers before settling on Severus Snape. “Severus Snape,” she said slowly, weighing each word. “You were Lily Potter’s friend. You have proven your loyalty to this court and Hogwarts. You are employed, financially stable, and capable of providing for these children in a magical household.” She took a deep breath. “The court rules that Harry Potter and Lily-Kathryn Potter will be placed under your guardianship.” A collective gasp echoed through the chamber. Molly Weasley clutched a hand to her chest, her eyes filling with tears, whether from heartbreak or relief, it was impossible to say. Lucius Malfoy’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling around his cane. Narcissa barely moved, but her gaze lingered on Lily before she turned away.
And Severus Snape, his face remained unreadable. But for the briefest moment, his shoulders seemed to relax, the tension that had been coiled in him since the trial began finally loosening. “Very well,” he said, at last, his voice smooth, measured. His black robes whispered against the stone floor as he stepped forward, his dark gaze settling on Harry and Lily. “Everything will be alright now, I shall keep you safe..” A shiver ran down Harry’s spine.
Lily stiffened beside him, her fingers twitching at her sides as if caught between instinct and uncertainty. The courtroom was buzzing with whispers, but none of it mattered. Lily barely heard the final ruling before something inside her broke, the weight of everything crashing down on her at once. The fear, the betrayal, the loneliness she'd carried for so long, all of it shattered as overwhelming relief took its place. With a sudden, choked sob, she stumbled forward and collapsed against Severus. His entire body stiffened, arms half-raised as if unsure whether to hold her. But when she buried her face into his robes, shaking with relief, exhaustion, and pain, something in him gave way. Slowly, carefully, his arms wrapped around her, one hand settling hesitantly on the back of her head. “Shh,” he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. “It’s over.” But her sobs didn’t stop. The pain, the betrayal, the sheer exhaustion of everything still coursed through her, and now that she was finally safe, finally home, her body refused to hold it in any longer. Harry stood frozen, his gaze darting between Lily and Snape. He wanted to feel that relief too, to collapse, to believe in safety, but he couldn't. Not yet. His arms wrapped tightly around himself instead, shoulders drawn tight as if bracing for something to go wrong. Snape looked at him then, really looked, and something in his face softened. “Come, Potter,” he said, quieter than usual. “It’s time to go.” Harry hesitated, then nodded stiffly, stepping closer. Lily’s sobs were fading now, replaced by shaky, exhausted breaths. She didn’t let go. And, for once, Severus didn’t pull away. The Wizengamot watched in stunned silence as the three of them, a strange, broken, but not entirely hopeless trio, left the courtroom together.
Outside the courtroom, the press swarmed like vultures, their questions sharp and invasive, demanding answers, accusing with every shouted word. Flashbulbs exploded in rapid succession, each one striking against their fragile sense of security. The sudden onslaught of noise and light made Lily-Kathryn’s breath hitch, her heart racing as the world seemed to close in on her. The press didn’t care that they were just children; they only cared about the story. The flashing lights burned against her, each one a reminder of the cruelty she had experienced in her life, a life marked by the scars of an uncaring world. She pressed her face into Severus’s chest, hiding from the chaos, her hands clutching at his robes as though she could hold on to him and keep herself from shattering.
Harry, equally overwhelmed by the suffocating crowd, looked up at Severus, his eyes wide with panic. The weight of the situation had him frozen for a moment, but then his hand shot out, gripping Severus’s tightly. The press surged forward, demanding their attention, and Harry, feeling a tightening in his chest, instinctively sought Severus’s protection. Severus’s voice sliced through the chaos, a sharp command that had the crowd momentarily parting. “Move aside!” His tone brooked no argument, carrying the power of a man who had faced down far worse things than the press. But even as they shuffled back, the intensity of the moment was almost too much for the children.
He scooped Lily-Kathryn into his arms, lifting her easily as if she weighed nothing. She clung to him, her sobs muffled against his chest, the raw terror from the press still clawing at her. With Harry’s hand firmly clasped in his own, Severus Apparated them away in an instant, the world blurring as they disappeared from the frenzy. The quiet of Severus’s home was a sharp contrast to the madness they had just escaped. The door closed behind them with a soft click, sealing out the noise and the press. It was safe here. Lily-Kathryn, unable to hold it in any longer, collapsed into Severus’s arms, her sobs coming in jagged bursts.
Harry followed suit, wrapping his arms around Severus’s waist, his voice trembling with emotion. “Thank you... thank you so much...” he repeated, over and over, his voice cracking as the weight of everything finally broke through. Severus stood there, holding them both, his expression unreadable. But there was something in his eyes, something softer, almost protective, that he couldn’t quite hide. He hadn’t been a father to them in the conventional sense, but in that moment, he was exactly what they needed.
“You’re safe now,” he said, his voice low and steady, almost too calm in the face of the storm they’d just weathered. “No one will ever hurt you again.” Lily-Kathryn’s sobs slowed, but she didn’t pull away from him. Harry, too, remained pressed against Severus, his face buried in the older man’s robes as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. For the first time in years, the Potter siblings felt the overwhelming weight of fear start to lift, replaced by a fragile sense of safety, a glimmer of hope in a world that had been anything but kind to them.