Long Delayed, Finally Administered
12 July 1996
ICW Headquarters
Alhena was pressed tightly against Orion’s side as they watched the proceedings, feeling nausea roil in her gut. She knew that whatever she was going to hear that day was bad when they brought out the extra-strong Veritaserum, and she hoped that whomever were listening on the Wireless had very strong stomachs.
“Your name?” There was neither mercy nor pity in Babajide’s tone.
“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.”
“Date of birth?”
“28 August 1881.”
The feeling of nausea increased just as the next question left Babajide’s mouth. “What caused the death of your sister, Arianna Kendra Dumbledore?”
“A curse disguised in a duel I had with Gellert.” Dumbledore’s tone was even, and that was what truly made his next words so horrifying. “She was a nuisance, a burden that needed to be exterminated.”
The questioning continued as Alhena tuned it out, turning her head into her father’s chest so she didn’t have to watch. But finally, the question about Thomas’ origins drew her reluctant attention.
“Were you responsible for the death of Merope Minka Riddle née Gaunt?”
“Yes.”
“How were you responsible?”
“I compelled the healers at Saint Mungo’s to turn her away, and Imperiused her husband to abandon her.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to get revenge on Magnus Gaunt in the only conceivable way I could, knowing that Merope was the first daughter born into the family in a few generations.”
And with every question that followed, the sequence of events got more and more horrifying.
Dumbledore freely admitted to personally killing Marvolo, and having set up the death of his older brother in the late 1900s. He also admitted to having Marvolo and Morfin arrested on bogus charges and creating falsified memories for Robert Ogden to submit to the Wizengamot as evidence. He admitted to letting dozens – if not hundreds – of children return to abusive households from the 30s to the present day. He admitted to orchestrating Carina’s deaths, as well as that of the elder Potters, Irma Selwyn, Algernon Mulciber, and Abraxas Malfoy.
The two most horrifying things they heard before lunch was that he had built Voldemort’s ranks with people he personally disliked for very inane reasons, that he had deliberately seen to Bellatrix’s destabilisation and torture of Frank and Alice, and that he had created Voldemort specifically to wipe out the entire Dark side and the Peverells.
During lunch, Alhena outright refused to eat, horrified so far beyond words that she had to go throw up what little she had eaten at breakfast. And then they were back in the courtroom.
The confession that he had ensured the deaths of Lily and James had forced Orion to sticking-charm Sirius, Remus, Harry and Alhena to their seats. The confession that he had wanted Frank and Alice to die forced him to do the same to Augusta and Neville. But the news that he had hoped the Quartet’s many trials and tribulations would kill them set the entire crowd present off.
It was during the period of forced silence that Alhena managed to get the next question on the list off though gritted teeth before Babajide could gather himself to do so. “What happened to Julietta de Alba?”
“I gave her to Brandt, told him to see how far he could bend her mind and magic until it snapped.” Dumbledore’s smile was ugly. “If I could not wield the necromantic arts, then the necromancers deserved to die. Any magic I cannot wield should be banned.”
There was a moment of suspenseful silence, and then a wave of icy magic flooded the courtroom from all directions. And even Babajide looked sick.
The entire European panel – the ones serving as jury for Dumbledore’s trial – vanished behind silencing charms, while the entire courtroom waited with bated breath for the verdict. And, at last, it arrived.
“We delegate his punishment to Lady Peverell, seeing as her family has been singularly wronged the most through his actions,” Babajide said with the help of a Sonorus. “Lady Peverell, to the dais, please.”
The fear in Dumbledore’s eyes brought deep satisfaction to Alhena as she stood and moved towards the dais. She took a moment to collect herself, before she spoke. “I, Alhena Melania Carina Black-Peverell, Lady of the Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses of Peverell and Slytherin, Lady of the Noble House of Haydon, and Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble Houses of Black and Gaunt, call upon Lady Magic to deliver judgement on Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.”
A wave of magic swept out from where Alhena stood, wrapping around Dumbledore and seemingly assessing the old megalomaniac. Then, to many horrified gasps, it seemed as if his magic was ripped from his core as a deep voice spoke. “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, I declare you unfit for the magic bestowed upon you. I declare you unfit to live the blessedly long life that is bestowed upon wizards. May you be remanded to the deepest realms of suffering for the injustices you committed against Death’s chosen. As I will, so mote it be.”
“So mote it be,” Alhena echoed, and others followed suit. Dumbledore’s corpse was swiftly reduced to a desiccated mundane husk, and crumbled to dust in front of the watchful eyes of the crowd present.
As the group left, Alhena and Harry both felt an invisible blanket of comfort settle around their shoulders as they walked, pressed tightly against Orion and Sirius’ sides, respectively.
The worst was over, and what they could do was rebuild from the ashes.