Chapter 5
The trip through the underground was definitely an experience. Mr. Weasley had such unbridled wonder about everything muggle that Harry felt more like he was the adult and Mr. Weasley the child. While it was entertaining to see Mr. Weasley act like this to completely normal, average muggle things Harry had grown up seeing, he would like to make it to his hearing at this time. He swore he had to spend 15 minutes just trying to convince Mr. Weasley to leave the ATM. The sun hadn’t even risen yet, and Harry already wanted to go back to bed.
Mr. Weasley didn’t even know where exactly they were going. He was just following some directions on a map, which Harry had to end up taking over because Mr. Weasley kept getting confused. Do wizards never have to use maps? It seemed so because Mr. Weasley was acting like reading a map was rocket science. On top of having to read the map, Harry had to do everything else, such as paying for the ticket and showing him how to get past the turn gate.
When they finally reached their destination the map had marked, Harry wondered if they made a wrong turn somewhere because they had just stopped in front of a red phone booth.
“Ah! Looks like we are here,” Mr. Weasley exclaimed.
“Are you sure this is the right spot?” Harry asked.
“Certainly,” Mr. Weasley assured
“Right, so where do we go from here then?” Harry doubtfully questioned.
“In the phone booth of course! Here, let’s go,” Mr. Weasley beckoned
Having literally no other choice, Harry followed the man into the phone booth. It was a tight fit between the two of them, making Harry feel uncomfortable, but Mr. Weasley seemed not to notice. He was too busy placing a quarter into the machine and dialing some number that he read off a small piece of paper. It was strange he knew how to use a phone and no other muggle invention but whatever. When Mr. Weasley finished dialing the number, an automated female voice started speaking.
“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please clearly state your name and reason for being here,” the voice said.
“Arthur Weasley and Harry Potter, here for Harry Potter’s hearing,” Mr. Weasley responded.
Almost right after Mr. Weasley finished speaking, a compartment next to the dial opened up, revealing two badges. Each badge had their names and the phrase ‘Harry Potter’s Hearing’ on them.
“Arthur Weasley and Harry Potter, here for Harry Potter’s hearing. Please wear your badges at all times during your trip at the Ministry of Magic. You will be required to turn in your wands for a wand weighing at the entrance. Have a nice day,” the voice finished.
As soon as the voice stopped talking, Harry felt his stomach drop as the floor beneath them disappeared and they were suddenly falling. It took everything he had in him not to scream. After a few seconds, they stopped falling and it was only magic that allowed Harry to stay on his feet when they hit the ground. He felt a bit shaken but Mr. Weasley seemed unfazed. Was this normal wizard stuff?
Where the phone booth had dropped them off revealed several large desks that seemed to loom over Harry with very little space in between each of them, making it hard for any one to sneak past without being seen by the people sitting at them. Harry could tell the rest of the ministry was behind these desks but Harry couldn’t see what it looked like because they were so large. All he could see were massive archways meters and meters above everyone’s heads, all made of black stone. With how high up these arches were, it didn’t feel like he was underground.
Harry noticed that Mr. Weasley started walking towards these desks and he followed. The desk they arrived at had a golden sign hanging on its front that said ‘Wand Weighing/Entrance’. Sitting at the desk, there was a stern looking witch who was writing something down on a piece of parchment.
Instead of talking, Mr. Weasley just stood awkwardly while Harry nudged the man to try and get him to talk. He was supposed to be the adult. After standing for a second or two and a bit of nudging from Harry, Mr. Weasley cleared his throat a bit.
The lady looked up from her work, peered over the desk, and then rolled her eyes at them as she put her quill down harshly. Who pissed in her tea this early in the morning? She gave them a pointed look as if to say ‘well?’. Harry nudged again Mr. Weasley to get him to start talking, but Mr. Weasley didn’t do anything. It was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. It seemed like he would have to be an adult, again.
“Harry Potter and Arthur Weasley, here for my hearing,” Harry said.
“Badges?” the lady asked.
Promptly, they showed her their badges. In response, the lady huffed, seemingly annoyed, and then pulled a scale in front of her that had been sitting on the far side of her desk.
“Give me your wands,” she demanded.
Harry pulled his wand out of his trousers pocket and handed it to the lady. He watched as Mr. Weasley's wand seemed to just appear in his hand. Where did the man pull it from? Harry studied the white shirt Mr. Weasley had on more closely, looking for a pocket, but found what seemed to be a brown holster strapped on Mr. Weasley's forearm underneath the shirt. Did they make wand holsters like they made gun holsters in the muggle world? That would be totally cool and Harry could totally use that. It sucked keeping his wand in his pocket and it sometimes fell out.
The lady took both of their wands and placed Mr. Weasley's on the desk while she placed his on the scale. She squinted her eyes as she heavily examined the scales. Even though the wand should have made made one side heavier, the scales stayed even. When she had enough of staring at the scale, she switched the wands and repeated the process with the Mr. Weasley's wand.
“That’ll do,” she suddenly declared, thrusting their wands into their faces and then going back to her writing, completely ignoring their existence.
Harry took it for what it was and began to walk through the small space in between the desks so he could finally see the ministry in full. Mr. Weasley, on the other hand, seemed to be a little surprised with the lady's shortness, but he quickly followed after Harry after a moment.
Harry's first thought was ‘this place is bloody huge’. He couldn’t even see where the place ended. Despite the early time, there were already hundreds of people bustling about. There were paper airplanes flying above everyone's heads and off to one side, he could see rows of fire places. They kept lighting up green as people entered and exited through them. Harry could see elevators located randomly along the walls that seemed to not only go up and down, but side to side and even diagonally.
A few hundred feet apart each, there were fountains scattered throughout the whole place. The one that caught Harry’s eye was golden and depicted a wizard, witch, centaur, goblin and a house-elf all standing together. When he thought of magical creatures, he never really thought of them all together. Sure, they interacted occasionally, but never all together. It was different and Harry liked it.
He realized he had stopped walking to look around when he saw that Mr. Weasley was several feet ahead of him. Harry quickly sped up to catch up to the man. If he lost Mr. Weasley in the crowd of people, he would never find his way to his hearing. When he caught up to Mr. Weasley, who hadn’t noticed him fall behind, Harry saw that they were heading towards an elevator numbered 324.
When they entered the elevator, Harry noticed a doorman standing next to the buttons of the elevator. He had a red, stiff uniform on and polished black shoes. The man was pale and his face showed absolutely no emotion. He looked as dead as Harry felt after a rough night of nightmares.
“Magical Justice floor, please,” Mr. Weasley politely told the doorman.
The man didn’t respond other than pushing one of the buttons in the elevator. Mr. Weasley gave a small nod in thanks and then motioned for Harry to follow as he walked to the back of the elevator. Harry was honestly concerned for this dude. Was he okay? Harry was tempted to ask the man to blink twice if he needed help.
As the elevator doors closed, Harry noticed two other people who both looked busy. One was a lady scribbling furiously on a notepad while the other was fiddling with some sort of object. It looked to be some sort of puzzle and by the frustrated look on the man's face, he wasn’t close to solving it. Harry then heard a noise above him, and looking up, he saw that several paper airplanes were flying above them.
Having nothing to do in the elevator, Harry decided to calm his nerves a bit by stretching his magic. It was a bit overwhelming at first since the Ministry is overfilling with magic but Harry quickly got used to it. It was crazy to think that he once didn’t know magic existed. Not to sound like an addict, but he didn’t know if he could go without it. Magic is such a large part of his life. He loved everything it could do and the comfort it brought. Magic meant he wasn’t with the Dursley’s. Magic meant he could defend himself.
When the elevator stopped, the man with the object left and a few people got on. Harry was about to leave as well when Mr. Weasley pulled him back.
“This isn’t our stop, Harry,” he said.
Well, that’s awkward. The next time the elevator stopped, the lady and a few airplanes got off. Harry waited to see if Mr. Weasley was going to leave this time. Mr. Weasley did not, so Harry stayed. It took a few more stops and many more people and airplanes cycling through before Mr. Weasley announced that this was their stop.
Exiting the elevator, Harry found himself in a long hallway where the wall in front of him was lined with a series of large double doors. The hallway itself was a dark gray color with hanging chandelier fixtures overhead on the ceiling. There were benches along the wall opposite of the doors. Each door had gold numbers in the center, counting up from right to left. Glancing at his watch, Harry saw it was 7:54 a.m. That meant he had to wait a whole hour just stewing in his nerves before his hearing. Great.
“I’m pretty sure Dumbledore said we should go to room number eight,” Mr. Weasley said.
Harry just nodded in response. Before he could start to make his way over to the room, a paper airplane zoomed in front of him and unfolded itself. Grabbing the paper from the air, Harry read the note out loud so Mr. Weasley could hear it.
“Mr. Harry James Potter,
Due to past offenses of underage magic, the Wizagmont has concluded a trial would be much better suited instead of a hearing. The trial will begin on the 12th of August at 8:00 a.m in Courtroom 1. Despite the short notice, punishment for being late will still be held in full if you do not arrive on time.
Elphias Doge”
Well that’s great. Harry silently thanked whatever deity existed for Mr. Weasley’s decision to leave ridiculously early. He assumed the past offenses of underage magic was when Dobby came and made a ruckus at his house. The elf had used magic several times in the Dursley residence, and Harry remembered the Minister, thinking the magic was him, pardoning him for his offenses.
“Huh, that’s strange. A trial for a minor is almost unheard of, usually reserved for much worse offenses. Have you even done any other underaged magic?” Mr. Weasley wondered out loud, “Well it’s a good thing we got here early, Harry. We best be off now. It would leave a horrible impression if we were late.”
And with that, they walked over to the set of doors with the golden number one on it. Mr. Weasley opened the door and allowed Harry to enter first. When he entered, Harry saw what appeared to be the entire Wizagmont. Well, that definitely wasn’t normal. Sure, he had past offenses, but that definitely wasn’t worth a full blown trial with the entire Wizagmont.
Now, if Harry was eleven, fresh into the Wizarding world, he would be terrified with how this situation was turning out. However, he wasn’t eleven and he had faced bloody Voldemort, multiple times. He wasn’t about to be scared by a lot of people staring and judging him. He had gotten used to that all at Hogwarts. Harry was actually a bit exasperated. Did they really need to do all this?
Harry walked in with a calm posture, doing his best to show that he was unaffected by how things were turning out. He liked it when people got mad that their intimidation attempts didn’t work. He wanted to seem calm because the paper always painted him as a hot headed irrational person. They probably were expecting him to storm into the room and go on about how this was all unfair or something. The reputation the paper had given him was not going to help him during this trial.
Harry took note of everyone there. In the library, there was a self-updating book that contains all the Wizagmont members. The book tells him their names, their roles in Wizengamot, and a few facts about each of them. Above all of this information, the book contains a picture of each person so the reader could put a face to the names they read. That book is the reason Harry knew the name of the witch who spoke to him first.
“Glad to see you got our note in time, Mr. Potter,” Amelia Bones greeted.
Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones had certainly earned her title. She was known for enforcing the law with an iron fist and never let outside influence affect her judgment, something Harry was glad for. This would definitely help his chances in a fair trial. The only problem was, the Minister himself was present and he was known for unfair trials. Hopefully, they would balance each other out.
“Fortunately, we got here early. We were actually in the hallway when the letter got to us,” Harry explained.
“Mr. Potter, please do take your seat, right there in the middle,” Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, demanded while pointing at a lone chair in the center, “Mr. Weasley, you can find a seat somewhere on the right side along the wall.”
Harry hated this man. He was known for being a blood supremacist and actively advocated against the rights of magical creatures, such as werewolves and vampires. He knew for a fact that it was not normal for the minister himself to be present at a school boy's trial, but technically there wasn’t a law prohibiting him from being there either, so Harry would have to endure.
Harry walked over to the chair and took a seat. The feeling of all eyes on him enhanced but it didn’t scare him. It just made him uncomfortable. There were people surrounding all sides of him who didn’t like him and he had no chance of hiding. A second after he sat down, Fudge started talking at an extremely fast pace.
“Percy, please start the transcripts, the trial begins now. We are here for the disciplinary trial of Mr. Harry James Potter, resident of Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whining, focusing on the offense of underage magic at 6:23 p.m. on the night of the 15th of July, using the Patronus Charm. So sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Cornelious Oswlad Fudge, Minister of Magic and head of this trial today, though I’m sure you’ve seen me in papers and whatnot. Mr. Potter, did you or did you not cast the Patronous Charm at 6:23 p.m. on the 15th of July?”
Was it normal to just jump into trial like that?
“Minister, you forgot to state today's date,” Harry said.
Harry knew how this tactic went. Fudge was probably going to rapid fire yes or no questions at him without giving him a chance to explain himself, making him seem guilty. He had to break the man out of his stride. Besides, it’s required to state the date during a trial, so really, he was just helping the Minister.
“You think you’re smart, do you boy?” Fudge snarled.
“No, sir. I just want this trial to go along in the right way. Isn’t it part of the requirements for the head of trial to state the date of the trial?” Harry asked.
The minister huffed but didn’t deny it.
“The date is the 12th of August. Okay, now boy, answer my question. Did you or did you not cast the Patronous Charm at 6:23 p.m. on the 15th of July?”
“You didn’t state the beginning time,” Harry reminded the Minister.
He was totally being a brat and should definitely stop, but the shade of red the Minister’s face turned was just too funny. Suddenly, the double doors of the courtroom burst open with a loud bang.
“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,” Dumbledore loudly announced, “Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Grand Sorcerer decorated with the Order of Merlin, First class, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamont. What a mouthful. Please, Minister, do tell me the charges.”
He walked in like he owned the place. It was annoying.
“You got the message of the location and time change?” the Minister questioned, apparently upset about that fact.
“By a happy accident, I arrived a few hours early and overheard some nice witches talking about Harry’s upcoming trial. Imagine my surprise when I heard that not only was the time changed but also the location. Thankfully, these ladies were happy to point me in the right direction and tell me the time. Thus, I arrived on time. Well, a few minutes late, but it doesn’t seem like you have gotten far. The charges?” Dumbledore asked.
“Mr. Harry James Potter has be-” Harry cut off Mr. Fudge before the trial could proceed anymore.
“I’m so sorry, Minister. I just need to ask Professor Dumbledore a question. Are you acting as my defense lawyer, sir?” Harry tilted his head towards Dumbledore in question, trying to look the man in his eyes.
Oddly enough, the Professor refused to meet his gaze. Instead, Dumbledore focused on his forehead.
“Well, I guess I am, Harry,” Dumbledore responded in what was probably supposed to be a grandfatherly tone.
Harry hated it.
“In that case, I, Harry James Potter, reject the use of a defense lawyer in today’s trial, the date being 12th of August at,” Harry glanced down at his watch, “8:07 a.m. I understand what this entails and wish to proceed.”
Since Harry was still facing Dumbledore, he was able to see all the emotions that crossed his face. First, it was shock which was then followed by anger and then quickly masked into disappointment, obviously meant to make Harry feel bad about his decision. Looks like someone didn’t think Harry would know his rights. It was Amelia Bones who responded to his statement.
“As per Mr. Harry Potter request, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you are hereby rejected as a lawyer. You may not stand in the center nor speak at any point in the trial. Due to your position as Chief Warlock of the Wizagmont, you are eligible to vote, but you must take your seat and remain there for the duration of the trial,” Madam Bones formally stated.
“Harry, my boy. You don’t want to do this. You don’t know how a trial works. Trust me, I know how to help you,” Dumbledore tried to convince him.
“Mr. Harry Potter has rejected the use of a lawyer therefore you may not speak to him. Please take your seat, sir,” Madam Bones cut in before Harry could respond.
Giving Madam Bones an annoyed look, Dumbledore reluctantly made his way over to a seat next to Mr. Weasley, whose mouth was hanging open. Before leaving, however, Dumbledore decided to give his great words of wisdom to Harry.
“I’m disappointed in you, Harry,” he solemnly stated.
Such wonderful words of wisdom that Harry did not give a fuck about. Dumbledore could go drink turkey piss for all he cared. The courtroom was silent, not knowing how to react. Harry decided this was a good time to start working toward his freedom.
“I would like to submit my memories of the night of the 15th of July in order to prove my innocence under the defense of a life threatening situation,” Harry told Amelia Bones.
She seemed to be the only one that would listen to him.
“Unfortunately, Mr. Potter, you must have a guardian who is present to consent in order to do that since you are a minor and it appears you do not have a guardian present,” she responded.
“Actually, the law states that if my guardians are unable or ineligible to give their consent, I may give it myself. My parents are dead. I think that says enough there. My godfather, Sirius Black, is a wanted criminal who has been to Azkaban, which declares him ineligible. The Dursley’s are muggle and therefore cannot take part in this trial. My magical guardian, Albus Dumbledore, is ineligible because he stated he was acting as my defense lawyer and I have rejected the use of one. This means anyone who could be considered my guardian is either dead or invalid, leaving me the right to decide whether I can or cannot submit my memories,” Harry explained to her.
Harry was so thankful that Dumbledore had attempted to be his lawyer because it made everything easier. He thought the memory plan wouldn’t work because he wouldn't be able to declare Dumbledore invalid, so this wasn't his original plan. It was, however, the one that proved his innocence the best, other than Veritaserum, which Harry did not feel comfortable using.
“That’s preposterous!” a toad-like lady shouted, horrendously clad in pink, “this boy doesn’t know what he speaks of! He was raised by muggles ,” she spat out.
How is this lady relevant? What say does she have in the trial? Thinking for a second, Harry remembered who this lady was. She was Dolores Jane Umbridge, British Ministry of Magic bureaucrat and Senior Undersecretary. She had a reputation for upholding pureblood ideals while only being a half-blood herself, which Harry found amusing. She supported the very group that was against her. She was also known for prosecuting many muggle-borns unfairly and sometimes even punishing innocents just for the fun of it.
Still, this lady had no relevance since she wasn’t head of this trial so what gave her the right to speak? After she had spoken, talking erupted in the courtroom and it took Madam Bones several tries to quiet everyone.
“Whether Mr. Potter knows what he speaks of or not, he has given a valid request that must be carried out according to trial law. As for Mr. Potter’s upbringing, it does not pertain to this trial,” she told Umbridge before addressing the entire room, “Now, let us continue. I am sure many of us have better things to do. Mr. Potter, your request to submit your memories has been approved. Please choose someone to obtain the memories,” she stated.
Harry was about to state his choice when Dumbledore interrupted him, announcing, “Harry, I’ll do it for you, my boy. It’s really no problem. I've retrieved many memories in my lifetime.”
Fuck no.
“Actually, I would prefer if Madam Bones would retrieve them, if that is alright with her,” Harry responded, doing his best to seem polite.
“Truly Harry, I must insist. I’m sure I could do it more easily and it would take less time,” Dumbledore insisted.
Did he just subtly but not so subtly insult the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? That was not a smart idea.
“Sir, I don't believe your allowed to be talking right now. Besides, I am sure Madam Bones could pull out my memory just as well as you could, if not better. She probably does this all the time in trial. I trust her fully and would like to continue on with this trial without any more interruptions.”
Sweet Merlin did Dumbledore look livid right now. It was beautiful.
“Mr. Potter is right,” Madam Bones told Dumbledore, obviously trying to keep the anger out of her voice, “Since you entered this courtroom acting as a lawyer, and Mr. Potter rejected the use of a lawyer, you are unable to have any say in how this trial goes except for voting. As for Mr. Potter, you know how this works and what this fully entails?"
Harry remembered a book that described the process in full from the library. That library was one of the greatest things that had ever happened to him. Without that library, Dumbledore would be standing next to him, and who knows what that man would be doing or what his ulterior motive would be.
“Yes, ma'am,” Harry responded.
“Great, Griselda, please retrieve a memory vial in the backroom as well as the ministry pensive,” Madam Bones directed.
Griselda Marchbanks, Wizengamont elder, then left through a back door Harry hadn’t noticed before. As soon as that door shut, the courtroom was uncomfortably silent. It appeared nobody knew what to do while they waited. A minute or two into the silence, Harry saw Fudge start tugging at his collar with a pained look on his face. He clearly wanted to break the silence but couldn’t come up with anything to say. As time continued on, more and more people became antsy, shifting around in their seats and twiddling their fingers. Harry did his best to stay completely still and look unperturbed by the unpleasant silence. What was taking her so long?
Finally, Marchbanks returned with the objects requested and they were ready to continue on with the trial. Marchbanks placed the pensieve in front of Harry and handed the vial to Madam Bones, who beckoned Harry over to her.
“Stand still while I retrieve your memories. Remember, push them to the forefront of your mind and do not think of anything else. Focus only on the memories of that night. I would rather not waste my time sorting through unnecessary memories,” she told him.
Harry followed her command, closing his eyes and only thinking about the memories he wanted to submit. After a second, he felt a tug in his mind. Not on his physical mind though, he felt a tug on his thoughts, which confused Harry greatly. How does one even feel a tug on their thoughts? Who was he kidding, this was magic he was talking about. Anything was possible. The tug remained for a minute or two and when it left, Harry knew Madam Bones was finished.
“Thank you, Mr. Potter. You may return to your seat. Just to clarify, you are pleading innocent in defense that your actions were out of self defense, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry answered.
“Understood. Minister,” Madam Bone shifted her focus from Harry to Fudge, who appeared to not be paying attention, “Did you not tell me you wanted to lead this trial? So far, you haven't done much.”
“Ah, yes, well umm… You seemed to be doing great. I saw no reason to interfere. I mean if you insist though, I guess I could take the reins or however that saying goes. Right, yes. I can do that,” the Minister just sat there for a second, seemingly thinking hard, “Um, where were we?” he asked.
A few sighs could be heard throughout the room. How on earth did this man get elected? He was dumber than a flobberworm. Harry wished Madam Bones had just continued herself with the trial. At least she knew what she was doing. On the bright side, it was hilarious to see the Minister fumble. He just wished it didn’t have to be at his expense.
“We were just about to view my memories of the night I was attacked,” Harry explained, failing to keep some of the annoyance out of his voice.
“You were attacked? By who?” the Minister asked.
“I am sure my memories will show you,” Harry responded.
He knew no one would believe him if he just said Dementors without any proof, especially since Dementors are supposed to be under ministry control. He knew the ministry didn’t like it when people accused them of being impotent, so he had to be smart about this. Even with the visual proof, there was still a chance people wouldn’t believe him.
“Right. Bones, could you perform that spell? You know, that one that makes the memories or whatever be shown through the whole room?” the Minister asked.
“You mean ubique theatrum ?” she said.
“Sure, that one,” Minister nodded.
Harry could tell Madam Bones wanted to roll her eyes yet couldn’t for the sake of professionalism. Madam Bones then poured the vial of his memories into the pensieve and began a series of wand movements. All Harry could hear for a good minute was the muttering of ubique theatrum over and over again. Suddenly, a large amount of white vapor sprang out of the pensieve and started swirling around in the center of the room, looking somewhat like a cloud.
Then, Harry watched as his memories started playing out in front of everyone. The memories started with Piers making his comment about the strange cold temperature and continued on from there. The entire courtroom watched as he fought off two Dementors who were obviously trying to suck out his soul. Only an idiot would think that Harry hadn’t been in a life threatening situation. If this didn’t prove his innocence, he didn’t know what would. The memory ended right before Ms. Figg found him. It would create a massive headache for Harry if he had to explain that whole thing to the court.
“Lies! The boy is telling lies! Dementors are under Ministry control, they would never just attack you,” the pink toad screeched as soon as the memories finished, “You just performed a Patronus because you wanted to brag that you could. There was no reason at all, you must be making this up!”
Oh Merlin was this lady annoying. He was so glad he would never have to see this lady again.
“With all due respect, Ms. Umbridge, these are my memories. I can’t exactly falsify them. I find it hard to believe that you are so blind as to not be able to see what is right in front of you. I thought someone of your caliber, a Ministry bureaucrat and Undersecretary, would be able to tell the truth. I am scared for how the ministry will progress in the future if it is full of people who act like you,” Harry told her.
Insulting a judge definitely wasn’t a smart idea and it might cause him some problems, but there is no way he would let that slide. He wasn’t going to sit back and take the insults anymore. He wasn’t a liar and he never bragged. Was this woman four years old? She sure acted like it.
Besides, he knew her type. She loved feeling like she was superior, always in the right. He knew if he made it seem like everyone thought she was a fool, she would do anything to change that. At the end of the day, she just wanted to win. That’s why she appeals to the pureblood ideology, even though she is a half blood herself. She thinks that is the winning ideology. To her, defending the ministry and going against him is the winning option. That’s why she acts that way.
“Mr. Potter, are you saying the Ministry attacked you?” she tried to deflect.
“When did I say that? All I have done is shown you what happened to me and your making assumptions. I haven't even made a statement on what happened to me that night. Are you implying that the ministry attacked me? I hadn’t really considered that option before,” Harry said.
That was a lie. He had considered that the ministry had something to do with his attack. It just made sense. Voldemort didn’t have access to Dementors that Harry knew of and only the ministry had the means to send Dementors his way. He had no clue why the ministry would want to attack him, but who else could it be? Yeah, a lot of people wanted to kill him, but they wouldn’t do it with Dementors.
There was a possibility that two Dementors had defected, but then why hadn’t they attacked anyone else along the way? And why would they specifically target him? How did they know where he lived? Besides, Dementors aren’t known for acting on their own will, they mainly follow the Ministry’s orders.
“Well, I am struggling to come up with a reason why Dementors were there attacking you in the first place!” Umbridge shouted.
“So you admit that Dementors were there attacking me?” Harry asked.
“What? I never said such a thing!” she shrilled.
“To quote, you said you’re ‘struggling to come up with a reason why Dementors were there attacking me in the first place.’ Nowhere did you deny the existence of Dementors attacking me. You were only questioning the reason for them being there, implying that they were, in fact, there,” Harry explained.
She should really learn to watch her wording. She used to be a Slytherin so you think she would know better. He was definitely making a reach, overanalyzing what Umbridge said, but he was just trying to prove that there were Demenotrs who attacked him. The courtroom started chattering and Harry could hear people both agreeing and disagreeing with him.
“Silence!” Fudge shouted.
The courtroom fell silent once again.
Fudge continued, “Dolores does have a point, Mr. Potter. Why were there Dementors attacking you?”
“I really don’t know, sir,” Harry responded, “To be honest, that part doesn’t really concern me. People and things try to kill me all the time. I’ve given up on trying to find the reasoning behind it all and I’m not going to waste my time trying to find a motive. Besides, that part doesn’t really pertain to whether I’m innocent or not, does it?”
“I guess it doesn’t,” Fudge mused, “Still… It is odd. Hmm… Well, nevermind. I think we are ready to vote. Do you agree, Madam Bones, anything I’ve missed?”
Harry felt like there should be a little… more to the trial. He had been preparing like crazy and it ended like this? Kind of anticlimactic if you ask him. He was prepared to have to do more. They didn’t want to ask him any more questions? Like what he did after the attack and stuff? Isn’t he supposed to give a verbal account as well? It didn’t matter apparently because Madam Bones gave a nod, agreeing that they were ready to vote.
“Alright, let the voting begin. All in favor of clearing Mr. Harry James Potter of all charges, raise your wands,” Fudge ordered.
More than half of the room raised their wands. It seemed like his memories had been enough which caused Harry to breathe a sigh of relief. Looking at Dumbledore, the man had a scowl on his face as he raised his wand. Couldn’t be seen in public going against his Savior, could he? Why was he so mad anyways? Funnily enough, Umbridge didn’t raise her wand. Harry would have thought she would follow the masses. Interesting. Either he read her wrong or she really hated him.
“Please lower your wands now,” Fudge said, “All in favor of charging Mr. Harry James Potter for his crime, please raise your wands.”
Umbridge and a few others raised their wands.
“Please lower your wands. According to popular vote, Mr. Harry James Potter has been cleared of all charges of Underage Magic. He shall be allowed to continue his education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and may keep his wand. As of 8:59 a.m., this trial commences,” Fudge declared.
As soon as the Minister finished speaking, everyone got up to leave. The courtroom got loud and all Harry could think was he was so relieved this was over. He could keep his wand and more importantly, he got to return to Hogwarts. He didn’t have to be a grocery bagger. While Hogwarts had many bad memories, it also had some of his best. It is where he got to learn magic and play Quidditch. And now that he wasn’t going to hold back anymore, Harry was even more excited to return to see what he could really do.
Harry looked around for Mr. Weasley so they could leave. When he located him, Harry saw he was standing next to Dumbledore. He really did not want to deal with Dumbledore right now, but what other choice did he have? So, Harry started to make his way over to the pair, but surprisingly, he was stopped by none other than Amelia Bones.
“Congratulations on the outcome of today’s trial, Mr. Potter. You did well. Quite impressive, might I add, both your knowledge on Wizarding Law and your composure during the trial. If you ever find yourself looking for a career path in law when you graduate Hogwarts, come find me. I would be willing to personally take you on as my apprentice,” she told him.
She seemed dead serious as well, which made Harry surprised. No one had ever really complimented him on anything other than Quidditch and DADA. He hadn't even really done much. What was even more surprising was that she was offering him a job in the future when all he did was read some books.
“Thank you, ma’am. I will keep your offer in mind,” Harry responded.
He didn’t think that he would ever want a job in law, but he would be stupid to shut that door so early on.
“Good, now I best be off. I have another trial in 30 minutes. Do not forget my offer. I would like to see what you can do in the future. If you ever need help and you believe I could be of assistance, don’t hesitate to contact me. I have many connections and my daughter says you're a good man,” she said before turning and leaving.
Well, that was interesting. He didn’t know Susan talked about him. They only shared a few classes together but she seemed to be a nice enough girl. Maybe he should try to talk to her more at Hogwarts. Looking around, he relocated Mr. Weasley and Dumbledore and made his way over to them. As soon as he was in front of them, he was enthusiastically greeted by Mr. Weasley.
“Harry, congratulations! That was a great trial. I’m sure everyone will rejoice when they hear the news. How’d you know all that wizarding law stuff? I didn’t even know half of it,” he asked.
“Thanks, Mr. Weasley. I learned it all from a book I found at Sirius’s place on a coffee table. I just used what I learned there for the trial,” Harry overly simplified.
It was definitely more than one book and it wasn’t as easy as he was making it seem, but he really didn't want to mention the library. If Mr. Weasley knew about it, he would surely tell Mrs. Weasley and then she would be able to find him. Mr. Weasley was about to say something else, probably to ask about this book Harry made up, when Dumbledore interrupted their conversation.
“My boy, have I done something to anger you?” Dumbledore questioned in that falsely kind tone, acting as though Mr. Weasley and him weren’t just in a conversation, “I wish you had let me help you. I could have ensured everything went well. Besides, what if Madam Bones had messed up and taken the wrong memories?”
Harry was offended on Madam Bones behalf. She was perfectly capable of performing the spell.
“If she got the wrong memories, it would have been my fault, not hers. Her job was only to extract the memories I gave her. Meaning, if she got the wrong ones it would be because I gave her the wrong ones. I’m glad I chose her. She performed the spell well,” Harry corrected.
“Why can’t you just see I want the best for you, my boy. I would have made everything go much smoother,” Dumbledore said, trying to act like the good guy here.
“You getting a fundamental part of a simple spell wrong doesn’t really leave me assured that you could have handled my entire trial. I got the best results possible all by myself, even with everyone seemingly being against me. I am no longer expelled, I didn’t get my wand snapped, and I don’t have to go to Azkaban. I don't know how much smoother it can get. There is literally no better outcome possible,” Harry stated.
“You don’t understand, Harry. I could have handled it all,” Dumbledore continued.
How can this man not understand something so simple? Harry didn’t need him.
“And yet I did just fine by myself. It doesn’t matter that you could have done it because I didn’t need you to. Now are we going to stand here arguing over something pointless all day or are we going to leave?” Harry fumed, losing his temper a bit.
Dumbledore really knew how to get on his nerves.
“Now that is no way to talk to your headmaster,” Mr. Weasley tried to chastise, “You need to treat the man with respect. He was only trying to help.”
Since when was Mr. Weasley a part of this argument?
“And I have told him multiple times I did not need his help, something I think I proved in the trial,” Harry responded.
Right, so they were just going to stay arguing in a courtroom. The only people left were obviously listening in and Harry wouldn’t be surprised to see this argument in the Prophet tomorrow.
“I am disappointed in you, my boy. You shouldn’t be acting this way,” Dumbledore reprimanded.
“Who are you to tell me how I should and should not be acting?” Harry asked.
He wanted to shout, so badly, but he knew that would just make him look immature.
“I am the adult here and you are the child. You must listen to me,” Dumbledore scolded.
“Merlin, I'm so tired of adults using their age as an excuse to treat other unequally,” Harry sighed.
All of the anger suddenly left his body, leaving him feeling drained. He turned and left the conversation. It was clear he was getting nowhere with this argument. He could hear Mr. Weasley shouting after him, telling him to come back before he heard Dumbledore telling Mr. Weasley to leave him alone, the one good thing Dumbledore had said, like ever.
Anyways, Harry could find his own way back to Grimmauld Place if he needed to. And if it wasn’t safe to stay there anymore, he could hide out in muggle London until Hogwarts started. His trunk was already packed, he just had to be smart about when he left.
As he was walking, he started thinking about what Dumbledore had said about him being a child. He didn't really feel like a child anymore. Sure, he acted immature at some points, but he didn't feel like all the other students his age. Honestly, he may have stopped being a child the moment Uncle Vernon hit him the first time for not doing his chores correctly. Maybe even before that. The moment he had learned how to walk and Aunt Petunia deemed he was fit enough to raise himself. He wasn’t a child when Dudley was using him as a punching bag and his gang played Harry Hunting. He wasn’t a child when Aunt Petunia burned him and forced him to clean with bleach without gloves. He wasn’t a child when he was being starved and locked away in a cupboard. He wasn’t a child when he faced Voldemort year after year. He wasn’t a child.
Children are innocent. They don’t understand the evil of the world. They believe Santa is real and that the world revolves around them. They believe everything is okay. It’s easy for them to get out of bed every single day. They laugh freely and live without care of consequences.
Harry hated it when people treated him like a child because he had never really been one. He had been through too much to be one anymore. Older doesn’t always mean wiser.
Harry decided to put those thoughts out of his mind for now. He had a lobby to find.