Fudge's Trial

Fudge's Trial

A/N: Standard fanfiction disclaimer. I continue to own nothing and make nothing. Thanks to JKR for allowing us to play in her world.

This follows “The Mark,” so you should read that first. Hope you enjoy.

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The trial for Cornelius Fudge had been saved for last. Partly because he wasn't a murderous psychopath like most of the ones tried before him, partly because his name kept coming up in case after case. So much evidence had accumulated that his trial was basically ninety percent over before it even started. Hundreds of counts of bribery, each with the possibility of a conspiracy charge attached. If he was found guilty of just half of them, he would be the 'most guilty' of them all by a large factor. As tired and weary of trials as the Wizengamot and even the public had become, his had sparked a renewed interest. It would be the last, but it might also be the worst, and everyone loved the worst. Rita started covering it a week before the opening 'hear ye, hear ye.' It was slated to start at ten a.m., and by half six the line for both the public gallery and the press section were winding back and forth through the atrium.

Though nobody recognized it at the time, the first sign of trouble was when Fudge was asked if he was willing to take veritaserum, with the veiled threat of 'or do we have to force it down you' left unspoken. His reply of "I insist on it," was merely shrugged off by everyone as mere bravado and politi-speak.

The three drops were given, and the questioning began.

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Three weeks in, and though they still had half the list of charges to go through, it wasn't looking good for the prosecution. Time after time Fudge said, with veritaserum backed sincerity, that he had no knowledge of the dastardly plots his donors may have had and wanted him to participate in, and that any monies given to him were just campaign contributions, and most certainly not bribes. That he was the chairman and CEO of his re-election committee meant that he was in control of all that money, and paid himself handsomely for exercising that control, but it was a loophole in their laws that it wasn't illegal. Soon to be remedied, of course, but even the Wizengamot couldn't get any changes to take effect retroactively.

Any recommendations he gave for a person for a position, or for voting for or against a piece of legislation or regulation were because he was honestly believed that it was the right thing to do.

It didn't matter what the intent of the other party was, or what they were convicted of. Fudge sat there and was able to prove that his intent was never bribery. Or conspiracy. Or malfeasance. Being completely gullible wasn't a crime, unfortunately.

Even the Kiss given to Barty Crouch, Jr, was technically legal. Previously sentenced, and escaped from Azkaban, he basically had no rights, and he clearly was, or at least had recently been, a threat. To the entire population of magical children in England no less. It would have certainly been a good idea to question him thoroughly, but it wasn't illegal not to. By the time the questioning about Crouch was over, half the Wizengamot thought they should be thanking him, not putting him on trial.

Finally, in frustration, Chief Prosecutor Hughes completely lost his temper and yelled out "Nearly every thing you did helped Voldemort, when did you first start working for him?" His immediate apology and retraction of the question mixed with Fudge's advocate's loud "Objection!" and the Chief Witch's loud "Prosecutor Hughes!" so that Fudge's "I would never work for a mere half-blood" was nearly totally missed.

Two of the people who did hear it were in the front row of the public gallery. Hermione sat up with even more indignation than she'd been feeling the last couple of weeks at his slur. They'd always suspected he was a pure blood bigot, but was so bumbling and ineffective it seemed accidental when it happened, like he couldn't understand what all the fuss was about and was surprised by being called out on it. An idiot, and not put together enough to actually be evil.

Now it seemed that the only he defense he needed was that he was indeed so bumbling and ineffective. After all they'd been through, through the battles and trials and completely gutting the Wizengamot, and still Fudge might get off. It was enough to make her regret bringing her parents back from Australia instead of joining them there.

Luna, however, leaned back in her seat and stared off into space. Something about that statement was important. Very important. She rolled it around in her head a few times. Whispered it to herself a few times more. Spelled it backwards and checked every third letter to see if there was a hidden message. Nothing. Chanted it backwards to see it summoned a demon or some pudding or a parchment with the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth on it. Still nothing. But it was still important. She just knew it.

She fished her DA galleon out of her pocket and started rubbing it with her thumb. It was a habit she found comforting. It reminded her that she had friends, and helped her think. After a while, she started turning it over and over in her hand, and suddenly was struck that that was very important, too. She stared at her coin as her hand flipped it. Heads, tails. Heads, tails. First one side, then the other. Why was a flipping coin important? Or was it a coin flipping? Random chance? Trials were certainly not about random chance. One side, then the other. The other side of the coin. The other side of the coin!

"That's it!" she shouted excitedly. Which brought the trial to a screeching halt as everyone, including even Fudge, stopped to stare at her.

"Is there a problem, Miss Lovegood?" asked the Chief Witch.

"Oh yes, your honor. Well, several actually, but they'll all be fixed soon. So I guess there really aren't any problems at all."

"Er, right then. Just keep it down, or we'll have to eject you from the court."

"Yes, your honour. Sorry, your honour. Thank you, your honour."

As the trial got underway again, she tugged urgently at Hermione's sleeve.

"What?" she asked in annoyance.

"He's doing it wrong," Luna said in an excited whisper, thrusting her coin in Hermione's face.

"What?" she asked irritably, pushing the coin aside.

"Oh, I forgot. You usually have to walk step by step when you think, before you can dance and skip."

"What?" asked Hermione again, more confused than ever.

Luna sighed. Small step after very small step. So many small steps. She had no idea how Hermione got through life. Maybe she needed a coin. If only she had taken hers when she'd offered. She would try again. "If I give you this coin in order to influence you to do something naughty for me, that's bribery, right?"

"Yes…?"

"And Prosecutor Hughes is asking very specifically about bribery over and over, and hasn't been right yet, has he?"

"Apparently not."

"So like Chief Prosecutor Mitchell before him, he's not asking the right questions, is he?"

"But Mitchell was being bribed by Malfoy. They've cleared Hughes with both a vow and veritaserum."

"Which just means he's not doing it on purpose. He's still not doing it right. He's thinking like a prosecutor, not like a criminal. Fudge is thinking like a criminal, which means he's already thought like a prosecutor."

"Get to the point, Luna."

"Well, if you demand the coin from me," she said turning it over and placing it into Hermione's hands, "as part of making me do something naughty for you, to keep you from throwing me in Azkaban, or exposing my secrets, I'm still giving you the coin, but it's not bribery, is it?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed in thought, before widening in surprise. "No, that would be extortion or blackmail."

"So when Prosecutor Hughes asks Fudge about bribery…."

"He can honestly say he wasn't bribed."

"Did anyone actually say they were bribing Fudge, or just admit to giving him money?"

"I—I don't remember."

"And even if they thought it was a bribe, but Fudge didn't…."

"It doesn't matter since we've proven Fudge didn't think it was a bribe, and he can prove his actions weren't a result of the money. We're basically providing his defense for him."

"But if Fudge isn't a lowly co-conspirator or patsy being bribed to pass those laws, or hire those people, or let criminals go…."

Hermione's eyes narrowed again. Enough so that Luna knew that her thoughts were finally dancing and skipping and twirling, with a wand in each hand, blasting everything in sight to smithereens. It was, as usual, a wonder to behold. She was right, all Hermione had needed was the coin.

"He's the one in charge," she growled out.

"And he'd never work for a half-blood like Riddle…." Luna quoted.

"But he'd certainly have one working for him."

Luna smiled. Lucius had gotten off easy, being tossed through the Veil. Fudge, however, was now in deeeep Snorkack doo doo.

She had to grab Hermione's arm to keep her from either yelling out or vaulting the rail and rushing down to the court floor to take over for Prosecutor Hughes. Harry, who'd been keeping an eye on their conversation, finally leaned over to ask what was going on. A minute later, Hermione was holding his arm to keep him from rushing down to the court floor, and it wouldn't have been to take over from Prosecutor Hughes.

Luna sat back in her chair again, pulling out another coin and rolling it in her hand. Yes, it was nice to have friends. They'd waited this long, they could wait a few hours more.

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Shacklebolt sat behind his desk, with Prosecutor Hughes beside him, a very worried look on his face. The last time these two sat there, they'd had to review nearly every Death Eater trial and had put a good chunk of the Wizengamot on trial, and subsequently in prison, as well.

The addition of Luna Lovegood wasn't reassuring. At all.

"What now?" was all he could manage.

Hermione looked left and right at Harry and Luna, who was now rolling her coin over the knuckles of both hands hypnotically like the Unspeakable had a few weeks earlier. Struck by the absurdity, she laughed and just said, "You're doing it wrong."

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A/N: It's not what a politician says, it not even what they do necessarily, it's the results of what they do. Even for someone with the degree of personality disorder as a certain world leader (or two, see John Oliver's musings (bumbling Boris is bumbling on purpose)), what they do makes sense to them, even if it boggles the mind of the rest of us. It's silly to wait for them to think and act like the rest of us, or like any other president, or what any of us expect any other president would act like. Thinking and acting like they do has gotten them pretty far, thank you very much, like the most powerful position in the whole effin country, and they have no reason to change.