On the Precipice

The next several days were blissfully Burke-free. It was possible that the man had previously scheduled these days off, but the prisoners all assumed it was because of Albert’s gift. Harry smiled whenever he pictured Burke opening the package and getting dosed by an aggravated plant.

Harry spent these days reviewing coursework with the death eaters. The Lestrange brothers and Mulciber seemed impressed with how quickly Harry picked up all of the defense against the dark arts spells, and consequently the dark arts. Harry wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was finding the dark arts lessons morbidly interesting. He no longer protested learning dark spells, and even asked questions to ensure he had a good grasp of what he was learning. Mulciber kept saying Harry was some sort of prodigy. Harry thought it was ridiculous but felt oddly flattered all the same.

Harry had the most trouble with his new subjects. Alchemy was interesting but Albert and Harry found themselves limited. Harry had a hard time memorizing formulas and working through equations without the ability to take notes. Harry could tell Albert was frustrated. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was letting the man down and felt horrible about it.

Ancient studies were more interesting than Harry expected them to be. The problems Harry had in those lessons arose whenever the Lestrange brothers focused on wizard superiority. Harry felt the need to rebel against that on principle. These lessons inevitably devolved into debates. Harry grew frustrated that all his tutors supported each other during these arguments.

“Harry,” Lucius said in a tone that was meant to placate him, “it’s hard to believe in the good of muggles when most of our grandparents actually lived through decades of witch hunts.”

“Of course, towards the end, they were mostly killing their own,” Lestrange laughed from the cell next to Harry. Harry felt a little sick at the thought regardless of who the victims were.

“They don’t do that any more,” he tried to reason.

“Because they no longer believe in witches and wizards. If they did, they would start burning us at the stake again,” stated Albert.

“Some, maybe,” Harry conceded because he knew better than any of them what muggles who feared wizards were capable of. Harry was pretty sure that the Dursleys were unhappy they couldn’t pawn Harry off on a priest and be done with him. “But there are many more that are decent people,” he insisted. Hermione’s parents would never just stand by if someone tried to burn or drown her just for being a witch.

Unfortunately, Harry never seemed to change their minds. Neither did they succeeded in changing Harry’s mind. So, while Harry found the lessons initially intriguing, they inevitably ended in the same arguments with both sides frustrated.

The other subjects were similar to Harry’s experiences at Hogwarts. Someone would go over the theory, and if there was an incantation, Albert or Lucius would demonstrate the wand movements. The major difference was that these lessons moved quickly. Harry didn’t have to wait for an entire class to master the spell before moving on. And having multiple tutors meant that when Harry got stuck on the theory, another man would jump in to try explaining it in a different way. Harry was worried that he was learning too much and wouldn’t be able to retain all the information. When Harry expressed these concerns, Lucius decided that they would hold random pop quizzes. Thus far, the men were pleased that Harry was remembering a good portion of the lessons. On the rare occasion that he got stuck, someone would jump in to review the parts that gave him trouble. By the end of his third full day of lesson, Harry was itching for his wand. He hadn’t been this excited about magic since he’d learnt he was a wizard.

The only downside to these days were the increased visits from the dementors. Two dementors were constantly popping by to visit Harry and ask questions. One dementor introduced himself. To Harry, his name sounded like Ash-er-rath. He was the first dementor Harry had met in Azkaban. He introduced his mate as Ish-an-ders. Their interest still made Harry nervous, but he was keenly aware of Crabbe’s pitiful whimpers next door, so he willingly answered their questions. The questions seemed random and Harry couldn’t figure out why they would want to know things like his favourite colour or food. It was obvious they weren’t asking just to get to know Harry, but he couldn’t tell how knowing Harry had a weakness for treacle tart would provide any insight into whatever was going on. They had yet to explain to Harry why they found him so interesting.

“Well what’s your favourite colour?” Harry asked Asherath. He thought perhaps if he learnt their answers to the questions, he might be able to figure out what they wanted from him.

“We do not see colours like humans do,” answered Asherath, “I believe the term you use is colourblind.”

“We do see blue. I rather like the colour blue,” added Ishanders.

“I prefer the white of a soul,” stated Asherath. “Do you see all human colours?”

“Yes,” answered Harry, slightly perturbed. And that was the problem with Harry asking them questions in turn. It would unavoidably lead back to discussing souls. When Harry had stupidly asked them what their favourite food was, he was reminded that they only ate one thing: souls. When Ishanders added “the younger the better,” Harry decided he would stop asking them questions. He didn’t want to know.

Harry quickly fell into a routine. Lucius would start their morning with a pop quiz. If Harry remembered a spell that he had covered earlier in the year, he would tell them so they could review the theory and practice the wand movements. Similarly, if Harry remembered a potion he had worked on, or a magical creature he covered in class, that would be reviewed before any new content was covered. Most of the day was spent on Harry’s lessons. Harry would call it a day when he started to feel overwhelmed. His tutors usually respected this, but occasionally Lucius or Albert would push him to keep going. Harry wondered if their sons felt just as much pressure to live up to their expectations.

Evenings were spent casually conversing. Occasionally someone would ask Harry about his life, but often the men seemed inclined to share details about their lives. Harry tended to pay more attention whenever Lucius or Crabbe talked about their sons. Harry thought it was because he knew Draco and Vincent, though both Lucius and Albert noticed Harry perked up more whenever Draco was mentioned. Harry became suspicious when Albert started asking Lucius questions about Draco, successfully steering the conversation back to Harry’s rival. It seemed especially odd given that Albert rarely talked about his own son. Whenever Harry asked a question about Theodore, Albert would merely say something along the lines of his son was a smart and capable boy. It left Harry with the impression that Albert didn’t spend much time with his son. It was odd given how much fatherly interest Albert was showing Harry.

Harry wouldn’t say his stay in Azkaban was comfortable, but he grew accustomed to the easy comradery he had with his fellow prisoners. He even became desensitized to having dementors constantly stop by and observe him. By the time Harry was herded into the showers again, he wasn’t as reluctant to disrobe. It helped that Burke wasn’t leering at him.

Without Burke and Jugson to distract him, Harry was more aware of his surroundings. He was shocked when he realized that many of the men were taking the opportunity to masturbate while the water would wash away the aftermath. Harry didn’t know how they could be comfortable enough to do that in a room full of people. Even if Harry had been alone, he wasn’t confident he would be able to rub one out. Azkaban’s general atmosphere had dulled his sex drive. He was thankful that neither Lucius nor Albert were horny enough to do anything while Harry had a clear view of them.

Lucius once again complained that the water turned cold far too fast. The man was used to indulging in long hot showers, so Azkaban’s accommodations would never compare. Harry was almost thankful that it hadn’t lasted any longer, because he had noticed that Rodolphus was indulging in a little self-love and that was something Harry didn’t need to stick around to hear.

“I need a shave,” remarked Albert as he ran his hand along his chin. He patted Harry’s shoulder and told him “stick close to Lucius,” before he walked away. Harry watched him move towards a small line up of prisoners that were waiting for a guard to spell away any unwanted facial hair.

“Er, why don’t you need a shave?” Harry asked Lucius as he realized the man was as cleanshaven as ever.

“I use a potion that prevents hair growth,” Lucius blinked in surprise. “It only works for 18 months at a time, but it hasn’t worn off yet.”

It occurred to Harry that the man probably thought Harry had done the same given he barely had any facial hair to speak of. “Oh,” Harry blushed.

“Don’t worry, Potter,” said Mulciber as he saddled up to them, thankfully fully dressed. “We know you got hair where it counts,” even though he ruffled the hair on Harry’s head, it was clear he was referring to something else.

“Could you not be vile for five minutes?” sneered Lucius.

“Nope,” Mulciber answered, not in the least intimidated by Lucius.

“You should go get a shave as well,” Lucius responded as he made a shooing motion at the man.

“Don’t really trusts the guards pointing their wands at my face,” answered Mulciber. Frankly, Harry couldn’t blame him for that.

Lucius steered Harry back to the line up while Crabbe appeared and convinced Mulciber to get a shave after all.

“I swear that man was raised in a barn,” Lucius said, exasperated.

“It’s fine,” Harry said. Sure Mulciber was crude and inappropriate, but he didn’t give Harry the heebie-jeebies like Burke did.

Harry grew increasingly antsy while they waited for the other prisoners to finish up and get in line. He was practically vibrating by the time Albert rejoined them.

“Relax,” Albert said. “Burke still isn’t back.”

“It’s not that,” responded Harry. The last time the prisoners were allowed a shower, it was because Albert was seeing his judicial-wizard. The guards wanted to make sure he looked presentable to give the impression they were doing a good job. Harry couldn’t help but wonder if today’s shower meant good news for him. “Do you think all this means that Hale finally managed to set up a meeting with me?” he asked.

“It’s likely,” Albert responded. It was equally likely that the meeting was meant for Albert.

By the time they were led back to their cells, Harry was a nervous wreck. He paced in the limited space of his cell. The other prisoners tried to offer encouragement, but Harry was too anxious to do more than listen attentively for the guards to open door again. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually he heard the door open and a guard announce that Harry’s judicial-wizard was here to see him. If possible, Harry grew even more nervous, but that could be because it was Wiblin that ordered him to face the wall and put his hands behind his back. Harry could only hope it went better than the last time this happened.

Harry was led to a room not far from where he was given his tattoo. As they approached the door, Harry noted that there was a large window that allowed anyone in the hallway to look into the room. Harry noted that a man was already waiting in the room and had a bunch of items laid out on a table in front of him. Harry only had enough time to notice the camera before he was being pulled forward.

The man stood up as the guards brought Harry in. He waited until Harry’s hands were unspelled before he moved forward and offered his hand. “Reginald Hale,” the man introduced himself.

“Harry Potter,” Harry responded as he shook his hand.

There was a brief pause as Hale pointedly looked at the guards. With reluctance, the guards left and closed the door behind them. Harry was happy to see them leave even if they stayed by the window to observe the meeting. He knew they wouldn’t be able to listen to what was said.

“Please sit,” Hale said. He wasn’t quite what Harry was expecting. Given that Lucius and Albert had spoken so highly of the man, Harry had expected a pureblood with a holier-than-thou attitude. The man was certainly dressed in an expensive robe, but otherwise didn’t look like most pureblood wizards Harry knew. For one thing, the man’s hair was shorter than most purebloods his age seemed to prefer. Hale styled it so it still screamed ‘expensive’, but it almost seemed like a muggle hairstyle. Furthermore, the man has built in a way that Harry had come to expect only from Quidditch players. Unlike most wizards Harry knew, Hale seemed like he spent a good portion of his time exercising and building muscle. It made the man appear imposing. His apperance probably helped him in his chosen career.

“The good news is that your case is playing out favourably in the media,” Hale said jumping right to it. “You were starting to lose some support. Dumbledore’s... failure to have you released immediately was lending credibility to the ministry’s unorthodox approach. After speaking to Mr. Nott, I had enough information to steer the media into looking into last year’s ministry-approved detentions. Reporters have been interviewing students non-stop these past couple of days.”

“Who?” Harry asked. He couldn’t help but wonder if his friends had been interviewed and if so, what they said.

“There have been dozens of students willing to go on record,” Hale responded. “The public outcry has not been good for the ministry’s image. If we tie you in as another victim, we can use the public anger to regain some sympathy for you.”

Harry didn’t like being labelled as a victim, but he knew this was coming.

“With your permission, I would like to photograph your hand,” Hale said as he observed the hand in question. “And the tattoo you were unlawfully given by Azkaban’s guards.”

Harry didn’t like. He really didn’t. He still hadn’t come to terms with having the tattoo, so the thought of willingly splashing it on the front page of a newspaper was terrifying. It had taken considerable effort for Albert and Lucius to convince him it was the best course of action. “OK,” Harry reluctantly agreed.

“Great! Let’s get that out of the way now,” Hale stated. However, instead of picking up the camera that was on the table, the man picked up a comb. To Harry’s surprise, he leaned over and started to comb through Harry’s hair.

“Er,” Harry sputtered, feeling more than a little awkward.

“The state that Azkaban keeps their prisoners in is something we can use to garner sympathy, but for now we want people to focus on a specific thing. If they’re too busy staring at your hair, they won’t be focusing on the tattoo,” Hale explained. He was surprisingly gentle as he worked to untangle Harry’s hair. After a few minutes he leaned back and frowned.

“I think I made it worse,” he said.

“My hair has never been cooperative,” Harry explain.

“I’ll bring product next time,” the man sighed. He tried to flatten Harry’s hair as much as possible.

“Could you pull down the collar of your shirt?” Hale asked as he set down the comb and picked up the camera. “Great. Now, tilt your head... Perfect. Keep that expression.”

Harry didn’t know what expression he was making, but he was sure it wasn’t flattering. He was uncomfortable and embarrassed, but that was probably what Hale was aiming for. After a few shots of Harry’s tattoo, he asked to see Harry’s hand. He took a few pictures of the scar. Normally Azkaban’s low lighting would have made the scar hard to see, but Hale had brought his own light. As the man was not allowed to bring in his wand, he brought in an orb that glowed. It looked a little like a lightbulb.

Hale was smirking as he put down the camera. It was such a smarmy lawyer look that Harry would have been worried had it been aimed at him. Luckily it was aimed at the guards that were standing nervously by the window watching the interview from the hallway.

“I would like to ask you about your scar, tattoo and experiences in Azkaban. If it’s ok with you, I would like to note your responses,” Hale gestured to a notepad and quill – the remaining items on the table. Albert had previously explained that the quill was spelled to write down Harry’s words verbatim. Luckily it couldn’t capture his tone or note any unnatural pauses Harry might make. In other words, no matter how rehearsed Harry sounded, that was something only he and Hale would know. Which was a good thing, because Albert and Lucius had coached him on what he should say to the questions that Hale was going to ask him. Hale could then use Harry’s responses with both the media and on any official documents he submitted to the ministry on Harry’s behalf.

While Hale waited for Harry to gather his thoughts (and courage), he rolled up his sleeves. It temporarily distracted Harry as something about the action registered as wrong to him. It wasn’t until he shivered, that Harry realized Azkaban was too cold for Hale to have done so because he was warm. Harry frowned at the man’s arms. It took him a moment to realize what was bothering him was the fact that there was no tattoo. He had become used to seeing dark marks on the arms of everyone around him, that an unmarked arm registered as odd to him now. Harry felt bad for assuming Hale was a death eater simply because he represented so many of them. This was Hale’s way of assuring Harry that he wasn’t directly answering to the man that wanted to kill Harry. It didn’t mean that he wouldn’t indirectly support Voldemort’s agenda, but Harry did feel better knowing the man wasn’t a death eater.

“I consent,” Harry said. Hale nodded and placed the quill above the notepad. He began asking Harry questions, and Harry answered them as he had practiced with his mentors. The answers might have been rehearsed but the sentiments were real. Harry wanted to speak out against the ministry, especially Umbridge. Lucius and Albert simply helped ensure he would do so elegantly.

Despite being prepared, it was difficult for Harry to talk about everything. Especially the part where he decided to bring Sirius in. Harry wasn’t comfortable using his godfather as a tool for his own release, but he did want retribution for Sirius. So, when he spoke about the ministry locking him away without a trial, it was easy to remind the world that the ministry had a history of doing this. Since no one was telling him anything about scheduling a trial, he was starting to believe the ministry planned to keep him in Azkaban indefinitely no matter how unlawful it was.

Hale was patient throughout the process and allowed Harry to review everything once they were done. When the quill was no longer recording their conversation, Hale laid out his plan of action for Harry.

“The groundwork has been done for your blood quill scar. I can build on the outrage to frame it as the ministry having been out to get you for years. It may even cause some people to assume the ministry made up the charges they arrested you for,” Hale said. Harry was glad the man didn’t ask Harry if he was guilty as Harry didn't like admitting it. Harry knew Hale must know. As the death eaters told him when he arrived, the ministry had all the proof they needed. The goal here was to get the public on Harry side so that the ministry would pardon him regardless.

“I will also release the pictures of your tattoo. That is not yet public knowledge, so that is sure to cause quite the stir. Imprisoning you without a trial is bad enough, but this. This is going too far. The ministry is not only scarring children, but branding them too? It won’t go over well. Once the public is suitably is upset, I will release a statement that you are willing not to press charges for the tattoo if the ministry stops holding you illegally. It will present you as kind and forgiving – a clear contrast to how the ministry is behaving,” Hale summarized. Harry nodded even though he did not forgive Burke or Wiblin. He would love to press charges, but if letting it go allowed him to be released, he would suck it up.

“I will also submit your official request to be released or given a trial date,” Hale continued. “This would have been done sooner but Dumbledore was protesting the validity of my claim as your judicial-wizard,” the man sounded frustrated for the first time since the interview started.

“Why?” Harry asked.

“He claimed he was already working as your judicial representative. However, I was able to prove that he never even attempted to visit you, so there was no proof you consented to his representation,” Hale answered. Harry flinched. It hurt to hear that Dumbledore didn’t try to see him. It pained him that the headmaster didn’t trust him to speak for himself like he was doing now with Hale. Harry hadn’t exactly helped himself when the aurors showed up to arrest him, but he would have worked with Dumbledore if the man had shared his plan to get Harry released. What hurt even more was the knowledge that Dumbledore hadn’t tried to see him just to make sure he was OK.

“I anticipate that the ministry will try to stall as much as they can. I don’t know the goal, but you seem to be a pawn in a tug of war they’re having with Dumbledore. But I am more than happy to point this out to the public and let it blow up in their faces,” Hale explained. “By the time you go to trial, convicting you will be a career-ending move to whoever is stubborn enough to try.”

Harry wasn’t completely convinced the plan would work. He knew the minister was desperate to gain public support. Since Harry made it clear he wasn’t going to help with that goal, the ministry would likely fight back by painting him as a delinquent. There was no guarantee that people would believe him over the ministry.

“What if the ministry does set a trial date?” Harry asked.

“Then you and I will regroup and strategize a new course of action,” it helped that Hale didn’t seem all that phased by the idea of his initial plan not working as they hoped. “And even with a trial date, we can still work to win over the public.”

“Thank you,” Harry said sincerely.

“It’s what I do,” responded Hale.

Both Harry and Hale stood up once their meeting was coming to a close. Harry realized there was one more aspect they hadn’t discussed.

“Wait! How am I supposed to pay you? I can’t exactly go to Gringotts,” Harry worried.

Hale looked a little awkward as he revealed, “Albert Nott has already covered my fee.”

“What?” Harry frowned.

“You can always arrange to pay him back once you’re able to get to your funds,” Hale suggested. Harry nodded but dwelled on the fact that Albert had paid for his clearly expensive judicial-wizard.

“Thank you, Mr. Hale,” Harry repeated as the guards entered the room at Hale’s signal.

“Reginald, please,” the man said.

“Hands on the table, Potter,” Wiblin ordered. Harry was mortified as he was patted down to make sure Reginald hadn’t sneaked him some contraband items. Once satisfied, the guards spelled Harry’s hands behind his back. As Wiblin was pulling him from the room, Harry heard the click of a picture being taken. Both Harry and the guard turned to look at Reginald who had the camera pointed at them. Harry didn’t like it, but trusted Reginald by now. The reason Reginald took his picture at the start of the interview was because Harry was still tense and uncomfortable. That would come through in the pictures. Harry was tense again because Wiblin was holding him tightly. It brought back bad memories. However, at the click of the camera, the guard loosened his hold. He was more cautious as he led Harry back to his cell.