Chapter 1
Sentenced to Death
Saturday, 12th August 1995, 8:03 a.m
In Courtroom Ten, the Ministry of Magic
Harry walked through the doors of Courtroom Ten, feeling relieved that he had arrived almost an hour early—
A cold male voice rang across the courtroom.
"You're late."
"No, I'm not," Harry said. He drew his wand and worked the Tempus Charm. "I'm fifty-seven minutes early."
"The time of your trial was changed this morning," said the voice. "We sent you an owl an hour ago. You are expected to be here on time, boy. Now take your seat."
Annoyed Harry murmured, "They changed the trial time this morning? Is this even legal?"
Meanwhile, the voice gestured towards a chair that faced himself, and about fifty or so men and women. The men and women wore plum-coloured robes with an elaborately worked silver W on the left-hand side of the chest.
As Harry walked towards the chair, he noticed that steel chains were attached to the chair, at the top of the front legs and at the front of the armrests.
When Harry sat down in the chair, the chains rattled, as if Harry had given the chair a hard shaking.
"Ah, made it," drawled a voice behind Harry, at the door. Recognising the voice, Harry's fists clenched. The voice drawled again: "I don't want to miss this."
Lucius Malfoy, himself wearing plum-coloured robes, strolled into the courtroom. He walked, unhurried, to the part of the courtroom where the other purple-robed people sat. Malfoy shook several men's hands before finally taking his seat—in a posh, high-backed, black-leather chair with the Malfoy crest on the headrest.
During all this time that Lucius Malfoy, having arrived late, took more time to walk across the courtroom and to take his seat, Cornelius Fudge, the man who was presiding at Harry's trial, showed no anger and spoke not one word of rebuke.
Now the people in plum-coloured robes all stared at Harry. Lucius Malfoy was wearing a smirk; some looked at Harry with very austere expressions; whilst the faces of others up there showed looks of frank curiosity.
In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic. Fudge was a portly man who often sported a lime-green bowler hat, though today he had dispensed with it; he had dispensed too with the indulgent smile he had once worn when he spoke to Harry. A witch with very short grey hair—but with a face that looked thirtyish—sat on Fudge's left; she wore a monocle and looked serious. On Fudge's right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was in shadow.
"Very well," said Fudge. "The accused being present—finally—let us begin. Are you ready?" he called down the row.
"Yes, sir," said an eager voice Harry knew. Ron's brother Percy was sitting at the very end of the front bench. Harry looked at Percy, expecting some sign of recognition from him, but none came; Percy's eyes, behind his horn-rimmed glasses, were fixed on his parchment, a quill poised in his hand.
"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, "into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at Number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."
Lucius Malfoy said, "Pardon, Cornelius, would you repeat that address, please?"
Cornelius replied, "Harry James Potter is resident at Number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."
"Thank you. Go on," said Malfoy.
"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; and Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley—"
"—Advisor for the defence, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," said a quiet voice from behind Harry, who turned his head so fast he cricked his neck.
Dumbledore was striding serenely across the room, wearing long midnight-blue robes and a perfectly calm expression. His long silver beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with Harry, and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose.
"Cornelius," simpered the hidden-faced witch to Fudge's right. "You forgot to seal the doors. Do we want anyone to walk in on the boy's trial?"
"Quite right, quite right," replied Fudge. In a ringing voice, he commanded, "Seal the doors!"
Harry suddenly heard behind him, the clanking of chains. When he turned to look, he saw that the two doors into Courtroom Ten were now surrounded by steel eyelets in the wall, which might or might not have been there before; and running between those eyelets were many chains that covered the doors. The links of those door-chains were thick enough that an elephant could not snap them.
When Harry faced forwards again, he saw Fudge smirking at him. That smirk said You can forget making a surprise run out of the courtroom, boy.
Harry heard a woman's voice say, "I wish Fudge would hurry up and get on with it."
Harry turned his head to seek out who had spoken; Harry looked up and to his right. Next to a group of mostly-empty seats labelled "VISITORS," was a section of seats labelled "PRESS." Sitting in the Press Box was a man whom Harry did not recognise—and Rita Skeeter. Skeeter had her acid-green quill clutched in her long-nailed hand, and she was giving Harry an eager and cruel smile.
Harry thought, Here I am, on trial for a bullshit charge, with at least three enemies in the room, and I'm not sure about Dumbledore. The only way for my life to get worse right now would be if someone dumped a bucket of pig's blood on my head.
Harry gathered that he was supposed to feel alone and scared now, and pathetically grateful for whatever paltry "help" Dumbledore deigned to give. But Harry did not feel alone, scared or grateful now—no, Harry felt annoyed.
Fudge extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read, "The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy."
Then Fudge's voice shifted from officious to scornful. "You are Harry James Potter, of Number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Fudge asked, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment.
"Yes," Harry said.
"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?"
"Yes, but—"
"And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?" said Fudge.
"Yes," said Harry, "but—"
"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?"
"Yes, but—"
"Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?"
"Yes, but—"
"Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?"
"Yes," said Harry angrily, "but I only used it because we were—"
The witch with the monocle on Fudge's left, cut across him in a booming voice.
"You produced a fully fledged Patronus?"
"Yes," said Harry, "because—"
"A corporeal Patronus?"
"A—what?" said Harry.
"Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapour or smoke?"
"Yes," said Harry, now feeling impatient and still feeling annoyed. "It's a stag, it's always a stag."
"Always?" asked Madam Bones. "You have produced a Patronus before now?"
"Yes," said Harry, "I've been doing it for over a year—"
"And you are fifteen years old?"
"Yes, and—"
"You learnt this at school?"
"Yes, Professor Lupin taught me in my third year, because of the—"
"Impressive," said Madam Bones, staring down at him, "a true Patronus at that age—very impressive indeed."
"THANK YOU," Harry yelled, having decided to drown out any further interruptions. "I wonder, am I even needed here? Two questioners, and you both keep interrupting me. Why don't I wait out in the corridor whilst you two get together with Percy and make up my answers, with you pretending for the record that I'd answered your questions fully, which neither of you have let me do."
Madam Bones looked regretful. "Mr Potter, your point is well taken."
Lucius Malfoy drawled, "The boy has no manners."
Harry replied, "Neither does your son. What's your point?"
Dumbledore said, "Harry my boy, I fear Lord Malfoy is correct. Right now you are acting quite ill-mannered. Behave yourself, be quiet, and let me handle your defence."
Harry made a Be my guest gesture.
Fudge interrupted the conversation between Harry and Dumbledore to say, "Fine, the boy claims he can summon a corporeal Patronus. That's impressive, assuming he's telling the truth. But it's not a question of how impressive the magic was. In fact, the more impressive, the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the boy did it in plain view of a Muggle!"
"I did it because of the Dementors!" Harry yelled, before anyone could interrupt him again.
Silence.
"Dementors?" said Madam Bones after a moment, raising her grey eyebrows so that her monocle looked in danger of falling out. "What do you mean, Mr Potter?"
"I mean there were two Dementors down that alleyway, and they went for me and my cousin!"
"Your 'cousin.' Of course," Lucius Malfoy drawled. "I'm sure your Muggle 'cousin' is female, nubile, and quite gullible. Gullible enough to believe 'Sweetie, I saved you from monsters you can't see! I deserve a reward.' "
"I agree with all you said, Lord Malfoy," simpered the shadow-faced witch to Fudge's right. "Clearly the boy is a liar."
As the witch leant forwards to stare Harry down (or rather, to try tostare Harry down), Harry finally got a good look at her. She was in her forties, she was wearing eyeball-stomping pink robes, she had a black bow in her hair, and her face reminded Harry of a toad's face. She was pudgy.
"Dementors in Little Whinging?" Madam Bones said in tones of great surprise. "I don't understand—"
"Don't you, Amelia?" said Fudge, still smirking. "Let me explain. He's been thinking it through, and decided Dementors would make a very nice little cover story, very nice indeed. Muggles can't see Dementors, can they, boy? Highly convenient, highly convenient. So it's your word only, and no witnesses—"
"I'm not lying!" said Harry loudly, over another outbreak of muttering from the court. "There were two of them, coming from opposite ends of the alley. Everything went dark and cold, and my cousin felt them and ran for it—"
"Enough, enough!" said Fudge with a very patronising look on his face. "I'm sorry to interrupt what I'm sure would have been a very well-rehearsed story—"
"Pardon me for interrupting," Harry said sarcastically. "But this is a magical courtroom, is it not? I'm telling the truth, and surely there must be some way to show I'm telling the truth."
Madam Bones said thoughtfully, "We could use three drops of Veritaserum, or have him take an oath—"
"Harry," Dumbledore said forcefully, "as your magical guardian, I forbid any means of magical truth-telling. It would be dangerous for you."
Harry snarled, "Old man, you're doing it again. A year ago, when you pulled my name out of the Goblet of Fire, you stood up in front of hundreds of people and basically said that my name came out of the Goblet because I'd cheated. Then later, when it was proven that it was Barty Crouch, Jr who'd put my name in, did you publicly apologise to me? Ha! Now you're calling me a liar—just like Fudge, just like Lucy, just like the witch in pink are saying about me. You're sacked as my defender—especially as it was you, not me, who appointed you to be such!"
"Harry my boy, now is not the time for adolescent tantrums."
Harry ignored Dumbledore, and asked Madam Bones, "How do I prove I'm telling the truth?"
She looked regretful. "I am truly sorry, Mr Potter, but Headmaster Dumbledore, your magical guardian, has forbidden those means to be used."
Dumbledore gave Harry his grandfatherly smile. "Don't worry, Harry my boy, we're still in the fight."
Then Dumbledore turned to face Fudge et al. "We do, in fact, have a witness to the presence of Dementors in that alleyway. Other than Harry's cousin, Dudley Dursley, I mean."
Harry said, "Tell them, my cousin Dudley knows—"
"Harry. Let me handle your defence."
Mrs Figg, clearly nervous, gave testimony. Fudge, Malfoy, and the toad-woman mocked Mrs Figg for being a Squib, which did not boost her confidence. Also, it became clear that whilst she had felt the effects of the Dementors (feeling cold, and a complete lack of happiness), she had not seen the Dementors that night. And since she claimed this very thing, to have seen the Dementors, she was caught in a lie.
To underscore this point, Fudge ordered one of the two doors unsealed, and ordered the two Aurors to bring a "tame" Dementor into the courtroom. Mrs Figg was unable to see the Dementor.
Fudge then could have ordered Mrs Figg sent to Azkaban, but for whatever reason, he chose not to. Still, this did not change the fact that Mrs Figg testifying, and Dumbledore calling her to testify, had hurt Harry's case. Thanks a lot, Dumbledore.
Seconds later
Lucius Malfoy drawled, "I believe that this Squib has been coachedwhat to say, and"—Malfoy stared at Dumbledore—"she knows she had better say it, or else." Then Malfoy, with a smirk, added, "I'm surprised she didn't claim to see the Dark Lord there, alive, in that unimportant village of hers."
By now, Mrs Figg was weeping in the witness chair.
Harry said, "Why should Voldy be in Little Whinging, when he likes to meet up with his Imperiused mates in Little Hangleton?"
Malfoy replied, "Boy, if you keep throwing out slanders that you can't prove, I shall challenge you to a duel."
Onlookers muttered. Harry thought, I would be proving every word I say, if the great Albus Dumbledore hadn't stopped all that.
This was when Harry realised: Dumbledore's plan was not to get Harry free, Dumbledore's plan was to make Harry believe that Dumbledore tried his best to get Harry free. Harry felt despair, followed by rage.
Harry said, "Albus Dumbledore, I say again: I dismiss you as my defence barrister."
"Harry my boy, you don't know what you're saying. I ask the court to disregard Harry's last remark."
Madam Bones looked unhappy; but Fudge, Malfoy, and the pink-robed toad-lady all grinned. If Dumbledore had any sense that the wrong people in the room were smiling for the wrong reasons, the whiskered headmaster gave no sign.
Lucius Malfoy said, "The 'Boy Who Lived,' gone rogue, is a danger to the entire community of Wizarding Britain. His offence here goes far beyond a mere case of underage magic performed in front of a Muggle. Raised by Muggles, he has too much affection for the Muggle world to keep his distance from it; this boy is a Statute of Secrecy violation waiting to happen, again and again. There can be only one verdict—Guilty—and only one punishment—the Kiss—for someone who is such a danger to our community."
Madam Bones said, "I am not at all convinced of any of this, Lord Malfoy. I'm convinced of neither his guilt, nor the need for such a radical punishment."
Fudge said, "I must sort of agree, Lucius. The boy is guilty, no doubt, but giving him the Kiss?"
"Even if we snap his wand and bind his core, he's still famous in the magical world, Minister," Lucius purred. "The magical press in the colonies, France and Australia still will interview him, they still will quote him. His lies will be spread worldwide, and the good you try to do here will be undermined."
"Cornelius," said the toad-faced witch, "don't forget that Potter is the last of his line. If he is executed, the Ministry can seize his vaults, and the wise seat-holders of the Wizengamot can decide what to do with the coins and heirlooms in those vaults. How much gold could the Ministry receive if we auctioned the Potter grimoire?"
Fudge, and many of the plum-coloured-robed wizards and witches behind him, smiled greedily.
Harry glared at Dumbledore and said, "Vaultsss? I have vaultsss?Plural?"
"Not important now, Harry. I'm trying to keep you alive."
"Yeah, and you're succeeding so brilliantly, I must say. Hermione on the firstie train could have defended me better."
Madam Bones said, "We're getting off track." Then she raised her voice and said, "Those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?"
Only four hands went up: the old woman voting for House Longbottom, a man in his forties who voted for House Greengrass, Madam Bones, and Albus Dumbledore. Four votes, total.
Percy Weasley grinned cruelly at Harry, just before he turned to record the four votes.
Madam Bones scowled, even whilst she asked formally, "And those in favour of conviction?"
Fudge, Malfoy and the toad-faced witch, all three, voted for Harry's conviction. But a mob of Wizengamot seat-holders joined them.
Fudge grinned at Harry. "You the accused, Harry James Potter, are found guilty of performing magic in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, thus violating Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also violating Section Thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy. Before we decide on your sentence—Chair, confine the brat!"
The chains that were attached to the legs and arms of the witness-chair, almost instantly wrapped themselves round Harry's forearms and lower legs.
I'm about to die, Harry thought angrily. Not killed by Voldemort, but killed by greedy idiots. Then they'll tell more lies about me, and rob me blind.
THIS IS SO UNFAIR!
As Harry's mind was filled with burning rage, he felt pain in his magical core. Not merely the ache in his core that he felt whenever he was magically exhausted, but agony—for some reason his magical core was swelling up, trying to become bigger, but something like a steel cage was stopping this; the resistance to Harry's core swelling up, hurt.
Fudge said, "Before we decide on your sentence, boy, do you have anything to say?"
Harry had much to say—but he was given no chance to say it. Dumbledore flicked his bumpy-shaft wand, and Harry was hit with a Silencing Charm.
At this high-handed indignity, Harry's magical core tried to swell up more, which pained him more. But Harry refused to cry out when Fudge, Lucy, or the whiskered fool could see.
Dumbledore said, "Friends and associates, I tell you that killing Harry, when he still is a boy, would be wasteful. I suggest that a long sentence in the maximum-security wing of Azkaban would be a mercy, and would give him time to reflect upon his misdeeds. As well as prison time, a fine against his vaults would tell Harry that you found his offences—well, offensive. But I plead with you, not to seize everything Harry owns."
Harry thought, And especially don't seize all the stuff the whiskered moron has never told me I own.
The Wizengamot was given three sentences to vote on: Ten years in Azkaban, life in Azkaban, or execution by Dementor's Kiss. Letting Harry walk away unpunished was not a stated option; nor was merely expelling Harry from Hogwarts and snapping his wand.
Madam Bones, Wizard Greengrass and Witch Longbottom (Neville's Gran?) all voted for ten years in Azkaban—the lightest possible sentence, considering.
Dumbledore voted for life in Azkaban; then had the gall to look sadly at Harry and say, "I'm so sorry, my boy. There is nothing I can do."
All the other seat-holders voted for death by Dementor's Kiss.
Fudge made a vague gesture over his shoulder, to the place in the courtroom where the Dementor was penned. "Sentence is to be carried out immediately."
When the Dementor came close, Harry screamed, loudly enough to make Dumbledore wince—
—which was surprising, because Harry still was supposed to be under Dumbledore's Silencing Charm.
"AGGH!"
Harry screamed in outrage, and he screamed in pain (because his expanding magical core was being blocked in its expansion by a magical cage, which hurt).
Then the magical cage that was binding Harry's magical core, burst.
Harry stopped screaming, when the pain in his magical core suddenly ended. Harry felt his magic gushing, it was bursting out. The end of pain, the end of screaming, and the strange sensation of heavily flowing magic all were caused by his expanding core suddenly being free of restraints—
At the same moment, a silver, solid stag-Patronus burst out of Harry's chest and attacked the Dementor with its antlers.
At the same moment, the steel chains that were confining Harry's arms and legs, exploded. Wh-whiss-wh-wh-whiss-whiss, tiny bits of steel shot outwards in every direction, faster than the eye could see.
Chapter 2
Payback—with Interest
Right after the chains that were binding Harry, exploded
Still Saturday, 12th August, still early morning
Still in Courtroom Ten
Transparent-blue shields instantly formed, protecting some people in the courtroom—
• Madam Bones, Neville's Gran, Wizard Greengrass, and Albus Dumbledore, the four seat-holders who had voted for Harry's acquittal;
• The two on-duty Aurors, and Court Scribe Percy Weasley, whose work required them to be in the courtroom;
• the people in the visitors' gallery; and
• the wizard and Rita Skeeter who were sitting in the Press Box.
Who were unprotected? The Wizengamot seat-holders who had voted Harry guilty and had voted that Harry be Kissed.
The pieces of chain that hit any transparent-blue shield bounced off; the people behind the shields were unharmed (though frightened).
On the other hand, the room's wooden paneling, and the Wizengamot seat-holders who had voted for Harry's conviction, all got holes punched in them. A frizzy-haired witch behind Fudge was killed instantly. Fudge himself got a bloody shoulder; blood began pouring into the toad-face woman's eyes from her hair.
Harry stood up and faced his would-be murderers. He did not draw his wand.
Madam Bones yelled, "AURORS, DO NOTHING! EMERGENCY OVERRIDE, DIRECTOR, DMLE: UNSEAL THE DOORS! We need healers!"
Behind Harry, he heard the sound of clanking chains. In front of Harry, Lucius Malfoy pointed a wand at him and yelled, "Avada Kedavra!"
A half-second later, a dark-haired wizard who resembled Theodore Nott incanted, "Diffindo!" His yellow spell raced towards Harry.
Harry mentally ordered his stag-Patronus to swing the antlers-impaled Dementor about, so that the green curse hit the Dementor; both the Killing Curse and the monster were neutralised.
The Dementor disappeared, except for a dirty cloak that fluttered to the floor. Harry let his stag-Patronus fade away.
Meanwhile, Harry wandlessly and wordlessly had created a floating transparent-blue shield; this stopped the other wizard's overpowered Cutting Charm.
"Accio all wands except mine," Harry commanded. Madam Bones, both Aurors, and many Wizengamot seat-holders—both good and evil—yelped with pain when they lost their wands. (Harry figured out that when a wand was Summoned from a "no-Summoning" wand holster on someone's forearm, this probably hurt.)
The wands that came from Madam Bones and the two Aurors, Harry noticed, were blue. From Dumbledore's pockets came a regular wooden wand and the headmaster's favoured wand, which was bumpy along the shaft.
Meanwhile, no healers had managed to come into the courtroom through the now-open doors—but ten people from the visitors' gallery had run out.
"NO!" Harry yelled. "Nobody leaves!" Then Harry hissed.
SLAM! SLAM!
Now each of the two doors was blocked from being opened—but not by chains like before, but by an enormous green-scaled basilisk skin.
"Oh, Harry," said Dumbledore sadly, "you have turned Dark."
"I'm not Dark, old man, I'm cheesed off. Learn the difference."
Everyone in the room looked nervous—even Madam Bones and Dumbledore—because Harry still had not drawn his own wand, yet he was working powerful magic.
Now Harry turned back to face the murderous Wizengamot members; one of whom was "Lord" Malfoy. Harry said, "AccioLucy's Dark Mark—and the arm it's on! The wizard who just tried to Diffindo me, since you're also wearing the Dark Mark, I'm disarming you too."
Malfoy and the dark-haired wizard both screamed as blood spurted out of each wizard's left arm-socket, even as his left arm flew across the room. Spl-splat! Two bleeding arms hit the transparent-blue shield that remained in front of Harry's face and body; the severed arms dropped onto the pile of wands and the Dementor cloak that all lay at Harry's feet.
Harry gave his two would-be murderers a cruel smile. "That felt good. I've owed Lawless Lucy since May of '93."
Then Harry looked at Madam Bones and said, "Whoever that other wizard was, two months ago he came to Voldemort's resurrection party. I recognised his voice."
Dumbledore just had to speak up: "Harry, my boy—"
"Be quiet, Albus," Harry said. Harry hissed, and put the headmaster under a Silencing Charm that was strong enough that Dumbledore could not easily break it. Let's see how he likes it.
To make doubly sure Dumbledore did not make any more trouble for Harry, Harry cast the Parseltongue version of Incarcerous on the headmaster.
Harry said to the silenced headmaster, "Albus my boy, I'm very disappointed in you. Like I said before, Hermione on the firstie train would have been a better barrister for me."
Then Harry likewise cast the Parseltongue-version tie-up-with-ropes spell on Madam Bones and the two Aurors. They all tried to show no expression, but now all three looked frightened.
"Relax," Harry said to them, "I'm not going to hurt you. But for what I'm about to do, you'd feel obligated to try and stop me, and I don't want you interfering."
In the office of Director Ragnok, Gringotts
BAM-BAM-BAM, an unknown goblin pounded respectfully on the door.
"ENTER!" commanded Ragnok, the head of Gringotts London (and the British goblins' de facto king). The two axe-carrying goblin guards in the room both stiffened to alertness.
Slicesword, the Malfoy account manager, entered, shut the door, and bowed deeply. "Director Ragnok, an unusual situation has arisen. Lucius Malfoy is dead, and there is a new Lord Malfoy—by Right of Conquest."
Ragnok nodded. "This is unusual indeed." The "Right of Conquest" magic was invoked only when the owner of gold or property attacked someone with intent to kill, and the defender instead killed the attacker whilst remaining alive himself. Since in wizard duels, fortune favoured the attacker, especially if the attack was a surprise attack, a Right of Conquest situation was difficult to achieve.
Now Ragnok chortled. "And who was Lucius so thick as to try to kill?"
"Harry Potter, Director. Which confuses me—isn't the boy only fifteen? But he is not the new Heir Malfoy, he is now Lord Malfoy, as soon as he claims the ring."
Ragnok turned to one of his bodyguards, Neckshaver. "Go fetch Axefrenzy"—the Potter account manager—"and bring him here, for polite enquiries." Translation: Don't treat him as a troublemaker. Neckshaver bowed and left.
Slicesword surprised Ragnok when he said, "Something else you should know. I cannot guess whether the fact is important, but it is quite interesting: Now living in Malfoy Manor, with Lucius Malfoy's permission, are many Death Eaters and their leader, Tom Riddle. Harry Potter now owns the house where 'Lord Voldemort' is staying."
Ragnok asked Slicesword, "Have you written Lucius Malfoy's wife and son to inform them who the next Lord Malfoy is?"
"Not yet, Director. I've told you before I told them."
"Wise of you."
Neckshaver returned then, with Axefrenzy, the Potter account manager.
As Axefrenzy bowed, Ragnok said to him, "Slicesword tells me that Harry Potter now is Lord Malfoy by Right of Conquest, not HeirMalfoy. But how, when he isn't yet seventeen?"
Axefrenzy replied, "He also just became Lord Nott by Right of Conquest. As for how he is an adult at only fifteen, this happened on 24th November, when he participated as a Champion in the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament."
"Explain," Ragnok commanded.
Axefrenzy's grin was frightening. "By the Tournament's rules, only 'of age' wizards and witches were eligible to be selected as a Champion; yet when Potter's name was drawn, through trickery, Dumbledore and two other Ministry officials insisted that this fourteen-year-old lad participate as a Champion. Dumbledore outsmarted himself, because participating in the Tournament made the boy a legal adult, the boy survived the Tournament, and now the Lord Potter ring is his for the claiming. By the way, not that it matters now, but as we speak, Harry Potter is on trial in front of the full Wizengamot, which by itself would emancipate him by Magic's power."
Ragnok asked, "Does Potter know that he is emancipated?"
Axefrenzy sighed. "I cannot say. I have sent letters to Potter, and Bronzedagger"—the previous Potter account manager, who lost his position when a sharp axe struck his neck at high speed—"supposedly has sent the lad letters, beginning at age eleven; but Potter has never replied. Either Potter is unwisely disrespectful to the Goblin Nation, or someone has diverted all of Potter's Gringotts letters so he has never read them."
Ragnok hissed, hearing this.
Slicesword continued, "If I had to bet, I would lay down a sack of galleons that the whiskered fool, not Potter, is reading all of Potter's Gringotts mail."
Ragnok snarled, "Dozens of Gringotts letters are being ignored? Either Potter or Dumbledore is asking to get his vaults seized."
Then Ragnok looked at Slicesword. "Lucius Malfoy is dead, and Harry Potter is the rightful Lord Malfoy—how much of all this do the Malfoy widow and the Malfoy son know without us telling them?"
Slicesword replied, "Narcissa Malfoy felt a pain in her magical core, the instant that Lucius died, whilst the Lady Malfoy ring disappeared from her hand. At that same moment, the Heir Malfoy ring disappeared off Draco's finger. Draco, after speaking with his mother, will know that his father is dead. But they won't know, till we tell them, why Draco no longer has his Heir Malfoy ring and why Narcissa's Malfoy marriage ring was not replaced with a Regent Malfoy ring. It wouldn't surprise me to find a letter from Narcissa waiting for me in my office, demanding to know, 'What's just happened?' "
Ragnok said, "We must figure that any letter sent to Narcissa Malfoy will be read by Riddle." Ragnok paused for thought, then said, "Account Manager Slicesword, send a letter to Narcissa and the Malfoy boy, saying that Lucius Malfoy is dead, but that 'We at Gringotts are confused about who is to be the next Lord or Lady Malfoy. For now, we deny entry to all Malfoy vaults, and deny all automatic transactions. We apologise for any inconvenience.' "
Slicesword was looking at his leader in confusion. Why would we tell Narcissa and Draco "We don't know who the next Lord Malfoy is" when we do know?
Ragnok continued, "Tomorrow morning, an hour after the Daily Prophet is mailed out, send the two Malfoys each a letter saying, 'Harry Potter is the next Lord Malfoy, and he gets all the Malfoy property and coinage.' "
Slicesword bowed. "It will be as you command, Director."
None of the four other goblins in the room was foolish enough to ask Ragnok Why are you doing things this way?, but Ragnok answered the question they dared not ask. "So what if the Malfoys and Riddle find out tomorrow that Harry Potter owns the house they're living in, instead of today? One day's delay in their getting the news should make no difference worth mentioning, my brain tells me. But I can't shake the hunch that Harry Potter once again will surprise us all; and if he does, this would be good for the Goblin Nation."
Meanwhile, in Courtroom Ten, the Ministry of Magic
Harry had used a Parseltongue spell to tie up Madam Bones and the courtroom's two Aurors, after Summoning their wands (and everyone else's wands).
"Relax," Harry said to Madam Bones and the Aurors, "I'm not going to hurt you. But for what I'm about to do, you'd feel obligated to try and stop me, and I don't want you interfering."
Many people in the courtroom hissed in fear when Harry said this. But the toad-face woman and some of the voted-for-conviction Wizengamot seat-holders instead looked angry. The angriest of the angry lot was the toad-face woman; the most frightened-looking person in the room was Fudge.
The toad-face woman yelled, "You are holding the Minister for Magic prisoner. I demand you release us at once!"
"Or else what?" Harry replied, smirking. "You'll sentence me to death? Oh, wait."
When Harry looked into Toad-Face's eyes, suddenly he could read her mind and could tap into her memories.
Harry did not like what he learnt.
Harry shifted his gaze; now his eyes bored into Fudge's eyes; Harry saw the thoughts and memories in the Minister's head.
Harry scowled. Then he made Dolores Jane Umbridge (the name of the toad-face woman) and Cornelius Fudge both float up in the air (whilst silenced, because Harry did not want to hear their blather).
Harry said, in an emotionless voice, "Madam Bones, Umbridge here cooked up a scheme to send Dementors to Little Whinging. She drew up the paperwork, she convinced her 'dear, sweet Corny' to sign the order, she browbeat the warden of Azkaban into sending two Dementors to her, and she gave the Dementors their orders, when and where to attack me. But give the bint credit: If I managed to survive the attack—which I did—she had threatened Mafalda Hopkirk into sending me those letters. From those letters came today's hearing—except Fudge and Umbridge further schemed to have me tried in absentia."
Wizard Greengrass said, "So all the time Fudge was mocking you as a liar, for claiming you had been attacked by Dementors, he knew you were telling the truth, because he had sent the Dementors."
"Yes," Harry said. He smiled up at floating Umbridge—who was silently yelling a blue streak. "The Dementor order is in a small safe in her office that is on the wall behind her desk. It's protected by a Notice-Me-Not Charm."
Harry smiled up at Umbridge. Even Harry, after only four years of magical school, knew that the Notice-Me-Not Charm did not work when the object to be not-noticed, was specifically pointed out.
Harry added, "Oh, Madam Bones? Alohomora DJU opens her safe." Harry grinned at floating Toad-Face.
By now, Harry had let Fudge and Umbridge gradually float upwards, so that they were almost touching the ceiling. Harry said to them, "You schemed to kill me on 2nd August. Ten days later, today, you tried to kill me again. If I hadn't burst the bindings on my magical core, you would've succeeded. So you like killing someone helpless? Then you can't much complain when—"
Crack. Fudge and Umbridge suddenly flew apart, quickly enough to snap their necks; Fudge flew to the upper part of the front of the courtroom; Umbridge flew to the upper part of the rear of the courtroom. Then the two schemers' heads flew towards each other, with the rest of their bodies pulled along behind.
CRACK! Fudge's head crashed into Umbridge's head at high speed. The explosion was messy. Grey matter, blood, bits of bone, and a black bow dropped to the floor, followed by two headless corpses.
"—I kill your helpless selves."
Harry turned to look at the seat-holders who had voted for his conviction and his death. They all were white-faced. "I owe you all," Harry said calmly. "You wanted to kill me for no good reason, then to rob House Potter of everything it owned."
A wizard in blood-drenched, plum-coloured robes yelled, "Murderer! As soon as Bones gets free, we'll order you arrested again! And this time we won't even bother with a trial!"
Harry sneered, "Oh, you mean like the Wizengamot didn't bother with a trial for my oath-sworn godfather, Sirius Black?"
Harry said, "I don't want to hear any more from you." Harry hissed, and the loud, annoying wizard was hit with the Parseltongue version of Petrificus Totalus.
Harry looked at the pro-conviction seat-holders. This time Harry did not even speak; but seven left arms suddenly flew towards him; whilst six Wizengamot wizards and one witch began screaming and spurting blood.
"Seven more Wizengamot members who had the Dark Mark," Harry explained. "Multiple murderers, all of them. Tell me again how murder outrages you in the Wizengamot, when nine of you have practiced it and have the 'Stupidity Stamp' to prove it."
By now, four of the surviving Wizengamot seat-holders were unharmed and unbloodied behind transparent-blue shields (Madam Bones, Neville's Gran, Wizard Greengrass, and Dumbledore); as for the other forty or so seat-holders, their hair, faces and clothing were drenched with blood that was not their own.
Harry just had summoned the left arms of seven Death Eaters who had not attacked him first, killing the seven. At the moment, the courtroom was silent, and everyone was staring at Harry in shock. Rita Skeeter's eyes were wide (behind her transparent-blue shield), and her green quill was motionless in her hand. Percy Weasley, whilst still sitting in his chair, was turned about to face Harry fully, and Percy was staring in shock and/or fright.
Harry spoke calmly into the silence: "During this sham of a trial, Fudge, Madam Bones and Dumbledore kept interrupting me—or in Dumbledore's case, silencing me—so I never got to tell my story. When the Dementors attacked, at 9:23 p.m on 2nd August, I was at a playground near my relatives' house. Nobody was near me when the Dementors attacked, except for my cousin, Dudley Dursley—who's grown up with me, so he knows about magic. Dudley could neither see the two Dementors, nor defend himself against them, so it fell to me to save us both. Which I did—only to be owled a letter almost immediately, telling me that Aurors were on the way to snap my wand. Maybe I should have written back immediately and claimed I was under the Imperius Curse—then all would have been forgiven!"
Harry looked at Bones, Longbottom and Greengrass. "How do I convince you that what I just said is true?"
Greengrass looked at silenced Dumbledore and said, "Albus, I've a big problem with how you've behaved today. I'm actually wondering whether you wanted Mr Potter convicted for some unimaginable reason. So you forbidding Harry from swearing a magical oath? I'm ignoring that."
Greengrass looked at Harry. "Draw your wand, point it at the ceiling and say, 'I swear on my life' or 'I swear on my magic' or 'I swear on my magic and my life,' then make your statement, then end with 'so mote it be.' If you've lied, you'll instantly lose all your magic, and/or you'll drop dead."
Dumbledore was shaking his head, over and over. Both Harry and Wizard Cyrus Greengrass ignored the headmaster.
Harry said, "Huh. I wish I'd known about magical oaths last year, when my name came out of the Goblet of Fire—it would've made my life much easier." Harry glared at Dumbledore.
Harry drew his wand for the first time since he'd cast the Tempusspell at 8:03. Harry pointed his wand at the ceiling and said—
"Before I speak the official oath, let me say some other things. My second year, 1992-1993, a basilisk was running around Hogwarts—an actual look-straight-at-it-and-you-die-instantly basilisk. The basilisk petrified students, a ghost, and the caretaker's cat, but luckily nobody was killed. In May of 1993, I killed the basilisk, and almost was killed myself. Madam Bones and Rita Skeeter, you two should ask why this is the first you've heard about the basilisk."
Silenced Dumbledore was glaring at Harry.
"In the Triwizard Tournament, at the end of the Third Task, when Cedric Diggory and I grabbed the Triwizard Cup, we were portkeyed to a graveyard in Little Hangleton, which is in Lancashire County, northern England. Less than a minute after we were portkeyed there, Peter Pettigrew, on Voldemort's order, AK'd Cedric. I was used unwillingly in a ritual to resurrect Voldemort; then Voldemort used Pettigrew's Dark Mark to summon other Death Eaters. About thirty Death Eaters showed up, and Voldemort addressed them by name. Two of the thirty were Lucius Malfoy and the second man I disarmed today."
Harry disrespectfully kicked one of the nine Dark Mark'd severed arms with a foot. "By the way, other reporter and Rita, you'll want to write this down: You-Know-Who's real name isn't 'Lord Voldemort,' it's Tom, T-O-M, Marvolo, M-A-R-V-O-L-O, Riddle, R-I-D-D-L-E."
Dumbledore's glare at Harry was as hot as Fiendfyre.
All this time, Harry's wand had been pointed at the ceiling. Now he took a breath and said—
"I swear on my magic and my life that I have spoken nothing but the complete truth, so far as I know it, since I walked into this courtroom today at 8:03. I swear everything I've said is true, including what I've said just now. So mote it be."
Light flashed in the courtroom, blindingly bright. Harry paused a moment, then asked his audience, "Do I need to cast Expecto Patronum to show I still have my magic, or is the fact I'm still breathing, proof enough I'm telling the truth?"
Madam Bones still was bound by ropes from Harry's Parseltongue spell. She asked, "Sirius Black is your oath-sworn godfather? And he never received a trial?"
"Uh-huh, and my friends and I told Fudge that Sirius never received a trial. A fact which Dumbledore the former Chief Warlock has known since 1981." Harry shrugged. "So how is my godfather still considered a dangerous criminal, with a Kiss-On-Sight order hanging over him?"
Bones asked, "You really killed a basilisk at Hogwarts, during your second year? Aren't basilisks resistant to magic?"
Silenced Dumbledore again was glaring at Harry.
Harry looked at Madam Bones and replied, "I didn't cast spells at it, I killed it with the Sword of Gryffindor. It was over fifty feet long. Didn't Susan tell you anything about the basilisk? How curious. Come on, that was a frightening year, because nobody knew how people were getting petrified, or who would be next. Whatever the headmaster knew, he didn't tell; nor did he close the school. Typical."
Then Harry looked round the courtroom. "I think I've said everything I wanted to say during the trial." And I've binned Dumbledore's reputation in the process, Harry thought.
Madam Bones said, "Will you please release those of us whom you tied up, and unseal the doors, please?"
Harry replied, "Before I do this, one thing needs to happen—"
Harry glared at the (surviving) Wizengamot seat-holders who had voted for his conviction, and who had voted to sentence him to death by Dementor's Kiss.
"Before I release everyone, I ask that you seat-holders in this courtroom vote again, and you acquit me of all charges that Fudge made against me today."
"Why should we do that?" a Wizengamot wizard sneered. "There is no precedent for what you ask, and we don't feel like establishing a precedent for a half-blood who acts above himself. Have I made myself clear, boy?"
" 'Why?', you dare ask? Because you convicted me for no other reason than that after I died, you lot could seize my vaults and could split the money between yourselves."
A witch said, "No, no, the money would go to the Ministry departments that need it."
"Ri-i-ight, all the money from my vaults would be given to the DMLE? Or the Department of Mysteries? Not one brown knut would be diverted into the vaults of you Wizengamot members? Ha! Anyone who believes that also believes that Hogwarts is safe for children."
Dumbledore glared at Harry again.
"Anyway, you convicted me for performing magic in front of a Muggle, when there was no evidence I'd committed the crime."
"Not true," a wizard said. "You did do magic in front of a Muggle. The Improper Use of Magic Office detected it, and today you admitted it."
"I did magic in front of my cousin. Who already knew about magic."
"We didn't know that," the wizard replied. "We weren't told that."
"True, none of the so-called 'Interrogators' could be bothered to ask. But none of you asked them to ask. Your little Inbred biases made you think I did Expecto Patronum because it was flashy, to impress some knuckle-dragging, ignorant Muggle; and nobody in this room checked to see if that assumption was true. I tried to speak the facts about my cousin Dudley that would prove I was innocent, but yonder illustrious 'Leader of the Light' kept interrupting me. So don't any of you Inbreds try to tell me, 'Oi, we voted to convict you because of an honest mistake.' Nope, you voted to convict me so you could seize my vaults. You sentenced me to death so you could seize my vaults. Well, not-ladies and not-gentlemen, why shouldn't I earn my death sentence, hm?"
A blood-splattered Wizengamot wizard asked, with dread in his voice, " 'Earn' your death sentence how?"
"By killing every one of you inbred robbers and thieves who voted to convict me, then voted to kill me."
As the entire courtroom stared at Harry in horror, he said cheerfully, "So hold another vote, but this time, vote to acquit me, and you've no reason to fear my anger and my unbound magical power. Really, it's a no-brainer."
Less than five minutes later
After a second vote by Wizengamot seat-holders, Harry was acquitted of the two charges laid against him.
The two Aurors, Madam Bones and Dumbledore all were un-roped. The loudmouthed Wizengamot wizard was un-petrified.
The Parseltongue Silencing Charm on Dumbledore was lifted.
Harry Parseltongue-unsealed the doors.
Then Madam Bones, as Acting Chief Warlock, adjourned the Wizengamot session.
Now everyone was retrieving his or her wand from the pile of wands, nine severed arms, and a Dementor cloak, all at Harry's feet. (Many of the collected wands now had blood drops on them, till Harry wordlessly Scourgifyed those wands clean.)
For some reason, Dumbledore glared at Harry when the old man picked up his bumpy-shaft wand.
The male reporter walked up to Harry and said, "Mr Potter, I'm Kenneth Clark, reporter for the New York Wand. I'd like to interview you sometime." The wizard spoke with an American accent, but not a New York/New Jersey accent.
Harry replied, "I go back to school on 1st September; but sometime before that—sure, I'll meet with you."
Dumbledore said, "Harry, there is no way you can meet with this American"—the whiskered wizard sneered the word—"that would be safe."
Harry said to Clark, "Dumbledore has a peculiar definition of safe. Somehow his 'safe' always means my imprisonment, in a place of his choosing, never mine."
Dumbledore said haughtily, "I am your magical guardian, and I insist you not meet with this American reporter."
Harry wasn't having it. "Are you my magical guardian? I've never seen any parchmentwork to prove this. And aren't guardians supposed to check up on the kids they're guardian-ing? In my entire life, I never laid eyes on you till Professor McGonagall led us firsties into the Great Hall."
By now, Madam Bones was standing a few feet away. "Is this true, Mr Potter?"
Then Madam Bones said to Dumbledore, "You and I will have words, Headmaster."
"Amelia, I assure you—"
Harry interrupted: "Madam Bones, are you here to arrest me?"
"No, Mr Potter, though I'm quite annoyed with you. Killing those seven Death Eaters who hadn't attacked you is legally borderline, but I'm letting it slide. I'm standing here because I've questions for you, about the many interesting things you've said today."
"Are you interested in following up on what I said about Sirius Black?"
An emotion that looked like guilt, flitted across Madam Bones's face. "Yes, Mr Potter. Sirius Black is innocent and has never had a trial? I definitely want to straighten that out."
Dumbledore looked alarmed. "Amelia, I ask that you delay investigating him. Situations now are delicate."
Harry got an idea. Ignoring Dumbledore, Harry said to Madam Bones, "Arthur Weasley is waiting for me outside the courtroom, to take me home. Why don't I pick him up, then the two of us escort you to DMLE Headquarters?"
Dumbledore said, "That's a good idea, Harry, if I go with you to keep you safe."
Madam Bones said coldly, "Headmaster, you have a school to run. Your presence in addition to Mr Weasley and Mr Potter is neither needed nor wanted."
Harry could not tell anyone afterwards, where in the Ministry building Madam Bones took him and Arthur Weasley.
But wherever Madam Bones went to sign out a record of Sirius Black's trial, had no such record. Similarly, the report of Sirius Black's arrest was almost blank—the Aurors had not even checked his wand for the last spells cast; nor had there been any interrogation, with or without Veritaserum.
Madam Bones (and Harry and Arthur) walked somewhere else in the Ministry building; Madam Bones found out there that Dumbledore was declared to be Harry's magical guardian during a special session of the Wizengamot in 1981—a special session that was notable for having just enough seat-holders to make up a quorum. And why did the Wizengamot need to appoint Harry's magical guardian? Because the Potter parents' wills had been ordered sealed by the Chief Warlock—Albus Dumbledore.
Harry now asked Madam Bones, "What does this mean, 'The wills are sealed'?"
She replied, "It means that only the Chief Warlock can look at those wills. If Arthur, or me, or anyone else were to look at them, he or she would be sent to Azkaban."
"So they're my parents' wills, and I can be arrested for trying to read them? Typical."
Suddenly Madam Bones smiled a mischievous smile, such as Harry often saw Sirius wear. "Oh yes, absolutely, the sealed copies of the wills that are here in the Ministry building, you would get in serious trouble if you read them. Serious trouble. So don't even think of doing any such thing, naughty-naughty! On the other hand, I would be shocked if the Potter account manager at Gringotts doesn't have at least one more copy of each will, and those copies, you the heir to House Potter may read in Gringotts anytime. Once you read your parents' wills, the goblins will carry out the terms of those wills, ignoring any declaration by any 1981 special session of the Wizengamot that differs from what the wills say."
Harry said, "Brilliant! Then I'll definitely go to Gringotts soon—and whilst I'm there, I'll find out how many vaults I have."
Arthur looked puzzled. "You, as the last of the Potters, have three vaults. Everyone knows this."
Angry Harry replied, "No, Arthur, 'everyone' isn't dependent on Albus Dumbledore for their education about their family and House. Today, I'm sure Hermione knows more about being a Potter than I do."
Harry looked at Madam Bones and asked, "Do you have any more free time right now? I'd really like you to talk to Sirius now, without"—Harry mimed stroking a beard—"interference."
Arthur said worriedly, "Harry, I'm not sure the headmaster would want that. How about you let him set up a meeting?"
Harry snapped, "What the headmaster wants, Mr Weasley, is for the entire population of Wizarding Britain to dance to his tune, whether it's good for the rest of us or not. The whiskered wanker has had fourteen goddamn years to get Sirius freed; I'm not waiting for him one day more!"
Five minutes later
Number 12, Grimmauld Place was under Fidelius; which meant that Madam Bones could not see the place unless she was told the Secret; and no way would the Secret Keeper—who had not shaved since 1899—tell Madam Bones the Secret.
Dumbledore undoubtedly thought that if he kept Sirius remaining inside Grimmauld Place "for his own protection," that there was no way that he and the fiercely independent Madam Bones would ever come face to face, except at a time and place of Dumbledore's choosing. (Which is to say, never and no place.)
But there was one workaround that Dumbledore overlooked. At the Ministry Atrium, Arthur Floo-called Sirius, who spoke permission for Madam Bones to enter Grimmauld Place. After Arthur and Harry stepped through the Floo into Grimmauld Place, Arthur quickly stepped back through the Floo into the Atrium, put his hand on Madam Bones's shoulder, then the two of them stepped through the Floo fire again. Voilà—now Madam Bones was in Grimmauld Place without knowing the Secret.
When Sirius and Madam Bones finally were face to face, Harry was almost certain that Madam Bones would not try to arrest Sirius. But otherwise, Harry presumed that the behaviour of Madam Bones and Sirius would be formal and impersonal.
So Harry was caught by surprise when Sirius looked at Madam Bones and asked, "Amy, why are you here?"