Harry Potter and the Defiance of the Hero

Harry Potter and the Defiance of the Hero

Chapter 8 - And Justice For All

Lady Justice has been raped
Truth assassin
Rolls of red tape seal your lips
Now you're done in
Their money tips her scales again
Make your deal
Just what is truth? I cannot tell
Cannot feel

~~ Metallica

The brown eagle-owl landed lightly on Harry's shoulder, its brown wing brushing the side of his face as it screeched impressively, holding out its leg.

Harry removed the letter and the bird screeched again, before launching itself off Harry's shoulder, and back out into the warm spring sky.

"A Wizengamot bird," said Dumbledore, a grave note in his voice.

Harry didn't say anything. He broke the red wax seal and removed the fine piece of parchment from within and began to read. His eyes scanned the fine print quickly, and as Dumbledore watched he saw a frown develop on young Harry's forehead.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We hope you receive this letter in good health. The Wizengamot, under Wizarding law, requires your presence on the 8^th of April, to discuss matters pertaining to the events of the 4^th of April. After correspondence and discussions with the head of the Auror Department, Remus John Lupin, you are hereby summoned to the trial of fifteen Death Eaters to deliver your statement of the capture of said dark wizards.

We understand that you played a significant role in the aforementioned event of April 4^th, and a full statement pertaining to your actions will be presented summarily before the entire procession of the Wizengamot.

Your actions, whilst effective, broke several Wizarding laws and your character is to be judged by the Wizengamot after the aforementioned Death Eater trials.

Yours sincerely,

Bartemius Crouch Sr.
Minister of Magic

Harry read the letter once again and then scanned all of the names at the bottom of the page, under Minister Crouch's. Cornelius Fudge... Frank Longbottom... Mafalda Hopkirk... All the members of the Wizengamot had signed it.

Tapping the parchment against his leg thoughtfully, Harry frowned and then passed the parchment to Dumbledore, who read it quickly.

"Either they read Rita Skeeter," said Harry slowly, as Dumbledore folded the letter in half. "Or they're scared," he finished, smiling slightly.

Dumbledore wasn't smiling. "They called this meeting without my approval," he said gravely.

"Are they allowed to do that?" asked Harry.

Dumbledore nodded. "A majority vote can be cast, and it appears that it was."

Harry shrugged and stood up. "They're trying to control me," he said after a moments thought. "The Ministry, the Wizengamot, they don't want me fighting without their approval."

"Very perceptive, Harry," stated Dumbledore. "You are, of course, correct."

Harry shook his head slowly. "I bet it's the same across any world," he whispered. "One power trying to destroy or control another...."

"This time I fear you are correct," Dumbledore said solemnly. "What do you plan to do?"

Harry cracked his knuckles and looked Dumbledore in the eye. "Oh I'm going to this- this meeting, as they put it, and we'll see how much control they get!"

Nodding his goodbye, Harry turned and swept out of the infirmary angrily. Can't just be happy that I nearly killed Voldemort, can they? he thought, abandoning all desire to head to Charms that morning. Instead he turned towards the Entrance Hall, and from there down to Hagrid's cabin, to claim something he left behind.

****

Soaring high above the colourful stands of the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, Harry fell into a fast dive on his Nimbus 2000, hoping to reclaim some of the rush he had felt when jumping out of Dumbledore's office window.

The wind howled in his ears as he fell through the cloudless sky towards the green striped pitch. He wrapped his legs tightly around the broom and threw his arms back up into the sky carelessly. His right arm he couldn't lift far because of the bandages but it still felt good to just freefall again.

The grass of the ground was approaching fast though, and at the last possible moment Harry pulled out of the dive, creating a loud swoosh that rippled through the air. All his thoughts and problems seemed to take a back seat to the joy of flight, and for a few brief moments Harry forgot about the war he so affectionately called life.

Gliding lazily above the earth, Harry slowly floated down and alighted on one of the many stands surrounding the pitch. He sat down tiredly and observed the three hoops at one end of the pitch, looking through them and once again into a dark and uncertain future.

It was then, as an unexpected stretch of dark rain cloud obscured the light coming from the sun, that Harry recalled several words Firenze the centaur had spoken to him back in his own world. The woman he loved would die, yet live again... Billions will die as the surface of the planet of War runs crimson... He would cease to be a part of his world.

Well, he thought. That last one has held true... what of the others? Harry spent a good hour just staring into the sky and thinking, and finally came to the conclusion that he would face whatever was coming, as it came. And right now, the Ministry seemed to be proving a bigger threat than Voldemort. Dark Wizards he could handle, small-minded politicians was another challenge altogether.

With a wave of his hand, Harry shrunk the Nimbus down to pocket size and placed it in his jeans pocket. He then descended through the stands and set off back across the grounds towards the castle, as the sky once again cleared.

****

"Crucio!" hissed the Dark Lord, his fury and anger once again being taken out on one of his lesser Death Eaters.

The robed man screamed in pain as his nerves exploded and his skin melted. Voldemort held the connection for a full minute before dismissing the crippled Death Eater with a wave of his hand. He retired to his throne, sat atop a dark podium against the black wall of the largest hall in the fortress of Slytherin.

His thoughts were dark and destructive as they all came back to that Potter boy, who had shamed him in front of his world. Victory had been so close. Dumbledore was at his mercy, but no... Fifty Death Eaters were in Ministry holding cells, including his entire inner circle and another fifty were dead. The Dark Lord hated his first real taste of loss.

"At least Azkaban is open to us," he hissed into the darkness. "My inner circle will return soon enough."

"The Dementors grow restless on the island," another voice whispered in the darkness to Voldemort's left. "With only a handful of Aurors on which to feed, they may leave the island soon, father."

"The Dementor's will do as I command," Voldemort replied fiercely, waving his hand dismissively.

"What of Harry Potter?" the voice in the darkness then asked.

The fire in the Dark Lord's eyes burnt with a vengeful fury. "He has become your new task. Eliminate him! Use any means at your disposal, just make sure he dies." Voldemort felt the boy, his son, disapparate and then summoned another Death Eater into the throne room. His anger had not yet abated.

****

"He was unbelievable," James stated simply, taking a sip from the glass of firewhiskey he had just poured himself from the liquor cabinet in his and Lily's quarters. "Every other duel I've ever seen pales in comparison."

Lily nodded and fell onto the bed next to James, resting her head on his shoulder. She hadn't slept in over forty hours. There had been too many of the injured to look after in the infirmary. Thankfully, most of them had been transported to St. Mungo's and she could get some sleep.

Lily had not had much chance to talk to James either, as he had been teaching all day. With Dumbledore down for the count, the deputy Headmaster, Flitwick, had been quick to assume command and had made sure classes resumed as normal only one day after the battle. That had been today, and it had been one of the longest days Lily could ever remember.

She had only seen Harry briefly that morning when he had come to talk to Dumbledore. "He is a powerful wizard..." she said sleepily, kicking off her shoes.

James shook his head slowly. "Beyond powerful..." he whispered. "There's something deep inside of him, Lily," he then said concernedly. "A deeper power than I think even he knows."

"He's still a boy," Lily said. "Despite all his power he still has feelings.... did you see him today?"

"No," breathed James. "He didn't show up for his lessons, although all of my students kept asking after him."

Lily bit her bottom lip and sighed heavily. "There are demons in his past, James," she whispered. "Horrors I think he could never tell us."

"I have no doubt of that," James replied, laughing hopelessly. "First time we saw him he was covered in scars... and then there's that wound in his shoulder that's not been given a chance to heal. He has definitely survived events beyond what we know."

Lily was silent for a long moment as James ran a hand through her hair repetitively, as he had done for years. "The Ministry are trying to keep him under their control," she stated. "Albus showed me a letter from Crouch and the Wizengamot. He's to attend the Death Eater trials in two days, on the 8^th, after which they are going to judge his character, as they put it..." she ended bitterly.

James removed the glasses from his face and placed them on his bedside table. "They're never going to control him. If he can hold his own against Voldemort then the Wizengamot should be no problem," James rubbed his tired eyes. "How are Melissa and Michael?"

"They seemed fine at dinner," she whispered as the two of them finally leaned back on the bed. Lily draped a comforting arm over James' chest as her exhaustion began to claim her. "A little shook up, but then who isn't?"

"Harry isn't," he said and then extinguished the torches in their room.

One hundred feet to the left and then up from his parent's quarters, Harry lay calmly on the bench up atop the Astronomy tower, staring unblinking at the vastness of the stars and creation around him. A warm breeze ruffled his hair and Harry absentmindedly passed a small ball of electric blue magic from one hand to the other.

His thoughts were surprisingly clear, and for the first time in weeks Harry thought of nothing but the starlight that was reflected lazily off of his wire framed glasses. It never ceased to amaze him how clear the night sky was at Hogwarts. At night, when all the lights in the castle went out, the darkness was complete, and laying there Harry could see thousands upon thousands of small pinpricks of silver starlight.

Five years of astronomy lessons had taught him the names and constellations of dozens of them, and he easily picked out the planets Mars, Jupiter, and Venus, blinking ever so coldly upon him, millions of miles away. It stretched on for miles across the Earth though, a blanket of shining dots that nothing in the cloudless sky could cover.

Harry simply stared into the sky, into the vastness of a universe that he didn't belong in. It stretched for infinity all around him, but it was just one universe in a stack of many. How many Harry didn't know, but he knew that this was the wrong one. He wondered briefly where this universe was, where it stood in creation. If everything was in the universe, and he was from another universe altogether, then what space did his universe live in....?

Harry started to get a headache just thinking about all the possibilities when he thought of time and space, and where he now fit into it, being able to travel across the boundary of it all. One thing was certain though, however much power he did or could wield, he still felt infinitesimally small and insignificant against the majesty of these stars, whichever universe they belonged to.

Forgetting the stars, Harry closed his eyes and his thoughts slowly spilled over into the war of this world, and the Wizengamot interrogation (as he thought of it) on Saturday, the 8^th. It meant he would miss the Quidditch match for the cup between Gryffindor and Slytherin, but that couldn't be helped. What mattered this Saturday was making sure none of the corruption he knew to be in the Ministry surfaced and the Death Eaters were freed.

The warm breeze once again blew his hair about his head, and Harry sat up on the bench, extinguishing his sphere of blue light as he did. He could hear voices and footsteps down in the tower behind him but he ignored it. His mind was already focusing on the monumental tasks that lay before him.

I have to kill Voldemort... he thought. In two worlds... who decided that?

Harry rested his hand on his pocket and felt the smooth polished wood of his wand. He recalled the wand holster that Ron had given him for Christmas nearly five months ago. As far as Harry knew it lay unused in his trunk at the foot of his bed in the dorm of the other world. As did his other magical items, the Marauder's Map, his invisibility cloak, the rest of his dragon armour. His chest piece, which he had worn through the boundary, had been beyond repair once Madam Pomfrey had peeled it off him and healed his shoulder as best she could. That was long gone.

Harry stood up and walked lazily over to the wall on the balcony. He rested his palms flat against it and leaned over the edge, staring at the blinking lights in the distance that were Hogsmeade village. Yawning, Harry thought it might be time he went to bed and turned to do just that.

He descended the astronomy tower quickly, staying clear of the classroom where a bunch of third years were preparing their telescopes for a night of viewing the stars. It wasn't that long of a walk back towards Gryffindor tower, and when Harry got there he found the common room nearly deserted, with only a few seventh years seated near the fire. A glance at the clock above the fireplace told him it was approaching ten thirty. He shook his head of tiredness and made his way up to the familiar, yet different bed in the sixth year dorm.

****

Thursday the 6^th of April was no different from the 5^th. Harry rose early, as was his way, and showered briefly before heading down to breakfast, with his brother Michael. He studiously ignored the majority of stares and muttered whispers he heard about him as he past students in the corridors, and sat in the Great Hall.

Michael was talking to him about the Quidditch final, and Harry was listening vacantly, paying closer attention to Dumbledore, who had risen from the hospital wing to attend breakfast in the Great Hall that morning. It seemed he didn't want to appear out of it for too long, and that was good in the long run.

"Gryffindor should win," Michael said hesitantly. "But last time they played Ginny missed the snitch by a few seconds. Slytherin still haven't let us forget it...."

Harry nodded. "I think they might have a bit more confidence this time around," he replied. "What with half the Slytherin team having their dads on trial for murder and the like this Saturday."

Michael snorted into his pumpkin juice. "Yeah... that might be a bit of an advantage."

Harry cut one of his Cumberland sausages into quarters and skewered a piece with his fork, when he felt someone brush his shoulder lightly. He bit back a gasp of pain as his wound was disturbed and turned to see who had tapped his shoulder.

"Hello, Harry," whispered Hermione, smiling politely as she sat down next to him.

"Hi," Harry replied, turning to face her. "How are things?"

Hermione shrugged. "I just... wanted to thank you," she said. "For saving my life that morning, when you jumped in front of the Curse and pulled me away from it."

Harry nodded. "I remember. How are you?"

"Still in a bit of shock," she said shakily, brushing some of her bushy hair back out of her face. "I came to see how you were feeling?"

Harry blinked. "Me?" he repeated. "I'm fine, bit of a sore arm but besides that... I'll live."

Hermione smiled again and Ron took a seat opposite her at the table. "That's good."

"We didn't see you in Charms," Ron then said, pulling the jug of milk towards himself. "Or DADA yesterday."

Harry nodded lazily. "Never went," he replied. "Couldn't be bothered, to tell you the truth. I don't think anybody missed me."

"Malfoy did," Hermione whispered warningly. "He's plotting against you, Harry."

Shrugging, Harry sipped his pumpkin juice. "He must have been born stupid," he said, shaking his head. "Thanks for the warning though."

"No problem," beamed Hermione, and Ron smiled as well. "Are you going to attend Transfiguration this morning?" she then asked. "We're starting to study the practical aspects of the Animagus transformation."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'll be there."

****

"What you have to remember," Sirius said, transforming quickly into Padfoot and then back. "Is that not everyone has the ability inside of them to become an Animagus."

Harry sat attentively up the front on the far left of the Transfiguration room, ignoring the stares and muttered whisperings he heard from around the room. Ron and Hermione had decided to sit next to him and all the other Gryffindors had performed a half-circle of bodies around him, and Harry knew why. Everyone had heard of the Slytherin plot to... discredit Harry... and the Gryffindors were showing the courage and bravery that their house promoted by creating a human shield between Harry and the rest of the room.

"I doubt more than a handful of you in this room have the innate ability to transform," Sirius continued. "And those that do, you probably won't make it right to the end of the training process, as it is extremely difficult."

Thinking back, Harry hadn't found his transformation difficult, as his magic had taken care of it for him. All he had to do was touch the griffin and magic had done the rest. He hadn't transformed in about three weeks, ever since that final day in his universe. Harry smiled as he recalled the feeling of completeness that flying as a griffin brought.

"I will be outlining the steps you can take in your own time that will discern whether or not you possess the ability. This is homework, by the way," Sirius smiled, and flicked his wand at the powdery chalkboard. Chalk lines whirled their way across it and Harry dutifully took notes on a scrap of parchment. "Next lesson is... Monday?"

"It is," Hermione responded.

"Well this should only take you a few hours over the weekend," said Sirius. "So take your time, don't rush it. Just try and grow your hair, or shorten your fingernails or something like that. You don't have to accomplish all the steps on the board and it will be remarkable if any of you do, one is enough to discover if you have the ability to be an Animagus."

Harry put his quill down and shook his sore arm, dispelling the pins and needles he felt in his hands from the lack of circulation. He knew he didn't have to bother with this homework, as he could just simply say he didn't have the ability. It was a lie, but the information it was protecting was more important. Never show your hand until the last possible moment....

"You know," whispered Ron thoughtfully. "I think I may have changed my hair once, back in first year..."

"Wouldn't it be amazing to be able to transform," Hermione said wistfully. "Transform into something like a bird, something that can fly."

"Like a phoenix..." Harry whispered, thinking of Fawkes.

"Exactly," Hermione replied. "A phoenix... that would be incredible. It is very rare to be able to transform into a magical creature."

Harry turned to look in her eyes. "Really?" he said, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "What... like a Griffin... or a Krup, a basilisk maybe?"

"A basilisk!" choked Ron. "Who in their right mind would ever want to be a basilisk?!"

"That does seem very unlikely, even real basilisks are rare in the world these days. There's not been one sighted in centuries," Hermione quoted directly out of the magical creature's text in her head.

"Thank Merlin," Ron said with relief.

Harry inwardly smiled. "There could be many underground though," he said. "I mean they can live for hundreds of years."

"That's true," Hermione stated, looking at Harry with respect. "I would have thought you only knew about physical magic, strength spells and curses."

"I'm not just a grunt with a wand," Harry said, smiling slightly. "And I do know a bit about basilisks."

Ron shuddered. "Why would you want to?" he replied.

Harry slapped him on the back and winked. "In case I ever meet one."

"They are rather fascinating creatures though," continued Hermione. "Can grow to a huge size and only a Parselmouth can control them."

"Only a dark wizard then," Ron spat. "Who's bright idea was it to create basilisks and then have only evil wizards with the ability to control them!?"

"Voldemort's a parseltongue," Harry said unexpectedly, sighing heavily.

Both Ron and Hermione visibly flinched. "Let's talk about something else," Ron said. "We hear enough about him as it is."

Harry silently agreed, as did Hermione. "Well I can't play any Quidditch this weekend, I'm afraid," Harry then said.

"Why not?" asked Ron.

Harry sighed. "The Wizengamot, in its infinite wisdom," he said sarcastically. "Has summoned me to attend the inner circle Death Eater trials this weekend, and to judge my character."

Hermione visibly paled. "Oh... those trials are always - always... well, witch hunts," she said, no pun intended. "They don't like you fighting without their permission."

"I know that," agreed Harry. "But I'm not going to let them walk all over me."

"I wouldn't argue with the Wizengamot, Harry," Ron said warningly.

"I won't," Harry replied. "As long as they don't step out of line."

The rest of that particular Transfiguration lesson past by in a blur of normality. Harry copied his notes, so as not to arouse anybody's curiosity, and chatted quietly to Ron and Hermione about the Wizengamot and Gryffindor's prospects for the Quidditch cup. Soon enough though the siren rang that ended the lesson, and Harry stood up and began to make his way out into the corridor with his fellow Gryffindors.

The corridors were, of course, packed with students of all years as they walked to their next lesson. This was one of Harry's first true appearances to the school at large, besides the meals in the Great Hall, and most people did a double-take as they briefly glanced at him and Harry did do his best to ignore them.

Potions was his next lesson and Harry suffered through that slowly, ignoring the glares of hate and malice that Snape sent his way. He worked with Ron and Hermione on the potion that, when diluted, created Veritaserum. It was quite possibly the most complex potion Harry had ever come across, but the three of them completed the first stage adequately nonetheless.

At lunch, Harry was pleased to hear that Dumbledore had made a full recovery, thanks to Madam Pomfrey's potions, and also that he had resumed his duties as Headmaster. It was a boost to moral around the school that Dumbledore, who represented the Light against Voldemort, was still strong enough to continue the fight.

That afternoon Harry had a double period of Charms, which he breezed through easily as it was defensive magic. After Charms and dinner, Harry spent the first true night in weeks talking with his friends in the common room. He was, of course, something of a hero to the Gryffindors, but that didn't stop him from playing chess with Ron, or helping Hermione with her shield charms.

In fact, since he had proven himself against the Dark Lord, all of his former sixth year friends had warmed up to him considerably, and he spent the night forging friendships with these familiar, yet different people. He discussed Divination with Parvati and Lavender, he allowed Colin to take his picture with his brother Dennis. Dean asked if he followed the Muggle football, and when Harry said he didn't, Dean and Seamus filled him in on the current Quidditch league table.

Then there was also Neville, who Harry realised had parents in this world whose minds were as sane as the next person. He was a lot more confident, a lot more sure of himself. And he could perform more complex magic that the Neville Harry knew would have doubted himself on. Although Harry knew that his Neville had strength in him that this new Neville probably possessed at some level. They were both good people, they were both the same person, and Harry was happy he had begun a new friendship with him.

It was a long night, and Harry walked up to the dorm tiredly with Ron at eleven-thirty. They said their goodnights, and Harry's head hit the pillow happily. Life until the next equinox had just gotten a whole lot brighter. In the past two days he had beaten and discredited Voldemort and his claim of immortality, captured the entire inner circle, forged blossoming friendships with his old friends, and managed to avoid cursing anything since the attack.

Sleep took Harry quickly as these thoughts swirled through his mind, and for the first time in months, he didn't have a single nightmare or troubled dream.

****

Harry awoke the next morning refreshed and he showered quickly before heading down to the common room at seven o'clock. It was the first time since he had begun to sleep in the common room again that he wasn't the first down of a morning. The sun shone in through the windows with its early morning light as Harry stepped off the stairs and into the room.

He was greeted with warm smiles and awe-filled glances as the Gryffindors noticed his presence. And he yawned, shaking off the effects of a good night's sleep, before heading over to his familiar armchair by the fire.

"Hey, Harry," Michael Potter said as he sat down.

Harry turned and saw his younger brother seated a couple of armchairs over with a group of second years. "How's things, Michael?" he asked.

"Fine," he replied. "Mum was looking for you though. She said Dumbledore wanted to speak with you."

Harry nodded and as if that was the cue, a large fireball sprang into existence above the fireplace and from it flew Fawkes, sparks igniting a fiery trail in his wake. The phoenix circled the common room once and there were many gasps and compliments paid to Fawkes, who swooped down majestically to land on the arm of Harry's chair.

"Hello, Fawkes," Harry said, inclining his head to the intelligent creature.

Fawkes sang a hello and then dropped a note onto Harry's lap that he had grasped in his talons. Harry picked it up and read it quickly.

Harry,

Please come to my office as soon as possible,

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry nodded slowly and then scrunched up the note, throwing it into the nearby fire. "Tell him I'll be there in about quarter of an hour," he then told Fawkes, having no doubts that the Headmaster would be able to infer the message through the link he shared with the amazing bird, his familiar.

Not wasting any time as Fawkes vanished in another ball of flames - the signature mark of the instant travel Phoenix's were capable of - Harry said a brief goodbye to Michael and exited the Gryffindor common room. Dumbledore's study was a good ten minutes walk away so Harry set off quickly through the cold morning halls of the castle.

He didn't pass many people on the way to the Headmaster's office, and those he did were heading in the opposite direction towards the Great Hall for the first meal of the day, breakfast. Looking out a few of the windows as he walked down the corridor that led to the stone guardian of Dumbledore's office, Harry beheld the Hogwarts grounds. A long trail of burnt grass, plants, and trees could be seen near Hagrid's cabin, which had had to be repaired slightly after the attack, and it looked like a long, jagged scar on the otherwise green and fresh grounds.

Shaking his head, Harry once again recalled the battle of only two days ago, and the sights, sound, smells and feelings he had felt on that day. Sometimes the things he did seemed surreal, even to him. It was like he became faster when battles broke out. It had only taken him a split second on that morning two days ago to decide to jump out of the window in Dumbledore's office, which he was now approaching. And the wall of stunners he had created that had wiped out the inner circle. That had been experimental at best, but it worked.

Harry knew he was becoming quite efficient at fighting these large battles in this war. He knew he would have to implement different tactics if he wanted to stay ahead of the enemy, especially when he returned to his own world. Without a shadow of a doubt, Harry also knew that the Voldemort he would return to would be stronger, faster, and more powerful than any of the incarnations he had previously faced of the Dark Lord.

That Voldemort also had fifty or so more years experience in magic than he did, so if he was going to have any chance of beating him, Harry would have to employ some quick tactics and spells that Voldemort would not expect.

Once again deciding that these thoughts could wait until later, Harry ascended the stairs to the Headmaster's office. He didn't have to worry about the password, as he had been expected and the gargoyle had been prematurely activated. The great oak doors at the top of the stairs were also open, and Harry's arrival was noticed by the three familiar people in the study.

"Hello, Harry," said Lily and James, seated in front of Dumbledores desk in large velvet back-chairs that were placed on an angle parallel to the front two corners of the desk. There was a third chair in the middle, between that of his parents that Harry knew was for him.

"Morning," Harry replied, walking over to Dumbledore and his parents.

"Please have a seat, Harry," Dumbledore motioned to the chair opposite from him.

Harry nodded and sat down, looking to all of them in turn. "Is this about the Wizengamot trials tomorrow?" he asked, unable to think of another reason as to why he would have been called up to the office.

James nodded. "We need to prepare you for whatever they might ask, and they will be asking a lot of questions."

Harry understood that. "Who are 'they'?" he asked. "Who is in charge of the trials?"

"The Minister of Magic, Crouch, is overseeing these particular trials personally, as it is the inner circle. He will also be presiding over your... evaluation."

"Okay," Harry said, but there had been something bugging him for a day or two now. "Why are the Death Eaters on trial?" he asked, looking to Dumbledore and then James and Lily. "I mean, aren't they all guilty, shouldn't they just be sentenced?"

"Some of them claimed innocence, for obvious reasons," Lily answered. "Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater, but there has never been any evidence to convict him. He's now claiming that he was under Imperius so he can keep his position of power and not have to go into hiding or Azkaban."

"And they believed him!?" Harry exclaimed.

"They had to," shrugged James. "He is entitled to a trial, and he has the galleons to employ the best defence lawyers, he may get off on the Imperius plea."

Harry gritted his teeth in frustration, but he held his anger in check. "How many other Death Eaters have done the same?"

Dumbledore shook his head as if lost in thought, or confused. "It is strange," he said. "Only a handful of those captured pleaded innocent and under Imperius. The rest went quietly and are already in Azkaban."

"Why is that strange?" Harry then asked.

"Because only those, such as Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, hold positions of relative power in our government, and galleons to influence decisions made by the Ministry. Now that might not seem odd in itself, but several other members of the inner circle that you captured, Harry, were not known before that. They could have pleaded innocence, but chose life in Azkaban instead."

As Dumbledore finished Harry began to draw some conclusions to this behaviour in his head, but it was too early to jump to anything drastic. "I'm going to be called to testify against Malfoy and the others, aren't I?" he said, but didn't need his parents nods to confirm it. He would never act in their defence!

"The Malfoy family lawyer has gotten Lucius off more than once, Harry," James said. "He is good at what he does. They are probably going to try and discredit you, as you are the main witness."

"You don't sound very confident that Malfoy is going to be put away," Harry then said quietly, looking once again to each of them in turn.

"We're not," Lily replied. "No doubt galleons have already changed hands amongst the jury and Death Eater sympathisers on the Wizengamot, to give Malfoy a better chance of getting out of this one."

Harry frowned. "If he does," he said simply, dangerously. "Then I'll drag him off to Azkaban myself. If there's that much corruption in the Ministry then it has come to that, sadly."

James, Lily and Dumbledore were not entirely sure if Harry was jesting or not. The look in his eyes was unreadable, cold and calculating.

"Well..." Dumbledore said, clearing his throat. "No matter what the outcome of the trials you are still going to be put under the scrutiny of the entire Wizengamot, Harry."

Harry sighed. "Wouldn't be the first time..."

"Really?" said James, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "What did you do?"

Shrugging carelessly, Harry answered; "Dementor attack two summers ago. I told them it was self defence. They told me I broke the Statue of Secrecy and underage sorcery laws."

"You were tried in front of the Wizengamot for a simple underage magic breach?" Dumbledore asked, confusion in his voice. Surely our worlds can't be that different!

Harry nodded. "I shouldn't have been," he said, scratching his neck. "But the Minister wanted to have me kicked out of Hogwarts and, well, the Wizarding world."

"Who was the Minister?" Lily asked.

"Cornelius Fudge," Harry replied.

"That moron!" James cried. "How did he ever become the Minister of Magic?"

Harry laughed slightly. "There wasn't a day that went by in my fifth year that I didn't ask myself that same question. He was killed a few months ago though, and Arthur Weasley replaced him."

"An excellent choice," Dumbledore said. "Arthur would be a most competent Minister."

Harry smiled. "He was..." he said but then frowned. "He is," he corrected himself. "He and you, sir," Harry continued looking at Dumbledore. "You managed to amass an army of eight hundred Aurors in only a few months."

"Eight hundred..." breathed James. "How many Death Eaters does the Voldemort of your world have?"

"Before I left, he had sent his entire army of about nine hundred into Hogsmeade to battle the Aurors. They were dark wizards from all over the world, who had joined him as foreign Ministries became involved with Britain's war."

"That many people fighting in so small of a space," Lily said quietly. "Hundreds would have died."

Harry sighed with regret. "Hundreds did, but the Aurors won out in the end, after I forced Voldemort to retreat."

A thoughtful silence spread throughout the room and all of the portraits of the previous Headmasters waited patiently for the four of them to continue. Knowing full well what to expect tomorrow, Harry had already decided on his plan of attack. He wouldn't give an inch! No matter what they threw at him he'd answer it as best he could, and as forcefully as possible.

"Your death in our world may also come under examination," Dumbledore continued and Harry looked up to meet his eyes. "Because you did die, you were killed by Voldemort and many witnessed it."

"Too many..." James whispered tearfully, shaking his head in sorrow.

"Well I'll just tell them I've been in hiding these past six years," Harry said carefully, trying not to upset anyone. "The fact that I'm there should be prove enough for that. I don't think any of them would trust or even believe me if I said I was from a different universe."

"Too true..." Lily stated. "Even we didn't trust you at first."

A bell rang throughout the castle that meant the first lessons of the day had just begun.
"I better get going," James sighed, standing up and running hand through his hair. "Third years up first this morning."

"I'll see you at lunch, James," Lily said warmly, as James said his goodbyes and then exited the study.

Harry blinked and looked over to the window he had recently jumped out of. "I see you got that window fixed," he said with a small smile, turning back to Dumbledore.

"Indeed," nodded the Headmaster. "A rather unexpected thing you did, Harry, jumping out of it."

"Unexpected and dangerous," Lily said reprovingly.

Harry yawned and covered his mouth. "It worked, didn't it? Can't argue with results."

"Getting back to the matter at hand," Dumbledore said. "Do you feel confident enough to face the Wizengamot tomorrow?"

Harry nodded nonchalantly. "More than confident," he whispered.

"Very well," Dumbledore replied seriously. "James has agreed to take you to the Ministry tomorrow. "The trials will take place in the morning, Courtroom Ten."

"That's the room with the comfy chair," smiled Harry.

"Your evaluation will probably take place in the afternoon, in the same room. That is, if the trials are over quickly. If not then you may have to stay the night in London."

"We'll come to support you as well, Harry," Lily said. "Michael, Melissa, and myself. But there is no need to worry," she finished affectionately, nervously.

"I'm not worried," Harry said simply. "All they're trying to do is control me, when they already know that they can't. It is going to be very interesting tomorrow, to say the least."

****

It seemed that one nights respite was all Harry was going to get from the nightmares. He awoke early on the morning of Saturday the 8^th of April, and instantly began to force the images of the dead, of the wounded, and of the demons from his waking mind. Stretching his aching limbs, Harry shook off the numbness in his healing right arm and shoulder.

Something told him that this arm had taken too much of a battering over the last couple of weeks, and may never heal properly. Getting out of bed and heading towards the bathroom, Harry decided to ask his mother or Madam Pomfrey about it later. Today was an important day, and he planned on making an impression that would last.

After showering, the sunlight was just beginning to filter in slowly through the windows, and Harry wrapped a towel around himself as he beheld the clothes he had slept in. Not owning anything beyond the clothes on his back, his new wand and the Nimbus broomstick in this world, Harry had been transfiguring the same clothes over and over again into a clean pair of robes, or a t-shirt and jeans.

He didn't have the money from his parents or Sirius in this world, and he felt uncomfortable to ask for anything, and the situation hadn't arose yet and Harry wasn't about to bring it up. He could survive on his own, had been for years, and the magic for a bit of transfiguration was available to him with a thought.

So he transformed the jeans and t-shirt into a pair of formal trousers, black for the occasion, and a short-sleeved black shirt with a pocket on the left side. Stepping into his 'new' clothes, Harry knew this would be considered quite formal in the Muggle world, and he didn't want to conform to Wizarding standards of dress for these hearings. It would look like he was trying to obey a set standard of the Wizarding world, and that could be taken as a wish or attempt to be controlled. With these Muggle clothes he still appeared smart, but not wizard-smart.

Not even bothering to straighten his wild hair in the mirror, Harry did decide to remove the griffin earring that had hung in his ear for just over six months. He reached behind his left ear to grasp the clasp and pulled. For one strange moment he felt a pull of resistance, and found it odd. But a moment later he guessed he must have imagined it, as the earring came out effortlessly.

Putting the golden griffin safely in his pocket, Harry ran a hand through his towel-dry hair and replaced his glasses. Not giving another glance to the mirror, he exited the bathroom and walked down the stairs towards the common room. It was still too early on a Saturday for anyone else to be up, and once again he found himself sitting alone in his chosen chair by the dead fire.

Harry thought about the coming day for an hour before deciding to go down to breakfast a little earlier than anyone else. If he walked slowly, there would probably be a few people in the Hall when he arrived.

The castle was getting warmer a lot earlier nowadays, as spring began to meld into summer, which was still a few months away. But it seemed the heat was coming early this year, and Harry was glad he hadn't decided on robes for today, as it was already warm now and would probably be uncomfortable later on.

There were a few early risers in the Great Hall as Harry took his seat at the Gryffindor table. Although he was the only Gryffindor up so far he didn't mind sitting on his own, it was actually quite peaceful. The house elves had, of course, provided breakfast as usual, and Harry began to butter some toast as more and more people began to arrive.

The early hours of that morning past by relatively quickly for Harry, who was eager to get the day done with. Soon enough Ron and Hermione had arrived and he struck up another conversation with them, as a cacophony of other voices brought Hogwarts to life. The staff were all present up at the staff table and Harry gave Dumbledore and his father the slightest of nods, before the post owls descended upon the Hall.

A Prophet bird landed neatly in front of Hermione, who was sitting opposite Harry. She deposited a few knuts in its pouch and the tawny owl took flight again. Draining his goblet of pumpkin juice, Harry noticed Hermione quickly glance at him as she read the front page of the newspaper.

"Good news?" Harry asked sardonically, tapping his fingers on the hard polished wood of the table.

Hermione shook her head quickly. "Afraid not," she replied and passed him the paper. "Rita Skeeter must really have it in for you!"

Harry laughed at the truth in that statement and his eyes fell to the Prophet.

HARRY POTTER: ANOTHER TWIST IN THE TALE

Special Correspondent Rita Skeeter

Many now know the details of You Know Who's attack
on the peaceful school of Hogwarts only four days ago.
Many have heard the rumours and wild speculation
concerning the apparent retreat of He Who Must Not

Be Named, our world's strongest and most feared
enemy.

Harry Potter rocketed into fame overnight, as the
only wizard to have ever come close to ending this
war once and for all, a claim that even the great Albus
Dumbledore cannot boast. But did Potter really duel
and best You Know Who? How did a sixteen year old
school boy, who has spent the last six years in hiding,
outlast the Dark Lord who has more than fifty years
experience over Potter.

Was it all just a perfectly orchestrated game between
You Know Who and his servant, Harry Potter. Did we
really witness the temporary defeat of our enemy, or were
we lured into a false sense of hope, of need for the
'heroics' of Potter, to soften our resolve and make us weaker
when the Dark Lord strikes back with his full force and
wrath.

All we can do is hope that this is not the case, even if
all the facts point towards this devastating goal. Potter
will be evaluated by the judicial arm of the Wizengamot
this afternoon, and Minister Crouch himself will administer
the questioning and be the overall judge of his character.

The Wizengamot will also host....

Harry clicked his teeth and slid the paper back across the table to Hermione. "You know, you'd have to be really stupid to believe that," he said, looking up at the enchanted ceiling. "But I know that hundreds of people will." He could already sense the glares of mistrust from those in the Hall who had copies of the Prophet.

"No one who saw your duel could question your motives, Harry," Hermione said honestly. "Rita Skeeter has always written the worst about people."

"Ain't that the truth!" Harry chortled, cracking his knuckles.

Hermione laughed slightly as well. "I see you're not wearing robes to these trials," she stated, looking at his smart shirt. "The Wizengamot may disapprove of that."

"That," smiled Harry, "is what I was going for."

A hand came down on Harry's good left shoulder and he turned to see James Potter standing behind him. "We better be making a move, Harry," he said.

Harry nodded and stood up. "I'll see you later," he then said to Hermione. "Good luck with Quidditch, Ron. Get that cup!"

Ron gave him a lopsided smile. "It's as good as ours."

"That's what I like to hear," James said as he and Harry began to move away towards the Entrance Hall.

"Do you ever get the feeling you're being watched?" Harry asked calmly as he exited the Hall with a thousand pairs of eyes upon him.

James inwardly smiled. "How do you want to do this then?" he asked. "The trials start at ten o'clock, you have to be seated by then. We could floo or take the Knight B-"

"I can Apparate," Harry cut in quickly. "Straight to that annoying telephone box that descends into the Ministry."

James shook his head slowly. "Why doesn't that surprise me!? All right then, we'll have to walk to the gates."

It was warm outside and the grounds were deserted. Everyone was still enjoying their breakfast in the Great Hall, or eagerly awaiting the Quidditch match in an hour. Harry and James walked in a comfortable silence for the most part, but occasionally they did talk.

"Dumbledore is going to be on this committee overseeing you, Harry," James said as they passed by a particularly burnt part of the grounds. "You'll have allies on the bench."

"So will the Death Eaters," Harry sighed as they approached the gates.

The two of them stepped over the ward line and Harry did feel the familiar tingle of the awesome power behind the web of wards, although he now knew they had a fundamental flaw. "Right," James said. "You know where you're going?"

Harry nodded, and then with a thought, disappeared with a pop and reappeared almost instantly in the noisy, concrete city of London. He looked around quickly, and raised his palm in defence just in case. The street was deserted though, and Harry spied the familiar old red telephone box that was the visitor's entrance to the Ministry.

James appeared with a pop next to him and together they entered the dilapidated box, next to a heavily grafittied wall. It was a tight fit for the both of them and Harry recalled having to squeeze himself and his five closest friends into this box back at the end of his fifth year. That had been a terrible night!

Harry was closest to the receiver on the telephone apparatus, which still looked as though it should be out of order, so he picked up the receiver and-

"What's the number?" he asked.

"Seven, two, four, four, six, two," James told him, trying to edge away from the telephone so Harry could enter the digits.

Harry entered the number and as the dial whirred smoothly back into place, the cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Harry Potter," Harry replied quickly. "Here to make sure some Death Eaters end up in Azkaban and because the Wizengamot is jerking me around."

"James Potter," James said soon after. "Here to escort Harry Potter to the Death Eater trials."

"Thank you,' the cool female voice said. "Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

As usual, there was a click and a rattle and Harry picked up the two badges from the metal chute in the box, where the coins usually appeared. The square silver badge read Harry Potter, Wizengamot Trials. Pinning the badge to the front of his shirt, the female voice spoke again.

"Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

Harry stumbled as the floor of the telephone box shuddered quickly and they began to descend into the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. It took a full minute as they sank into the earth, and the pale golden light hit him in the face before anything else.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," said the woman's voice.

Harry and James stepped out of the red telephone box as the door sprang open. The first thing Harry noticed, before the flash of a hundred cameras. Was the row of Aurors in white robes that formed a long line between the telephone box and the twenty or so lifts along the back wall of the massive Atrium Hall.

They were keeping the way clear for him, and other Ministry officials, as the reporters and other personnel that were crowded along the length of the Ministry pushed forward to get closer to him.

Harry shielded his eyes against the flash of hundreds of cameras and he and James walked quickly along the length of the Atrium as a deafening shouting match emerged in the large room.

"POTTER!"

"MR. POTTER"

"HARRY!

"HOW DO-"

"WHEN!"

"PO-ER"

"POT-"

"HAR-"

The twenty five Aurors on either side of Harry and James kept the crowd from surging forward, and for this Harry was very grateful. The voices only got louder as they walked along the highly polished, dark wood floor and the flashes from the cameras were set to blind him.

Some of the Aurors he passed smiled and nodded respectively to him, and Harry returned these nods. He realised that they were probably at Hogwarts the other day, and saw him duel with Voldemort. They didn't believe Rita Skeeter or the Prophet. He had earned their respect the one and only way a true battle hardened Auror could give it, on the battlefield.

"A FEW QUESTIONS, MR. POTTER!" cried a particularly loud voice over the sound of the others, but Harry wasn't in the mood.

A few of the Aurors also acknowledged James, and James himself shook the hands of a dozen of them. He had worked with most of these men years ago, before taking up the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. He and Sirius had been amongst the elite of the Aurors, and it was their influence, as well as Dumbledore's, that helped secure the position of Head of Department for Remus.

Urged on by the Aurors, who were getting frustrated with the crowd of reporters and had begun to silence those who had cast Sonorus charms on themselves, James and Harry walked through a pair of gates and into the smaller, reporter-free hall beyond, where the twenty or so lifts stood behind wrought golden grilles.

Harry was glad they had left the crowds behind, but he had the strangest feeling that he was being watched. Of course I'm being watched he thought. But he felt that it was a pair of unfriendly eyes but then dismissed that as well. There are probably a lot of unfriendly eyes in that crowd. Still though, as he walked towards the lifts, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen something out of the corner of his eye that meant trouble.

"Didn't think we were going to make it then," James said, slapping Harry on the back. "How's your arm doing, by the way?" he asked as a lift descended with a great clattering sound.

Harry shrugged and rubbed the white bandage across the length of his arm and up to his shoulder. "It's getting there," he answered as the golden grille of the lift slid back and the two of them entered it. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to ten," James said, and hit the number nine button. "We're going to be fine."

The lift descended quickly and the cool female voice of the Ministry automated response machine said, "Department of Mysteries."

"Oh how I hate this floor," Harry whispered as the grille slid back again and he and James began to walk along the bare corridor that was, again, too familiar for Harry. They passed by some more Aurors and also a group of wizards in blue and green robes. They all stopped to stare at Harry as he walked by and Harry stared stubbornly back. From the look on a few of their faces he knew they were trying to intimidate him.

James led Harry down the corridor and then turned left, away from the door that led to the rooms, which in turn, Harry knew, led to the Veil. He shuddered as he and James stepped down a flight of stairs, heading towards Courtroom Ten.

They reached the bottom of the steps and this corridor was busy with many witches and wizards, some talking amongst themselves, others talking to the few Daily Prophet reporters that had been allowed to witness the trials today. Harry gritted his teeth as he spotted Rita Skeeter and sighed as she spotted him.

"Mr. Potter," she smiled sickeningly, and the four dozen or so witches and wizards in the corridor fell silent.

Harry frowned and glanced at her carelessly, before not giving her another thought and moving on towards the large wooden doors with the heavy iron bolts and locks that was Courtroom Ten. James put a hand on his shoulder and steered him in quickly, as he heard the jangle of Rita Skeeter behind them, her extravagant jewellery bangles and rings clattering loudly.

As he had expected, the large dungeon they entered was all too familiar. The walls of dark stone were dimly lit by fluttering torches. Benches rose up on either side of Harry and James that were slowly being filled with witches and wizards, a few dozen important Ministry personnel, and of course, seated up on the highest benches were the Wizengamot.

All talk had ceased when he had entered, everyone recognising him from the dozens of pictures that had been taken of him over the past couple of days. Biting back the feeling of anticipation and nerves, Harry looked to James as to what to do.

"Mr. Potter, Harry Potter," a familiar voice called out to him and Harry turned to see Arthur Weasley striding across the length of the large courtroom to meet him.

"Ah, Arthur," James said as he drew level to them, shaking his hand. "I was wondering where you got to."

"Last minute preparations, James," Arthur said gravely. "This must be Harry!"

Harry shook Mr. Weasley's hand as well, although it felt strange to be meeting him again for the first time. "Arthur is the Ministry's prosecution wizard for the trials of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle," James whispered in his ear.

"You're going to be the main witness, Harry," Arthur said, leading them over to a small table that had four seats, positioned to the left of the three chairs in the middle of the room that were covered in chains.

Harry saw that Remus Lupin was seated at one of the normal wooden chairs at the small table, and James sat down next to him, as Arthur explained the situation to Harry.

"This shouldn't take long, Harry," Arthur said as they both sat down at the wooden table. Harry next to James and Arthur next to Harry. "Of course it may be difficult because of certain... corruptions... in the Wizengamot," he whispered this part as dozens of eyes were still upon Harry.

The courtroom was filling up slowly around them but Harry had to keep his voice low, as sound echoed well in this room. "How's it gonna happen?" he asked.

"Myself and the defence lawyer, a man named Howland Brand, are going to state our cases first to the Wizengamot, and then you and Remus will be called to give evidence. You will be examined the most harshly I'm afraid, as you apprehended the accused."

"What are they likely to ask?" Harry said apprehensively.

Mr. Weasley's face darkened. "Due to the...err... unusual circumstances surrounding you, Harry. They're going to use the Imperius defence as well as your character against you. Brand will want to discredit you and he is very clever and good at what he does."

"Defending the guilty," Harry spat. "Why didn't you tell me any of this earlier in the week?" he then asked Arthur.

Arthur sighed. "I was only appointed to prosecution a few hours ago," he whispered. "Those in the Wizengamot who have the most influence and are in Lucius Malfoy's pocket, made sure to delay the selection as long as possible, to weaken the prosecution."

Harry nodded with understanding, but it still made him angry. He looked up to the fifty or so members of the Wizengamot seated on the highest benches. All of them were wearing purple robes with the elaborate 'W' on the left hand-side of the chest, and all of them were staring at him. Most with a deep curiosity, but some of the others were practically glaring daggers at him.

The room was almost full now and Harry watched as a rather tall man stood and called for order as the clock in the dungeon struck ten. Harry stared at this man and took a deep breath, it was Bartemius Crouch, the Minister of Magic and dead man in his world.

"Quiet please,' Crouch called, his manner just as Harry remembered it. He was strict and straight to a point. The two hundred or so present in the dungeon all fell silent, and Crouch continued. "Bring in the accused."

Harry turned around as he heard the echoing footsteps of half a dozen people entering the room. Lucius Malfoy walked in with his head held high, behind him were Crabbe and Goyle and on either side of them were three Aurors. All three of the Death Eaters had their hands bound, and as they were seated in the chained chairs, two of the chains snapped their legs into place.

Harry met Malfoy's gaze and saw the hate for him there, he returned it just as fiercely. "Death Eater trials of the eighth of April," Crouch said in his loud, dominating voice. No one else spoke. "Pertaining to offences committed under the Decree's seven through nine of Dark Sorcery and the illegality of possessing the Dark Mark. Also taken under consideration is the use of the unforgivable Imperius curse on the accused, Lucius Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe Senior, and Gregory Goyle Senior."

Harry ignored all of the glances he was receiving from the hundreds in the room, and concentrated on what Crouch was saying. He didn't want to miss anything important.

"Judgement to be carried out by: Bartemius Crouch Senior, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; and Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The jury consists of the remaining forty seven members of the Wizengamot. Court scribe, Alicia Spinnet."

Harry raised an eyebrow as he saw Alicia, whom he had played Quidditch with on the Gryffindor house team, poised over a parchment with a quill scratching furiously across the page in front of her. He also breathed a brief sigh of momentary relief after hearing that Dumbledore was one of the judges, but Harry could already see that the outcome of this trial would depend on whether or not he could provide enough evidence to convict the three Death Eaters, showing without a doubt that they were guilty. If he could do that, then the members of the jury, the Wizengamot, who had been bribed or were Death Eaters, couldn't let Malfoy and the others go without exposing themselves.

It would be close and risky, but Harry knew the truth, although he was not innocent and naïve enough anymore to believe that that mattered at all in this world.

"Prosecution?" Crouch then called.

"Arthur Weasley," Mr. Weasley said, standing up to address the court and Wizengamot. "Prosecution against the accused and employee of the Magical Law Enforcement division, under Amelia Bones. Two witnesses, Remus John Lupin, Head of the Auror division, and Harry James Potter, currently attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Defence?" barked Crouch.

"Howland Brand," a short pale man said, standing up from the table to the right of the three chairs holding Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle in place. "Defence for the accused and employee of the Magical Law Enforcement division, under Amelia Bones. Defence consists of Mr Lucius Malfoy's testimony, the Imperius defence and the cross-examining of Remus John Lupin and Harry James Potter."

"Very well," Crouch growled, showing no emotion. Harry recalled seeing him in Dumbledore's pensieve two years ago - he was ruthless in these trials. "The charges are as follows: Possessing the Dark Mark, a green skull branded into the left forearm of those in the service of He Who Must Not Be Named. Participating, whether under Imperius or not remains to be seen, in an attack on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on the morning of April 4^th, and of using the Unforgivable curses, Avada Kedavra and Cruciatus."

"You three are Lucius Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle?" Crouch asked, as a formality.

"Yes," the three bound Death Eaters replied.

"Very well. Mr. Brand, please present your case to the Wizengamot."

"Thank you, Minister," Brand said, standing up and walking around the table to the front of the dungeon, looking up at the Wizengamot next to the solitary witness stand that was positioned on and angle to behold both the Wizengamot on the high benches and the defendants.

"Wizards and Witches of the Wizengamot," Brand began. "Today we are here to find the innocence of Lucius Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle. Three men, pillars of the Wizarding community, who have given to countless charities throughout their lives, who were placed under one of the unforgivable curses, the Imperius curse." He paused for effect here and Harry saw him quickly glance at him.

"There is no need to go into details of this particular curse, as the effects are well known. The defendants are members of three of the strongest Wizarding families in our world, making them priority targets for the agents of the Dark Lord, as they possess a large combined wealth and influence in this Ministry. Sadly, these peaceful men were subjected to the Imperius curse, and then brutally assaulted by Harry James Potter during their apprehension on the morning of the 4^th of April."

Brand smiled sickeningly at Harry and ran a hand through his straw like hair. Harry scowled and almost stood up at that point but felt his father's arm holding him down tightly. He also noticed the slightest shake of his head.

"Despite the display of force shown by Mr. Potter during their capture, my three clients would also like to thank him for ending their torture under the Imperius curse," Brand then said and muttered whisperings broke out throughout the dungeon again.

Harry saw at least a dozen reporters around the room, all of them whispering into Quick Quotes Quills whilst keeping their eyes on the trial. He returned his gaze to Brand, who was preparing to speak again.

"Thankfully, no crimes to severe have ever been committed by these three honourable men whilst they were in the service, against their true will, of You Know Who. Having only been put under the curse three weeks ago at a small gathering of friends at the Malfoy estate, all three are fully prepared to face any charges the Wizengamot may place upon them, for their actions, even though they were not in control. We trust in the wisdom of the Wizengamot however, to deliver the correct and proper judgement. Thank you."

With a small smile playing at the corners of his lips that only Harry, Remus, James, and Arthur could notice, brand walked back to his chair at the defence table and sat down smugly.

"Thank you, Mr. Brand," Minister Crouch said sincerely. "Mr. Weasley, please present the prosecution's views."

Clearing his throat, Arthur Weasley stood and walked around the table, past Malfoy and the others and over to the floor near the witness stand. "Good morning," he said, nodding to a few friends in the crowd. He sounded extremely confident, although Harry noticed the shake of his hand. "Wizards and Witches of the Wizengamot," Arthur began. "Today we are here to exact justice upon those guilty of serving He Who Must Not Be Named in this ceaseless war we have been fighting for far too long."

Just like Brand, Mr. Weasley paused dramatically for effect at this point and Harry could tell from the nods around the room that many agreed with him.

"I will put to you today, through reason, common sense and the eye-witness accounts of Harry James Potter and Remus John Lupin, that Lucius Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were not under the Imperius curse and have long been in the service of You Know Who, of their own free will, however misguided and prejudiced that will might be."

Harry had to hand it to him then. He did just have a certain way with words.

"These three men, these three Death Eaters," Arthur continued. "Are not only in the service of You Know Who, they rank amongst the highest of all his servants. If, as Mr. Brand says, they were only recently placed under the Imperius, how is it they rose to become members of the inner circle? Surely a more loyal, un-cursed Death Eater would have been a better choice. If there is one thing we know about He Who Must Not Be Named, it is that he is no fool. Never would he, or anyone, put someone under Imperius in a position of power such as this one."

Again, another pause for effect and Harry saw Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle fidgeting in their seats, although they remained quiet and a quick glance from Brand made them stay still.

"Unless," Arthur continued, "they were never under the Imperius curse, and Mr. Potter's apprehension of fifteen Death Eaters does not need to be scrutinised as excessive force, as he battled for his life against a vastly superior numbered force. We trust, that is the free people of this country trust, that the Wizengamot will not be blinded by falsities and attempts by Mr. Brand to distract their attention onto Mr. Potter, and make the correct judgement when the time comes. Thank you."

Arthur Weasley cleared his throat again and then turned to come and sit back down. Crouch stood as he did and addressed the court in his booming voice. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley," he said. "If the prosecution would like to present its first witness, we can proceed efficiently and effectively. I would also like to request that the members of the press and Ministry personnel keep their opinions to themselves, and cease whispering."

The courtroom dungeon fell silent as Arthur stood again and said; "The prosecution would ask Remus John Lupin to take the stand."

Harry watched, as did two hundred others, as Remus stood up and walked over to the podium positioned near the front of the room, the witness stand, and stepped up the two steps and onto the wooden stand.

"You are Remus John Lupin, Head of the Auror Division and Ministry employee?" Crouch asked.

"I am," Remus said steadily.

"You may proceed, Mr. Weasley."

"Thank you, Minister," Arthur said and walked back out around to the front of the room. "Mr. Lupin," he said. "You were the one who delivered the captured inner circle to the Ministry holding cells, were you not?"

"I was," Lupin said.

"Were Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, the three accused, amongst those fifteen?" Arthur asked.

Remus nodded quickly and looked at Arthur and only Arthur. "They were," he answered. "Robed as Death Eaters."

"Were there any signs of the Imperius curse upon these three, once they had been revived after Mr. Potter had rendered them unconscious?" Mr. Weasley asked, glancing quickly at Lucius Malfoy.

"Objection," Brand said suddenly and stood. "There are no visible signs that a person is acting under the influence of Imperius. This line of questioning is pointless."

"Mr. Weasley," Crouch said. "Move on from here."

Arthur nodded. "What I mean is," he said slowly. "Did they immediately claim to be under Imperius once Ministry interrogation had begun, or did they display any signs of the insanity that is sometimes attributed to spending too long of a time under this curse. Did you believe them when they said they had been placed under imperius?"

Remus shook his head slowly and then addressed Mr. Weasley. "As soon as they were revived and interrogated, separately I might add, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle immediately claimed they had been under Imperius for a period of about one month. It seemed strange that they had all snapped out of the curse so quickly after capture... my personal opinion is that they were lying. I did not believe them, and they were returned to Ministry confinement until this trial."

"Thank you, Mr. Lupin," Arthur then said. "Mr. Brand, your witness."

Howland Brand remained seated for a few moments until Mr. Weasley had sat down, and then he took a sip of water from the glass in front of him, and examined a piece of parchment. Eventually he stood and walked quickly out around the table. When he spoke, he did so quickly and curtly.

"Mr. Lupin," he said fiercely. "You are a werewolf, are you not?"

"OBJECTION!" roared Mr. Weasley, standing up so fast he knocked over his chair backwards. "That has nothing to do with this trial, and only serves to discredit Mr. Lupin."

"Mr. Brand," Crouch said strictly. "Do not go there."

It was too late though, Harry saw, the damage had been done. Most members of the Wizengamot were too narrow-minded and saw Remus as a threat, a dark creature. They would disregard his opinion, even if it was truth.

"No more questions," Brand then said, smiling sickeningly as he returned to his seat.

Harry was surprised to hear Arthur swearing under his breath as Crouch dismissed Remus and he sat back down, looking slightly shaken. "It's going to be all on you now, Harry," Mr. Weasley whispered angrily and Harry nodded.

"Would Mr. Malfoy, Crabbe or Goyle like to say anything in their defence?" Crouch then asked as the Wizengamot whispered amongst themselves.

Brand turned to look at his defendants and Harry did as well. He saw them shake their heads in the negative. "No, Minister," Brand said. "My clients trust in the wisdom of the Wizengamot, and of the knowledge known of their characters. They hope that the truth in their story will be seen though, and that they will not be sentenced for being nothing more than innocent men."

"Very well," Crouch sighed. Harry could tell he was trying to remain impartial, but it was obvious he thought Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were guilty. But he didn't have any power beyond that which the verdict of the remainder of the Wizengamot gave him. "Mr. Weasley, your next witness..."

"Indeed," Arthur said quickly and stood up once again, sipping from his glass of water. "The prosecution would ask Harry James Potter to take the stand."

Swallowing his nerves, Harry stood and walked around the table as silence spread like a wave across all in the dungeon. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, and the only sound was that of the quills scratching across the parchment of the reporters.

Harry walked up and into the witness stand, staring up to Minister Crouch on the top bench, along with Dumbledore and Amelia Bones. "You are Harry James Potter?" Crouch asked, staring at him curiously from behind his spectacles.

Harry cleared his throat and rested his arms on the wooden stand. "I am," he said deeply.

"Proceed, Mr. Weasley."

"Thank you, Minister," Arthur said and then turned to Harry, smiling encouragingly. "Harry," he began. "Is it true that, after an attempt on your life six years ago, you went into hiding to train yourself to fight against He Who Must Not Be Named and his armies?"

Harry nodded and spoke without a hint of a lie in his voice. "It is."

Arthur nodded. "A most admirable goal," he said calmly, removing his glasses and using the sleeve of his robe to clean them thoughtfully and thoroughly. "You were the only one in a position to see the defendants before their capture by Ministry forces, is that true?"

"It is," Harry said quickly, glancing at Malfoy and then Brand.

"Do you know of the effects and behaviour of a person under the effects of the Imperius curse?" Arthur asked, turning to face the entire procession as he did. "And would you say that any of the Death Eaters you stunned that day were under it?"

"I know the effects very well," Harry said, thinking of the times he had been under it and the madness and strange behaviour exhibited by those who couldn't fight it like he could. "And there is no doubt in my mind that those three," he said strongly, pointing to Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in turn, "were never under the Imperius, and that they were in complete control of their actions on the 4^th."

"Please could you tell the Wizengamot what occurred that morning between yourself and the defendants," Arthur waved his hand towards the high benches, acknowledging the Wizengamot.

Harry nodded and took a deep breath. "They flew in through the Great Hall," he said. "Smashed a window and came in on their brooms. Fifteen Death Eaters, Voldemort's inner circle-"

Harry was drowned out instantly as dozens of witches and even some wizards, screamed shrilly and paled at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. He looked over to his father and saw him shaking his head regretfully, whilst Crouch tried to regain order in the dungeon.

Eventually, after a few moments the dungeon quieted down and Crouch ceased his shouts for order. "Mr. Potter," he then said angrily. "Please refrain from using that- that name. If any must be given, refer to him as You Know Who or He Who Must Not Be Named." Crouch sat back down as if that settled it but Harry was shaking his head.

"No," he replied simply, and for a moment no one spoke, as if not quite knowing what to do.

Crouch looked confused and then he stood again, clearing his throat importantly. "Continue, Mr. Weasley."

Arthur looked nervously between Harry and the Wizengamot, as if not sure what to expect if he continued questioning this strange and powerful boy he had called to the stand. "Err... please continue, Harry," he said somewhat lamely.

Harry nodded. "As I was saying," he said. "The inner circle had just dropped in and I was in the Entrance Hall at the time. I heard them, so I ran into the Great Hall, not entirely sure what to expect. As soon as I entered the Hall the doors snapped closed and a ward was placed upon them. A time delay ward that would keep them locked. I didn't know the incantation...."

"Okay," Arthur said. "Continue..."

"I could have broken the ward and escaped," Harry continued. "But when I saw them, all of them, I felt confident enough in my abilities that I could disable the fifteen of them. I didn't want them free to roam in the castle, as Hogwarts is home to many Muggleborn students, and we all know the agenda of Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

Another session of screams and this time Crouch looked furious. "Mr. Potter," he whispered dangerously. "Continue... very carefully."

Harry paused for a moment and seemed to appraise Crouch before continuing. "Right..." he said. "I cast a summoning charm on the fifteen masked Death Eaters and removed all their masks. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were amongst them and I believe the others were all Death Eaters known to the Ministry, and are in Azkaban now."

"That is correct," Amelia Bones answered. "Only these three claimed innocence."

Harry nodded. "None of the Death Eaters in the Great Hall that day were under Imperius. None of them," he said gravely. "Lucius Malfoy was leading the pack, he wasn't being controlled by any of them, neither were Crabbe and Goyle. He said it was his job to take me back to his Master, because I was supposed to be dead."

"And then what happened?" Arthur asked.

"Well I refused," Harry chortled. "He didn't seem to understand that though, and wands were drawn. A few of them - I think it might have been Bellatrix Lestrange and Rookwood - they cast the cruciatus curse at me but I dodged it. This angered Malfoy as I was supposed to be brought in unharmed. He ordered them to cast stunners at me, at the same time."

"You dodged fifteen stunning spells?" Arthur said, unable to keep the disbelief out of his own voice.

Harry shook his head. "No," he answered. "I cast a reflective shield charm, along with an absorption spell, heat seeking charm, and a multiplier spell. All fifteen stunners hit my modified shield and were absorbed into it, and then returned upon the Death Eaters three fold, as forty five stunners."

"Objection," Howland Brand said, jumping up from his chair. "The magic required for forty five stunning spells would be beyond that of a sixteen year old wizard. In fact it would be beyond any wizard on this earth. The witness is lying."

"Ministry spellworkers," Dumbledore began, speaking for the first time from up on the high bench. "Mapped the magic used in the Hall that morning. At approximately eleven thirty that morning, sixty identical spells were fired over the course of one minute. All of them were the Stunning spell and forty five of them came from a single source. Mr. Potter did manage this amazing magic."

Brand opened his mouth to speak but then thought better of it, and sat down quickly. Although Harry noticed that the quick quotes quills were now scribbling so fast that it was almost a blur. Mr. Weasley motioned for him to continue.

"All but one of the Death Eaters were stunned by my stunners," Harry said. "Bellatrix Lestrange managed to dodge those that latched onto her, but I fired another and she was out cold."

"You say Lucius Malfoy was leading the Death Eaters to capture you and deliver you to You Know Who?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"Yes," Harry agreed.

"What was Mr. Malfoy's manner whilst speaking to you?" Arthur asked.

"I could tell that he wasn't acting under Imperius," Harry said. "I would have known that anyway, as there is an unspoken fear in Hogwarts caused by his son, Draco Malfoy. He has made it quite clear that anyone who annoys him will suffer, he will tell his father... and while no one has ever voiced it, it is implied he has been a Death Eater for many years."

"You are quite sure that Mr. Malfoy was not acting under Imperius?"

Harry nodded. "Absolutely positive. He was too... awake, if you understand me. He was too aware of what he was doing, he was following orders, but of his own free will."

Mr. Weasley smiled slightly. "And do you find it odd, that Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle managed to break the out of the trance of the Imperius curse as soon as they were captured?"

Harry laughed harshly, quietly. "I don't find it odd," he said slowly. "I find it convenient."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Arthur said. "Your witness, Mr. Brand."

Harry tapped his fingers defiantly on the wood of the witness stand as Brand made an attempt to unnerve him by once again taking his time to stand up. Displaying his impatience though, Harry sighed and it echoed magnificently throughout the dungeon. Brand stood up quickly and walked around his table and over to Harry.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," he said and Harry glanced quickly at the large clock on the far wall. It had just gone twelve, they had been in here two hours! It hadn't felt that long to him.

"Good afternoon," Harry replied emotionlessly.

"A rather interesting tale you have just woven for us," he said lightly, pacing up and down in front of the stand.

"It was the truth," Harry said dangerously.

"That remains to be seen,' Brand replied calmly, smiling smugly again. It was as smile that didn't, and probably never, reached his eyes. "You said you knew the effects of the Imperius curse very well, could you please tell us where you gathered this information?"

Harry nodded. "I've read about it in several books and-"

"AH!" Brand said quickly, smiling with a premature victory. "And you believe that this makes you an expert on one of the most unforgivable of curses. One cannot discern this knowledge from books alone."

"Let me finish," Harry said quietly, and all in the room fell silent. "I have read about it several books, as I needed to know what I was up against. But apart from that I've been around enough people under the curse to notice the subtle changes it wrought in them, and finally I've had it cast upon me at least half a dozen times."

"You have been placed under the Imperius curse, Mr. Potter?" Brand asked. "What were you told to do?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing, I can fight it and shake it off in a matter of seconds."

Brand waved his hand dismissively. "Impossible," he said testily.

Harry sighed with frustration. "Ask any of the Aurors that saw my duel with Voldemort the other day," he said, and then paused to give everyone a moment to get over it. "He threw the Imperius at me and I shook it off just as quickly. There were many witnesses, including Remus Lupin, my father James Potter and Albus Dumbledore."

Brand's cheeks flushed red with anger but he managed to control himself. "Be that as it may, it still does not mean that you can identify the application of the Imperius curse upon anyone. And that includes Mr. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were indeed under this particular curse."

"Okay," Harry said gravely. "Then let's ask them that whilst they are under Veritaserum."

Silence for a moment. "Veritaserum cannot be used in court," Brand said quickly, quietly.

"Why not?" Harry asked angrily, staring from Brand and then up into the sea of faces staring down at him. "It would dispense with the need for this trial and find those three guilty."

"Do not think you can renegotiate the law for use in your own interests, Potter," Brand said quickly, his face turning an even deeper red that Harry thought was not very flattering.

"I wouldn't presume to!" Harry shouted, as loud mutterings broke out between all those present. "I'm simply saying that this could be over now with a few drops of potion!"

"LISTEN, MR. POTTER-" Brand began but was cut off as another voice drowned them all out.

"ENOUGH!" Crouch bellowed. "Veritaserum cannot be lawfully used in court because the effects can differ from wizard to wizard, and there reactions could be compromised."

"Or they might end up doing something stupid like telling the truth," Harry said fiercely, glaring at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Mr. Potter," Crouch continued furiously. "One more outburst like that and you will be removed from the court and your testimony disregarded!"

Harry threw his hand up in frustration. "I've had enough of this..." he whispered and ran a hand through his unruly hair.

Brand decided to cut his losses there, and without saying another word returned to his seat furiously. Crouch dismissed Harry and he returned to his own seat, glaring around the room as he did.

"Now," declared Crouch. "Do you have anymore witnesses at all, Mr. Weasley?" he asked.

"No," Arthur replied.

"Mr. Brand," Crouch turned to him. "Is there anything you or your defendants would like to say?"

Brand turned to Malfoy, who shook his head slightly. "We have nothing to add," Brand said coldly.

"Very well," Crouch nodded as if relieved. "Wizengamot," he then said. "You have heard testimony from both Remus John Lupin and Harry James Potter; you have judged and regarded their character, as well as that of the defendants."

Harry regarded the entire Wizengamot as a whole, seated on the highest benches in the room. He knew it had now come down to how many had been bribed, how many were Death Eaters, and how many sympathised with their cause. He felt that there was a fairly good chance that more than half belonged to one or more of those groups.

"All those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?" Crouch said.

Harry watched with a sinking feeling in his stomach as, the forty seven members of the jury, of the Wizengamot, raised their hands to clear the three Death Eaters. It wasn't a majority vote, but Crouch counted them quickly. "And all those that find the defendants guilty of the crime of being willing Death Eaters?"

Twenty one unwavering hands rose to convict the sadistic killers seated chained to the magical chairs in the middle of the dungeon. But that was not enough. Twenty six had voted to clear them.

They had been cleared.

Harry saw Crouch take a deep, shuddering breath, and then looking from Amelia Bones to Dumbledore, he saw the anger on their faces, but he couldn't undermine the vote of the Wizengamot. To do so would mean losing his position as Minister, and these Death Eaters would still walk free. "Very well," he whispered. "Lucius Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle, you have been cleared of all charges and are - are free to go."

Instantly the chains holding the three men in place slackened and they stood up smugly as many of the wizards and witches in the crowd applauded the Wizengamot's decision. Arthur Weasley sighed in defeat and James punched the table before him hard. But Harry was absolutely furious.

They're applauding these killers! he thought in disbelief. He was not going to stand for it.

Harry stood up angrily and powerfully as Brand smiled victoriously, shaking Lucius Malfoy's hand. "GOD!" he shouted and everyone in the dungeon abruptly fell silent. "This Wizengamot is as corrupt as it is useless!"

It took a moment, but then suddenly many gasps of shock, outrage and denial swept throughout the courtroom. Suddenly the silence was broken and Harry came under a verbal attack from almost everyone in the room, save the decent members of the Wizengamot and a few others.

"MR. POTTER!" Crouch bellowed, magically amplifying his voice. "I HOPE I DON'T NEED TO REMIND YOU THAT THIS WIZENGAMOT WILL BE EVALUATING YOU IN FIFTEEN MINUTES, AND THAT YOU WOULD DO WELL TO KEEP SUCH COMMENTS TO YOURSELF."

Harry scowled and then not wasting another minute, turned and stormed out of the room on his heel, anger and fury exuding off of him in the form of pure magic, making it appear that his skin had a particularly glossy sheen and small bolts of power erupted from his hand, disappearing to nothing as they weren't used.

The doors to the courtroom opened of their own accord as he approached and he turned left towards the end of the corridor, away from the cameras and reporters. James had followed him all the way, as had Remus and Arthur.

"Unbelievable," James spat, hitting the wall hard. "I can't believe they got away with it."

"We did everything we could," Remus said, shaking his head.

"It wasn't enough," Arthur replied. "That's three Death Eaters back out there, and three more reasons to keep fighting."

"Oh we are going to fight this," Harry whispered. "If the Ministry is no longer effective then we'll just have to do it ourselves."

"What do you mean?" asked James, but Harry didn't get to answer.

"JAMES! HARRY!" called a familiar voice.

They both turned to see Lily, Melissa, and Michael walking down the corridor to greet them, and the Aurors keeping the press back let them through. Harry took a few deep breaths to calm himself and then walked over with James, Remus, and Arthur to meet them.

"We heard what happened," Lily said quietly. "This is not right."

"Of course it isn't," Melissa said angrily, her eyes sparkling with rage.

James hugged his wife and ruffled the hair on Michael's head. "There's nothing we can do about it now," he said. "Harry just has to get through his appraisal before we can think about that."

Lily nodded and turned to Harry. "Mind what you say, Harry," she said warningly. "Crouch won't suffer fools easily."

Harry sighed. "Then why is he surrounded by them?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and shrugging. "Let's just get this over with."

And with that, Harry walked past all of them and back towards the courtroom. His eyes were sparkling dangerously as well. Those that knew him well would know that right now, he was absolutely furious. As he walked back to the oak doors, Harry saw Lucius Malfoy talking to Prophet reporters down the end of the corridor and for a moment he was ready to take him then and there, but he decided against it. For now, he'd make the Wizengamot sorry they ordered him to this evaluation.

Harry stormed back into the room just as angrily as when he had left it ten minutes ago. Everyone in their fell silent again as he entered and Harry saw that none of them had moved. The Wizengamot was still seated on the highest benches, and all the reporters and Ministry personnel were still in their seats on the lower benches.

The only differences were that to the layout of the room. The tables, chairs and witness stand had been removed from the courtroom, and only one solitary chained chair remained in the centre of the room.

Lily, Michael, Melissa, James, Remus and even Arthur followed Harry in and then walked up the stairs to sit on the lower levels of the benches, anxious that things were not going to go according to anyone's plan.

Harry approached the chained chair and looked down to it, before looking up questioningly at the Wizengamot. "Take a seat, Mr. Potter," Crouch said imperiously, gesturing to the chain bound chair.

Harry frowned, removed his wand from his robes and then, just like Dumbledore had done for his disciplinary hearing back in the summer for his fifth year, conjured a squashy armchair out of thin air, next to the barbaric chained seat. He sat down defiantly in his own chair.

"Let's get on with this," he said angrily, waving his hand dismissively at the Wizengamot.

"I'd advise you right now, Mr. Potter," Crouch said dangerously. "To watch what you say from this point on."

Harry glared angrily at the Minister and then those in the Wizengamot that had voted to clear the Death Eaters. "And I'd advise all of you," he replied, not giving an inch. "To watch what you say, because I'm not in the mood to see any more of the stupidity you just displayed in allowing those murderers to walk free."

Crouch opened his mouth to speak but Harry wasn't finished yet. He sat up straighter in his chair and continued. "And I apologise in advance to those of you in the Wizengamot who did vote correctly today. Please know that you made the right choice, and that my anger is not directed towards you in anyway."

"ENOUGH!" Crouch shouted, slamming his fist on the bench in front of him. "You know why you're here?" he asked Harry curtly.

Harry nodded. "You're afraid of my power and want to control me. That about right?"

Harry saw that the dozens of reporters in the room just loved his attitude. Rita Skeeter was speaking so fast into her quick Quotes Quill that she was fast running out of parchment, but her eyes never left the proceedings.

"You are here," Crouch corrected quickly. "Because of your use of dark magic on the morning of the 4^th, no matter how effective it was you broke Wizarding law."

Harry nodded in agreement, but was finding it extremely hard to care. He remembered the last time he had come under the scrutiny of the entire Wizengamot back before fifth year. He had been sick to his stomach and scared of expulsion. Now he was faced with something much greater but he didn't even bat an eye. He had come so far over the last eighteen months, physically, magically and mentally.

"I did nothing but defend myself and try to end this war that half of this Wizengamot seems to want to continue," Harry said calmly, but coolly.

"Witnesses say you cast the Vestic curse. That is illegal dark magic," Crouch continued, not wasting a second. "Its use enough, whether or not it kills, means six months imprisonment in Azkaban. Now, no one is denying that you did do a very heroic thing duelling You Know Who, but your motives are not very clear."

Harry folded his hands across his chest, calming down slightly, but only slightly. "I want to end this war. I want to kill Voldemort-" Again, many theatrical gasps and screams rang out throughout the room.

"Mr. Potter," Crouch said exasperated. "If you speak that name one more time you will find that the Wizengamot will not be so lenient."

Harry stared at him incredulously. "You just let three Death Eaters walk free, how could you be any less lenient?"

Harry quickly glanced at his father to see that he had a small smile playing on his lips. He saw Michael looking at him with admiration, Melissa with indifference, and Lily with worry. He turned back to Crouch.

"At the moment, Mr. Potter," he said coldly. "You are not presenting yourself in a good light. At this rate we may have to bring charges of dark magic against you, and believe me when I say that Azkaban is a surety if that happens."

Harry felt that it was gratifying to see the looks on their faces when he just shrugged that prospect away. "Hmm..." he said. "What makes you think Azkaban can hold me, Minister Crouch?" he asked truthfully.

He was met with silence.

'Because it can't," Harry continued as everyone in the room looked down on him in silence. Once again the only noise coming from the scratching of quills. "Now I'm here to do one thing. I don't know what you people think you are doing? But I'm going to kill Voldemort and I don't need you lot trying to hinder me in that goal."

"You are only a boy of sixteen," one of the Wizengamot said. "You cannot hope to defeat You Know Who."

Harry glared stoically at this man. He was one of the ones who had voted to clear Malfoy and the others. "Just watch me..." he replied.

"Despite what you may think, Mr. Potter," Crouch then spoke. "Azkaban will be able to confine you if a sentence is carried out. The Dementors have the ability to drain a wizard of his pow-"

"The Dementors!" Harry cried out in disbelief. "The Dementors are still on the island!?"

"Where else would they be, Potter?" another member asked him.

Harry ignored her and kept staring at Bartemius Crouch. "Who makes sure the Dementors are still loyal to the Ministry?" he asked quickly.

Crouch bristled and Harry frowned even deeper. "Azkaban is guarded by a squad of twenty two Aurors, as well as the Dementors. And that squad of Aurors is under the command of my son, Bartemius Crouch Junior."

For one brief moment, Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing, and then it sunk in, in its entirety. "My god," he said desperately, laughing in disbelief under his breath. "Voldemort already holds Azkaban; you just don't know it yet!"

"Listen, Pot-"

"NO!" Harry shouted, jumping to his feet. "YOU LISTEN! And listen well. Voldemort - Oh for Merlins sake get a hold of yourselves! You people are supposed to be the backbone of Wizarding justice, and yet you scream in terror at the mere mention of his name. VOLDEMORT! VOLDEMORT! VOLDEMORT!"

The Wizengamot was silent now, and even the quick quotes quills had come to an ominous stop. They simply couldn't comprehend or control this boy in front of them, who showed no fear of the evilest creature in their land.

Harry sighed and did not sit down. "Now," he said calmly, quietly. "I swear to you that all I want to do is defeat Voldemort, and I can do it, given the chance. I don't want power but I have it, and I think that is the reason I do have it. I would never use it for evil and I would like to work cooperatively with the Ministry, more specifically the Auror Division. None of those who saw me duel the other day could say I'm working against you, I'm here to work with you."

It was Crouch who spoke first, and his voice was sincere when he did. "Mr. Potter," he said. "I have been the Minister for Magic in the United Kingdom for fifteen of the hardest years in this war. Can you honestly tell me that your only goal is to end this conflict?"

"I can honestly tell you that," Harry replied. "But let me show you instead. I am willing to fight, and for however long it takes over the coming months I'll see it through, and end this war once and for all."

Crouch and the other wizards and witches in the room were silent for a long time, and then finally the Minister responded to him. "I'm not entirely sure why," he said slowly. "But I believe you...."

Harry inclined his head. "Then where do we go from here?"

Crouch shook his head. "From here you are free to go. Matters as grave as these are best discussed between less people. We will contact you in a few days, Mr. Potter. Goodbye."

Crouch then tapped his wand against a circular golden gong that hung on the wall behind him, and the sound reverberated throughout the dungeon. It was over, the dungeon had been dismissed. Harry stood and waved his hand, causing his special chair to disappear. His family was striding down the stairs to meet him and he headed in that direction. The Wizengamot had begun to filter out of the exits on the high benches but the reporters had no such destination in mind.

They were also descending the stairs quickly to meet Harry. "We should hurry," he said as he drew level with his family.

"Right you are, Harry," James said quickly, ushering his youngest children towards the oak doors.

"I'll slow them down," Remus said. "And probably see you later next week."

"Thanks, Remus," James said, shaking his hand quickly and then heading towards the doors with Harry. "Well I don't think anybody has ever spoken to the Wizengamot like that in centuries," he smiled as he and Harry jogged up the corridor after Lily, Michael and Melissa.

"Then they had it coming," Harry answered. A few minutes later and after jostling through the crowds and outrunning the reporters, the five of them came to the golden grille of the Ministry lift.

"We can Apparate out when we get to the Atrium, Harry," James said. "What does everyone say to lunch in Diagon Alley?"

"That sounds good," Michael said, holding his stomach.

"We'll floo to the Leaky Cauldron and meet you there," Lily said, squeezing her husband's hand.

"How'd Quidditch go?" Harry asked Michael as the lift ascended towards the Atrium.

"Gryffindor won!" he exclaimed. "First time in nine years. The score was 410 - 50. Slytherin couldn't believe it."

The lift came to a sudden stop and the grille slid back to reveal the Atrium, which had been cleared of most of the reporters from earlier, but it was still crowded with ministry officials and other visitors. James and Harry stepped into the Atrium and then with a nod to each other and saying a brief goodbye to the others, Apparated away to Diagon Alley.

Harry reappeared instantly three miles away on the Apparation point in Diagon Alley. The wind felt good on his face after spending all morning and half the afternoon in that stuffy Ministry courtroom, but he had to shield his eyes against the bright light for a few moments as he adjusted to the glare.

James appeared next to him and together they moved away from the Apparation pad and up the Alley towards the Leaky Cauldron. "You turned more than a few heads today, Harry," James said quietly as they walked through the throng of shoppers. "And inspired hope in even old Barty Crouch's heart. I hope you can do those things you said."

"I can," Harry replied confidently, thankful that this day was drawing to a close. He was incredibly tired.

"Where do you go from here?"

Harry shrugged as they walked past the apothecary and then towards the brick wall that led to the Leaky Cauldron. "We go on the attack," Harry said seriously, removing his wand to tap the bricks and reveal the backdoor of the Leaky Cauldron. There was no need though, because as they approached the bricks started to move.

Harry shrugged and put away his wand, but it was in his hand again a split second later as Lily, his mother, ran desperately through the brick opening, dragging Michael behind her with tears in here eyes.

"JAMES!" she called.

"What is it!?" he asked quickly, fear flashing through and behind his eyes uncontrollably.

"IT'S MELISSA!" Lily cried, collapsing into James' shoulder. "WE- we were just about to floo away but then this- this man in black robes grabbed her and then disappeared. Oh God! James, James he used a Portkey."

****