The Trial

Pain/pleasure...pleasure/pain. Inseparable, indescribable, incredible...

Yes, I'm aware that's how Soup's On starts, but it describes how I feel right now. On one hand, I should be happy, in a vindictive sort of way: my brother's murderer is being brought to justice.

On the other hand, my brother's murderer is also my brother.

It's been a month since Fred was killed. Three weeks since Ron was arrested in connection. Two since I found out I would have to testify at his trial. One since I found out Harry was testifying as well. Half an hour since I found out there would be no other witnesses...well, besides Ginny, but I don't think she really counts.

I read that people who lose someone go through five stages of grief: disbelief, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. (Someone dying goes through the same steps.) Well, my family went through disbelief fairly quickly; I could not deny what I'd experienced, and Fred's limp body on that pile of rubble cancelled any other doubts. There was anger, sure; Dad railed for two days that if he ever found out who'd done that to us he would personally kill him. I know Bill and I bargained; we were willing to promise God anything if He would allow Fred to come back. All of us went through depression for about three days. By July twenty-ninth, we had accepted the fact that Fred was dead.

And then...two days later, we started the process all over again. Did you know that a person whose family member is arrested for murder goes through almost the same process? Well, neither did I, until Ron was arrested.

Everyone is at a different stage of the process; unlike with Fred, we didn't all go through it the same. Percy's way back in disbelief. Bill--though he doesn't show it--is permanently stuck on anger. Most of the rest of us are in depression.

Except me. I'm on step five. Yes, believe it or not, I have actually come to accept my baby brother's decision to become a Death Eater. I don't agree with it, I don't even pretend to like it, but I've accepted it as fact.

I stop for a second next to Harry before I climb to my seat. Harry is in the front row, with Hermione, both of them looking frightened and slightly ill. I swallow before speaking.

"This has to be hard on you," I say.

Harry looks up at me in astonishment. "Hard on us?" he repeats. "Well, yeah, but...gosh, George, isn't it hard on you too?"

"Sure," I admit. "But still, he was your best friend."

"He's your brother," Harry points out.

"So was Fred," I remind him quietly. "Never stopped me from telling him or anyone else when he screwed up."

Harry doesn't know what to say to that. I just head for my seat.

Percy is up with the minister, poised to take notes. I can tell by his face that he's quickly waking up to the fact that this is not a lie. In about ten seconds, his eyes squint in anger, then raise to the ceiling as though he's praying, then close briefly as though he's trying not to cry.

A man stands, and the room falls silent. It is Wesley Cummerbund, the head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation and the official or the trial.

"Bring him in," he says, his voice echoing off the walls.

And in he comes, flanked by two dementors. I hardly even recognise him anymore. His face is sharper, almost harder. His hair, once a brilliant red, seems darker somehow. His blue eyes, once sparkling with life, have a hardened chill to them that sends shivers up and down my spine. I feel Ginny start to sway slightly and reach for her hand.

Ron looks around with a detached air, as though he no longer really cares. I notice his gaze linger briefly on Harry and Hermione, and for a split second I see the boy he used to be. Then it vanishes. He seats himself in the chair, and it binds him instantly. I feel my stomach tighten.

Mr. Cummerbund looks down at him. "Ronald Bilius Weasley," he says in his loud booming voice, "you are charged of alliance with the Dark Lord. How do you plead?"

"Guilty." Ron's voice is loud and clear. He was always told to tell the truth.

"You are further charged," Cummerbund continues, "of espionage with the Dark Lord, carrying information on the whereabouts and movements of Harry Potter and others. How do you plead?"

"Guilty." I wonder if Ron has any qualms about this. He seems so uncaring...as though it doesn't really matter to him that he could have managed to get his best friend killed.

"You are further charged with torturing the six-year-old child of Auror Marcus Spencer in an attempt to make him join the Death Eaters. How do you plead?"

I blanch and Mum gives a stifled wail as Ron says, "Guilty." We didn't know about that. It makes me wonder what else he was up to.

"You--are--further--charged," and here Cummerbund seems to be having difficulty with his words, "of passing information and setting up a trap leading to the capture and death of Frederick John Weasley. How do you plead?"

"Guilty." I could have told them that. In fact, I probably will be telling them that shortly. It depends on what they ask me. I still can't believe that Ron seems so callous.

Cummerbund nods. "We will now hear the testimony. Mr. Lucci? Your questions."

Mr. Lucci stands up. He looks cold, hard, as callous and emotionless as his subject. "Mr. Weasley," he says in a stern, carrying voice, "please tell us. When did you become a Death Eater?"

"Officially, four months ago."

Four months? I work it out quickly in my head. Easter vacation. Ron would've been just barely seventeen. I didn't know they were accepted that young.

"Officially?"

"I've been working for them for a year. However, only fully-fledged wizards are permitted to join. And I didn't turn seventeen until last March. Over Easter vacation, I managed to get out for the initiation ceremony." Mum gives another low sob, almost inaudible. I, too, am startled and saddened. A year? He's been hiding things from us for a year? Ron doesn't hide things from us often. What happened to my baby brother?

"Why did you decide to become a Death Eater?" Mr. Lucci asks him.

"I was mad at Harry," Ron answers. He seems unconcerned at the effect his words will have on Harry himself.

I listen as Ron explains that he was afraid of being left out when Harry and Hermione started going out. My heart hurts. Ron always did jump to conclusions; this one just proved fatal. At first I wonder if Ron was jealous, but then I realise. It was not jealousy that led him to become a Death Eater. It was pride. He couldn't stand the thought, however unfounded, that Harry might betray his friendship by abandoning him; thus, he betrayed Harry.

Finally, Mr. Lucci moves on and asks why Ron tortured the little girl. There is the briefest of pauses, during which I notice Ron glance at Harry. Finally, he answers, "I knew from experience that if I threatened someone near and dear to his heart--that if I tortured that someone--he'd crack, do whatever I asked as long as I didn't hurt his daughter. I don't think he expected me to actually do what I threatened to do."

Next to me, Ginny tenses. I glance at her; her eyes are wide from horror.

"How did you know from experience?"

Ron looks up, staring at one person for the first time since his entrance; his sapphire eyes lock with Ginny's as he speaks. "Two years ago, when the Dark Lord came out into the open, I was one of the six students in the Department of Mysteries. Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy threatened my little sister. I would have done anything they asked me to do to keep her safe. And Harry very nearly turned himself over to the Death Eaters to keep Neville Longbottom safe. He would have if the Aurors hadn't shown up."

I never knew about all this. Ginny and Ron are--were--generally rather quiet about their experience in the Department of Mysteries. In the silence, I hear Ginny murmur, "It was only last year. He got his dates crossed again."

I don't say anything. No one else appears to have heard her. Mr. Lucci merely says, "No further questions."

Cummerbund stands up. "First witness: George Eric Weasley."

I stand and walk to where I am directed to stand, my stomach twisting with nerves. A justice holds out a Bible. I rest my right hand on it and swear to tell the Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing But the Truth. Why would I lie? It would be like wronging Fred.

"Mr. Weasley," Mr. Lucci says calmly, "could you please tell the jury exactly what happened the night of Frederick Weasley's death?"

Well, what am I supposed to say? No, I can't tell you, unless you want me to start bawling and shouting at my brother? I take a deep breath and begin. "Well, Ron disappeared early that morning--he said he had somewhere to be. Around noon Fred and I had a big rush of people at our joke shop. When they left, an owl came in with a letter that said Ron had been kidnapped and that if we didn't reach the centre of the catacombs beneath London in two hours Ron would be dead." A slight tremor comes into my voice. This is harder than I thought it would be. "We got to the chamber Ron was supposed to be in... It was entirely empty. We were working ourselves into a good panic when we heard a voice--a high, cruel, cold voice, laughing at us. Whoever it was called us fools, told us it was we, not Ron, who'd be dead within the hour. And then the ceiling fell on top of us. The only place that was at all safe was right on the very edge of the wall."

I take a deep breath; this is difficult to continue. "I got out with a bruised arm. Fred never made it. When...when I dug him out, I was just sitting there...holding him...and I heard laughter. I--I didn't tell anyone right afterwards, because I hoped so much I was wrong, but somehow I knew I wasn't. One of the laughs was Ron's. I'd know it anywhere."

I see Ron's face flicker briefly, and again I glimpse the boy he used to be. I wonder what he's feeling, but Mr. Lucci lets me sit down and I rejoin my family.

Harry is called up next. I do not focus on him as he answers questions about his relationship with Ron; I focus on my brother instead. And slowly, with every syllable Harry utters, Ron--my Ron--the real Ron--resurfaces, battling back Death Eater Ron. I want to cry. They can punish Death Eater Ron all they want, but Real Ron needs to go free. Prison will kill him.

Mr. Lucci dismisses Harry as well. Ginny tenses again, preparing to stand and testify, but the court recesses. She looks at me in surprise as Ron is led out of the room again, but the surprise dissipates as a scribe taps her on the shoulder. "Miss Weasley, you presence is requested in the judge's chambers...this way." Then I understand: they didn't want Ginny to testify in front of Ron for fear she'd be dishonest to protect him.

Harry and Hermione are just outside the door. Percy joins me and we join them.

"How're you holding up?" Harry asks us.

"It's harder than I thought it would be," I admit.

"I've been holding on to the hope that he'll get off," Percy adds. "But as the trial progresses it's just hurting. There's no hope, is there?"

Harry hesitates, then shakes his head. "I'm afraid not. All the evidence is against him. The best we can hope for is a lessened sentence."

"I was afraid of that," I sigh.

The call comes for us to go back in. I am not looking forward to going back in, but I take my seat nonetheless. Mum is still sobbing. Ginny has begun as well. Dad is white as a sheet. Charlie is just shaking his head. I sit next to Bill. A change has come over him; his hands are clenched, his head bowed. I know he is praying for Ron's release. He has passed anger and begun bargaining.

Wiping my eyes to clear a few stubborn tears, I look down and see Ron sit down. He is Real Ron now, not Death Eater Ron. He looks scared--and sorry for what he's done. I bite my lip hard and wipe my eyes again. I find it harder to hold the tears back when I see Ron and Harry make eye contact.

Cummerbund stands. "Has the jury reached its verdict?"

"We have," says one of the jurors, standing up.

"How does the jury find?"

"We find the defendant guilty on all counts."

I bow my head. We all knew it was coming; Ron himself admitted to his guilt. Somehow, that doesn't make it any easier to handle.

I raise my head again as Cummerbund continues. "All in favour of life imprisonment, please raise your hands."

All but three jurors raise their hands. I feel sure they would have recommended Ron receive the Kiss. My stomach clenches again. The courtroom begins to clear, but I merely sit and watch the dementors lift Ron from his chair.

"George."

I look up. Harry and Hermione are right beside me, looking pale. "George," Harry says quietly, "we're going to talk to him. Do you want to come?"

I stand up and follow them. I do not know what I'm going to say, but I try to compose something as we wait for the dementors to bring Ron into the holding cell they have prepared. Ron. I'm not mad at you. I still love you, even though you did a horrible thing. You were indirectly responsible for Fred's death, but I can't hate you. You're my baby brother.

I just hope I'll be able to say it.

Ron looks surprised as he comes in. Harry steps forward first and tells him hoarsely that he meant everything he said. Hermione tries to apologise for making him think they'd ignore him, but Ron tells her it's okay.

Then I step forward, my carefully planned speech running through my head. "Ron..." I begin, then burst into tears. I can't help it.

Astonishingly, Ron starts to cry too. "I'm sorry, George, I'm so sorry," he sobs, over and over. The dementors release his arms, amazingly, and he gives me a huge hug. I hug him back, both of us crying the whole time.

"It's okay," I keep telling him. "It's okay." I am trying to reassure myself as much as him. It isn't working.

Finally, reluctantly, I pull away. It is time for me to go. I leave the room slightly ahead of Harry and Hermione and rejoin my family.

Percy puts his hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asks me.

I think of Ron, patiently waiting to be taken to Azkaban, surrounded by his worst memories for the rest of his life. "No," I answer. "But I will be. Someday."