The Trial

No. I can't do this. God, no. Ron's my best friend. My mate. I can't testify against him.

But...but I have to. For myself. For his own good. For Fred. For...

For to stop my babbling. I can't believe I'm ranting like this, but--damn, this hurts. It must be twice as hard on the Weasleys, though. Ron is their son. He betrayed his own brother.

I squeeze Hermione a little tighter around the shoulders; she leans her head against me. She isn't testifying. She came for support...and to see Ron, one last time.

Because he's going to Azkaban. We can't deny that. We can't pretend like it's not going to happen, pretend to be shocked when the sentence falls. I don't know about anyone else, but I'm lousy at faking stuff like that. And I can't deny something that hurts so bad.

I think George notices as he comes by, because he stops to talk to us. His words surprise me: "This has to be hard on you."

"Hard on us?" I repeat. When did I stop thinking in terms of me and start thinking in terms of we? I ask myself silently, stealing a glance at Hermione. "Well, yeah, but...gosh, George, isn't it hard on you too?"

"Sure," he answers. "But still, he was your best friend."

"He's your brother," I point out.

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

I don't know what to say to that. George just heads for his seat.

A man--Wesley Cummerbundt, I know him well by now--stands up. "Bring him in," he says, his voice echoing slightly.

Hermione buries her face in my shoulder and sobs as Ron is brought in. I tighten my grip again, trying to comfort her. I wish I could look away, too, but I must keep looking at my friend. God, this hurts. He looks my way, and I see a flicker of--was it guilt?--before it quickly disappears again.

Wesley looks down at Ron from his great height. "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 says. No one blinks; we knew it.

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

"Guilty." Well, at least he's telling the truth, I think.

"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 had forgotten about Calla. Ron just says, very calmly, "Guilty."

"You--are--further--charged...of passing information and setting up a trap leading to the capture and death of Frederick John Weasley. How do you plead?"

"Guilty."

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

Johannes Lucci, the Ministry lawyer, stands up before Ron. "Mr. Weasley," he says in a stern, carrying voice, "please tell us. When did you become a Death Eater?"

"Officially, four months ago."

"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."

I remember that. He disappeared one day. Inquiries into where he had gone proved fruitless. Now I know.

"Why did you decide to become a Death Eater?" Johannes asks Ron now.

"I was mad at Harry."

I want to cry. This is all my fault. I knew it. It's always my fault. Hermione, still leaning on my shoulder, squeezes my hand in a comforting gesture. It doesn't really work. I still feel miserable.

"This is all because you had a fight with Harry?" Johannes asks in disbelief.

But Ron is shaking his head. "You couldn't call it a fight. It takes two people to have a fight, and Harry wasn't mad at me. I yelled at him."

"What was the--what were you mad at him for?"

"Which one?"

"Hermione Jane Granger."

Beside me, Hermione stiffens. I hug her a little, telling her that it certainly isn't her fault. And it isn't. The blame must rest on me.

"Why were you mad at him for that?"

"I...I think I was afraid I would be left out." I stare at my friend as he talks freely. "It was a stupid thing to think--I realise that now--but at the time I was afraid of being abandoned by my best friends. I guess that...well, I was so worried and angry at the thought that I turned to the Dark Lord. People I was certain wouldn't abandon me. And I was so mad at Harry that I was willing to do anything to get back at him."

Mr. Lucci nods a little. "I see. Moving on...why did you torture Calla Spencer?"

Ron opens his mouth, glances in my direction, and evidently changes his tactics. He's been telling the truth so far. I know he's still telling it when he speaks again. "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."

"How did you know from experience?"

"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."

Hermione looks up at me in agony. I know that is a painful thing for her to recall--the last night we were truly all friends, the last battle Ron trusted us. Finally, Johannes shakes his head. "No further questions."

George's turn is next. He tells the assembled crowd what happened when Fred was killed. I still find it hard to believe that Ron was a part of that. I'm still struggling with it as George sits down.

"Next witness, Mr. Harry James Potter."

Gently, I release Hermione and stand up, take my oaths. Johannes looks me in the eye. "Mr. Potter, please describe your relationship with the accused."

"He was like the brother I never had," I answer. God, this is painful. More painful by far than any of the other trials I've been to, any of the other trials where Johannes has spoken to me and Wesley has officiated.

"Were you aware at any point in the past year that the accused was working for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Definitely not," I answer strongly. There was never any suspicion in my mind. Sure, Ron had been acting a little odd, but I had never doubted him for a minute. "Ron's my best friend. I'd trust him with my life."

Next to me, Hermione suddenly looks up at me. I know she caught my tense usage. I did it on purpose. Ron is still my friend and I'd still trust him, even if he is a traitor. If Lupin could trust Sirius without proof of his innocence, I can trust Ron with proof of his guilt.

Johannes doesn't notice, however, and continues.. "How many friends--besides yourself and Miss Granger--would you say Mr. Weasley had?"

"Quite a few.," I answer, surprised at the question. "I think everyone liked Ron. He was very rarely hard to get along with."

Johannes seems slightly taken aback. "But you and Miss Granger were closest?"

"Yes. The three of us were best friends from Halloween of our first year. Ron and I were friends even before that--the day we met on the train."

A murmur sweeps the courtroom. I don't know why. Johannes dismisses me and I take my seat, fixing my eyes on Wesley so I don't have to see Ron. Hermione slips her hand into mine and squeezes lightly. I squeeze back, needing comfort right now.

Wesley swallows. "A short recess while the jury makes its decision."

Hermione and I slip out the door and stand in the corridors. Percy and George come to join us.

"How're you holding up?" I ask them, sure it's going to kill them as much as it kills me.

"It's harder than I thought it would be," George says, a bit dismally.

"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?"

On a suppressed sigh, I shake my 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," George sighs.

It's an incredibly brief recess; we're called back in almost at once. Ron is led in a second or two after we take our seats. His eyes meet mine. I can see that he has repented of what he's done. I'm terrified for him.

Wesley stands and faces the jury, just beside me. "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."

Wesley looks at Ron, hard, then turns to the jury again. "All in favour of life imprisonment, please raise your hands."

All but three jurors raise their hands. I know them--they usually recommend doing away with Death Eaters rather than imprisoning them. I am thankful they are the minority this time.

An idea forms in my mind as Ron is led away; I whisper to Hermione. We collect George, then hurry to the chamber where they are holding Ron. He isn't there yet.

A few seconds later, they lead him in. He looks surprised to see us. I step forward first. "Ron," I say, struggling (and failing) to keep my voice normal. "What I said out there is true. Every word of it."

"I know," Ron answers hoarsely.

"Azkaban or Inlé, you'll always be my best friend."

He forces a small grin. "Thanks, mate."

Hermione steps forward too. "Ron, I'm sorry. If I'd known..."

"Don't worry about it," Ron interrupts her. "Really. It was stupid of me to act the way I did. I know that now."

George steps forward, tries to speak, and bursts into tears. Ron does too; the dementors let him go and he and George embrace, sobbing and apologising the whole time.

Finally, we have to go. I lead Hermione out; George follows a half step behind us.

I don't know what any of us will have to face this year, but I promise myself I will not complain. Nothing can be worse than what Ron has to experience--Azkaban. Nothing.