Harry Potter and the Dance of the Warrior

Chapter Four: Return to the Ministry

After more than a bit of groaning and stretching Harry was able to hobble up to Sirius's bedroom to prepare for his day at the Ministry. He really couldn't take a proper shower, as his wounds needed to stay dry, so he had to make do with a quick rinse, but at least he was able to wash his hair.

'Wish Ginny was here to brush it for me, it looked great when she did it--didn't feel all that bad either.' He grinned at the thought.

When his hair was tied back, he began the search for proper garments. He thought about this for a few minutes. Did he have anything appropriate? Harry didn't want to wear Muggle clothes, nor did he want to wear his school robes. He had thought long and hard about this last night. He did not want to appear like a child or a Muggle. He wanted to appear the way he wanted to be treated--a wizard, plain and simple. His work robes were a bit dingy by now and both sets of dress robes were also inappropriate for the occasion.

A thought occurred to him. 'Perhaps something of Sirius'?'

The thought was almost comforting. After a thorough search through the closet and wardrobe, Harry had several choices. Most had not been worn for a long time; they weren't all that big on him. After some magical alterations he settled on a set of dark plum robes.

Harry checked the mirror, and with the exception of his bruised up face, he thought he looked pretty good, like a 'respectable wizard.' He checked his watch; he had an hour before he had to Floo to the Ministry. He hobbled down the stairs with the help of Dumbledore's walking stick, the first waves of nervousness creeping up on him. Entering the kitchen he found Remus already sitting there, sipping a cup of tea.

"Morning."

"Morning, Harry. Sit down, cup of tea? Some breakfast?"

Harry took a seat. "Tea's fine, Remus, not very hungry, thanks."

As his tea was poured, Remus looked at him for a moment before saying, "Nervous?"

"A bit. I should've asked Dumbledore the procedure for today, slipped my mind though. I expect it'll be different from my hearing last year."

Remus gave him a small smile. "Yes Harry, you won't be present for most of the trial; you'll be in a separate room, with a two way mirror, so you can watch."

He continued, "Since they have the letter, and the fact that you're still underage, they should only have to ask you a few questions at the end. Hopefully it will be pretty much settled once you get there."

Harry nodded. "What kind of questions, do you think?"

"I'm sure they'll ask for details of the duel, your point of view, they might ask you to contradict or confirm the statements they have already.

"One thing we learned though, is that the man comes from an old wizarding family, so I'm sure they'll have a well paid advocate on their side.

"Think you're up to it?" Remus asked concern in his voice.

"Yeah, I reckon I can handle it."

"Oh, one more thing," Remus said hesitantly. "Hermione and Ginny will be there."

"What!" Harry said angrily. "I told them...."

"Harry, calm down. They will be in another chamber, no one will see them."

Still angry, he said "But why take the chance!!! Whose brilliant idea was this???"

Remus replied, with the corners of his mouth twitching, "Harry, do you really have to ask? Who would find a Ministry trial too fascinating to resist?"

Harry tried to hold back a snort of laughter. "Hermy, of course."

"Right, apparently she convinced Dumbledore that it was a most fascinating learning experience," he said with a slight grin.

"And the other young lady seems to be not so much fascinated by the thought of the trial, but wanted to be on hand...er...I suppose as some hidden support. She seemed to be under the impression that you needed looking after, and seems to think she's the right one for the job." Remus couldn't help but tease Harry, as much to lessen his nerves, as to try and help getting through to him that he wasn't alone in all this.

Harry grinned, then blushed slightly, but remained quiet. 'Ginny being there is a comforting idea, as long as she remains hidden, that is.'

After a moment Remus continued, "Well to be honest, I'm sure you'll recognize more than one face in the assembly. You know that almost no one in the order is going to miss it, especially the ones at the Ministry already."

"Yeah, I figured," he sighed. "I just hope everyone remembers what I said."

"I told the ones who weren't here your wishes."

Harry nodded, and muttered "Thanks."

At the appropriate time Harry entered the living room fireplace calling out, "Ministry of Magic, visitors entrance." For the first time using the Floo network, there was a pause before he began to spin. For a moment Harry thought of exiting the fire and trying again.

Before he did Remus called out, "There's probably a queue at the other..."

Harry lost the end of the sentence as he began to spin faster and faster. He quickly tucked in his elbows and brought a hand up to keep his glasses in place. After nearly a minute he arrived with a jolt. Luckily he caught himself before making a fool of himself in the Ministry. Grasping Dumbledore's staff in his left hand he made his way out of the gilded fireplace and moved out of the way of other Floo travelers. After a dozen steps or so he paused, looking around for Professor Dumbledore.

It was at this time he began to feel all eyes in the room fixing on him. Simultaneously the hall began to grow quieter. This quiet lasted only minutes, then the room was filled with whispers and murmuring, Harry heard his name mentioned several times and more than once in an awed voice. But he was prepared for this. He had decided already that he wasn't going to hang his head anymore; he wasn't going to hide anymore. With that thought firmed in his mind, with his head held high, he walked as confidently as he could to the guard at the desk. He ignored the eyes following his path, concentrating on the dull thud of his staff at every step. As he reached the queue at the security wizard's desk, he looked around the hall. He noticed that the fountain of 'Magical Brethren' had not been replaced yet. The pool stood empty, and Harry fought against the memories that were flooding into his mind. After several moments he stood at the head of the line. Eric the security wizard from his last visit was there again. Without looking up he said "Name, and nature of the visit to the Ministry." His voice sounded sleepy and bored.

"Harry Potter" he said in a strong voice, "I'm here for the Death Eater trial."

"What...Oh...Er...Excuse me, Mr. Potter?" Eric stood up straight now, and gave Harry a deep bow.

Harry, clutching his walking stick only managed a slight one, but he guessed it was polite enough, as Eric's face lit up.

"Ah yes sir, the hearing is down in courtroom nine."

He nodded, "Thank you Eric, I know where it is."

The security wizard's face glowed with pride when Harry used his name. "Someone should be here to escort you down sir; actually she's late already..."

"No problem at all, I'll just wait here, shall I?"

Before Eric could answer a familiar female voice called, "Harry..."

Harry's face showed a shocked smile, but before he could answer, Eric said indignantly, "Miss Johnson, you should know by now to show the proper respect for important visitors here!"

Angelina stopped open mouthed in front of them, seeming at a loss as to how to respond to that.

Harry jumped in then, patting the wizard on the arm, "It's alright Eric; Angelina and I are old friends."

"Oh, oh, yes, Mr. Potter, I apologize for the mix-up." Eric looked a bit embarrassed now.

Harry gave him a small smile and said, "Thank you for all your help Eric, I should head down to the hearing now."

"Of course Mr. Potter, thank you sir." Eric bowed deeply again, and received his short one again.

Harry quickly took Angelina's arm and they continued down the hall to the lifts.

"Harry, you really had some effect on Eric. I've never even seen him bow like that, even to the minister." She chuckled, "Is it like that everywhere you go?" She meant it as a joke.

He sighed slightly and said, "Yeah, pretty much."

Her head snapped around to look at him, "You're not serious."

"Unfortunately I am, and it gets worse every year." He sighed again. "It's more than a bit annoying, I can tell you."

"My parents are Muggles, you know. I heard from the other kids at school about you, and read some books that had your name in it, but I had no idea...." She sounded uncomfortable.

Angelina got a good look at him by now and said, "Harry, you look terrible."

He had to laugh. "You know I've been hearing that a lot lately. I'm going to start to get a complex."

She laughed nervously, "Harry I didn't mean..."

Harry cut her off, with a sad smile, "I know you didn't. It's ok, really." He squeezed her arm reassuringly. "It's great to see you by the way, I didn't know you were working at the Ministry. I'd have figured you would be off shooting quaffles somewhere."

By this time they entered an empty lift, which started to descend immediately.

"I thought about it. I had a couple of offers to be a reserve chaser, but I figured with all the trouble brewing again" she gave Harry a sideways look, the look said plainly, who I'm telling this too, "I said to myself, it's time to grow up," she continued. "I can't really complain though, being a clerk for the Wizengamot is very interesting. I have to admit this is the first major trial for me and I'm terribly excited." She shot Harry a horrified look.

"Harry I'm sorry, that must've sounded terrible, me being all excited at something that you had to fight for your life to survive."

He said, in a kind voice, "Come now Angelina, we're old friends. If you don't stop your apologizing right now, and if you start treating me like everyone else around here does I may have to hex you." He ended with a smile.

He got a relieved one in return. "Now that we're still alone in this lift, how about giving an old friend a proper hello?" Harry opened his arms and gave her a friendly hug and received a soft kiss on the cheek.

"Now that's better," he said as the lift doors opened.

They continued down the hall arm in arm, staff thudding with their steps, till they reached the steps leading down to the lowest level, and the courtroom in question.

By the time they reached the bottom, Harry was winded; he was clutching the staff with both hand and leaning heavily against the wall.

"God, Harry, I didn't realize how hurt you are. Should I get someone to help you?"

Harry shook his head without looking up. After a minute he said, "I'll be alright in a second, just have to catch my breath."

She led him past the courtroom door he knew, passing countless doors, as they made there way around the hall to another door. "This is the observation lounge," she leaned in and whispered. "Ginny and Hermione are in another, on the opposite side."

Harry nodded.

"So you just wait in here till they call you. Take care of yourself, Harry, I'll see you soon." She left him with soft hug.

"Bye, Angelina."

He entered the observation room, the wall opposite the door held a window of impressive size. Beyond it he saw an almost full room courtroom, with the exceptions of the benches for the Wizengamot, which were still empty, as was the chair that usually held the accused.

He took a look around the room; there was a plain wooden table, which held a tea set and a pitcher of iced water, surrounded by several chairs. The only other door led to a small washroom.

Harry took the chair facing the observation window, and fixed himself a cup of sweet tea, glad to be off his feet after the trip down the stairs.

'I don't remember any mirrors in that courtroom,' he thought to himself suddenly. 'It would have to be right where the prisoners enter the courtroom.'

"Hmm," he said, thinking to look when it was his turn to go into the court. He started to scan the raised seating of the audience for familiar faces.

It really didn't take long. Almost immediately he saw Rita Skeeter sitting in the front row, Quick Quotes Quill at the ready. A few rows behind and to the left he saw Remus and Professor McGonagall. Another section had velvet ropes around it, and he saw Tonks, Kingsley and Moody sitting together, and Dawlish was a few seats away. So that had to be the Aurors section. People to the extreme right of the window weren't able to be seen through the window. But to the opposite side, way up high, Harry thought he spotted a rather large, rather hairy familiar form. Harry couldn't help it, he smiled.

Behind the raised dais of the judges was a small battered desk. There sat Percy Weasley. Harry's anger rose a bit. He supposed that since Dumbledore was reinstated as the Head of the Wizengamot he would be sitting with Fudge and Bones. So Percy was demoted to sitting behind them, less important during an important trail. The first of many of the trials that would be coming.

At that moment, a pair of doors opened behind the benches. Madam Bones, head of Magical Law Enforcement, entered through one door, followed by Minister Fudge. Through the other, were the members of the Wizengamot lead by Dumbledore, and ended by (to Harry's shock) a goblin. Goblins weren't generally involved in wizarding government. He had to remember to ask Dumbledore or, if he didn't have the chance, Remus about it. All were dressed in dark purple robes with the silver W embroidered on the breast.

Once all were settled a door opened to the left of the mirror, and entered a witch and wizard, wands drawn, and four security trolls, surrounding a man who seemed to be in his mid twenties, with close cropped brown hair and jet black eyes. He was led to the witness chair, his manner light and confident, but changed for a moment when the chains on the chair bound him tightly.

Harry's attention left the Death Eater when he heard Professor Dumbledore's voice. "The accused now being present, we will begin the criminal trial of Mr. Gregory Thorpe. Miss Johnson, please read out the charges."

Angelina Johnson stood up. She looked rather nervous, but spoke in a strong clear voice, "The accused is being charged with the attack and the attempted murder of Harry James Potter." After a breath she continued, "He is further charged with being a Death Eater and with colluding with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Immediately mutters erupted from the hall, when another voice spoke up angrily, "I object to calling my client a Death Eater. He has a clean record and comes from a fine old family; there has obviously been a huge misunderstanding."

Harry finally located the man, but couldn't get a clear view of him.

"And you are?" Dumbledore said. All muttering stopped when he spoke.

"I am Igor La Roche; I am the Thorpe Family advocate." The voice now was pompous.

Madam Bones said icily, "You should know by now, Mr. La Roche, that your objections should wait until after the interrogators are introduced, and I warn you now, I've heard of your reputation. None of your usual grandstanding will be tolerated in this courtroom."

"Madam Bones, I strongly object. . ." La Roche said angrily.

Dumbledore spoke up now in a level voice, "Enough, Mr. La Roche."

For the next hour he heard Gregory Thorpe's story, interrupted every so often with questions from Bones, Dumbledore, and Fudge, with La Roche adding comments at what seemed to be planned intervals. He told a fascinating story of him meeting a couple of unknown wizards and a Muggle teenager, completely by accident, one day while strolling through a park. According to this story Harry strolled up and started throwing jinxes and hexes. When asked why he was wearing a mask and long black cloak on a warm summer evening...

"Uh, Potter must've put the mask on me while I was knocked out."

If Harry wasn't so angry at these lies, he would have heard the scoffs and angry muttering of the wizards in attendance.

After several more minutes of questioning, Madam Bones spoke up. "Well, then Mr. Thorne, I'm sure you gave an accurate account of the events." Her voice left little doubt that she didn't believe a word. "We will get another point of view. I ask Harry James Potter to come forward and give testimony."

At these words a door formed in the middle of the window Harry was looking through. He stood slowly, taking a couple of deep breaths to master himself. He thought of Ginny secretly watching him, and then walked determinately through the door, to face one of his attackers.

Harry walked with his head held high and tried to walk as normally as possible, ignoring the muttering his injuries seemed to inspire. When he reached a spot before the assembly of the Wizengamot, he stopped and bowed as deeply as his ribs would allow.

"Good day Madam Bones, Minister, Professor Dumbledore," he said respectfully.

Dumbledore responded first. He gave Harry a very serious look. "Good day Harry, I am pleased to see you, although I would've liked to see you in better physical condition."

"Are you sure you are able to handle this right now, Mr. Potter?" Madam Bones asked in a concerned voice.

"Thank you for your concern, Madam Bones," he said, with a bow of thanks. "I've treated my wounds, and I'm mending nicely. I'm sure I look a lot worse then I feel."

"You look terrible, Harry," she said in a low voice.

"Oh, then I feel exactly how I look." He tried to smile, but it was a feeble joke.

"Harry, I will escort you myself to St. Mungo's after the hearing. We will get you set right." Dumbledore said kindly.

Harry bowed his head politely.

It was the Minister's voice that came next. "Very well Mr. Potter, er, Harry, please take a seat and we will continue."

Angelina came forward, and led him to a chair at the far end of the benches, just below the raised seats of the judges. She took his staff, gave him an encouraging smile and returned to her seat at the end of the row.

Harry sat with his legs crossed, elbows on the armrests, fingers tented in front of him. If he could have seen himself he would have seen a confident young wizard, sitting across from his peers. He might have thought he looked a lot like Dumbledore, even if he felt like a first year facing his irate head of house.

After a moment Fudge spoke up "Please, Mr. Potter, will you tell us what happened on the day in question?"

So for the next half an hour Harry spoke first of the owl he received, then of the events of the battle, excluding only his rants and his uncle and cousin's involvement. La Roche tried to object several times, but was cut off repeatedly by Bones and Dumbledore.

Without realizing it Harry spoke with confidence, his presence commanding, but never bragging. By the time he was done, he had impressed most of the wizards in attendance, and had all but convinced the Wizengamot as to the truth of his story.

"Very well, Mr. Potter" said Madam Bones. "We will continue now with the questioning."

"One moment, Amelia," Dumbledore said to her. "Harry has left out some parts of the story, I'm sure it was a simple oversight, but we should have the whole story before we continue."

At these words mumbling raced across the assembly. Harry met Dumbledore's gaze, and held it for long moments, before he shook his head softly and said, "I should know by now not to keep anything from you sir."

"Yes, you should, Harry." His voice was stern, but his eyes were twinkling.

Harry turned to the rest of the Wizengamot he bowed his head, "I apologize for trying to cover up for my own stupidity."

Madam Bones spoke now. "Mr. Potter, this is a serious matter, tell us the bits that are missing, and please explain your reasons for this deception."

Harry nodded solemnly, and said in a clear voice after a small sigh, "The part I left out really has nothing to do with this trial. I left it out because..." he trailed off.

After a moment, he continued, "As I said, I didn't mean to deceive anyone, but I will admit I made more than one foolish mistake on the day in question."

This statement was greeted with silence. He took a deep breath and started, "If I was thinking clearly I would have realized when I got the letter it was more of a trap than I'd known."

The assembly gave him their full attention, "I suppose it starts out with the day my parents were killed. Professor Dumbledore was left responsible for my safety, for he feared reprisals aimed at me from Death Eaters still at large. His decision was to leave me with my mum's sister."

"The reason for this was an ancient and extremely powerful protection spell."

The hall was silent, listening raptly to his words, "It is called the bond of blood...basically since my mother died protecting me, her sister's blood could protect me, and the rest of her blood relatives."

"If I was thinking clearly I would have realized that the Death Eaters couldn't have touched my cousin, since as he's a blood relative, he was as protected as I was from Dark wizards."

"But I don't understand, Mr. Potter," said Bones in a soft voice.

Harry looked down for the first time, and said again, in that shamed voice, "The only way to get around the bond of blood is betrayal by the blood."

Angry muttering filled the hall. After a moment Madam Bones said in a sympathetic voice, "I think we understand Harry, but why didn't you tell us the full story?"

Harry looked her straight in the eye and said, "My aunt and uncle hate magic, she hated my mother for being a witch, she hates everything about us. Even so, she took me in when I had nowhere else to go. They never treated me well or cared all that much about me, but they gave me a place to live, where I was protected."

After a moment he continued, "The only reason I kept that bit quiet was the fact that some of my friends would take offense at this and might want to retaliate in my name." He glanced at where Hagrid was sitting before continuing, "I figured I owe my aunt at least that much protection, after all she took me in when I was one year old and she knew nothing of the plot."

Harry felt all eyes on him, he felt the audience's sympathy towards him and anger directed at his family.

La Roche was the first to respond and he did it a cold, mocking tone. "Well Mr. Potter, that is an interesting little fairytale, but your obvious omissions prove that your story is a total fabrication. Your reputation for stories, I should say, is legendary by now."

Harry was about to speak when he saw La Roche's eyes widen as if a thought had occurred to him. He continued, "Furthermore, I intend to prove that Harry Potter used dark magic in his assault of my client and the other wizards in attendance that day."

Gasps and renewed muttered filled the hall, Harry didn't hear it, he was barely containing the rage boiling up inside him. He tried to keep control, but when he spoke it was still in an angry voice, "Well, Mr. La Roche, how do you intend to prove that statement?"

Dumbledore spoke now, "Harry, these are serious charges. Since you are still an underage wizard, it is your right to have this courtroom cleared and have this discussed more privately."

Harry answered almost immediately after thinking, 'If I clear this courtroom most people will think it's a cover-up. No, this has to be settled.'

"No professor, everyone can stay, I have nothing to hide." Both Dumbledore and Madam Bones beamed at him. Obviously they agreed with what he thought.

"Then we may continue."

"Yes, Professor. Mr. La Roche had the gall to accuse me of using dark magic. I'm curious as to how he will prove it." Harry's tone held a bit of mockery in it.

"That's very simple, Potter: my client witnessed it."

"Really," he replied in a level, somewhat curious voice. "Was this Dark magic used before or after I caught him with the tree?"

"Both!" cried out the man in the chained chair. It was the first time he had spoken since Harry had entered, and he was glad to hear a bit of desperation in the voice.

Harry was seething--how dare they accuse him--but he refused to show it. He didn't want to wait for help from the Wizengamot. His voice was level, but his eyes were blazing, as he said, "Really...I'm curious. You see, I was watching from the observation room, and you said in your earlier statement that you were unconscious the whole time. That's how I must've gotten the cloak and mask on you. That is what he said, wasn't it?" He aimed this question at the Wizengamot.

He received nods from most of the witches and wizards, but no other assistance. He was glad of this, he felt that this meant that he should continue on his own. He waited a moment before he returned his gaze back to La Roche and Thorpe, who both looked angry, and, in Thorpe's case, also desperate.

"If I recall correctly, you saw but two spells from me before you were taken out of the duel," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Which spells were they...er...Harry?" This was Fudge, who was treating him with kid gloves since there last meeting three days ago.

"A shield and a dis-Apparation jinx, sir," he said respectfully.

"A dis-Apparation jinx, Harry? All spells in that category are very advanced magic. Well, you already have proved you are a powerful young man." This was Bones.

Harry, not knowing what to say, bowed his head politely.

"Ha!" yelled Thorpe. "Nice how you glossed over the shield--that was no ordinary shield charm! It had to be dark magic, it took a direct attack by three Death Eaters and you came away from the first wave without a scratch."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle, which brought on La Roche's angry voice, in an attempt to cover up what his client said: "How dare you, Mr. Potter, laugh, when serious charges are brought against you?"

Harry's eyes locked onto those of La Roche. "Perhaps you are right sir," he said sneeringly. "Forgive me for not taking the accusations of someone who just named himself a Death Eater too seriously."

He turned to the benches of the Wizengamot and bowed. "Please forgive my rudeness."

This apology was largely drowned out by the uproar of the crowd when they realized Thorpe's inadvertent confession.

La Roche looked livid, Thorpe was staring at Harry with murder in his eyes, and the crowd at large looked from disbelieving to astonished.

After a moment, Dumbledore's thundering voice cut through the noise, "Silence."

Silence was immediate. He continued, "Mr. La Roche, do you wish to continue these accusations against Mr. Potter now that your client has most conveniently implicated himself?"

La Roche gave Harry a hateful look and said, "May I have a moment to discuss this with my client?"

Dumbledore nodded.

It looked as if La Roche wanted to continue to accuse Harry of Dark arts. Perhaps he was a Death Eater or sympathizer himself, and if he was able to get Harry into enough trouble, it would score him some points with Voldemort. He struggled as he had all summer, to think things through, and the more he thought about it though, he came up with another possibility, perhaps getting his client a lesser charge, yes...he had seen Death Eaters making deals to get out of trouble in Dumbledore's Pensieve.

"My client tells me that he lost consciousness when he was first captured, but says that he was awake for most of the battle. Your Honors, he will list the dark spells this boy cast. I hope you take that into consideration when sentencing time comes."

"We shall see, Mr. La Roche," Dumbledore said in a cold voice. "Harry, the first spell you are accused of is some type of dark magic shield."

"That's right, sir, Mr. Dumbledore, sir, it was an invisible shield that stood up to three hard curses at once," Gregory Thorpe said, all self confidence gone now; it seemed he was trying to weasel out of a hard lesson.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, "what can you tell us of this shield? Is it true that it held against three curses simultaneously, and it is also true that it wasn't visible and you came away unscathed? It is not magic I'm immediately familiar with."

"Sir, it is true I was unhurt by the first barrage of spells. The spell is a derivative of the Protego shield charm."

"Mr. Potter," a wizard halfway down the top row of the Wizengamot spoke up. "The Protego shield charm has no derivatives that I am aware of."

"Harry, this is Giles Northridge, elder of the Wizengamot and head of the Department of Experimental Charms," said Fudge in an emotionless voice. It was curious how hard he was trying to take no side.

Harry bowed his head to Northridge and said, "Well sir, it's my own design. . . uh, a work in progress is what I mean, sir."

This wizard's face went from neutral to excited. "Really Mr. Potter, your own design you say? Well that's most interesting, oh, we must find time to discuss this. . ." Harry was unsure of what to say, so he settled on another small bow.

Mr. La Roche said in a sneering voice, "How very convenient, sir. Now, how do we prove that it's your own work, and not some Dark Arts you trained?"

Anger was trying to push up to the surface again. A dozen hexes came to mind, each worse then the last. Harry valiantly fought the urges back when he said in a respectful voice to Dumbledore, "Sir, the only proof I can give is my spell models. I really didn't want to share them yet..."

"Perfectly understandable, Harry. You'll find as you get older that most witches and wizards do not like other people's noses in their work," Dumbledore said with a smile in his voice.

Harry made a quick decision--he wanted this done as soon as possible, without leaving anything for the reporters to speculate about. "Sir, if it's really an issue, I would show you and Mr. Northridge my spell models. I mean, if it will clear this matter up."

From the corner of his eye Harry saw approving nods from the judges. Harry took a deep breath. 'Ok, right decision' he thought.

"Thank you, Harry." It was Madam Bones who answered. She gave him a straightforward nod of approval. "If it becomes an issue, two experts will be able to confirm it. Though unless we get some real evidence of Dark Arts, we will not invade your privacy."

Harry bowed to her and waited for the next accusation.

Fudge spoke up now. "Mr. Thorpe, please tell us the rest of these so-called Dark spells."

It seemed that Harry was doing well, considering this was the first time Fudge's voice sounded hard, and towards the guilty for a change.

"Well, Minister, let me see, there was a couple of spells that exploded right in front of him," indicating with his head towards Harry. "I didn't know what their effects to us were," Thorpe answered in a shaky voice

Harry blushed a bit, though with his bruised face it was hard to tell. "Uh, sirs--a couple of spells I tried weren't all that successful, sort of backfired on me." His voice thoroughly embarrassed.

Harry heard soft chuckles from the assembly, and his Headmasters light voice: "It has happened to the best of us. Might I ask what you were attempting to conjure?"

Harry's face went hard. He thought back to that day--it was one of the times he was almost killed. "Actually sir, one of the spells was the reason for my work on my on my own shield spell. In common tongue it's called the Red Shield. My trouble mastering it led to my work."

"How long were you training the spell, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"I only had a couple of weeks of work in, mixed in with my other studies."

Dumbledore nodded. "It is a most difficult and powerful spell, Harry. I understand why you had problems with it."

"And the other spell, Harry?" asked Fudge in a kind voice.

'Yes, he's definitely trying to get on my good side,' Harry thought before answering. "The Tridents of Neptune." He received blank looks from all sides now.

Professor Dumbledore spoke now. "Before we pick every spell apart, were there any others, Mr. Thorpe?"

Harry's quick answers must have had a disheartening effect on Thorpe, because when he spoke next his voice was dejected and forlorn. "There were these bolts of lightning that went all over the place."

"The Fury of Zeus," Harry said, then in a lower but still audible voice, "Not that it did me any good, missed completely."

"Uh, there were these bolts of black fire...."

"The Spears of Mars."

Gregory Thorpe sounded absolutely miserable now. "He threw a hammer of air, threw one of the others twenty-five or thirty feet."

'The Hammer of Thor,' he thought to himself. 'Only half as effective as it should have been.'

When Thorpe said nothing, Dumbledore spoke again. "Was there anything else, Mr. Thorpe?"

After a few moments, Thorpe said in relief, "Oh, yes, I almost forgot--he threw a ball of bright red fire from his open hand."

Gasps and muttering renewed at the news of wandless magic, even more so at that it was duel-worthy wandless magic.

Harry looked over to Dumbledore, Fudge, and Bones, and said, "I'm sorry, but the spell has no name that I know of. I have my own name for it but there was no official title." Harry continued, "I was able to acquire some copies of some very old and rare texts, and that's where I learned it from."

"You see?" roared La Roche. "This foolish boy finds some black arts in some book and then conveniently forgets what it's called to avoid repercussions."

"Tell me, boy, how do you know that this spell isn't part of the dark arts?" La Roche said in a scathing voice.

Harry answered icily, his eyes blazing. "First of all, my name is Harry Potter, not boy, and you will address me as Mr. Potter. Second of all, you have the gall to accuse me of Dark Arts when your own client is an admitted Death Eater." After a quick moment's thought Harry knew what he wanted to say. "You seem awfully anxious to prove me guilty, even though it has no bearing on the outcome of your own case. I have to wonder, though, if your motivations come from a different source."

"What rubbish are you talking about?" replied La Roche in an odd sort of nervous voice.

"Well, Mr. La Roche, since you have nothing to gain personally for prosecuting me, my own conclusion would be that either you are a sympathizer or a member...."

The only sound was the scratching of the reporters' quills. La Roche began to sputter indignantly. "How DARE...."

Harry heard a recognizable soft chuckle from the three prosecutors. But his eyes never left the advocates.

Harry cut him off. With an evil grin he said, "Might I have a look at your left forearm, sir?"

La Roche froze where he stood. Eyes going slightly wide, he spoke in a deadly voice: "Now see here boy, er, Mr. Potter, how very nice of you to try to throw suspicion off of yourself. But we were talking about you using Dark Arts against other wizards."

Harry glanced up at the section of Aurors and saw Moody nodding approvingly, as well as several others looking hard at La Roche.

Harry had had enough, though; he spoke up in a loud commanding voice. "You dare accuse Merlin himself of creating dark magic?"

La Roche looked like he had been slapped in the face, but Dumbledore spoke first. "Harry, you mean to say that this magic, this ball of fire, was the work of Merlin?"

Harry replied respectfully. "Yes, sir, I call it Merlin's Fire. As I said I was able to acquire some copies of some of his work. A very small portion, though quite fascinating. I think it could take me a year just to get through the dozen or so parchments I have. And years more, I think, to comprehend it all."

Excited murmuring raced through the entire hall.

It was Mr. Northridge who spoke next. "Mr. Potter, now I mean no disrespect, but the Ministry has most of Merlin's collective works, and they are protected by his own spells so that they cannot be read by anyone but himself. Are you saying that your copies are easily read?" His voice was excited, but he tried hard to keep it level.

"No, sirs, not at all. The spells placed on each page are somehow transferred from the old parchment to the new. From what I've seen, each paged is layered with spells, and you have to get the right combination of counter-curses to able to read them. Oh, and each page seems to have a different spell sequence."

"Very good, Mr. Potter," Giles Northridge smiled at him. "Only someone who has tried to work with these pages would know about that. But I must say, I'm astounded that you were able to break through even one of these pages. We here at the Ministry have been trying for years, and we have only unsealed a handful. I wonder, Mr. Potter, if you would be agreeable in the future for a meeting, say at Hogwarts, so I can we can discuss this fully."

"It would be an honor, Mr. Northridge, but not to give you false hope at seeing these pages sir. Not that I'm unwilling to share my findings." Harry saw the disappointed face looking at him. "You see sir, from what I've learned so far in my limited work, Merlin somehow constructed the spelled pages to react differently to each witch or wizard that tried to unlock them. I tried to copy the unsealed text, but was unable to; it seems that the spells are protected against that also. I had hoped to discuss it with professor Dumbledore when we had the chance."

"Giles, Harry, I must agree that this is a most interesting discussion, one to which I would be very interested in discussing fully, but we must finish with the business of the day."

Harry blushed slightly and said, "Of course, Professor, lately I seem to get easily caught up in my work."

He got a twinkle-eyed smile in return. Dumbledore continued, "Most understandable, Harry, you'll find that most of the wizards up here find it the same way." Harry smiled in return. "But we have the matter of these other spells to contend with."

"Yes, sir."

"Now I personally don't have any knowledge of these spells you named. Could you give up a little information on them?" He looked over to the rest of the Wizengamot. "Unless one of my esteemed colleagues has some knowledge of them."

There was a moment of silence. "I know the spells, Albus." This came from a very old wizard, who at first glance seemed to show the same vitality as Dumbledore, but minus the long hair and beard.

"Ah...Harry this is Colin Thatcher, Wizengamot Elder, Historian and former head of the Aurors."

Harry bowed to the man. "It's an honor, sir. I've read your book, I found it very interesting and most informative."

Thatcher chuckled. "You are one of the few Harry, but it seems my book coincides nicely with the spells I heard about today."

"What do you mean, Colin?" Fudge asked politely.

"Mr. Potter here has been studying the ancient Aurors. He used no Dark magic that I have heard...no, quite the opposite." His eyes turned back to Harry. "Ancient and powerful magic, Mr. Potter, not many people even remember it now, and even less attempt to use magic that powerful. Though I can see why you would choose this course of study, you have my respect."

Harry bowed as deeply as he could, as Thatcher continued, "You must have had people collecting books for you, Mr. Potter. From what I've heard so far, you would have a rather interesting collection. I wonder though, if you found all that you were looking for?"

Harry looked him straight in the eye and said, "No sir, some witches and wizards were unwilling to give up their books at any price. But I will continue to search."

Thatcher's eyes never left his, but he gave Harry an almost imperceptible nod.

After a moment Dumbledore said towards the Wizengamot, "I assume this concludes the inquiry into Mr. Potter alleged Dark Magic use. If there are no other objections I will dismiss him now."

"I'd like to ask Mr. Potter a question, if I might, Albus."

To Harry's surprise it was the only goblin member of the Wizengamot.

Dumbledore nodded politely and said, "Harry, this is Antak Hilldern, elder of the Goblin High Government and the newest member of the Wizengamot."

Harry turned his gaze to the goblin, bowed twice very quickly and said in perfect Gobbledygook the proper greeting to a goblin of his standing: "Greetings honored elder, may your days bring you fortune, and your nights bring you peace." Harry was unsure of his accent, as this was after all the first time he had spoken the goblin language out loud.

Antak's yellow eyes opened wide with surprise for a moment, as did most of the Wizengomot's that Harry could see, but the goblin quickly recovered and replied in kind, "May your days find you peace and your nights find you victory, young wizard." And he gave Harry the single bow that was the polite response.

Harry smiled inwardly, but showed no outward sign that he was pleased. The reply he received was a great compliment from goblin to wizard, and he didn't want to mess up now.

Antak spoke in English now. "Mr. Potter, from what I've heard today, you've been training yourself for battle."

Harry nodded, but said nothing, waiting for the goblin's next statement. His eyes never left Antak's.

"It seems to me that you expected this attack, or something like it. May I ask why that is, Mr. Potter?"

Harry was silent for a minute, carefully choosing his words. "I had hoped that I would have more time to prepare for my next encounter with the Death Eaters, but yes, I did know they would come for me sooner or later, sir."

He paused again and then continued, "There are many reasons for them wanting me out of the way. I suppose the first reason would be the attack when I was a year old, ruining all their plans. Not to mention this habit I have that simply infuriates Voldemort."

Gasps raced across the assembly at the Dark Lord's name.

"May I ask what that habit is, Mr. Potter?" Hilldern's voice had a hint of curiosity in it.

"Oh, I have a habit of figuring out his plans and putting my foot in it. That and the fact that I keep escaping him really annoys him." Harry completed this with a humorless chuckle. "And I guess what I told Bellatrix the first time I met her is as good reason as any for the attack a couple of days ago."

"Harry," Dumbledore said curiously, "what did you say to her?"

"What? Oh, I told her that Voldemort is a half blood. She didn't take too well to me saying that."

The whole of the Wizengamot was staring open-mouthed at him.

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "Seemed like a good idea at the time...got her so angry she made a mistake...."

After several moments of shocked silence throughout the courtroom, Albus Dumbledore spoke again. "Harry, you and I need to have a long talk one of these days." He sighed and said, "If there are no other questions for Harry, I will excuse him."

He received nods from most members. "Harry, on behalf of the Wizengamot, thank you for your time and patience with the false accusations. If you will, please return to the observation room. We will take a short recess before the sentencing, and then I shall escort you to St. Mungo's." He looked over to Angelina. "Ms. Johnson, would you please escort Mr. Potter?"

In the time it took Angelina to walk over to him, Harry had managed to get to his feet. He tried to look graceful in front of the assembly, but merely achieved in not looking like a total cripple. Angelina passed him the staff, and Harry first bowed to Bones, Dumbledore, and Fudge, then to the rest of the Wizengamot, and hobbled out of the courtroom, Angelina at his side.

His nerves had been keeping his mind and body up, but as they walked across to the door to the observation chamber it seemed like a great weight had grown atop his shoulders. As they reached it, Harry was barely able to shuffle through. He made it to the chair only with Angelina's help. He plopped down, and began to shiver--exhaustion, nerves, and grief taking their long overdue toll on him. Angelina, noticing his state, quickly tapped the teapot with her wand. Steam again rose from the spout. She fixed him a cup, and took the chair next to him.

"You alright Harry?" she asked with concern.

"Yeah, just tired, didn't realize how much this can take out of you." Exhaustion was evident in his voice. "Not to mention putting it on top of the past few days."

He gave her a small smile and said, "I think after St. Mungo's, I'll sleep for a couple of days."

As Harry sipped his tea she said with a smile and a bit of awe, "I must tell you, you were brilliant out there. You really were. You impressed a lot of people today. I think if it was me I'd be too nervous to speak, and when that bastard accused you of using Dark magic..."

"Yeah, I think the Aurors should take a hard look into this La Roche, something very, uh, slimy about that man."

"Did you really tell Bellatrix Lestrange that Vo...Vo...that he is a half blood?"

"Yeah, like I said it was a good idea at the time. You can ask Hermione or Ginny for details if you like, they were both there. I'm sorry, just not up to telling the story right now."

She nodded and thankfully didn't ask him any more.

They sat in silence for some time, sipping tea, watching for the return of the Wizengamot. When they returned Angelina jumped up and hurried out of the door.

Dumbledore passed out the sentence of the confirmed Death Eater, which was ten to fifteen years in Azkaban.

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about it. After a few moments he found he didn't care all that much. There were only three he really cared about, three he wanted dead. The rest...let the Ministry deal with the rest. One was his job, and the other two...a debt had to be paid....

After a short while, everyone began to leave the courtroom. The reporters were the last, trying to get interviews with the members of the Wizengamot. Shortly after that, Harry saw Dumbledore and Madam Bones walking over to the door. His Headmaster held it open for Madam Bones and followed her into the room.

Harry was struggling to his feet as she entered. She tried to stop him, but he hoped to get to the hospital, and then to his bed as quickly as possible.

The head of Magical Law Enforcement spoke first; she gave him a kind, friendly smile and said, "Harry, I want you to know that you showed a lot of people something in that courtroom today. With things beginning anew, as they did before you were born, we will need more young people like you." Harry was unsure what to say. He didn't think he did all that much in the courtroom, but gave her a polite bow of thanks.

She continued, "Albus told me about your hiding out on your own, and I must say I'm none too pleased with the idea, but he told me your reasons, and I do understand and you have my respect. To make it a bit easier on you I have this for you."

She handed over a folded piece of parchment. "This is a full exemption from the underage wizarding laws. We know now that you are a responsible young man, and we know you'll handle this responsibility admirably."

"Thank you, Madam Bones, I don't know how to express my gratitude."

She smiled warmly at him. "Call it payment for the classes you were teaching under that idiot woman Umbridge's nose." She chuckled. "My Susan told me what an excellent teacher you were. And she stands firm that she wouldn't have done nearly as well as she did on her O.W.L.'s, had it not been for you."

Harry blushed. "I...well, she was an excellent student, she nearly had a corporeal Patronus, when the lessons had to stop...." Harry trailed off.

She grinned at him. "I know, she told me, and I feel more confident that she will be able to defend herself should the need arise. Well, enough of this jabbering. Albus, you need to get the boy to St. Mungo's. Harry, it had been a pleasure."

"Mine also, thank you again." He said with a warm smile.

That left Harry and Dumbledore alone in the room. Dumbledore was giving him his usual piercing gaze, which Harry returned, trying to discern his Headmaster's thoughts.

"Harry," he started quietly, "before we head to the hospital I want to tell you how very proud I am of you. Each time I think I couldn't be prouder, you go and outdo yourself." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling for a moment before he continued, "Furthermore, I can say without any doubt, your parents and Sirius would be as well."

Harry averted his eyes at this. He said nothing, waiting for his Headmaster to continue.

"In the troubled times we are entering into we will need all the allies we can gather. Today you made yourself some powerful allies. You showed yourself not only as a powerful young wizard, but as a warrior and a scholar."

Harry did not know what to say to this. His mind was racing. Everyone was praising him, but did he really do all that much today? He wasn't so sure.

After a moment of silence, he continued, with a smile twitching his long beard, "I also suspect will we be receiving many visitors at Hogwarts this year. A great many of my old friends and colleagues will be consulting you, as well as myself, with their work."

Harry showed a small smile that faded quickly. "Sir, everyone is making a big deal about my magical accomplishments; I really didn't do all that much, no where near what I was hoping to accomplish this summer."

Dumbledore chuckled at this as he led Harry from the room. "My dear young wizard, I myself decoded one of Merlin's pages that Giles told you about. It took me nearly a year."

Dumbledore laughed harder at Harry's openmouthed expression, and they headed off to St. Mungo's.