Harry Potter and the Path to Power

Chapter XI

Breakfast passed in silence until it was time to leave.

Harry had barely eaten anything, his thoughts already at the trial.

In a daze he followed the instructions he was given and once again he arrived in the office of Ally Fish's.

Looking at Harry with worry, Ally slowly approached him.

"Are you capable of testifying, Harry?"

"Yes," was the only answer she received.

"Are you sure?"

Still in a world of his own, Harry answered her questions only with yes or no, like an automaton.

With a worried look, Ally opened her chamber doors to let everyone out.

Apparently reporters had found out where her office was because the hallway was filled to capacity.

Immediately the Weasleys formed a circle around Harry, a red wall, while Dumbledore took point and with one glaring look split the mass of reporters to create a path toward the courtroom.

If not for Hermione gently guiding him, Harry would never have found his way to the courtroom, retreated into himself as he was. As it was he didn't hear any of the questions the reporters shouted or the gentle words of encouragement Hermione whispered.

He did not feel her hand on his in a reassuring gesture when they sat in their chairs and he only stood when he was nudged to do so.

He did not even notice Vernon being brought in.

He did not hear anything until those words that stabbed him like a sword were spoken

"The prosecution calls Harry Potter to testify."

Slowly he stood and walked to the chair were he was supposed to sit; that chair in which everyone could see him without obstruction; that chair in which he would be all alone, again.

From that chair he had no choice but to look at Vernon.

The Magistrate intoned: "Do you vow to speak truthfully before this office, to speak no lies and to withhold no truths?"

"I do," Harry replied, making sure he kept his voice level.

"Does the prosecution or the defence feel the necessity of Veritaserum?"

"No, My Lord," Ally replied.

"My Lord, the defence feels that as Mr. Potter's mental state is questionable; Veritaserum would be useless in our opinion.

We would however request you rule this testimony moot on the same grounds."

"My Lord, the prosecution has entered into the record the statements of all those who have been in close contact with Mr. Potter since the incident in question; this includes statements from several doctors and nurses who would have reported anything out of the ordinary because of their medical training.

These statements clearly show that, although there are signs of stress and trauma, there is no instability."

"This office sees no need for Veritaserum and lets the ruling of the legitimacy of this testimony stand for now. Let it be so noted in the records. The prosecution may begin."

"Please state your name and occupation for the record." Ally began.

"Potter, Harry. Hogwart's student, 5^th year."

"Mr. Potter, would you please describe for us the events as they unfolded at Privet Drive."

For the first time, Harry prepared to tell his story while fully conscious and he felt the anger, hate and fear flow into his bloodstream like ice, it came as naturally as breathing. Almost unable to inhale, Harry fought with himself to keep calm.

He would not scream.

He would not lash out.

He would not cry.

Harry was, however, fighting a losing battle. Looking into the eyes of his tormenter, he saw every atrocity, every demeaning gesture in his mind, and he saw in Vernon's eyes that the man knew; knew that Harry was reliving every moment.

He saw that even now Vernon played a game of torture to satisfy his sadistic needs. His uncle was enjoying himself and Harry saw it. Vernon even went as far as to quickly lick his own lips and his eyes expressed pleasure.

To Harry there was no world, there was only Vernon and himself, only him and the man who had hurt him, cut him to the depths of his soul.

"Mr. Potter?" Ally's voice came from far away and was of no consequence to Harry, as fear and anger fought for dominion.

Slowly a golden light appeared in Harry's vision, and with it came tranquillity.

There was no more reason to be upset.

No reason to be afraid.

There was only tranquillity.

Suddenly and without warning Harry started his story.

As there was nothing that could hurt him, there was no reason not to tell.

As there was nothing to be upset about, there was no reason to withhold anything that had been done to him.

For what seemed like hours Harry talked, telling his story.

His voice was that of someone who was looking inward and anyone who heard it was riveted, not only by the story but by the voice as well, a voice that spoke from what seemed like another world.

No one interrupted.

No one dared.

When Harry finally concluded his story by telling about the last thing Vernon had done, touching the wand to the scar on his forehead, the number of dry eyes could be counted on the fingers of one hand; even Ally had a ghost of a tear glistening in her eye even though she had heard the story before from Dumbledore; it was just not the same.

Magistrate Fletcher was dry-eyed but had obviously taken the story to heart, his eyes slightly glazed over.

McDourn, however, quickly composed himself and assumed a facial expression that was intended to show his disbelief.

"I have no further questions, my lord."

Ally was elated and devastated at the same time. She had expected that at best she would have to coax the more gruesome details out of Harry, and at worst, Harry would have a breakdown on the stand.

Harry, however, had told everything, had not left out anything; not those things that were humiliating, not those thing that were extra painful.

She had heard things she hoped she would never hear again in her lifetime.

As she scanned the room to see the reactions, she saw Dumbledore.

The old headmaster was as white as a sheet and noticeably trembling. He looked exhausted but determined to see something through, but what?

Molly Weasley was at his side, supporting him.

McDourn rose from his seat to cross examine Harry.

"Mr. Potter; that was a very touching story.

I'm sure you suffered a lot.

Or have you?

You don't look all the worse for wear to me."

"I..." Harry started to say.

"No, Mr. Potter,' McDourn quickly interrupted, "that was a rhetorical question. You don't have to answer.

Instead I would ask you: if Vernon Dursley tormented you so, why now? Why not earlier?"

Still the golden haze shone before Harry's eyes and his instincts told him he was wrapped up in it.

He calmly told of the letter Vernon had received and answered all the questions asked of him subsequent to the first.

McDourn was clearly trying to undermine Harry's credibility, doing everything in his power to picture him as a petulant schoolboy.

He even went so far as to go back to second year when everyone had thought him Slytherin's heir.

He dragged up third year, what had happened with Sirius. He went so far as to cite a Ministry report stating that in all probability a Confundus class charm had been used on Harry, although his tone implied differently, McDourn was clearly gifted at his profession.

And then he asked about Cedric.

"It was never determined what really happened to Cedric Diggory, Mr. Potter.

What are we to think of that?

You were the only person present at his death. Wouldn't you like to tell us the truth of that day?"

For a moment the golden haze wavered and Harry felt anger seeping into his guts, then it reasserted itself.

"I object, my lord. Councillor McDourn is being suggestive without offering proof," Ally interjected.

"Councillor McDourn, you will either provide proof or stop accusing the witness. I once more remind you, it is your client that is on trial, no one else."

"But my lord, this will show that the witness is not fit to testify. I must be allowed to..."

"Proof, Councillor, proof. I think I have given you more than enough leeway"

"Yes, my lord," McDourn said in a dejected voice.

McDourn made a few more attempts to discredit Harry but couldn't really prove anything and soon stopped, Cedric Diggory had been his prime playing card. The question now was: would it be enough?

"I have no more questions, my lord."

"The witness may step down," Magistrate Fletcher said, in a not unkind voice.

"The prosecution rests, My Lord."

"As this testimony was shorter than expected, the defence may begin its case after lunch."

Slowly Harry and his companions made their way to Ally's office where they had lunch while Dumbledore collapsed on a couch and slept.

*****

After lunch McDourn began.

"The defence calls for Arabella Figg, Unspeakable."

An older woman stepped up to the chair and Harry couldn't believe his eyes.

That was... Mrs. Figg, his babysitter.

The Magistrate intoned: "Do you vow to speak truthfully before this office, to speak no lies and to withhold no truths?"

"I do," the woman replied.

Harry now clearly recognized her as his old babysitter. Her poise and behaviour were completely different however. He remembered her as an easily distracted, cat loving old woman. Here, however, sat a woman of great composure and poise.

"Does the prosecution or the defence feel the necessity of Veritaserum? I wish to remind you that the witness in question is an Unspeakable with a flawless reputation.

"No, My Lord," both Ally and McDourn replied.

"This office sees no need for Veritaserum. The defence may begin."

"Please state your name and occupation for the record," McDourn began, just as Ally had before.

"Figg, Arabella, Unspeakable for the Department of Mysteries. Current assignment: Harry Potter."

"Mrs. Figg, please tell us how you were given this assignment."

"I requested it.

I knew James and Lily.

My family has always been close to House Potter.

When they were killed, I decided that Harry needed someone to guard him from the deluded followers of the Dark Lord; especially my half-brother."

"We have heard testimony of what allegedly happened at Privet Drive.

You were there, observing that house.

Did you notice anything?"

"Nothing, besides that the window was boarded up. However this was not unusual.

It happened before without consequence and I was given no permission to investigate."

"So the Department of Mysteries saw no evidence ill doings in progress?"

"No."

"As an Unspeakable I assume you had several Dark Magic detectors set up.

Did they register anything?"

"No," was the simple answer.

"To be complete, did you notice ANYTHING unusual that could point to the alleged events?"

"No."

"Could you describe the Dursley family, please?"

"From a Muggle point of view they are as normal as they come, upstanding members of the community, good job, and good school.

But..."

"Thank you, no further questions."

"Mrs. Figg," Ally picked up the questioning, "are the detectors you used sensitive enough to pick up the spark of magic an Adept uses?"

"I object my lord. The witness is neither an expert on detectors nor Adepts. She is not qualified to answer," McDourn cried out.

"My Lord, if I may?" Mrs. Figg said before the magistrate could respond. With a wave of his hand he gave her permission to speak.

"As I expected this question, I consulted the experts of my department and I have been granted leave to speak for the Department of Mysteries.

It is our opinion that no detector, no matter how sensitive, would have picked up the magic used by an Adept."

"I will accept that statement from the Department of Mysteries. Let it be so noted," the Magistrate said.

"Did you have much contact with Harry or the Dursleys?" Ally continued her questioning.

"No, I have had no contact with Harry since before his first year at Hogwarts.

I had some infrequent contact with Petunia Dursley, but not in the last month before the incident. The last time I saw her she seemed... distracted and upset."

"Thank you. You may step down."

McDourn sent a look toward Ally that could kill.

"The defence calls for Vernon Dursley."

Vernon looked surprised at this.

The Magistrate intoned: "Do you vow to speak truthfully before this office, to speak no lies and to withhold no truths?" Harry began to understand why he sounded so bored when he said these things. This must be the tenth time he had said something like that in this trial alone.

Apparently Vernon had learnt his lesson but was still scared; he only uttered a weak "Yes."

"As defendant you are exempt from Veritaserum unless sufficient reason is found, but I warn you, one lie and I will make you take it."

Again Vernon spoke in a small voice "Yes."

"Please state your name and occupation for the record," McDourn said in the smooth voice that seemed to be his trademark.

"Vernon Dursley, I'm a managing director for Grunning Drills." Vernon's voice sounded like he wanted to start yelling but was containing himself, Harry observed, but it was well hidden. He had probably been thoroughly coached.

"Please describe your relationship with Harry Potter."

"He's my nephew from my wife's side. We've been raising him from the day his parents died, such brave people they were.

As he was left in our care we did the very best to nurture him, giving him shelter and clothing, giving him the food from our own mouths.

We always tried to raise him proper; we are pious people and tried to teach him the good book.

But he was such a rebellious boy.

Never did what he was told, too lazy to do any chores.

Why, he even blew up my sister once, she was never the same after that, but we wouldn't hear of him going anywhere else."

Vernon definitely sounded coached. Harry had never heard him use this tone of voice before.

He sounded reasonable and compliant.

It was sickening.

"Would you please describe what happened the day your nephew was so brutally taken from your legal custody by Remus Lupin and the events leading up to that day."

"Well it had actually started the day he came home, at the end of his school year.

As a legal guardian should, I picked him up from Kings Cross.

When I asked him how his year had been the only answer I got was that I should 'mind my own bloody business -excuse the language, I'm only repeating what my nephew said.

After that he refused to speak.

I felt that something was wrong and decided to let him be for a while. You know how young people can be at that age; sometimes they just need their privacy.

Later I called him down for dinner but he refused to eat.

Understandably I was worried, but he refused to tell me anything.

You have to understand there was only so much I could do, especially with the condition my wife was in; she's been having some emotional problems, it's been very hard on my family.

Later he even upset my precious son Dudley by saying that Petunia was crazy, the poor boy was very upset.

After that he became even more difficult to handle.

He was rude, he was being a sloth, he bullied Dudley and he threatened us with magic. It was terrible.

He played loud music in his room at all times, day and night.

This was all very upsetting to my wife so I put in some soundproofing for his room.

That is when he started hurting himself. You can understand how shocked I was at this. I tried talking to him, but he refused. He even went so far as to threaten my poor defenceless wife.

When I addressed him on this issue he threatened to call in his Godfather and that the man would kill us. Scared for my life I left Harry alone for a while.

I should never have done that. The poor but obviously disturbed boy did even further damage to himself. As a precaution I had taken his wand and some of his more dangerous looking magical items from him; but I'm just a Muggle, I didn't know what to do about magic. Then he stole back his wand and used it to hurt himself. I tried, I swear I tried but..."

This was too much for Harry. That lying son of a bitch.

The golden haze wavered.

"YOU LYING BASTARD. DON'T YOU DARE DENY WHAT YOU DID..."

"SILENCE! BE SILENT MR. POTTER OR I WILL HAVE YOU REMOVED," the magistrate shouted but was drowned out by Harry's booming voice.

The golden haze trembled.

"...TO ME. YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED AND..."

Harry had lost it, the anger that had been suppressed was now overflowing and the golden haze that had surrounded him was torn to shreds.

Inside of him his magic was once more rushing to the surface, to give form to his anger.

"...I WILL NOT LET YOU LIE ABOUT IT. YOU LOWLIFE..."

In the same row where Harry was standing, Dumbledore had slumped to the ground, his body trembling with effort, convulsing; Molly Weasley beside him, trying to help, but no one else was paying attention, all eyes were turned on Harry.

Harry's voice had now become more than human; it was his anger given form.

"...SCUMBAG. I WILL MAKE SURE YOU NEVER..."

The magistrate was still yelling for Harry to be silent and McDourn was orating that this was exactly why Harry's testimony should be disregarded. Unfortunately, this only infuriated Harry further and a bright white light shone in his eyes.

"... HARM ANOTHER HUMAN BEING. TELL THE TRUTH YOU SON OF A..."

Vernon was enraged.

Instead of scared he was angry.

His nephew, that abnormality that he had so appropriately punished was insulting him.

His skin flushed red from the neck upward as he stood and yelled:

"SHUT UP YOU FREAK.

OR WOULD YOU LIKE SOME MORE OF WHAT I DID TO YOU?

I WILL HAVE YOU PLEADING FOR MERCY, YOU ABOMINATION.

I WILL BREAK EVERY BONE IN YOUR BODY AND FINISH WHAT I STARTED. YOU WILL..."

Harry now felt threatened.

He lashed out in fear and anger.

Suddenly Vernon fell silent as he grasped at his throat; slowly he was lifted off his feet.

The courtroom was as silent as death.

Not only had the accused just confessed, now there was an underage wizard exuding a considerable amount of power.

Without his wand.

Through the silence came only one voice, a voice that seemed to come from across a void to Harry and soothed him.

A voice that was familiar to Harry, it was calm and rational, but full of emotion and compassion at the same time, the strange combination did not surprise him.

"Calm down, Harry," Hermione whispered, her hand gently on the arm that Harry had pointed at Vernon.

"He's confessed; that's enough, isn't it...?

He is not worth going to prison for, you're better than he is"

Slowly Harry turned his head towards her, his eyes full of suffering and doubt, and something more... perhaps a plea for help intermingled with desperation.

"Please Harry, for me?" Hermione's soft voice said.

By now Vernon had turned red and was nudging towards blue. He had scratched open the skin on his throat in a desperate attempt to get a single breath of air.

Harry stared at Hermione as if trying to comprehend what she was saying, his mind so clouded with rage and terror it took time to process her words. She could see the anger wavering in his eyes.

"Please?"

Suddenly Vernon dropped to the floor and he inhaled with a very audible gasp.

In bewilderment Harry turned to him, staring at the man that had caused him so much pain.

"Oh God, what have I done?" he whispered, dropping back into his chair.

Magistrate Fletcher quickly took control of the situation. He ordered with a strong voice: "All be seated, all be seated. This office has heard the confession of Vernon Dursley and will now rule."

With these words everyone took their seats, now more curious than ever as to the ruling and thus not wanting to be thrown out for any reason.

Harry, still staring at Vernon, was being talked to by Hermione and Ron, but neither was being very successful in getting through to him.

"My lord, I object. What we have just heard can not be called a confession. They were words, rashly spoken under great stress. My client was just assaulted by one of the prime witnesses. An act, I might add, which proves my previous point. Harry Potter's testimony can not be accepted." McDourn was speaking so fast that it was obvious he was panicking, a small analytical part of Harry's brain concluded while the rest of him was still recoiling from the horror of his own actions.

"I demand that everything my client said while under duress is stricken from the record. Furthermore, I protest the treatment of my client and I assure you that we will take legal action against Mr. Potter. It is an outrage when an underage wizard is..."

"ORDER. Councillor McDourn, take your seat." McDourn was about to continue protesting but one angry glare from Fletcher convinced him otherwise. In a solemn voice the magistrate continued: "I have reached my verdict.

After hearing the facts and the subsequent confession of Vernon Dursley, I find the accused guilty."

A roar of approval came from the gathered audience. The assembled reporters were furiously writing down every detail they could spot; from the disappointed look on McDourn's face, the shock Vernon emanated, to the complete disinterest of Harry Potter.

Harry had completely withdrawn into his own world, shocked at his own capability for violence.

Deep inside he felt the burning fires of revenge, calling out for more retribution; but he also felt his own disgust at the actions he had taken without a second thought.

Both Hermione and Ron were kneeling beside him, still trying to talk to him.

"Vernon Dursley, I hereby condemn you to life imprisonment in Azkaban.

Although you have preformed no unforgivable curses, your actions, as can be deduced from testimony, are so inhumane, you deserve nothing less. You will be placed in a solitary cell for your own protection, as you are a Muggle, but that is all the leniency I am willing to show."

Magistrate Fletcher extended his hand a grabbed hold of a small sphere, as black as night, placed on his desk and intoned:

"Thus I have ruled, thus shall it come to pass; Life imprisonment at Azkaban."

At those words the entire courtroom was overpowered by a chill that went bone deep.

A silence came over the room.

Several people on the front row suddenly became very pale, not least of all Harry; images started forming in his head, one after another, quickly replacing each other.

"No, please not Harry. Not Harry."

"Kill the spare."

"There is one last thing I want to try."

"Stand aside, you silly girl."

"NOOOO, HARRY!!!!!!"

"AVADA KEDAVRA."

As the images began to overlap, Harry, still slumped in his chair, began to shake.

He was not the only one who was affected; Arthur Weasley was staring at a distant horror only he could see, Arabella Figg had a tear running down her cheek and even Magistrate Fletcher was clearly trying to control himself.

After only a few moments the cause of all this disruption appeared: two Dementors, sucking away every happy thought and emotion.

With an unsteady voice Magistrate Fletcher intoned once more, "Life imprisonment in a solitary cell at Azkaban, thus I have ruled, thus let it be done."

Each of the Dementors placed a hideously decaying hand that appeared from under their black robes on one of Vernon's shoulders.

Vernon was visually suffering from the Dementor's touch, but surprisingly summoned just enough energy to cast one more glare at Harry.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance. Weakling," he spat.

And with that the Dementors disappeared with their newest charge.

"These proceedings are concluded," was the magistrate's final statement before he hastily left.

Immediately press and public surged towards Harry.

"Mr. Potter, are you pleased with this sentence?"

"Harry, now that Vernon Dursley did not get the Dementor's kiss, are you going to seek personal revenge? Will you kill him?"

"Mr. Potter, What exactly did you do to Mr. Dursley? Would you care to comment on the spell you used"

"Did you force him to confess?"

"Did you force him to lie?"

"How did you do it without your wand?"

The reporters kept trying to get closer to Harry, straight through the line of Weasleys that were shielding him and Dumbledore, who was slumped in his chair.

"Mr. Potter, do you think the Ministry will press charges against you, for the violation of the underage magic rules?"

"Mr. Potter, what happened to Professor Dumbledore? Were you the cause?"

"Harry, is it true that Hermione is pregnant with your child?"

"Mr. Potter..."

"Mr. Potter..."

But Harry was still in his own world, he heard none of the questions, did not notice the efforts the Weasleys and Hermione made on his behalf.

Quickly Ally came from behind her desk and helped both Harry and Dumbledore to their feet and then dragged them along towards the back exit.

After they stepped through the door into a secure hallway, Ally turned, drew her wand, and performed a locking spell.

"Wait," Harry said, suddenly coming out of his stunned silence, "Ron and Hermione are still in there and Arthur and..."

"Don't worry, Harry," Ally interrupted. "They can take care of themselves, and besides, the press isn't after them, they're after you."

Although Ally's words made sense, Harry could not help but worry; those reporters had been so aggressive in seeking him out.

Dumbledore was leaning against a wall, his breathing heavy and his eyes unfocused.

"Professor...?" Harry questioned uncertainly.

"Don't worry..." Dumbledore gasped for breath, "...Mr. Potter. I am quite all right, just a little... winded."

But Dumbledore did not seem to be improving.

"Come on, Harry," Ally said while trying to get a grip on Dumbledore, "let's get him to my office so he can sit down.

With Harry and Ally at his sides, leaning heavily on their shoulders, Dumbledore was able to walk.

Via a number of smaller, quiet hallways they made it to Ally's office, where Dumbledore was put on a couch.

Ally hurried to her desk and took out a small vial which contained a brown liquid.

"Drink this Albus, its Pepper-up potion. You'll be right as rain before you know it," Ally said while handing Dumbledore the vial.

With shaking hands the headmaster brought the potion container to his lips and with one gulp consumed its contents.

Steam came out of the ears of the old wizard and a little colour returned to his cheeks.

As the headmaster lay back on the couch, his breath first steadied and then became deeper; he was asleep.