Chapter VII

The morning of the Malfoys' trial, Harry woke early for breakfast. He wasn't nervous in the slightest, but he wasn't pleased about the summons either. The thought of walking into the Ministry only to be ambushed by reporters and photographers was hardly inviting. He could only hope the Ministry had anticipated a press circus and put measures in place to contain it.

Ron and Hermione were already at the table, though they weren't allowed to accompany him to the Wizengamot. Mr. Weasley had explained that the Ministry was unusually strict about who could enter on trial days. Sheraldov had been announced as the new Minister for Magic the previous day, just as Mr. Weasley had predicted. He had also suspected that the heightened security had less to do with safety and more to do with the Ministry's wish to question Harry about Ron and Hermione's involvement in the whole affair.

"Hey guys!" He said as he sat down. His friends greeted him with a nod and a smile.

"How are you feeling?" Asked Hermione in a concerned voice as she poured him some tea.

"I'm not! I just want to get this over with."

"Have you figured out what you want to say?" Asked Ron.

"I don't know what they're going to ask, but I have a pretty good idea of what they want to hear." Said Harry. "I'm not going to lie, but I'm not going to tell them everything either." There are a lot of details that they don't need to know, there are also a lot of things that they suspect, and want me to confirm, and I won't. I'll tell them as much as necessary, whether they get off or get sent to Azkaban is not my concern." H finished as he took a bite of toast.

"That's good Harry." Said Hermione, squeezing Harry's shoulder. "Just tell the truth like Mr. Weasley said."

Harry knew Ron would've liked to argue against telling a few good 'truths' about the Malfoys, but he thought better of it and said nothing.

"Thanks for the breakfast." He said and rose from his seat.

"Are you sure you don't want us to come with you mate?" Asked Ron.

"I do want you to come, but you're not going to be able to enter."

"We can enter the ministry of bloody magic if we want to!" protested Ron. "My dad and brother work there, maybe I want to visit them."

"Ron, you know that's not how it works." Said Hermione. "Your dad is right, we'll just make a scene."

"Fine!" Said Ron, stabbing a toast with vindictive fury. "But if you need us, send a Patronus, and we'll apparate."

"Thanks Ron, I don't like going there alone either, but it is what it is. I'll get changed." Said Harry and left the kitchen.

He wore his formal robes and his dress shoes, he had his wand in his pocket and his invisibility cloak in his handbag. It was, at this point, an old habit, but a good one nonetheless He looked at himself in the mirror, he thought he looked like a proper wizard. He went downstairs where he said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, and was sent off with well-wishes.

Harry apparated into the Ministry atrium. The summons had said he could arrive directly there, and he was glad of it, though he half expected to be ambushed by reporters. He wasn't. The atrium was deserted; even the usual witches and wizards who greeted visitors were gone. It felt like the Ministry on a holiday. The fountain trickled softly in the centre, the carved faces of the wizard and witch lit by a dim glow that shimmered across the water.

Harry noticed the security desk which was occupied by a stern looking witch who wore a pair of glasses and had her hair tied in a tight bun. She was looking at him with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

"Wand please!" She said monotonously.

"Why?" Asked Harry suspiciously.

"It is protocol Mr. Potter."

"You just saw me apparate here, the wards wouldn't allow me through if my wand, wasn't the wand of Harry Potter." He said flatly.

"Protocol Mr. Potter!" She repeated.

"I refuse to submit my wand! I am not a criminal!" Said Harry, his temper raising. The prospect of getting trapped in an empty ministry of magic with hundreds of layers of wards and protections was not welcoming. Besides, it was too early in the morning for anyone to test his temper.

"Mr. Potter, I am not asking you to submit your wand, I am asking you to show it to me." She explained in a bored voice.

"Fine!" Said Harry as he took out his wand and showed it to her. She took it from him and examined it closely. She then handed it back to him and said "Welcome to the ministry Mr. Potter, a witch or wizard will be here to escort you to the Wizengamot shortly."

"Thank you." Said Harry curtly as he stepped away from the desk. He was about to walk to the fountain when he heard a voice call his name.

"Harry!" Said the voice. Harry turned to see the familiar face of Percy Weasley. He was wearing his usual robes and his hair was neatly combed. He took Harry's hand and shook it vigorously. "How are you Harry?" He asked heartily.

"I'm fine Percy, how are you?" Asked Harry as he shook Percy's hand.

"Wonderful, the world is healing Harry, and we are all doing our part to make it better." He said with a smile. "Come, I'll escort you to the Wizengamot."

"Percy where is everyone?" Asked Harry, following Percy.

"Oh it's an off day, the ministry is closed to the public, only the Wizengamot is in session today." Said Percy. "It's basically for you." He added with a smile.

"For me?"

"High profile individual, war hero, the boy who lived, would attract an army of reporters and thrice those numbers in fans, besides, the Malfoys themselves are high profile individuals, and the ministry doesn't want to take any chances. Specially with a new minister, the last thing we want is the press on such a day." He said as if he was reciting a checklist.

"Right!"

"Are you nervous Harry?" He asked as they walked past a few empty offices and took a left turn.

"Not in the slightest! I was prosecuted by the whole Wizengamot before, remember?" Said Harry, and he was pleased to see Percy turn a shade of red. "But I'm not the one on trial today, the Malfoys are." Harry finished. Percy surely remembered that in that trial, he was not on his side.

"It's good that you're keeping a clear head, Harry." Said Percy as they took another left and passed through a great stone gate Harry had never seen before. They were descending deeper into the Ministry than he'd ever gone. Even in his fifth year, when they'd fought their way through the lower halls of the Department of Mysteries, he hadn't seen corridors like these. The walls were rough, cave-like, as if carved by primitive hands. Ancient runes and strange symbols crawled over the stone, half-buried under centuries of dust. At, last they stopped before a heavy wooden gate, its surface covered in elaborate carvings, mostly runes, though some shapes looked almost alive. It seemed to have been wedged into the mouth of the cave rather than built for it, like the door was never meant to be there at all.

"Here we are!"

"This is not where I expected the trial to be held." Said Harry as he looked at the gate.

"Oh this chamber hasn't been used in centuries, I- I shouldn't tell you this, but there is a chance that the Wizengamot will be destroying an ancient bloodline today!" Said Percy in a grave tone and Harry could tell-based on the shadows in his eyes-that he was not joking. "This is where such things are decided."

"What do you mean by destroying an ancient bloodline?" Asked Harry. "There is no such thing as destroying a bloodline, the Malfoys are not the last of their kind, they have cousins and relatives who can carry on the name." Said Harry "Besides-"

"Harry!" Percy cut him off in an urgent tone, grabbing him by the arm. "This is extremely serious! The Malfoys are on trial for crimes against humanity, they are on trial for their live, and they are on trial for their magic! Whatever you do, do not lie! The chamber will know! And the consequences are severe! Tell the truth and walk out when they allow you to. This chamber Harry, it has magic which is so obscure, that even the veil falls short against it. It can perform the sentence when it is passed! That's why they are holding the trial here! There is no second chance or reconsideration for the Malfoys! Once the vote is taken, the room will act!" Percy finished with a shudder.

"You mean the courtroom will execute them?" Asked Harry in a shocked voice.

"Hiss! Harry be quiet!" Said Percy in a hushed voice. "The chamber is listening!" He added in a hushed voice. "Let us go inside, just remember to be honest." Percy finished as he opened the gate and walked inside.

The courtroom was unlike any other Harry had ever seen, circular, with walls of cold, grey stone that seemed to absorb the light from the flickering torches lining the perimeter. The air was thick with a sense of ancient solemnity, Harry could sense the arcane and hostile magic that washed over him with each step. The ceiling arched high above them, disappearing into shadow, a vault of darkness that seemed to bear down on those who entered. It appeared to shift and swirl like a cloud, as if the very ceiling itself was breathing.

At the centre of it all stood a raised podium, where Harry could see the outline of whom he guessed was Sheraldov. It was grand and imposing, carved from dark wood and gleaming with an almost unnaturally dim polish.

In front of the podium, stretching out like the petals of a strange, twisted flower, were rows of seats arranged in a semicircle. The seats were made of polished, worn leather, each one slightly slanted to allow those seated to gaze up at the judge, as well as at the accused. The faces in the seats were mostly hidden in shadow, their expressions unreadable.

To the left of the podium stood the Malfoys. They were unshackled, but the absence of chains did little to make them look free. They huddled close, pale and hollow-eyed, the air of their usual superiority stripped away. The best word to describe them was perhaps, 'Defeated'. Every faint shift of a foot, every shallow breath seemed to echo off the cold stone beneath them, as though the room itself was holding its breath, waiting for one of them to break.

Directly in front of the podium, separated by a few meters of distance, was a small, raised platform, the witness stand. A single chair rested there, empty now but ready to accept the one who would testify.

The hushed murmurs of those present died down as the doors creaked open, and at that moment, everything seemed to pause, the silence hanging like a dark, suffocating cloud. The room was ready for whatever was to come, and Harry, standing near the gate, felt the eyes of the entire wizarding law enforcement on him as he awaited his beheld the sight before him.

Percy rushed to assume his place next to Sheraldov. Harry stood they for a few seconds, taking in the room and the Wizengamot. The few court reporters sitting tightly by each other with magical stenographers were looking at Harry with an almost hungry look.

At last Sheraldov spoke.

"The court recognizes Mr. Harry James Potter, Male air to the Potter line." Said Sheraldov loudly. "Mr. Potter, please assume the witness stand."

Harry took a few steps forward and positioned himself on the pedestal, his gaze lifting to meet Sheraldov and the Wizengamot. He stood on the same level as the Malfoys, able to see their expressions, an unsettling blend of anticipation and their customary disdain-now withered to an afterthought on their pale faces. No sooner had Harry took his place than the pedestal began to rise, shifting upwards like a stone elevator, its motion almost organic, as if growing from the ground itself. To steady himself, Harry gripped the lone braces around the pedestal, waiting until the ascent ceased. When it did, he found himself face-to-face with Sheraldov.

Harry could finally make out his features. He was a rugged, imposing figure, his physique built like a wrestler, solid, and undeniably strong. His middle-aged face seemed stern and weathered, yet there was a harsh vitality to him, a raw energy that seemed to pulse beneath his skin. His eyes were a cold, metallic silver, sharp enough to cut through stone. He wore a robe of immaculate white. A ring gleamed on his left hand, its stone shifting in colour with each movement, and on his chest, pinned neatly over his heart, was a crest Harry didn't recognize.

"The court already holds you in high regard Mr. Potter. The pedestal doesn't raise for just everyone." Sheraldov spoke.

"I am flattered minister!" Said Harry sincerely.

"As am I to see you face to face! Let us do the formalities and begin! Are you Harry James Potter?"

"I am."

"Do you swear by your honour and your magic and on your blood, that you will tell the truth and nothing but the truth?"

"I do!"

"Very well then, We begin!"

"Were you held hostage at the Malfoy manor during the second wizarding war?"

"I was!"

"And where you accompanied by Mr. Ronald Bilious Weasley and Mrs. Hermione Jane Granger?"

"That is correct minister!"

"Then please explain to the Wizengamot in as much detail as you recall, the circumstances of this event, but before you begin, let the accused be raised to our height, I wish to see their faces clearly!" Said Sheraldov bitterly and as he did, there was a low rumble of stone against stone. It was as if the room was yawning. After a few moments, The Malfoys were raised on their stand in their level.

Harry mentally sighed, he knew this was coming. He had told this story so many times, he could recite it in his sleep. "It was the summer of 1997, and we were on the run. We had just left the wedding of Bill and Fleur Weasley, when we were attacked by Death Eaters. We managed to escape, but we were separated from the others. We were on the run for weeks, trying to find a place to hide. We were eventually captured by Death Eaters and taken to Malfoy Manor."

Harry skipped over the unnecessary details as he worked his way through the many events that had transpired during his time at the Malfoy Manor. He spoke of the torture, the fear, and the eventual escape. He spoke of Dobby's sacrifice, and how they had managed to escape with the help of the house-elf, and how wormtail's silver hand had betrayed him and choked his owner to death.

It took him nearly 20 minutes before he reached a satisfactory conclusion. When he finished his tale, he looked up to see the faces of the Wizengamot. Most of them were looking at him with pity and sympathy, but there were a few who were looking at him with suspicion and doubt.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter, for your cooperation!" Said Sheraldov "I do not wish to be insensitive, re-living such events cannot be pleasant, but I must do my duty as the minister of magic. I must ask you about the details of Ms Hermione Granger's torture at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange."

"I'm sorry minister, but I cannot provide any more details than I already have, since I was locked alongside my friend Ron in the basement. What I told you was what I heard from Hermione after the event, and she wasn't comfortable sharing details, and I wouldn't ask." Said Harry, his voice loud and firm.

Sheraldov nodded, "I understand Mr. Potter. Very well. Do you know whether Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy was present during the event?"

"I know for a fact that she was!" Answered Harry with a nod.

"Would you say that she had administered the brutal torture to Miss Granger herself? Or was she an observer?" Asked Sheraldov. "Or did she encourage her sister to do so?"

"I cannot say for sure, but I do know that she was present during the event, and she did not stop her sister, perhaps because she had very little control over her, but I wouldn't know for sure."

"What makes you say that?" Asked Sheraldov.

"Bellatrix was insane and unhinged, and I dare say none of the Malfoys were at ease in her presence. In fact, even the other death eaters were not at ease in her presence."

"Elaborate."

"Which part?"

"The part about the Malfoys not being happy next to their ally Mr. Potter."

"The Malfoys were not happy that their manor was being used as a base for the Death Eaters, they were forced to comply."

"Yet not unhappy enough to stop the torture of an underage witch." Said Sheraldov with disdain and loathing etched in his voice.

"I can say for certain that next to the safety of her beloved son, there is very little that Narcissa Malfoy is not willing to do." Said Harry. "She would do anything to protect her son, even if that means watching young witches get tortured, passed around between snatcher or worst, given to Grayback as a snack!"

He paused, looking over at Narcissa, who looked like she was about to faint. She nodded vigorously in negation as their eyes locked. "And even if that means lying to Voldemort's face!" Harry said loudly. "I would have admired her motherhood, if it didn't mean that she would hurt anyone in any way, over her son." Harry finished, and he was pleased to see the effect his words had on the Wizengamot.

A wave of whispers and shudders swept the Wizengamot. The muttering was so loud that Sheraldov had to bang his gavel to restore order. Harry chanced a surreptitious look over to the Malfoy family. Narcissa was looking at him with a mixture of shock and disbelief. Draco looking placid, and to Harry's satisfaction, Lucious's features reflected comprehension and understanding. His cold eyes were gleaming with a newfound clarity and if Harry wasn't imagining things, he even gave Harry a very small nod. He unlike his son understood, what game Harry was playing, and he knew that he had to play it very well, or might as well cast an Avadakedavra at them himself.

"Silence in the court!" Sheraldov shouted. "Mr. Potter, Did I hear you correctly? Did you just say that Mrs. Malfoy lied to Voldemort?" He asked, leaning forward and Harry was pleased to hear him use Riddle's pseudonym without a shudder.

"Yes sir she did!" Said Harry.

"Will you please explain to the Wizengamot the circumstances of this event?"

Harry explained the events of the dark forest, how he had been killed by Voldemort, and how Narcissa had lied to the Dark Lord about his death. He explained how she had saved his life, and how she had saved the lives of many others by doing so.

"This is most illuminating Mr. Potter, it is almost as if Narcissa Malfoy is capable of caring about someone other than her family." Said Sheraldov with a raised eyebrow.

"No she is not! I have no delusions about that! The only reason she saved me was because she wanted to save her son, and she knew that I was the only one who could do that." Said Harry. "I also think that after she obtained the information about Draco's whereabouts, she could have handed me over to Voldemort without a second thought, and there was the possibility that I would not have survived another killing curse from him." The Wizengamot gasped in shock and launched into renewed muttering and whispers. "BUT SHE DIDN'T!" Harry shouted over the mutterings and they fell silent.

"Would you say that it was a moment of weakness Mr Potter?" Asked Sheraldov.

"I don't know what it was, but I do know that she saved my life. As far as I'm concerned we are even!" Said Harry.

"Even?" Asked Sheraldov as he leaned unto his desk, and looked at Harry with a vivid expression of anger.

"Yes even! She saved my life, and I saved her son's!"

"You saved Draco Malfoy's life?"

"Yes I did!" Said Harry. "More than once during the battle of Hogwarts, I saved his life, and he saved mine."

"How did Mr Malfoy save your life Mr Potter?"

"When he lied to Bellatrix Lestrange about my identity. He could have easily handed me over to her, but he didn't. He could identify me, even though my face was deformed, I was caught with my usual company, but he lied!" Said Harry, and he started to fill in the details of their capture at the hands of the snatchers, and how Hermione had used a spell to distort his features.

"Would you say that he did so out of fear?" Asked Sheraldov.

"He was afraid, I could see it in his eyes, perhaps he knew that if Voldemort himself asked him, he wouldn't stand a chance at lying to him, but to Bellatrix, he did!"

"Would you say that he did so out of loyalty?"

"Loyalty? To me?" Harry laughed loudly. "Definitely not! Since the day we met, we didn't quite see eye to eye minister."

"Understandable, those things happen among school children." Said Sheraldov.

"I believe that Draco Malfoy was poisoned by the dark arts, he was raised to be a death eater, but he was not one at heart. He was a bully, and an idiot, but he was not a killer. He was only trying to fix the mistakes of his father and save his family, and I cannot blame him for that if I'm being completely honest." Said Harry. "The Malfoys fell out of favour when Lucious failed to retrieve the prophecy, and Draco was forced to take his place, he was forced to do things that he didn't want to do. I witnessed this first hand during our sixth year at Hogwarts, when he was forced to kill Dumbledore, he was not a killer, yet he was trying his best and that almost got two of the students killed. Dumbledore understood this, and so did Narcissa Malfoy, and that's why she made Snape make an unbreakable vow to protect him." Harry finished.

"Severus Snape made an unbreakable vow to protect Draco Malfoy?" Asked Sheraldov, his eyes bulging out of his skull in shock. "What a wealth of information you are Mr. Potter!"

"Yes he did! And he really tried to keep that vow unbroken, hence why it was him, who killed Dumbledore!" Said Harry. There was a renewed wave of muttering and whispers among the Wizengamot. "And I have reasons to believe that Snape's killing curse did not kill Dumbledore, but that's beyond the scope of this court." Harry finished.

"Intriguing! Very intriguing Mr. Potter! Yet you are right, that is beyond the scope of this court." Said Sheraldov. "Would you say that Mr. Malfoy was a victim of his own incompetence at acquiring the prophecy?"

"I believe that he was!" Said Harry.

"You're making the Malfoys sound like a bunch of misunderstood and abused kittens Mr. Potter!" Said Sheraldov with a mean chuckle that did not, at all compliment his rough features.

"No minister, The Malfoys like power, and they like to stay close to were power is! I cannot lie nor will I lie to make them look bad or good, I can only say what I know or what I have seen or what I suspect, the judgment lies on the shoulders of the Wizengamot whom we trust, have our best interest at heart." Said Harry curtly.

"And that is what we expect of you Mr. Potter." Said Sheraldov flatly. "How does someone like you, with such insight and experience, assess the Malfoys?"

Harry had to pause for a second to consider his question.

"My understanding of the Malfoys situation is that they got themselves involved with things that they could not control. They are an ancient family, rich and resourceful and cunning. It is natural that anyone who seeks power and has none of it to begin with, would seek to recruit them, as it is natural for them, being who they are, to be attracted to power like moth to flame. This time they got burnt!"

"Are you trying to depict them as victims Mr. Potter?" Came the shrewd voice of Sheraldov, almost shaking with anger.

"No sir! If they are victims, they are only the victims of their own short-sightedness and greed. If I can be completely honest with you, I do not like any one of them in the slightest, but it isn't about me liking them or disliking them, it is about the truth, and I have not spoken a single lie! If you doubt me, summon a vial of Veritaserum and I will consent to being subjected to it!" Harry replied angrily, his temper raising as he felt himself getting red in the face.

"There would be no need for such crude methods Mr. Potter, we are happy to take your words, yet we only need to ask certain questions to shed some light on the various angles of this case." Said Sheraldov in a voice of deliberate calm.

"Then ask your questions minister!" Said Harry coldly.

"Very well then, Mr. Potter, would you say that the Malfoys are guilty of the crimes they are accused of?" Asked Sheraldov.

"That is not for me to say."

"Would you say that they are innocent?" Asked Sheraldov.

"Definitely not!" Said Harry.

"Then what would you say Mr. Potter? What would be the proper punishment for the Malfoys?" He asked with a wry grin.

"I am unfamiliar with the laws of the Wizengamot." Said Harry. Knowing far too well that his words would have heavy influence on the final verdict, and tried to evade the trap that Sheraldov was setting for him.

"You are familiar with the laws of the Wizengamot Mr. Potter, you have been tried by them before." Said Sheraldov.

"Are you referring to the minor underage magic violation charge that was somehow serious enough to be prosecuted by the whole Wizengamot? The very violation that was only necessary due to the fact that a certain Wizengamot member-whom I am pleased to not see today-had authorized dementors on me and my muggle cousin?" Harry retorted, his voice loud and angry. Many of the Wizengamot members were shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

"I am glad that you possess such a sharp mind and a keen memory Mr. Potter, I'm also glad, as upsetting as it is, that you have first-hand experience with injustice due to weak administration. Such corruption has no place under my ministry Mr. Potter, and we are here to make sure that justice is upheld!" Said Sheraldov in a voice of righteous indignation.

"That is why you have the respect of the wizarding England minister, but please understand that I am not a judge nor a lawyer, I am a witness, and I have told you all that I know." Said Harry, hoping to get out of the court before he lost his temper and made himself another enemy.

"You are a witness Mr. Potter, a witness to a great deal of things, but you are also a hero, and your words carry weight, and your opinion matters." Said Sheraldov, turning Harry's suspicion of a trap to certainty.

"You flatter me minister, but I am not a hero, I am just someone who had to do, what he had to do."

"So assume that you have to do this as well Mr. Potter, what would you say?" Asked Sheraldov. "What would be the proper punishment for the Malfoys? The veil, the kiss, Azkaban, or something else?"

"I wouldn't give my worst enemy to the kiss..." Said Harry bitterly.

"I must apologize, I shouldn't have mentioned the veil before you, it was a mistake on my part." Said Sheraldov with a smirk, not looking at all sorry.

"Yet another example of corrupt administration's injustice minister?"

"Precisely Mr. Potter. I am curious that after everything that you and your friends had to suffer at the hands of the Malfoys, you seem to not want to see them punished." Said Sheraldov. "Why is that?"

"I'd like to see them punished, justly and accordingly, but I don't want to see them destroyed, if we start destroying people, How are we better than death eaters?"

"Do you know how many people have suffered because of them Mr. Potter? Do you have any idea how many muggles were tortured, raped and murdered at the hand of Lucious Malfoy?" Roared Sheraldov. "And you think creatures like these deserve the courtesy of a civilized punishment?"

"I already confessed my ignorance minister. I do not know the extent of their crimes." Said Harry, in another attempt to dodge Sheraldov's bait. "Yet I do believe that if we call ourselves civilized, it must mean we rise above the cruelty we condemn, not mirror it."

"There is no kindness for the unkind! I will not waste justice on the unjust!" He roared and the entire Wizengamot inhaled as one. "I am telling you the extent of their crimes, if I were you, I would want them destroyed!" Said Sheraldov and for the first time, Harry saw a glint of insanity in his eyes.

"You would destroy an ancient wizarding family minister?" Asked Harry. "End an ancient line of magical blood? You are already a very different minister than your predecessor! And not in a good way!" Harry spat angrily, knowing that he was walking a thin line. Making an enemy of this minister of magic wouldn't do him well at all.

"I am nothing like my predecessors, Mr. Potter. Their niceties are not values to me. Justice is." Sheraldov's voice was flat as iron.

"And how much injustice will you commit in the name of justice? How many lives must be destroyed for you to uphold an ideology? How many like my godfather Sirius Black, should be tossed into Azkaban without trial? Would you sentence Draco Malfoy to the kiss just because he was an idiot who followed his parents like every other child?" Said Harry loudly.

"Draco Malfoy was old enough to pick his own side and Sirius Black was from a dark family-"

"-And that is enough for life in prison without a trial?" Shouted Harry, his voice loud and angry he was finally losing control. "Is that your idea of justice minister? Is that what you want to do to the Malfoys? To destroy them based on their family name or by their blood status? How about we start killing all the pure bloods? That would give Voldemort a laugh only if he had a soul left once I was done with him! How about we spare the Weasleys since their blood traitors after all but send the Longbottoms straight to the veil? Many members of the Wizengamot are of pure blood parentage, should we send them to the veil or schedule them a date with a charming dementor? Will you drag them to your altar of blind justice? And how long before the claws of your blind justice close around your own neck minister?" Harry's voice echoed in the courtroom.

The Wizengamot was in an uproar, the reporters were scribbling furiously, and the scribes were writing as fast as they could. Sheraldov was looking at Harry with an unreadable expression. He looked cold and unmoved, or furious and ready to strike, or impressed but annoyed. It could be any one of those things. Harry was breathing heavily, his face red with anger, his hands clenched into fists. He glanced over at Percy who was pale in the face and shaking his head as he stared at Harry, frozen in his seat and not taking a single note.

When Sheraldov finally began to speak, his voice was loud, melodious and strong. His words reverberated off the stone walls of the chamber, amplifying their effect and washing over the audience like a waterfall of words.

"I am a patient man Mr. Potter. I am fair, and I am just. I tolerate your outburst, for I know that in your heart, you wish the world well. Yet you are young. You have suffered, yet you remain kind. It is a gift, I do not possess. It is a gift that I am bereft of!" He paused, addressing the chamber.

"I have watched ages turn, Mr. Potter. Empires do not endure on kindness; they endure on power and the terror it breeds. They are fed on the blood of innocent and guilty alike, borne upon the backs of the weak and the strong, born from the tears of the poor and the laughter of the rich. It is no accident the world has names and families to stain its ledger, Malfoy or Potter, Weasley or Longbottom, Muggle or wizard, all are counted the same when the machine demands justice. I know how this world is ordered. I know that one misstep of mine would see me torn down by those I serve, and I have made my peace with that. I will shoulder the burden of choice so that you, your friends, and your children may be spared its full cruelty. If generations cast my name into scorn, and spit at my tombstone and curse my name, then be it! I remain untouched by your speech."

"You guys just don't get it, do you? Either we get Voldemort who is an insane murderer, or we get Fudge who was an idiot, or we get Scrimgeour who had his heart in the right place, but was too busy nosing in Dumbledore's life, Or we get you and your twisted sense of justice!"

"The world is twisted!" roared Sheraldov. "Twisted and obscene and filled with horrors! Someone must bear the weight, someone must cleanse the rot!" His voice cracked like thunder as his fists struck the desk, scattering ink and parchment into the air. The wizards beside him recoiled, shrinking from his fury, while his wild, bloodshot eyes fixed on Harry with a terrible, burning intensity.

There were a few moments of silence, were Sheraldov's heavy breathing echoed in the chamber, stenographers clicking timidly.

"Please allow me to say one final thing and step down minister." Harry finally broke the silence, his voice calm and steady.

"You may say your 'thing' Mt. Potter but whether you step down or not is my decision!" Sheraldov replied in a restrained voice.

"Fine. Many students at Hogwarts rely on the little student fund that they receive for books and supplies each year. The Malfoys provide almost all of that fund. This year and possibly the years to come, Hogwarts is short of gold since the castle has suffered great damage during the war, so the students in need have even less money to spend. My only request is that you remember these students, whatever the court decide to do to the Malfoys. I also volunteer to donate some gold to this cause. That is my only request, since my words apparently have some weight."

"It will be done Mr. Potter, we have heard you and I agree with you." Sheraldov replied formally.

"Thank you. Is that all?" Asked Harry.

At that moment, the ceiling stirred. A deep, guttural rumble echoed through the chamber, a sound that seemed to rise from some abyss beyond the veil of reality, heavy and suffocating like a voice trapped beneath water. The ceiling's tar-like exterior twisted and writhed, its surface pulsating with eerie life, as though a storm brewed within its depths, waiting for the right moment to break free.

Below, wizards and witches shuddered, ducking beneath their desks. Some clutched their wands with white-knuckled grips, while others simply covered their ears, their faces pale with dread. Whispers of protective charms crackled in the thick air, but none dared to stand against the horror overhead.

Harry was also looking at the ceiling with a growing sense of foreboding, but he remained in his place. Something was telling him that it was quite safe, at least for him. He chanced a look over at the Malfoys and saw that Lucious was holding unto Narcissa and Draco, and he too was fearfully looking at the ceiling.

Sheraldov, however, remained unmoved. He studied the shifting, seething mass above with a cold, appraising gaze, as though it were no more than an expected inconvenience. Then, with deliberate calm, he spoke, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"The court shall decide..."

The courtroom was shaking from the barely restrained magic of the ceiling. It was as if a massive earthquake was happening. The air was tearing with ripples of emitting magic from above, ripping though the weak protective charms and knocking over chairs and ink bottles and even people.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the chaos stilled. A voice reached Harry, inside him and all around him at once. He could not tell if it was male or female, singular or many, for it seemed both ancient and infinite.

"Much ancient blood stirreth in mine presence... Much suffering, much terror... lo, the fear of ages past shall awaken."

Harry scanned the chamber to see if anyone else had heard it, but the Wizengamot only cowered-heads down under benches, robes pulled over ears, hurried wards snapping into being. Ink-stained quills and scrap paper fluttered like dead leaves from the minister's desk. He caught Sheraldov's eye; the minister gave him a single, cold nod. Across the room Lucius Malfoy had gone nearly ashen, his hands gripping Narcissa and Draco by their heads so hard his knuckles showed white, his face a pleading, and terrified.

"Much hath passed since last I felt thy blood stir the air... the old fury yet burneth within thee... the hunger, the ruin, the mark of Stinchcombe and Peverell..."

"Much hath passed since I beheld thy line... steeped in the red arts, where mind and magic intertwine... the blood of Armand runneth still, cold and cunning..."

"Much hath passed, too, for thee, potion maker... thou who bindest power to will, and justice to poison... thine hour is not yet come, but I feel its stirring in the deep..."

Harry looked over at Lucius, who seemed on the verge of collapse. His own knees trembled under the crushing weight of the voice, it pressed on him like an invisible hand, heavy and relentless, but he refused to bow, refused to kneel as the others had. Lucius looked just as lost, his wide eyes darting across the chamber in panic. Stinchcombe? Harry thought, the name echoing in his skull. And the potion maker, who? The Malfoys? It would make sense, they were Slytherins through and through, but nothing about this felt certain.

"I am awakened to pass judgment... and judgment I shall pass... But first... riddle me this... what lieth between justice and punishment?"

Harry's first thought was that it sounded oddly like a sphinx.

"I am not a sphinx a descendant of the Stinchcombe and Peverell!" And the ceiling rumbled again, louder and stronger than before, it was as though the chamber, or whatever gave life to it was laughing at him, mocking his thoughts. The prospect of this 'being' whatever it was, being able to read his thoughts was eerie.

"An answer... I await ..." The voice rumbled.

Harry's first instinct was that there was no real difference. But another thought followed, rising unbidden: when punishment surpassed the crime, it ceased to be justice, it became vengeance. And if he was honest with himself, he wasn't sure that vengeance repulsed him entirely.

Still, there had to be a line. Without one, they would become worse than those they condemned.

"That I can accept... For even the righteous may falter...

"Now tell me this, blood of Armand, What is worth all the gold in the world?"

Harry's eyes found Lucius Malfoy again, clutching his wife and son as though to crush them. His face was pale, hollow, pleading.

"I can accept that... For not all that glitters is gold..."

And just like that, it ended. The convulsing ceiling stilled; the deep rumble faded to a distant heartbeat. The Wizengamot slowly crept from beneath their desks, faces pale, eyes fixed upward as if afraid the ceiling might awaken again. Only Sheraldov remained calm, or was pretending to be. He stared down at the floor with a strange intensity, either hiding his fear or seeing something no one else could.

Draco and Narcissa were now standing next to a shivering Lucious, keeping close and holding unto him. Suddenly a new set of rumbling started and everyone's eyes darted to the ceiling again, except for Sheraldov who kept gazing intently at the floor. It took Harry a second to realize that the shaking was coming from the below this time.

He leaned forwards, the tiles beneath their feet were moving. Runes and symbols Harry didn't recognize slid across the stone, rearranging themselves into a shape, a word, perhaps, and began to glow with a searing red light.

Sheraldov's expression twisted. He clenched his fists, then glared at Harry with a hatred so sharp it seemed to pierce the air.

"They shall pay in gold!" he hissed through his teeth. "Gold!" he shouted, his voice cracking the silence. Then again, louder, to the ceiling itself, "Gold?"

His cry echoed through the chamber. Gasps followed. Even the ancient portraits lining the walls seemed to recoil. Sheraldov closed his eyes, drew in a long breath, and when he opened them, he was cold again, a man restored to composure by sheer will.

"Very well! This case shall be transferred to a lower court. Dismissed!"

He turned and strode vanished through a tall door behind him, a door Harry was certain had not been there before.

The Malfoys collapsed together in a trembling heap. Around them, the Wizengamot stirred like people waking from a deep trance, blank, uncertain, whispering to one another as if they'd forgotten why they were there.

The chamber lowered Harry to the ground. Harry took one look at the sorry state of the Malfoys and without a second thought, without talking to anyone or waiting for Percy to come to his senses, left the courtroom in a steady and purposeful paste, he needed to get out of this chamber, and he needed to tell everything to-not to Hermione, no she'd panic. They'd find out soon enough, but first he needed to tell everything to Phinius Nigilus.