Penelope Clearwater-Weasley stepped forward, her argument ready. Though most prosecutors liked to utilize Veritaserum to get the truth out of the defendants, she liked to twist and manipulate their answers until she got the ones she needed. Her extraordinary skill of manipulation was probably why the Sorting Hat had struggled between Ravenclaw and Slytherin during her Sorting. "Mr. Potter, were you a Death Eater in the service of Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes," Harry answered, his tone bored.

"And when did you receive the Dark Mark?"

Harry's voice was harder as he answered, "On my seventeenth birthday." Lily Potter took a sharp breath at that answer. She had remembered celebrating her eldest son's coming of age, thinking that he had the world in front of him to conquer. It was heartbreaking to know that on that very day he had signed his life away to a madman.

"And do you still bear that mark?"

Instead of answering the question, Harry rolled up the sleeve of his Azakban uniform to show the Mark. After Voldemort's demise, the Mark itself had faded remarkable, but it was still present on any marked Death Eater's arm. It looked a little like a bruise. Harry seemed to be doing his best to avoid looking at said mark.

Penelope turned to the trial. "Let it be noted that Mr. Potter has freely shown us evidence that he is a Death Eater."

"Objection," Daphne Greengrass said smoothly. "Being a Death Eater in itself has never been considered a crime by this court. Only crimes committed in correlation to being a Death Eater can be prosecuted."

"Sustained," Director Bones agreed. "Ms. Clearwater-Weasley, please move on."

Frustrated, Penelope tried another angle. "And were you responsible for the death of retired Auror Alastor Moody?"

"Objection!" Daphne stated once again. "My client is not being charged with that crime at this trial."

Penelope was prepared. "I am not attempting to try Mr. Potter for the death of Alastor Moody. I am merely trying to establish a baseline for what crimes defendant committed in Lord Voldemort's service."

Director Bones raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like self-incrimination to me." She turned to Harry. "Mr. Potter, you are free to abstain from answering that question."

Harry grinned wryly, an action that almost made Daphne's heart stop. Not that it showed, of course. "Though I do find this pissing contest very amusing, I am willing to answer any questions the prosecution has for me." That comment earned a wry chuckle from his brothers, a cluck of disapproval from the older people in the room, and a furious glare from both lawyers. "Yes, I was responsible for Moody's death."

"Did you kill anyone else while in Lord Voldemort's service?" Some people leaned forward in their seats to hear the answer to this question. In the four years since Harry had turned to the Dark side, everyone had wondered why his name had been linked to no other murderers than Moody's. It seemed impossible to believe that someone so high in Death Eater ranks could've only killed once.

Harry's normally green eyes turned dark very fast. "Not by choice," was the only thing he had to say in response to that question. No matter how hard Penelope pushed, Harry would not give any details or expand on that answer. Knowing that as his right, Penelope moved on. She called a witness to the stand. Colbert Wilkinson was a newbie recruit to the Death Eaters, only having been there four months when Voldemort was defeated. Having no evidence of crimes committed and due to the little time he actually was a Death Eater, Colbert was tried for war crimes and given a very light community service sentence. Still, the stigma of his past poor choice surrounded him, and he had jumped at the chance to testify against a well-known Death Eater in hopes of clearing up his reputation.

"Mr. Wilkinson, what was the defendant's job as a Death Eater?" Penelope asked.

"I'm not sure," Colbert answered. "I know he was heavily involved in international recruitment. He was one of the few who were permitted to leave the manor for long stretches of time. He also was in charge of training up new recruits." He winced. "It was not an experience I'd want to live through again."

"Was Mr. Potter a harsh teacher?"

"Yes. He didn't accept anything but the best." He nervously looked over at Harry, who did not acknowledge him at all. "It was clear he had been very well trained. None of us could ever figure out by whom."

"What were Mr. Potter's other responsibilities?"

"I don't know. All I could ever find out was that he and Aimee Yaxley were exempt from participating in raids despite their extraordinary dueling skills." Harry looked up at the mention of the Yaxley girl, but his face still showed no emotion.

A few more questions were asked, but Colbert Wilkinson really didn't know anything else and so he was dismissed. The defense then took the floor. Harry was called to the stand.

Daphne strolled forward, her eyes connecting directly with Harry's. "Tell me what happened on September 17, 1991."

Harry glared at his lawyer, but she didn't back down. Finally, he answered, "Albus Dumbledore called me to his office."

There was confusion amongst the court, particularly with Harry's family. Why was Daphne asking about the beginning of Harry's fourth year? What did it have to do with his activities as a Death Eater. Evan remembered his first year fondly, remembered the loud cheering his brother had done when he was sorted into Gryffindor. He was sure Harry would've cheered like that no matter what house he was sorted into. Even if he had been sorted into Slytherin.

Daphne turned to the jury. "Exhibit A: A Pensieve memory from the defendant dated September 17, 1991." Everyone in the court room watched as she opened a tiny vial and dropped the memory into the Pensieve.

Projecting out, the memory showed a fourteen year old Harry standing at the entrance of Dumbledore's office. "Skittles," he said with a slight smile.

Walking up the stairs, the memory-Harry was greeted by Fawkes's trilling. He reached out and stroked the feathers of the beautiful phoenix. "Professor?" he shouted out.

Dumbledore stepped out, his purple starred robes causing everyone in the court room to crack a smile. "Ah, Harry, please take a seat." Harry did so, and Dumbledore sat back down in his chair. "Lemon drop?" Harry shook his head.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Dumbledore was content to sit and enjoy a lemon drop while Harry stared, obviously trying to figure out why he had been called to Dumbledore's office. "Sir, have I done something wrong?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Not that I know of, my boy. Though if you would like to confess something..."

Harry feigned innocence. "Why, Professor! I have no idea what you could be referring to..."

Both of Harry's younger brothers chortled at that comment. Harry had been trained by the Mauraders and was well-known for his sly pranking style by the time Evan started Hogwarts. The Boy-Who-Lived's eyes flickered away from the memory Harry to the older version on trial. He wondered how much of the prankster, risk-taking older brother, the brother he had admired, was left in this new, colder version. He wondered if he'd ever get the chance to find out.

Memory Harry's face turned serious. "So why did you ask to see me, sir?"

Dumbledore started to explain. Everyone listened as he talked about Voldemort, how he had survived the night he tried to kill Evan, how he was just waiting for the chance to rebuild his body and his forces, and how there would be a second war when he did. He talked about how they needed to build up their forces before that happened, how they would need more than Aurors and Healers to gain an edge, how having trained spies and double agents would be necessary. As Dumbledore said all of this, Harry just sat there, listening, not saying a word. It was clear there were wheels spinning behind his head, but no one could tell what the elusive eldest Potter son was thinking.

When Harry did finally speak, the first question he asked was, "When do I start?" It was such a reckless, stubborn, Gryffindorish thing to say in reply to such news that James couldn't stop grinning, much to his wife's displeasure.

At that moment, Dumbledore looked older than most had ever seen him. "Harry, this will not be easy. You will have to be branded with a Dark Mark. Everyone you love, your parents, your brothers, your friends, will hate you for your 'betrayal'. It will be dangerous and possibly deadly."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to do this or not?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I want to make sure you understand the risks involved. This is the kind of job that would break most people. I can't promise you much, but I can guarantee this will make a difference in the war."

Harry's eyes glinted with determination, and it was clear nothing could derail him. "Then I'll do it." The memory faded out, leaving a shocked courtroom in its wake. Albus Dumbledore, the leader of the Light, had decided to use one of his students, a fourteen year old boy, as a spy? It was so appalling, so outrageous, that no one would've believed it without seeing the memory. James and Lily, on the other hand, were furious with both Harry and Dumbledore. How dare that old coot manipulate their son into spying for them! How dare Harry for accepting the offer instead of telling them about it! At that moment, it was probably a good thing Albus Dumbledore had been dead a year because all the Potters currently wanted him dead.

Daphne raised an eyebrow at her client. "So, after that idiotically quick Gryffindor acceptance of a suicide mission, what plans were made?"

Harry shifted his eyes away from the peering crowd. "I was to be trained."

"And who was chosen to train you?"

"Alastor Moody." It was an answer that rocked the courtroom, a place that was becoming more and more enthralled by this story by the minute. It didn't make any sense. If Moody trained Harry Potter, why would Potter kill him?
"And was this training harsh?" Daphne probed. In truth, she knew the answer to her own question. Harry's training with Moody had been harsher than what most Aurors went through. She had seen him bruised and sore and barely able to walk to his dormitory some nights, and yet he never complained or went to see Madame Pomfrey. It took her a bit to realize that Moody wasn't just teaching Harry (her boyfriend?) defensive spells and hexes but also how to manage pain. Of course, knowing this didn't make her want to throttle Moody even less.

"Yes," Harry replied calmly. Of all the people in this crazy scheme, he had never hated Moody because Moody seemed to be the only one who actually cared if he stayed alive and trained him to do so. "But I didn't mind. I still don't."

"Why?" Daphne couldn't help but ask. Some would consider what Moody had put him through torture, and yet Harry had never said an ill word towards the ex-Auror.

Harry's eyes hardened, and for a moment some were worried Daphne would get hurt. Of course, they didn't know Harry could never, would never, hurt Daphne. "Because I'm still alive, and a lot of people aren't." It wasn't much, but Harry just couldn't explain that Moody trained him so hard so he wouldn't break because Aurors could break every once and a while but Death Eaters never could because then they'd be useless and the key to being a Death Eater was to stay useful. For some reason, he felt complied to add, "I was never forced to keep going. I asked for the training to get more difficult."

Daphne pursed her lips but didn't ask any additional questions, and many people in the room were looking at Harry with admiration, particularly the Aurors who had been trained by Moody. The regular training was bad enough for grown me, but for a fourteen year old kid who then went on to ask for more difficulty? One thing was buzzing through these Aurors' minds: Harry Potter must be great in action.

The witness was handed over to Penelope once again. "Mr. Potter, who knew about your training initially?"

"Albus Dumbledore, Alastor Moody, and Severus Snape," Harry answered.

"And Severus Snape and Alastor Moody know about Dumbledore's plan?"

Harry snorted. "Well, considering they were assisting with it, yes. Honestly, there wasn't much of a plan of attack my fourth year. I was training to be a double agent, but it was unclear what information I would be looking for. The plan was assembled as we had got new information."

Penelope couldn't help but laugh. "Doesn't sound like much of a plan to me. At that point, Dumbledore didn't even know if he would need a double agent."

Harry smirked. "Well, we had no Ravenclaws consulting," Penelope blushed at this, "but things ran smoothly at first."

"At first?" Penelope repeated. "Something went wrong?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, a smile at the corner of his lips.

"And what was that?"

A full-blown smirk spread across Harry's face. Penelope raised an eyebrow. "Daphne Greengrass."

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