Well, I won't answer that question, either, even though I do finally have an answer.

~~~~

The next morning, I woke up with the sun. Well, "woke up" is a bit of a stretch, because I don't believe I ever really went to sleep for more than a few minutes. However, I was too nervous to be tired. I walked down to the kitchen, my stomach feeling like it was preparing for a gymnastics competition. We wouldn't leave until after lunch, and I was not going to do well waiting.

I spent the morning with Albus, who didn't want to do much of anything either. We played wizard chess, and a five-year-old could have beaten either of us, but I didn't really care. Anything to make the long hours pass faster.

When Albus and I finally walked into the kitchen at noon, James and Mr. Potter were already there, staring at full plates.

"Well, you'd better eat," Mr. Potter said, standing up and taking his own untouched plate over to the counter. "It's going to be a long day."

I sat down and reached for a plate, but I couldn't bring myself to take a bite. I was afraid I would be sick. Which was strange, because I'd thought I'd been looking forward to seeing Wren again. Of course, I'd never expected I'd next see her at her trial.

After about ten minutes of James and me not eating, and Albus watching us glumly, Mr. Potter sighed. "Fine. I suppose you're ready?"

I nodded. James said, "Yeah," and hopped up to get the Floo powder.

"You'll be sitting with Ron and Rose," Mr. Potter said as he grabbed his briefcase. He paused, then sighed. "Don't let Rose get too upset, all right? Hermione said she wasn't doing well."

"Then maybe it's a good thing we're going," I said quietly.

"Yeah, we'll help her."

"Good. Well, let's go."

"Bye," Albus called as we walked over to the fireplace. I smiled a little and waved at him.

James and I each took a handful of Floo powder, threw it into the fireplace, and shouted, "The Ministry of Magic!" In seconds, all three of us were standing in an enormous room that was unlike anything I'd ever seen.

Fireplaces lined the walls, and wizards and witches were appearing in fireplaces all along the wall we stood by. Mr. Potter quickly moved us out of the way as a witch wearing dark blue robes appeared just behind us and rushed past without a second glance. On the opposite wall, small lines of wizards and witches formed before each fireplace, as people departed.

Mr. Potter steered us down the room towards a large fountain. It had a golden statue of six people. Little jets of water flew from the ends of the six drawn wands, and as we drew closer, I gasped. One of them had to be Mr. Potter. The lightning scar was visible on his face. The girl next to and slightly behind him, holding her wand defensively, looked like a much younger Mrs. Potter.

"Yeah, that's Dad and Mum," James whispered as we passed. "And Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron..." He pointed to two more of the six figures, "And Uncl— I mean, Professor Longbottom, and Aunt— Well, Mrs. Luna Scamander."

"Why is there a statue of them here?"

"They led people in the Battle of Hogwarts, of course. While Dad and Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione were off trying to find Horcruxes, Mum and the others rebelled against the Death Eaters at Hogwarts, too. They really stood against Voldemort when everyone else had given up."

We were heading towards a pair of large golden gates at the end of the room. Through the crowds I caught sight of a few of my classmates. Here for the trial, too, I expected. Most of them looked nervous. Of course, they'd be the ones testifying to the Wizengamot, I realized after a moment. Lacy and Leah Macmillian, Iris Brown's older brother Elias, Clarissa Rogers, Trilia Bones... Of course they'd be nervous. I couldn't imagine what they were thinking.

"Ron!" Mr. Potter shouted, and I turned to look in the direction he was looking. A tall, ginger man turned and caught sight of us, then quickly started pushing his way through the crowds to join us. Rose was right behind him. As they approached, I realized she was a little green.

"Rose, it'll be okay," I said, hugging her. She didn't respond, but smiled at me anyway.

"Nervous?" Mr. Weasley was asking Mr. Potter.

"What do you think?" He shook his head. "I don't know how it's going to go, Ron."

"You'll beat that Carrow woman," Mr. Weasley said encouragingly, clapping Mr. Potter on the back. "You'll show her."

Mr. Potter smiled. "Thanks. Come on, I was supposed to be down there right about now..."

We wove through the crowds and through the golden gates. I was trying my hardest not to lose Mr. Potter in the crowd, which was difficult because I was being jostled quite a bit. I chanced a glance around, though, and saw we were in a smaller, circular room. There were lifts on all sides, and Mr. Potter headed straight for the nearest one.

After a minute or so, a lift appeared, and I got swept on with Mr. Potter, James, Rose, and Mr. Weasley, along with several other witches and wizards. The lift began to descend, and I found myself wishing I had stayed at the Potters with Albus. Maybe that was more boring, but it was also a lot less nerve-wracking. And Albus was probably having a terrible time, too, all alone.

"Department of Mysteries," a cool female voice said. It sounded like her voice was coming from all around, but I didn't have time to wonder at that, because Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter had already set off, out of the lift, and we had to sprint to keep up with them.

We followed them down another flight of steps, and through corridors that looked like they belonged more in a dungeon than a government building. But perhaps it was a dungeon. I shuddered and quickened my pace.

"Courtroom 10," Mr. Potter said, coming to a halt outside a large wooden door with an iron lock. "You four go on in. I've got to go speak to Wren."

Mr. Weasley nodded and pushed the old door open, and led the way inside.

The large dungeon we'd entered was enormous. Benches rose high up the walls, and Mr. Weasley led us behind a short barrier to seats on the fourth row from the floor. The ceiling towered above us, and it was rather dark in the room, which was lit only by torches. A single chair sat in the middle of the room, with chains covering the arms. I glanced uneasily at James.

"There's the Wizengamot," Rose whispered, probably trying to calm herself down more than help me. She pointed to a group of wizards and witches seated directly across from the door, in plum-colored robes. A silver W was embroidered where a pocket would have been if it was a normal shirt. All of them looked grim.

Rose was rattling off facts about the Wizengamot under her breath, so I turned to James. "Where's the Minister?"

"There." He pointed to a woman in the center of the first bench the Wizengamot was sitting on. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she looked quite harsh. I suddenly began to realize why everyone seemed to think she'd be a big obstacle in this.

"She must be residing over this," James said worriedly. "I don't think that's normal."

"Who normally would?"

"The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Some stuffy old wizard named Doge." He shrugged. "Never met him. I think that's him, though." James pointed to an ancient wizard sitting next to the Minister. He looked like small gust of wind would blow him down, as if he might crumble at a touch.

"They say he's getting batty," James whispered. "Dad always says that's codswallop, of course, but he does look ancient, doesn't he?"

"Quite," I agreed.

The benches we were in seemed reserved for witnesses and their families. All of my classmates who had been attacked first year were seated around me, though few were talking. I didn't know why the Ministry thought it was necessary to drag all of them through this. After all, they hadn't seen her, or been able to identify her, and it happened the same way each time. James and I could have told them exactly what had happened to Rose, and it would have worked well for everyone else, too, except perhaps Elias Brown (because that was the time Wren had claimed her memory had been wiped).

The muttering of the crowd grew loud as moments grew into minutes. James was checking his watch ("They've only got half a minute; where are they?") when the door opened and Mr. Potter stepped through.

Silence fell almost immediately. I felt my heart rate quickening, and held my breath along with everyone else in the room as a small figure followed him.

Wren was as thin and small as I remembered, though of course, I felt like I'd seen her only a few weeks ago. So she'd probably grown, I just couldn't tell. She looked well-taken care of, at least, which put me at ease. At least my more recent dreams had truly been nightmares, then.

She was staring at the floor as she followed Mr. Potter to the chair in the center of the room. I couldn't be sure, but it looked like she was shaking. I glanced at James, who looked like he wanted to vault over the benches in front of us and go comfort her, and placed a hand on his arm. "Don't do anything stupid," I whispered.

The chains remained stationary as Wren sat down. She glanced at them uneasily, then down at her shoes. Mr. Potter turned to smile pleasantly up at the Minister.

"Good morning, Hestia. Lovely to see you again."

"Let us begin," Hestia Carrow said, completely ignoring him. Her voice rang out loudly in the large dungeon. She even sounded harsh.

"Criminal trial of the tenth of August," Carrow said loudly. "On charges of use of the Unforgivable Curses on minors by Wren Amerda Predatel."

I tuned out as she listed the interrogators and witnesses and everything else. I was watching Wren, hoping she'd look up, but she didn't. She didn't move much beyond occasionally glancing at Mr. Potter.

"—before fleeing and becoming a fugitive of the law, performed the Cruciatus Curse on eleven students in the school year of 2017 through 2018, with full knowledge of the fact that it was illegal." Carrow took a breath, then frowned down at Wren. "You are Wren Amerda Predatel?"

"Yes," she said, her voice a barely audible squeak as she finally looked up at the Minister.

"You are aware that it is internationally illegal to use the Unforgivable Curses on any human?"

"Yes."

"And yet you used the Cruciatus Curse on Rose Weasley, Andrew Longbottom, Trilia Bones, Elias Brown, Clarissa Rogers, Leah and Lacy Macmillian, Colin Creevey, Elizabeth Finch-Fletchley, Robby Thomas, and Luna Scamander?"

She glanced at Mr. Potter. "Well, yes..."

"And when two of your classmates attempted to stop you, you ran away?"

"Yes, but—"

"And for the past two years you have been with your mother and father?"

Wren didn't answer.

Hestia narrowed her eyes. "You are required to answer our questions, under the law. What have you been doing for the past two years?"

Wren stared down at her hands, and didn't say anything. I saw Mr. Potter frowning, and whispering to her. She shook her head a little.

Pouri, who I hadn't noticed before because he'd been standing in the shadows by the door, stepped forward. "Can we request a break?"

"She's worried that some of what she says may leak back to her parents, and they'll try to retaliate," Mr. Potter said quickly. "Can we have a few minutes?"

Carrow looked quite put out, but gave in. I wasn't sure what was really going on, but anyone who refused that request would look pretty heartless, and Carrow probably didn't want to start out her time as Minister that way.

To my surprise, Pouri didn't follow Mr. Potter and Wren out the door. Instead, he started into the seats, towards... Us.

"Ron, Astra and James need to come with me, quickly," our headmaster told Mr. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley blinked. "What? Why?"

"They're probably the only people here who can convince her to talk. At least, we're hoping they'll be able to," he said, motioning urgently for us to stand up. "I'll bring them back in a few minutes."

James and I quickly followed Pouri out of the courtroom and down the corridor to a room at the far end of the hall. The door was open, and as we reached it, Mr. Potter stepped out.

He smiled at us. "Just try to convince her to talk. She needs to at least try."

James and I exchanged a glance as we were ushered into the room, and the door was closed behind us. This was not at all what I'd expected to be doing today. I was not at all prepared for this.

Wren was sitting on a chair, staring at the floor, avoiding our gaze. Two more chairs faced her, and James and I slowly sat down. The room we were in was fairly small, and I had a feeling it was normally used for interrogations or something.

"Hey, Wren," James said, smiling a little and scooting a bit closer. Wren shrank back a bit, and James frowned at me. "Um... How are you?"

Wren didn't answer that, and didn't look up. I sighed. "Listen, Wren, you've got to tell them what's happened to you, all right?"

Again, she didn't answer. What she did do was start crying. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

I glanced at James, alarmed. What on earth were we supposed to do? My first instinct was to go put my arm around her, but I somehow felt that she'd only pull away.

"It's okay, Wren," James said after a moment. "It wasn't your fault. You were forced to do it. If you tell them you were under the Imperius Curse—"

"I wasn't, though." She wiped at the tears and tried to compose herself. "Not the whole time. So that's not true. I've done enough lying."

"You were forced to do it, though, right?" James persevered.

After a moment, she nodded, still not looking at us.

"Well, then you'll have to tell them that you were under the Imperius Curse or they'll say you chose to do it."

There was a pause while she considered that. Finally, she whispered, "All right."

James grinned at me, then turned back to her. "And you should tell them what's happened to you over the past two years. They'll need to know. They need to catch the people behind this."

"I can't do that."

"Why?" I asked automatically.

"I just..." She shook her head. "I can't."

I felt my heart drop. I glanced over at James helplessly, expecting to see my hopeless feelings mirrored in his face. If she wouldn't even tell us why she didn't want to, what chance did we have of swaying her? Strangely, James looked even more determined. "Wren, look at me."

Slowly, she turned her gaze from the floor to him, looking up for the first time since we'd entered the room. Her eyes had a fear I'd only seen in them once before, for only an instant, after the Christmas holidays first year. I had to wonder if that fear had become normal now.

"Wren, they can't hurt you now," James said firmly, leaning forward in his chair. Wren flinched but didn't move away this time. "The aurors can make sure of that. Just tell them what you know."

She stared at him for a minute, then shook her head. "It's not me I'm worried about, James. They'll... They'll kill my parents..."

"Who's 'they'?" he asked. Wren shook her head.

"Did you answer a lot of questions when they found you?" I asked, frowning. "Muggles always ask those sort of questions in interrogations."

Wren nodded. "I wish I hadn't."

"But surely there's a copy of the interrogation," I said. "Or—"

"A memory!" James exclaimed. He quickly turned to Wren. "Who interrogated you?"

"M-Mr. Potter..."

"Even better." James grinned. "I'll be right back." With that, he jumped up and ran out of the room, leaving us alone.

I turned back to Wren, unsure what to say. She was studying the floor again. After a second, she asked, "You don't hate me?"

"Of course not." I frowned. "Why would I?"

Wren looked up, and we both knew exactly why anyone would hate her. She'd lied to me. She'd used the Cruciatus Curse on our friends, even if she hadn't wanted to. She hadn't tried to get help, to stop this. She'd run away. But she was still my friend. I couldn't explain it, but I knew that she hadn't wanted to do any of that, and I didn't see why I should hate her for something she apparently already hated herself for.

"What did they do to you?" I found myself whispering. This girl in front of me was Wren, but she wasn't. Wren was always smiling. Wren was happy. Wren wasn't broken. If I hated anyone, I hated the people who had changed her.

"Please, don't," Wren whispered, shaking her head quickly. "I-I can't."

Some people always know what to say. Some people could have said the exact thing that would make Wren feel better, to let her know everything was all right (even if it wasn't). I'm not one of those people, and I never was, so I had to content myself with sitting in silence, waiting for James to come back.

When he did, he wasn't alone. Mr. Potter walked through the door, smiling widely. "Wren, we may just have a chance."

Professor Pouri took us back to Mr. Weasley while Mr. Potter had a quiet discussion with the Minister and a few other prestigious-looking witches and wizards. James quickly filled me in.

Mr. Potter was going to show his memories of the interrogation to a select group of trustworthy people. This would be considered evidence that wasn't available to the public, and would hopefully preserve Wren from whatever backlash there might be from her parents and whoever was above them. It would also help to clear her name, because, according to James, Mr. Potter had said that Wren's account had lined up exactly with the little they'd seen, and she hadn't done anything terrible except at wand point. With that, and claiming that she was under the Imperius Curse, Carrow would be hard-pressed to find something against her.

The select few important people left with Mr. Potter, and were gone a good half an hour. During that time, James and I tried to calm Rose down. She was making herself sick dreading when she'd have to testify.

Finally, someone called for order as the Minister and the others say back down. We watched as each of my friends testified. Rose was first, and when it was over she was as pale as a sheet and simply whispered that it had been the worst moment of her life.

James and I were called up one after the other. If James felt nervous as he talked, he didn't show it. He answered the questions with a smile and even made a few jokes, much to Carrow's annoyance and everyone else's amusement. I was glad to see that I didn't feel half as bad as I had earlier, and when it was my turn, managed to smile up at the Wizengamot.

"You are Astra Lestrange?" Carrow asked.

"Yes," I said steadily. There was a great deal of muttering, and I squirmed a little in my seat. I caught sight of Wren staring at me in shock.

"How many times did you and James Potter witness an attack?"

"Three. Rose, Clarissa, and Luna."

"And what happened?"

"We scared her off the first two times, but the third, James and I chased her."

"Her, as in Wren?"

"Obviously."

There was a little laughter, though Carrow simply glared at me. "This is a court, Miss Lestrange. I would advise you to be respectful." She sighed. "You 'chased her,' then, did you?"

"Yes, and she ran to the Room of Requirement. You know, the room in Hog—"

"We are all acquainted with the Room of Requirement," Carrow said coldly.

"Right, sorry." I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, James asked her who she was, because she was still wearing the cloak, and she pulled it off. She tried to cast the Cruciatus Curse on James, but she couldn't do it."

"How do you know she didn't simply want you to think that?" a wizard on the second row asked.

"Well..." I shrugged. How many times had I asked myself that question? "At some point, there are things you can't fake. And... That was one of them." I shrugged again. "I can't really explain it. I guess you had to actually see it."

"I'm sure. And you were Wren's best friend while she was at Hogwarts, weren't you?" the Minister asked.

I nodded. "One of them. The other was Albus."

Carrow ignored the last part. "You don't think this attachment could cause you to be biased in the defendant's favor?"

I glanced over at Wren. "No. I hated her right then. I didn't think I'd ever forgive her. I certainly wasn't seeing her in any favorable light." Wren was staring at the ground again.

Carrow frowned. The witch next to her piped up, "Would you say that Wren was under the Imperius Curse when she tortured Luna Scamander?"

I dearly prayed they didn't notice me tensing up. I had to say yes. But how could she be out of it by the time she'd reached the Room of Requirement? "Yes, I think she was."

"And was she still under it when you and James Potter caught up to her?"

I did some very quick thinking. "No, she wasn't. I think... I'm not sure, because I don't quite know what that would look like, but it seemed like she'd come out from under it, fought it off or something, when we'd reached her." I glanced at Mr. Potter, who was beaming.

Carrow nodded. "Thank you, that will be all."

I was quite happy to join James and Rose back on our bench. Rose smiled at me and whispered, "Good job," as I sat down.

Wren was back in the chair. The entire Wizengamot frowned down on her. The wizard on the second row asked, "Wren Predatel, is it true that you were under the Imperius Curse each time you attacked one of your fellow students?"

She nodded, glancing quickly in our direction.

"And who cast the curse on you?"

"I... I don't know. Professor Sulcan, I expect." She looked down. "I-I didn't know he was working with my parents. I didn't know who my parents really were, actually."

The Wizengamot muttered a bit. Mr. Potter took the opportunity to step forward. "Really, this has to be looked at logically. How could Wren, an eleven-year-old girl, have performed the Cruciatus Curse on eleven people and evaded capture for months on end? She couldn't have, unless she was only being used."

"But why would Vincent Sulcan use her when he could have easily done it himself?" the witch to Carrow's right asked.

"Simple. He wanted to maintain his job. He knew this girl was the daughter of his colleagues, and if anyone could afford it be found out, it was her over him, because she was simply a girl, and rather disposable. Not to mention the fact that his height would have narrowed the options for suspects dramatically. Perhaps the Predatels simply wanted heir daughter forced into the family business. What we do know is that Sulcan has confessed to using the Imperius Curse on her."

"He could have been lying!"

"But why would he? He's rotting away in Azkaban. It's no difference to him if this girl joins him or not." Mr. Potter smiled. "No, I think it's quite clear. Wren did not do any of this on her own. She wasn't even in control of herself when she was made to cast the curse. She can't be blamed."

The Wizengamot murmured even more. Carrow glanced around, looking like she'd just eaten a lemon. "Well, I think we've seen enough. All in favor of conviction?" Her hand was already raised, and I felt my heart stop as we waited to see who would join her.

~~~~

Question of the Day: Do you think the Wizengamot will rule guilty or innocent? In your personal opinion, is Wren innocent or guilty?

Vote and comment! Sorry for the cliffhanger, but you know me! I can't resist.

~Ellie