HARRY:

My eyes snapped open the morning of my hearing, and for a moment, I let myself linger in my dread. Then the moment passed, and fear propelled me out of bed with the speed of a Golden Snitch. I hurriedly changed into jeans and a T-shirt and slipped out of the room, careful not to wake Ron. I knew it was practically impossible to wake him anyway; he was almost as deep a sleeper as Lucy, who I fervently hoped was still sound asleep down the hall.

She wasn't. She was at the kitchen table, twirling a quill around her fingers as she stared blankly at the stacks of envelopes and parchment in front of her, Tuck snoring at her feet.

Tonks was there too, next to Professor Lupin, who was next to Sirius. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were across the table, and it appeared that the empty seat between Mr. Weasley and Lucy was intended for me.

Sirius grinned when he saw me observing the scene from the doorway. "She claimed she wanted to get an early start on replying to her fan mail, but when she started glancing over her shoulder every thirty seconds, we reckoned she just wanted to see you off."

Lucy snapped from her daze and turned to face me, pale cheeks flushing a bit. "It's not fan mail, but... I thought today would be a good day to try to get through all of these," she said, gesturing to the envelopes.

I tried to eat as conversation swirled around the table. I found it hard to pay attention until I was addressed directly.

"How are you feeling?" Mr. Weasley asked.

I shrugged in response, knowing I wouldn't be able to talk around the anxious lump in my throat.

"It'll all be over soon. In a few hours' time you'll be cleared. The hearing's on my floor, in Amelia Bones's office. She's Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and she's the one who'll be questioning you."

Tonks nodded. "Amelia Bones is okay, Harry. She's fair, she'll hear you out."

"She's the one who ultimately got everyone to just read the report and drop my charges," Lucy added quietly. I blinked at her, surprised. Lucy? Charges? What did she do? But she offered no further explanation, so I glanced away.

"Don't lose your temper. Be polite and stick to the facts," Sirius advised.

"The law's on your side. Even underage wizards are allowed to use magic in life-threatening situations," Professor Lupin said with a sigh.

Mrs. Weasley started running a wet comb through my hair, but it was no use. "Doesn't it ever lie flat?"

I shook my head.

"Hey, Harry," Lucy said suddenly, passing me a letter. "Want to read Fleur's letter? There's something in here she intended for me to share with you."

"Sure," I said. I unfolded the piece of parchment and did my best to decipher the flowery handwriting.

Dearest Lucy,

   How are you? This summer has not been terribly kind to you, but I hope you are doing well nonetheless.

   I have good news! I will be moving to England! I got a job at Gringotts, and I am hoping to improve my English. I will have to tell you all about my new job when I see you again, which is hopefully sooner than later because I will be so close.

   I thought you might like to know that Maxence made the ultimate fool out of himself upon our return to Beauxbatons. Those Galleons Draco Malfoy gave him in February? He had a bit too much firewhisky and decided it would be a good idea to play Exploding Écarté on our last night at school. He lost it all in a bet. Karma is funny, is it not?

   (You may want to tell Harry this also. I am sure he will appreciate it. I will never forget the impressive way Harry yanked him away from the tent while you were in there. He might hate Maxence even more than I do.)

   In all seriousness, I am always just a letter away if you ever need anything at all. Your brother was a great friend to me, and I know how terribly you must miss him. I cannot imagine life without my Gabrielle. She sends her regards as well.

      Love always, Fleur Delacour

Despite the fact that three minutes prior I had been sick to my stomach with anxiety, I had to stifle a laugh reading the section of the letter about Maxence. The bloody fool deserved it.

Lucy almost smiled. "Thought you'd appreciate that. But what did she mean about the tent? You never told me anything about that."

I shook my head. "Git. He tried to head into the tent after the second task. I, er, made sure he didn't. You were a bit distracted, so you didn't notice."

"A bit distracted," she echoed with a slight nod. She took the letter back and looked at me with that gaze that saw straight through me for a moment. "You don't have to be nervous, Harry. Everything will work out one way or another. I don't think they'll expel you, but if they do, I'll go get myself expelled too, and we can be delinquents together, running secret missions for the Order and causing all sorts of trouble for the Ministry."

I couldn't help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of her suggestion. "I don't think that's how it works-"

"No, of course that's not how it works," she said with another almost-smile. She poked my chest. "That's why you have to get off. Alright?"

"I'll do my best," I replied.

Mr. Weasley glanced at his watch. "I think we'll go now. We're a bit early, but I think you'll be better off there than hanging around here."

I nodded and rose to my feet, heading toward the door.

"You'll be alright, Harry!" Tonks called encouragingly.

Professor Lupin nodded. "Good luck, but I'm sure it will be fine."

"And if it's not, I'll see to Amelia Bones for you, and I'll let Lucy help so she gets expelled too," Sirius added with a wink. Lucy nodded

My stomach fluttered with nerves again, but I offered a smile just before Mrs. Weasley hugged me in the doorway.

I glanced at Lucy one last time. I knew that the way she had wrapped her arms around her waist meant she was worried, but she tried to offer me as much hope as she could — I also knew that hope was something in short supply for her those days. "See you later, alright?"

"See you later, Lu."

When she reached for her quill, I could see her hand trembling even from where I stood on the other side of the room.

I was reminded once again of my last promise to Cedric.

I have to get off. For Lucy, if nothing and no one else.

I followed Mr. Weasley down the hallway out to the street, and with that, my day began.

Mr. Weasley said he typically apparated to work, so he gazed around with wonder at the streets and the trains and the automatic ticket machines and the Muggles everywhere.

Eventually, we reached an old red telephone booth, and the two of us crammed ourselves into it.

Mr. Weasley reached forward and studied the dial. "Let's see... six, two, four... and another four... and another two..."

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business," a female voice said.

"Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, here to escort Harry Potter, who has been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing."

"Thank you. Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

A couple of seconds later, a badge reading Harry Potter, Disciplinary Hearing appeared in the coin catcher. My hands trembled as I tried to attach it, and I found myself understanding a little better why Lucy got so frustrated with her shaking hands.

"Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

Then we began to descend, like in a lift.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," the voice said when we reached the bottom and the door popped open.

My nerves took a backseat to my wonder for a second as I glanced around at the Ministry of Magic, all shades of blue and gold with people milling in every direction. I followed Mr. Weasley through the crowd until we reached the security desk.

"I'm escorting a visitor," Mr. Weasley said to the wizard sitting behind it.

He glanced up from his copy of the Daily Prophet and rose to his feet.

"Step over here." When I complied, he waved a golden rod up and down my front and back, then held out a hand. "Wand."

I drew it, hand still shaking, and he set my wand onto something that looked rather like a scale. A piece of parchment popped out after a moment.

"Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use four years. That correct?"

I nodded. "Yes." Holly wood, as well, I added to myself. My wand meant a lot to me.

"I keep the parchment, you get the wand back," he said, passing it back to me. He froze, glancing between my badge and my forehead. "Hang on..."

Mr. Weasley pulled me away before he could say another word. Eventually we reached a series of lifts, and Mr. Weasley headed over to a man who was holding a cardboard box that seemed to be making more noise than a typical cardboard box.

"Alright, Arthur?" the wizard asked.

"What've you got there, Bob?" Mr. Weasley inquired in response.

The wizard lifted the box with a sigh. "We're not sure. We thought it was a bog-standard chicken until it started breathing fire. Looks like a serious breach of the Ban on Experimental Breeding to me."

I suddenly had to suppress a smile as we stepped onto the lift. I have to tell Lucy about that when I get back.

Eventually, a voice announced, "Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services."

"This is us, Harry, my office is on the other side of the floor."

As I followed Mr. Weasley into the hallway, I couldn't help but notice that the sun was shining through the windows. "Mr. Weasley, aren't we underground?"

"Yes, we are, those are enchanted windows; Magical Maintenance decide what weather we're getting every day. We had two months of hurricanes last time they were angling for a pay raise. Just round here, Harry."

We made our way to the Auror Headquarters, where we were stopped by Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Morning, Weasley. I've been wanting a word with you, have you got a second?"

"Yes, if it really is a second, I'm in rather a hurry."

I opened my mouth to say hello, but Mr. Weasley stepped on my toes. Right. They're not supposed to know each other as well as they do.

When we reached his cubicle, I blinked in shock. Sirius's face was everywhere. Right. He's still a wanted criminal.

Kingsley passed Mr. Weasley a stack of parchment. "Here. I need as much information as possible on flying Muggle vehicles sighted in the last twelve months. We've received information that Black might still be using his old motorcycle." He winked at me before whispering, "Give him the magazine, he might find it interesting." He straightened up and spoke normally again. "And don't take too long, Weasley, the delay on that firelegs report held our investigation up for a month."

"If you had read my report you would know that the term is 'firearms.' And I'm afraid you'll have to wait for information on motorcycles, we're extremely busy at the moment." Then he whispered, "If you can get away before seven, Molly's making meatballs."

From there, we headed to Mr. Weasley's office, which contained two desks and a number of posters and diagrams revealing Mr. Weasley's love of all things Muggle.

"We haven't got a window. We've asked, but they don't seem to think we need one. Have a seat, Harry, doesn't look as if Perkins is in yet."

I slid into the chair belonging to Perkins and watched as Mr. Weasley shuffled through the parchment in search of whatever magazine was there for Sirius. He smiled as he pulled out of a copy of The Quibbler, the magazine Lucy had been reading the night I figured out the golden egg clue. Merlin, that felt like a lifetime ago. I wondered if I'd ever have another midnight adventure around the castle, and I felt a pang in my chest when I realized I might not.

"Ah, yes. Yes, he's right, I'm sure Sirius will find that very amusing — oh dear, what's this now?"

A memo flew into the room, and Mr. Weasley snatched it from the air.

"'Third regurgitating public toilet reported in Bethnal Green, kindly investigate immediately.' This is getting ridiculous!"

I blinked. "A regurgitating toilet?"

Mr. Weasley sighed. "Anti-Muggle pranksters. We had two last week, one in Wimbledon, one in Elephant and Castle. Muggles are pulling the flush and instead of everything disappearing — well, you can imagine. The poor things keep calling in those — those pumbles, I think they're called — you know, the ones who mend pipes and things?"

"Plumbers?"

"Exactly! Yes, but of course they're flummoxed. I only hope we can catch whoever's doing it."

"Will it be Aurors who catch them?"

"Oh no, this is too trivial for Aurors, it'll be the ordinary Magical Law Enforcement Patrol — ah, Harry, this is Perkins."

Perkins burst into the office, looking thoroughly distressed. "Oh Arthur! Thank goodness, I didn't know what to do for the best, whether to wait here for you or not, I've just sent an owl to your home but you've obviously missed it — an urgent message came ten minutes ago-"

"I know about the regurgitating toilet-"

"No, no, it's not the toilet, it's the Potter boy's hearing, they've changed the time and venue, it starts at eight o'clock now and it's down in old Courtroom Ten-"

"Down in old — but they told me — Merlin's beard!"

I jumped to my feet, molten panic coursing through me.

Mr. Weasley glanced at his watch. "Quick, Harry, we should have been there five minutes ago!"

He sprinted from the office, and I followed as best I could. "Why have they changed the time?"

"I've no idea, but thank goodness we got here so early, if you'd missed it it would have been catastrophic!" he panted as we skidded into a lift. "Those courtrooms haven't been used in years! I can't think why they're doing it down there — unless — but no..."

The lift stopped at the Department of Mysteries, and Mr. Weasley took off at a run again, throwing open a door that revealed a flight of stairs.

"Down here, down here, the lift doesn't even come down this far, why they're doing it there is beyond me..."

We raced along a dark and cold corridor until Mr. Weasley skidded to a stop and pointed at a door. "Go on, get in there."

I froze. "Aren't you coming with-"

"No, no, I'm not allowed. Good luck!"

I opened the door with a violently trembling hand, feeling quite sick to my stomach.

"You're late," a cold voice announced.

"Sorry, I-I didn't know the time had changed-"

"That is not the Wizengamot's fault. An owl was sent to you this morning. Take your seat."

As I walked to my seat, I studied the room. I had been there once before, sort of, in Dumbledore's Pensieve. Once I had lowered myself into the seat, I let myself look up at the fifty or so people in the benches above me.

Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, was scowling at me from the front row. I had never seen such an expression on his face. In my past experiences, he had often smiled at me like I was a prize he wanted to win. But in that moment, he looked at me like I was a bug he hoped to squash under his heavy boot.

Two witches sat on either side of him, one with a monocle and one whose face was hidden.

Fudge sighed. "Very well. The accused being present — finally — let us begin. Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir!" said none other than Percy Weasley, who wasn't looking at me. His quill was held over his parchment, ready to write down every word that was said.

Fudge's booming voice filled the room. "Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley-"

"Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," a voice behind me said.

I whipped my head around to see Dumbledore approaching, eyes fixed on Fudge. I felt some of the knots of anxiety within me loosen at the sight of him.

Fudge, however, seemed to be feeling exactly the opposite way. "Ah. Dumbledore. Yes. You — er — got our — er — message that the time and — er — place of the hearing had been changed, then?"

"I must have missed it. However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done."

"Yes — well — I suppose we'll need another chair — I — Weasley, could you-"

"Not to worry, not to worry," Dumbledore said. With a flick of his wand, another chair appeared.

Fudge was still incredibly flustered as he read the charges. "The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy. You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?"

"Yes."

"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?"

"Yes, but-"

"And yet you conjured a patronus on the night of the second of August?"

"Yes, but-"

"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?"

"Yes, but-"

"Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?"

"Yes, but-"

"Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?"

"Yes, but I only used it because we were-"

The witch with the monocle interrupted me that time. "You produced a fully fledged patronus?"

"Yes, because-"

"A corporeal patronus? It had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapor or smoke?"

I nodded fervently. "Yes, it's a stag, it's always a stag."

"Always? You have produced a Patronus before now?"

"Yes, I've been doing it for over a year-"

"And you are fifteen years old?"

"Yes, and-"

"You learned this at school?"

"Yes, Professor Lupin taught me in my third year, and my friend Lucy Diggory too, because of the-"

"Impressive. A true patronus at that age... very impressive indeed."

There was a brief pause. I tried to take a deep breath, but frustration and exasperation and desperation had wrapped hot coils around my chest.

Fudge shook his head. "It's not a question of how impressive the magic was. In fact, the more impressive the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the boy did it in plain view of a Muggle!"

"I did it because of the dementors!" I burst out, so no one would dare to interrupt me again.

The monocled witch, who I guessed must have been Amelia Bones, raised her eyebrows. "Dementors? What do you mean, boy?"

"I mean there were two dementors down that alleyway and they went for me and my cousin!"

Fudge smirked. "Ah. Yes. Yes, I thought we'd be hearing something like this."

Madam Bones sounded rather surprised. "Dementors in Little Whinging? I don't understand-"

"Don't you, Amelia? Let me explain. He's been thinking it through and decided dementors would make a very nice little cover story, very nice indeed. Muggles can't see dementors, can they, boy? Highly convenient, highly convenient, so it's just your word and no witnesses."

I shook my head. "I'm not lying! There were two of them, coming from opposite ends of the alley, everything went dark and cold and my cousin felt them and ran for it-"

"Enough, enough!" Fudge shouted with a wave of his hand. "I'm sorry to interrupt what I'm sure would have been a very well-rehearsed story-"

Just then, Dumbledore cleared his throat, and silence fell. "We do, in fact, have a witness to the presence of dementors in that alleyway. Other than Dudley Dursley, I mean."

"We haven't got time to listen to more taradiddles, I'm afraid, Dumbledore. I want this dealt with quickly-"

"I may be wrong but I am sure that under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the accused has the right to present witnesses for his or her case? Isn't that the policy of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones?"

"True, perfectly true," she said.

"Oh, very well, very well. Where is this person?" Fudge growled.

"I brought her with me. She's just outside the door. Should I-"

"No. Weasley, you go."

Percy jumped up from his seat and hurried to the door. Mrs. Figg entered the room then. Dumbledore gave her his chair and conjured up another one for himself.

"Full name?" Fudge asked.

"Arabella Doreen Figg."

"And who exactly are you?"

"I'm a resident of Little Whinging, close to where Harry Potter lives."

Madam Bones furrowed her brow. "We have no record of any witch or wizard living in Little Whinging other than Harry Potter. That situation has always been closely monitored, given... given past events."

"I'm a Squib, so you wouldn't have me registered, would you?"

Fudge narrowed his eyes. "A Squib, eh? We'll be checking that. You'll leave details of your parentage with my assistant, Weasley. Incidentally, can Squibs see dementors?"

"Yes, we can!"

"Very well. What is your story?"

"I had gone out to buy cat food from the corner shop at the end of Wisteria Walk, shortly after nine on the evening of the second of August when I heard a disturbance down the alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. On approaching the mouth of the alleyway I saw dementors running-"

"Running? Dementors don't run, they glide," Madam Bones interrupted.

"That's what I meant to say, gliding along the alley toward what looked like two boys."

"What did they look like?"

"Well, one was very large and the other one rather skinny-"

"No, no, the dementors. Describe them."

"Oh. They were big. Big and wearing cloaks."

"Big and wearing cloaks. I see. Anything else?"

"Yes. I felt them. Everything went cold, and this was a very warm summer's night, mark you. And I felt as though all happiness had gone from the world, and I remembered... dreadful things."

For the first time, Madam Bones paused, a look of surprise on her face. "What did the dementors do?"

"They went for the boys. One of them had fallen. The other was backing away, trying to repel the dementor. That was Harry. He tried twice and produced silver vapor. On the third attempt, he produced a patronus, which charged down the first dementor and then, with his encouragement, chased away the second from his cousin. And that... that was what happened."

Fudge spoke next. "That's what you saw, is it?"

"That was what happened."

"Very well. You may go."

She hurried from the room, looking rather frightened.

Once the door closed behind her, Fudge declared, "Not a very convincing witness."

"Oh, I don't know. She certainly described the effects of a dementor attack very accurately. And I can't imagine why she would say they were there if they weren't," Madam Bones replied.

"But dementors wandering into a Muggle suburb and just happening to come across a wizard? The odds on that must be very, very long, even Bagman wouldn't have bet-"

"Oh, I don't think any of us believe the dementors were there by coincidence," Dumbledore interrupted in a deceptively pleasant voice.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I think they were ordered there."

"I think we might have a record of it if someone had ordered a pair of dementors to go strolling through Little Whinging!"

"Not if the dementors are taking orders from someone other than the Ministry of Magic these days. I have already given you my views on this matter, Cornelius."

"Yes, you have, and I have no reason to believe that your views are anything other than bilge, Dumbledore. The dementors remain in place in Azkaban and are doing everything we ask them to."

"Then we must ask ourselves why somebody within the Ministry ordered a pair of dementors into that alleyway on the second of August."

The woman on Fudge's right leaned forward so I could see her face for the first time. She looked rather like a toad.

"The Chair recognizes Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister," Fudge said.

Her voice was sickeningly sweet. "I'm sure I must have misunderstood you, Professor Dumbledore. So silly of me. But it sounded for a teensy moment as though you were suggesting that the Ministry of Magic had ordered an attack on this boy!"

She laughed, and a number of other witches and wizards joined her.

Dumbledore was unfazed. "If it is true that the dementors are taking orders only from the Ministry of Magic, and it is also true that two dementors attacked Harry and his cousin a week ago, then it follows logically that somebody at the Ministry might have ordered the attacks. Of course, these particular dementors may have been outside Ministry control-"

"There are no dementors outside Ministry control!" Fudge insisted.

"-then undoubtedly the Ministry will be making a full inquiry into why two dementors were so very far from Azkaban and why they attacked without authorization."

"It is not for you to decide what the Ministry of Magic does or does not do, Dumbledore!"

"Of course it isn't. I was merely expressing my confidence that this matter will not go uninvestigated."

"I would remind everybody that the behavior of these dementors, if indeed they are not figments of this boy's imagination, is not the subject of this hearing! We are here to examine Harry Potter's offenses under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery!"

"Of course we are, but the presence of dementors in that alleyway is highly relevant. Clause seven of the Decree states that magic may be used before Muggles in exceptional circumstances, and as those exceptional circumstances include situations that threaten the life of the wizard or witch himself, or witches, wizards, or Muggles present at the time of the-"

"We are familiar with clause seven, thank you very much!"

"Of course you are. Then we are in agreement that Harry's use of the Patronus Charm in these circumstances falls precisely into the category of exceptional circumstances it describes?"

"If there were dementors, which I doubt-"

"You have heard from an eyewitness. If you still doubt her truthfulness, call her back, question her again. I am sure she would not object."

"I — that — not — it's — I want this over with today, Dumbledore!"

"But naturally, you would not care how many times you heard from a witness, if the alternative was a serious miscarriage of justice."

"Serious miscarriage, my hat! Have you ever bothered to tot up the number of cock-and-bull stories this boy has come out with, Dumbledore, while trying to cover up his flagrant misuse of magic out of school? I suppose you've forgotten the Hover Charm he used three years ago-"

I shook my head. "That wasn't me, it was a house-elf!"

"YOU SEE? A house-elf! In a Muggle house! I ask you-"

"The house-elf in question is currently in the employ of Hogwarts School. I can summon him here in an instant to give evidence if you wish," Dumbledore interrupted.

"I — not — I haven't got time to listen to house-elves! Anyway, that's not the only — he blew up his aunt, for God's sake!"

"And you very kindly did not press charges on that occasion, accepting, I presume, that even the best wizards cannot always control their emotions."

"And I haven't even started on what he gets up to at school-"

"But as the Ministry has no authority to punish Hogwarts students for misdemeanors at school, Harry's behavior there is not relevant to this inquiry."

"Oho! Not our business what he does at school, eh? You think so?"

"The Ministry does not have the power to expel Hogwarts students, Cornelius, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August. Nor does it have the right to confiscate wands until charges have been successfully proven, again, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August. In your admirable haste to ensure that the law is upheld, you appear, inadvertently I am sure, to have overlooked a few laws yourself."

"Laws can be changed."

"Of course they can, and you certainly seem to be making many changes, Cornelius. Why, in the few short weeks since I was asked to leave the Wizengamot, it has already become the practice to hold a full criminal trial to deal with a simple matter of underage magic!"

A heavy silence fell.

"As far as I am aware, however, there is no law yet in place that says this court's job is to punish Harry for every bit of magic he has ever performed. He has been charged with a specific offense and he has presented his defense. All he and I can do now is to await your verdict."

I glanced at Dumbledore, hoping he would meet my gaze, but he stared straight ahead. I felt a bit anxious at the urgency with which he wanted a verdict. I wasn't sure if I had given a good impression. I wasn't sure if they believed me yet. I couldn't be expelled. I couldn't risk being expelled.

The whispers swirled around the room. I studied my shoelaces. I knew I ought to be brave, to lift my head, to await their decision with confidence, but I couldn't.

The whispers stopped.

"Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?" came the voice of Madam Bones.

I glanced up, my anxiety reaching its peak. More than half of the hands were in the air.

"And those in favor of conviction?"

Fudge was the first to raise his hand. The toad-like woman on his right did as well. But there were very few others.

Fudge lowered his hand slowly. "Very well, very well... cleared of all charges."

Dumbledore jumped to his feet and vanished the chairs. "Excellent. Well, I must be getting along. Good day to you all."

And with that, he left the dungeon.

I remained in my chair for half a second longer. Stunned. Relieved.

I couldn't wait to tell Lucy.

I jumped to my feet and hurried from the room, nearly running into Mr. Weasley in my rush.

"Dumbledore didn't say-"

"Cleared of all charges!" I announced, smiling.

He grinned. "Harry, that's wonderful! Well, of course, they couldn't have found you guilty, not on the evidence, but even so, I can't pretend I wasn't-" The door behind me opened, and everyone who had tried me started leaving. "Merlin's beard, you were tried by the full court?"

"I think so," I admitted.

Everyone glanced at us as they passed, some looking friendlier than others. Last of everyone was Percy. I thought that he'd just walk past and ignore us, the way he'd ignored me in the trial, but he paused briefly, looking over his shoulder to make sure nobody else was around to see or hear him.

"How is Lucy?" he asked in a low voice.

"She'll be glad to hear I got off," I replied with a passive-aggressive shrug.

Percy winced as if I'd struck him across the face.

"She's alright, Percy," Mr. Weasley said, his voice strained. "She's safe, and that's what matters."

Percy glanced around again before lowering his voice further. "Listen... her name is controversial in my circles. You only ever hear it whispered, never spoken aloud. There's a bit of a fight going on, see, with three sides. A number of people would like to pretend nothing happened and blame it all on the same Death Eaters from the Quidditch World Cup, since their tent was attacked then. A number of people believe it really was You-Know-Who, and a number of people who think it was all a stunt by Dumbledore to try to push his agenda. And that third group of people is growing by the day, since the report you gave was so vague-"

"What are you trying to say, Percy?" Mr. Weasley pressed. "That report was intentionally vague, she is still a child and her privacy deserves to be protected-"

"I know, I know. I'm trying to say she needs to keep her head down. The Minister himself is of the opinion that we should pretend nothing happened and not investigate further, so as long as she stays out of trouble, this should all blow over soon."

"What if she doesn't want to pretend that nothing happened?" I burst out. "What if she wants answers about why her entire family is dead now?"

Percy looked pained. "I just want what's best for her. And I think the less trouble she attracts, the better off she'll be."

With that, he turned on his heel and hurried away. Mr. Weasley and I watched him go in silence, lost in our own thoughts. After a long moment, Mr. Weasley turned to me with a smile, gesturing for me to follow him up the stairs.

"I'm going to take you straight back so you can tell the others the good news. I'll drop you off on the way to that toilet in Bethnal Green. Come on."

I smiled too, the whole toilet situation suddenly striking me as funny. I'm going back to Hogwarts, with Ron and Hermione and Lucy. Lucy never gets in trouble there. She's the quietest and least problematic of all of us, she'll be fine. "So what will you have to do about the toilet?"

"Oh, it's a simple enough anti-jinx, but it's not so much having to repair the damage, it's more the attitude behind the vandalism, Harry. Muggle-baiting might strike some wizards as funny, but it's an expression of something much deeper and nastier, and I for one-"

We froze when we saw Cornelius Fudge talking to none other than Lucius Malfoy.

"Well, well, well... Patronus Potter," Malfoy said.

I suddenly found it hard to breathe. He had been there that night in the graveyard. My hands curled into fists as anger surged through me.

"The Minister was just telling me about your lucky escape, Potter. Quite astonishing, the way you continue to wriggle out of very tight holes. Snakelike, in fact."

Mr. Weasley's hand found my shoulder, giving it a warning squeeze.

"Yeah, I'm good at escaping," I replied. I tried to force away the images from the graveyard. The flash of green that took Cedric away from his sister. Malfoy's cold eyes behind a Death Eater mask, watching as I was tortured. My escape via Portkey.

"And Arthur Weasley too! What are you doing here, Arthur?"

"I work here," Mr. Weasley replied simply.

"Not here, surely? I thought you were up on the second floor. Don't you do something that involves sneaking Muggle artifacts home and bewitching them?"

"No."

"What are you doing here anyway?" I asked.

"I don't think private matters between myself and the Minister are any concern of yours, Potter. Really, just because you are Dumbledore's favorite boy, you must not expect the same indulgence from the rest of us. Shall we go up to your office, then, Minister?"

Fudge blinked and turned on his heel. "Certainly. This way, Lucius."

As soon as the door to the lift closed, I couldn't keep my mouth shut any longer. "Why wasn't he waiting outside Fudge's office if they've got business to do together? What was he doing down here?"

"Trying to sneak down to the courtroom, if you ask me. Trying to find out whether you'd been expelled or not. I'll leave a note for Dumbledore when I drop you off, he ought to know Malfoy's been talking to Fudge again."

"What private business have they got together anyway?"

"Gold, I expect. Malfoy's been giving generously to all sorts of things for years. Gets him in with the right people, then he can ask favors, delay laws he doesn't want passed. He's very well connected, Lucius Malfoy."

"Mr. Weasley... if Fudge is meeting Death Eaters like Malfoy, if he's seeing them alone, how do we know they haven't put the Imperius Curse on him?"

He sighed. "Don't think it hadn't occurred to us, Harry. But Dumbledore thinks Fudge is acting of his own accord at the moment — which, as Dumbledore says, is not a lot of comfort. Best not talk about it anymore just now, Harry."

Soon enough, I was in the kitchen again, feeling far lighter than I had been feeling a few hours prior.

"Cleared of all charges," I announced with a smile.

Ron whooped. "I knew it! You always get away with stuff!"

"They were bound to clear you, there was no case against you, none at all," Hermione said, throwing her arms around me.

"Yeah, well, everyone seems quite relieved, though, considering they all knew I'd get off," I replied with a grin. I had to raise my voice over the twins and Ginny dancing around the kitchen chanting, "He got off, he got off, he got off!"

Mr. Weasley smiled as he waved his arms to try to shut them up. "That's enough, settle down! Listen, Sirius, Lucius Malfoy was at the Ministry-"

"What?"

"Be quiet, you three! Yes, we saw him talking to Fudge on level nine, then they went up to Fudge's office together. Dumbledore ought to know."

"Absolutely. We'll tell him, don't worry."

"Well, I'd better get going, there's a vomiting toilet in Bethnal Green waiting for me. Molly, I'll be late, I'm covering for Tonks, but Kingsley might be dropping in for dinner."

Mr. Weasley hurried out of the kitchen, and Mrs. Weasley hugged me quickly before pulling away and fixing her motherly eyes on me. "Harry dear, come and sit down, have some lunch, you hardly ate breakfast."

I slid into the seat next to Lucy and sighed dramatically. "No delinquency for us in the near future, I'm afraid."

"Well, that's a relief," she replied. She set aside the letter she had been holding and smiled as she wrapped her arms around my neck. "I'm glad you got off, Harry."

Electricity shot through me at the sight of her smile. It was the first I'd seen since she had arrived at Grimmauld. I smiled back, unable to help myself. It didn't matter that her eyes were still tired or that her ink-stained hands still shook as she reached for the letter again. Another little piece of Lucy was back, and I was going to be at Hogwarts to continue watching her come back bit by bit.

I suddenly remembered Bob, and I laughed. "Lucy, you should have seen this one wizard. He had a massive cardboard box, and Mr. Weasley asked what was in it, and it turns out it was a fire-breathing chicken."

She blinked and looked up from the letter. "Oh Merlin. So he took a dragon and a chicken and...?"

"It wasn't his, apparently," I replied with a shrug, "but I thought you might find that funny, creature lover that you are."

"I hope they add fire-breathing chickens to the Care of Magical Creatures cirriculum." Her tone was light, but as she glanced away, I spied a glimmer of tears. But just as soon as they appeared, she blinked them away and reached for the letter again. "Neville sends his best to everyone," she announced after a moment.

"Neville wrote you?" Ron asked, reaching for a chicken leg.

Lucy nodded, gesturing with her chin at one of the stacks of envelopes. "Three of those are from him. He thought maybe he'd spelled my name wrong and the letters had gone to someone else. Very important Herbology question for Mum," she added in a soft voice. She swallowed hard. "Fortunately, I know that Mimbulus mimbletonia isn't poisonous."

"Poisonous or venemous?" I inquired with a small smile, hoping to get a similar smile from her.

She didn't smile, but she did look a bit amused. "It's neither."

"Inside joke," I mouthed to Ron, who looked confused. He smiled and nodded before returning to his food.

Nobody cleaned the rest of the day. The celebration continued into dinner, and Kingsley did swing by. Lucy managed to reply to all of the letters, though she complained quietly to me about her hand hurting and her handwriting being nearly illegible as we climbed the stairs to go to bed, retiring sooner than anyone else since we'd both been up at the crack of dawn.

"Well, you won't have to worry about that tomorrow," I replied. "You'll probably have to wait a couple of days for any replies."

She shook her head. "Hermione reminded me about summer homework. I have to start that tomorrow, now that I have my books from home. I really should have done it in July, but I didn't know how..." She shook her head. "I thought it'd get better, not worse, let's just put it that way." She huffed. "But it did and now I have a mountain of homework to try to do, and I doubt anybody will be able to read my handwriting because my bloody hands won't stop shaking and the professors will just refuse to accept it and- Merlin, sorry, Harry, I shouldn't be complaining to you of all people, you've got more than enough worries without me-"

"Lucy-" I sat on the top step and gestured for her to sit next to me. She complied, and I rested my hand on her knee. I opened my mouth to tell her not to complain, that I didn't mind at all, that I'd rather hear her complaints than just be left to wonder what was bothering her, but she spoke first.

"It's just... remember that cycle I mentioned to you? Going back and forth between angry and sad?"

I nodded. "Of course. I've seen it plenty of times the past week, I understand."

Lucy flushed a bit in embarrassment. "Yeah, you have." She rested her chin on her hands and stared down the staircase. "I've just been angry all day today. I'm glad you got off, it's not that," she added quickly, "it's just not fair you had to go in to begin with. And it's not fair we both had to use magic to save our lives this summer, and it's not fair that Cedric didn't even get the chance to..." She made a small noise of frustration, her anger faltering. "And there goes my anger," she said in a voice little more than a whisper. "Gone. Just like that."

Her half of the ring glowed a brilliant blue. I studied her face carefully, watching for any sign of tears, but none came.

She hadn't cried, really cried, since arriving at Grimmauld. From time to time, her eyes would well up, but she'd never let go the way she had in June after Cedric had died. I hadn't mentioned it to anyone else, but her dry eyes worried me more than her tears. I could hold her while she cried. I could wipe her tears away. But if the grief ran deeper than that... I hadn't figured out yet how I could help with that.

Lucy kept staring straight ahead. "When our Hogwarts letters come, Professor Lupin is going with me to Diagon Alley. I need to change my parents' accounts to my name so I can... well... there's no one left of..." She sighed shakily and looked over at me. "I asked if you could come, since you couldn't go home with me. He didn't think it was a good idea, but I... I wanted you to know I tried."

"Don't worry about it, Lu, I can manage," I said with a half-hearted smile. "Thanks for trying. The way everyone was looking at me today..." I shook my head. "Let's just say I wouldn't mind staying here for a couple hours, where everyone likes me and doesn't look at me like I'm a lunatic or a criminal or a... whatever I am."

"A delinquent?" she asked, the tiniest shadow of a smile on her face.

I nodded, smile widening. "Yeah, a delinquent."