FicWad

Chapter 14 – The Special Session of the Wizengamot

Harry was surrounded by his loved ones and he tried accordingly to put on a strong and brave facade. His inner demons tormented him all the while, “who am I that this lady would risk everything for me?”

Helena’s life – and afterlife – hung by a thread. He sat in the Hospital waiting area with Hermione on one side and Pansy on the other. Minerva stopped by as she could but her responsibilities to the school kept her busy most of the day. Other members of the coven stopped in as often as they could. As did Neville.

Non-coven members heard that Harry was in the hospital worrying over a sick friend and many came by to offer their support. Fred and George stopped in, uncharacteristically serious, which in itself was very disconcerting. Ginny Weasley stood in the door just long enough to see Harry being consoled by Hermione and Pansy Parkinson? No one in the waiting area saw Ginevera walk away muttering to herself.

Susan Bones rounded the corner and nearly collided with the youngest Weasley.

“Sorry, Ginny. Is Harry in there?”

“Yeah.”

As the curvaceous redhead hurried off Professor McGonagall strode past saying something about “. . . scrumptiously fertile Harry.”

Ginny leaned heavily against a wall and began to cry.

“What’s the matter, Gin-gin, not enough of “The Great and Wonderful Potter” to go around?”

Ginny glanced sideways at the smug face of Cormac McLaggan.

The little redhead looked at the tall Scotsman and seemed to measure him. After a few moments she wiped the tears from her face and said, “You’ll do, for now.”

“Do f’what?”

“I need a good ride, McLaggan. Are you up for it? Cause I will fuck you cross-eyed, and you’d better be good or your naughty bits will find themselves in the jar under my bed, along with all the others!”

Wide eyed, Cormack stumbled backward and scrambled away from the fuckin’ sadistic little nutter!

Ginny laughed at the retreating would-be lothario, and then turned serious. Something had to be done about Harry and his whores, and soon. Ron would be the key – he was so easy to wind up. Just let it drop that Harry had something he wanted. Like Hermione, for example.

)O(

“My Lord Slytherin.”

Harry looked up from his thoughts and was astonished to see the Bloody Baron standing before him.

“Baron.” Harry was coolly polite to the ghost of the man who had murdered Helena nine-hundred eighty years before.

“There is a discussion taking place in the Headmaster’s office that I believe you should be privy to.”

“More important than my Lady Helena’s recovery?”

The Baron answered, stiffly, “This pertains directly to your Lady’s recovery.”

Harry looked at the coven members, Hermione in particular.

“You should go, Harry.”

Pansy nodded in agreement.

He sighed and faded, elf fashion, then reappeared in his Lord Slytherin guise in the Headmaster’s office – like a house-elf he would be unseen until or unless he chose to reveal himself.

)O(

“Surely, Severus, you can do this for the daughter of two of the founders.”

“Yes, I can, headmaster. I choose not to.”

“I’ll fetch the reagents from the potions storeroom; so that you can brew the draught in the hospital wing.”

“Headmaster, it is not convenient, at this time, for me to do so. The Lady Ravenclaw . . .”

“Slytherin-Ravenclaw, Severus”

“. . . as I no longer have a house affiliation that matters even less to me than it might. As I was saying, the Lady Ravenclaw is in stasis and can stay there for a hundred years without her condition worsening. I simply do not see the urgency.”

Harry was a heartbeat away from hexing Snape into oblivion when Albus asked, “What has happened to you, Severus? What has made you so very bitter?”

The potions master spun on Dumbledore and hissed, “You, of all people, have to ask me that? It’s not enough that I’m humiliated in this castle, my supposed sanctuary; I have to return to that quasi-human to be berated and tortured for my “failings” as his man inside Hogwarts. Do you even care what happened to my godson? You know that Draco has been tasked with killing you and yet you won’t allow me to transport him and Narcissa to safety. Would you like to see my pensive memories of what those animals did to Narcissa? I had to watch and do nothing while they . . . while they . . .”

Angry tears coursed down Snapes cheeks, “And now I must drop everything so that a ghost can receive medical treatment?”

The chilling voice of Lord Slytherin interrupted, “You need not do anything, Professor Snape. Just give the particulars of the draught to the headmaster, he will pass the information on to Madam Pomfrey and I will have it brewed for the Lady Helena.”

Harry phased out of existence in the headmaster’s office – leaving the two wizards completely gobsmacked - and reappeared in the hospital waiting room.

He sighed heavily and gave Hermione and Pansy brief hugs.

“Hermione, Luv, Poppy will have a formula in a few moments for a very complex potion, will you please work with Pansy to brew it?”

Hermione and Pansy nodded, each knowing the measure of the other. They were the top scorer’s in potions for their year.

“Are you going somewhere, Harry?”

“Yes, I have to see a woman about a dog.”

)O(

Harry, dressed in his finest robes and prominently displaying the ring of his house, stood before the acting Minister of Magic.

“Lord Potter, you’re looking well, but a bit careworn, I think.”

“Madam Bones, I need your help.”

“Please, Harry, call me Amelia. Susan is happier than I’ve ever seen her and it’s all because of your tender loving care. How may the office of the Minister of Magic be of service?”

“I know where Sirius Black is.”

Amelia was glad she’d sat down, otherwise she would have fallen over at that bit of news, “Where?”

“In a moment, Madam Minister, I mean, Amelia. First I need you to see my memories of the night of Triwizard tournament, specifically from the last event in June.”

Amelia rang a small bell and Percy Weasley entered the room.

“Shall I show Mister Potter to the door, then, Minister?”

“No, Weasley, you can bring in the penseive and then call a special session of the Wizengamot for,” she looked at Harry, “will tomorrow, noon, be soon enough?”

“Could we have it this evening, Amelia?”

Percy cringed at the easy familiarity between Potter and the Acting Minister.

“Of course, Harry. Weasley, see to it.”

“Yes, ma’am, anything else ma’am?”

“Would you care for a spot of tea while we wait? Percy here does a splendid tea.”

Harry’s smile was predatory, “That would be wonderful, Amelia. Percy, you know how I take mine.”

Weasley’s face had turned red has his hair but he nodded stiffly and stepped out of the office.

Amelia grinned at Harry, “You enjoyed that a bit too much I think.”

“You should have seen the letter that git sent to his brother, singing the praises of Dolores Umbridge and painting me as a nutter and a bad influence.”

“He is a sanctimonious git, but he’s a very capable assistant. He knows my schedule better than I do; everything on time and in triplicate. I swear I don’t think he sleeps.”

Percy returned with a cart on which rested an ornate copper bowl. He pulled the tea service from a lower shelf and set it on the small table between Harry and Amelia.

“Thank you, Weasley, that will be all for now.”

Percy nodded stiffly and exited.

Harry and Amelia looked at the closed door, then each other and burst out laughing.

“I swear! You can almost see the broom sticking out of his arse!” the Minister said, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye.

Harry looked pensive for a moment, and then deadpanned, “How convenient, he can sweep the floor on the way out of the room!”

Amelia did a spit-take of warm tea, then through her coughing laugher choked out, “Stop it, Harry!” A quick cleaning charm cleaned up the tea.

“Harry, I swear I haven’t had such a good laugh since . . . ever!” She tried to restrain her mirth, “I have to see him every day and now I won’t be able to look at him without the mental picture you’ve “gifted” me with.”

“He does make an excellent cup of tea, though.” Harry said, sipping his.

“I hope you checked that for poisons.” Amelia chuckled.

“Always, as the real Professor Moody has been known to say . . .”

“Constant vigilance!” they shouted simultaneously, and dissolved into another fit of laughter.

After tea Harry and Amelia perused his memories from the previous year.

“Merlin’s beard! That is Barty Crouch, Junior! I’d heard rumors, but no one ever brought in his body.”

“Yeah, and Fudge had him kissed before he could testify before the Wizengamot. I didn’t know the former minister had covered up the physical evidence as well.”

After viewing Harry’s ordeal in the Riddle family graveyard Amelia sat stunned into silence.

“My God, Harry. You fought You-know-who to a standstill. There isn’t a witch or wizard alive who can say that, except maybe Dumbledore – and he hasn’t gone up against him. Pettigrew, alive?

Malfoy, Avery, Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle, all still active in Vodemort’s ranks.

“Will they all be at the special session of the Wizengamot?”

“They will if I tell them to be.” Amelia said with a smirk, “It’s good to be the boss, don’t you know?”

“These blokes will not be going along quietly.”

“I know, Harry. I think we shall have a reception, just before the session. You know, rub elbows, and raise a glass or two. Spike the punchbowl. Add a bit of veritaserum to the Moet & Chandon . . .”

“Why Amelia, that is so very Slytherin of you!”

“Class of 72, Snakes Rule!”

“No argument from me, Madame Minister, some of my best friends are Slytherins.”

“I understand there is a new Lord Slytherin, one who is stirring things up in the Castle?”

“Oh yes, would you like to meet him.”

“Can you arrange that?”

“Give me half a tic.”

Harry stood and his cloak morphed into the silver-lined green robe of his Slytherin lordship.

Amelia just stared. Then shook her head and said, “Why am I not surprised?”

In his chilling “public” voice he said, “I am the Lord Slytherin by right of conquest. I have vanquished the Heir of Slytherin in battle and twice have killed his corporeal body. Hogwarts recognizes me and has given me full control over Slytherin house.”

He then smoothly morphed back into his dress robes. They stepped out into the outer office where Percy had a small, neat desk. “Wonderful tea, Amelia. I hope we can do this again, very soon.”

“Anytime, Harry. My door is always open to you.”

“Thanks, goodbye. Bye, Percy, excellent tea by the way.”

Percy inclined his head respectfully but didn’t say a word. He was startled when Harry faded from view.

“Is he disillusioned?” Percy asked.

“No, he calls it “phasing”, apparently he’s the only one who can do that, other than house-elves, that is. Oh well, work to do, Weasley. We have a reception to plan. Call up all the off duty and retired Aurors, and you’re deputized, by the way. Have everyone convene in the ante-chamber of the Wizengamot by eighteen-hundred this evening.

To his credit, Percy didn’t blink. He set about doing his assigned tasks with alacrity.

Acting Minister Bones had to bite her lip to keep from guffawing at her administrative assistant’s retreating back.

)O(

Lucius Malfoy approached Rufus Scrimgeour, one of the men on the short list for the next Minister of Magic.

“Splendid idea,” Malfoy said, his voice like silk over steel, “having this reception before the first Wizengamot session with our Acting Minister of Magic.”

“Aye, Malfoy, a chance to interact informally with members and staffers before all the pomp and circumstance. Do enjoy the champagne, Minister Bones had it brought in special for this reception.”

“Thank you, I will. There do seem to be a rather large number of “staffers” in attendance.”

“Well, you understand, Malfoy. The need for the up and comers to be seen by those that matter. It’s just good politics.”

“And are you a good politician, Scrimgeour?”

“I have me moments. For example, I’ll bet you thought it was your own idea to come over here and talk to me?”

Mayfoy’s eyes went wide.

Rufus Scrimgeour’s voice became low and dangerous, “I wouldn’t go for yer wand, Malfoy. There are three wands pointing at you right now with orders to curse to kill if you even look like you’re going t’ try.”

Lucius smiled his oily best and casually squeezed the clasp of his formal robe. His smile fell when he realized he was still in the room, surrounded by “staffers” who were undoubtedly trusted aurors.

“Portkeys and apparition will not work either. The whole floor as well as the floors above and below us are warded against any form of magical transport. You could just run, of course, but then would suffer the indignity of being tackled by some of my younger staff, trying to impress me.”

Scrimgeour held out his hand, “Your wand, please.”

Malfoy presented his cane.

The leonine auror accepted it with a nod and said, “Now if you’ll go with young Perks here, and Lucius, don’t try anything – Mister Perks is good, very good with his hands - a muggle form of dueling called aikido - and if you get past him there are at least two others watching you at all times.”

There was the sound of a brief scuffle followed by a grunt and cry of pain. Scrimgeour, Malfoy and Perks glanced over to see Vincent Crabbe, Senior, face down on the ground with a small, oriental woman holding his fat wrist behind his back by two fingers.

Perks smiled, “That’s Cheng Fei, the aikido master who taught me everything I know.”

The petite warrior smiled at Perks and said, “I may have taught you everything you know, but never everything I know.”

Malfoy, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle filed out of the room with their “escorts.”

)O(

Amelia Bones called the special session to order and immediately recognized the head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter.

Harry held up a glass ball and said, “Sixteen years ago a prophesy was made concerning me and Voldemort.”

The frightened gasps from around the chamber annoyed Lord Potter.

“Oh come off it! It’s just a name. A made up name - here.”

Harry used an ascribo charm to spell out “Tom Marvolo Riddle” in flaming script and then rearranged the letters to read “I am Lord Voldemort.”

“He calls himself “flight from death” but that’s just a made up name. If that name frightens you then just call him by his given name, his Muggle father’s name, Tom Riddle.

“Back to the point,” Harry continued, “Riddle wants this prophesy. And as far as I’m concerned he can have it. Do you want to know what it says?”

Heads nodded all over the chamber.

“In a nutshell it says I will kill Voldemort – or he will kill me. Neither of us can live while the other survives. I’ll buy that. Because if you call what he’s become living than you have a much broader definition for life than I do.

“Y’see, I’ve just begun to live – really live. I have people that I care for, people I would die to protect. People I will kill to protect. I don’t want to become like him, but I have to kill him for good and all. For a complete transcription of the prophesy see tomorrow’s edition of the Quibbler – I don’t trust anyone at the Daily Prophet to get it right.”

Harry nodded to Amelia who had the prisoners escorted into the chamber in chains.

Many of the pure-blood factions objected to seeing so many of their own treated like common muggle prisoners. But soon the Chief Witch had gaveled the room back to order. She looked sternly at the assembled lords and said, “Replay the evidence.”

Harry’s pensive, as well as Minerva McGonagall’s were played on large screens on the four walls of the chamber. This gave each member a 360 degree view of all the action. Many of them retreated under their tables as Harry fought Voldemort.

When the memory had played out the chamber was deathly quiet.

“All in favor of conviction?”

For the first time in Wizengamot history the verdict was unanimous.

“Very well, Lucius Malfoy, your lands and properties, family titles and wealth are hereby confiscated. You will be taken henceforth from this room to the chamber of justice where you, whether by your own accord or not, will pass through the veil. May the Goddess have mercy on your soul.”

The same sentence was pronounced on the remaining death eaters.

“Wizards and witches of the Wizengamot, we are at war. The enemy wears a mask and uses the tools of deceit and terror. No more. I declare the dark mark to be an anathema. Anyone found bearing the mark, taken willingly, will be sent through the veil. So say we all?”

“Aye!”

)O(

The Special Session reconvened in the Chamber of Justice. Malfoy was marched up to the dais to stand before the archway. As he stood before the veil he turned to the assembled crowd.

“This is far from over. The Dark Lord will bring this building down on your heads, and I will be watching and laughing from the other side.”

Malfoy turned, head held high, and, just when it appeared that he would go bravely to his death jumped off the dais and ran helter-skelter for an exit, any exit. He was tackled by two aurors and one minor lord, Amos Diggory.

The three wizards were implacable as they dragged the shrieking, clawing, pleading scion of the House of Malfoy up the stairs and to the arch. One of the aurors raised his wand and stunned Lucius. Amos Diggory levitated the death eater and, just before feeding the man’s body to the veil said “enervate!”

“I want him awake and aware when he goes through.”

Malfoy realized at the last possible moment where he was and howled “No! Wait! Pleeeee-”

Then all sound was cut off, as if a massive door had been suddenly slammed shut.

In the silence that followed Harry looked up at the arch.

“D’you hear that?” he asked.

Minerva, at his side, shook her head.

“Voices, from the other side of the veil.”

“I believe you, milord, but I can’t hear them. Can you understand what they’re saying?”

“Not precisely, there are too many of them, but they sound . . . satisfied.”

)O(

Harry went straight back to the hospital wing after leaving the Wizengamot.

He saw an exhausted Hermione and Pansy sitting by Helena’s bedside. The young woman in the bed looked pale as a, well, a ghost.

Harry kissed Pansy’s forehead, then Hermione’s.

“Oh I see how it is, the Vipera gets preferential treatment.” Hermione groused.

“She was closer to the door, I got to her first. That’s all.”

Pansy laughed. It was good to hear her laugh. There had never been good natured teasing and bantering in her house, everything was too cold - too formal. Joyless.

“Is there good news.”

Hermione smiled, “See, he knows to ask the “brainy one”.”

Pansy stuck out her tongue.

“Don’t bring that out unless you plan to use it, sweetie.”

Pansy quickly retracted her tongue.

Harry knew the prognosis was good; otherwise the girls would have been much more serious.

“She’s going to be okay, then?” he said, hoping against hope.

Madame Pomfrey came in, “Touch and go there for a bit, but your Misses did a fine job and Professor Snape tested each batch before I did so we had double-blind quality control.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose to the middle of his forehead. “Professor Snape, really?”

All three women nodded, looking equally perplexed.

Concentrating on her patient Poppy asked “Do you want to go to bed, Lord Harry?”

The look on Harry’s face was priceless, “Has Minnie been whoring me out to her friends again? I need to talk to her about that!”

The matron looked confused for just a moment but then turned beet red as she realized what she had just said. “I mean do you want to sleep here, I mean in a hospital bed . . . arrrrghhh!”

Poppy threw her hands up in resignation.

“Thank you, Madame Pomfrey; I’d love a bed here so that I can be here for Helena if she wakes during the night. Can you set a charm to wake me if she does regain consciousness?”

“Of course.”

In the end they rolled three hospital beds close together so that Harry and Hermione and Pansy could all keep watch.

)O(

The next morning the Quibbler had a three word headline:

SIRIUS BLACK EXONERATED!

The news magazine reported the proceedings of the Special Session. The Prophet quickly reprinted every word that had been in the Quibbler but could not claim authorship or exclusivity.

The Prophet found itself suddenly bereft of financial backing, they had been propped up by Fudge and his backers, the biggest one being Malfoy. In desperation the owners sacked the entire senior editing staff and placed Rita Skeeter in the position of Editor in Chief. If anyone could turn a profit for the Prophet it would be her.

)O(

Helena Slytherin-Ravenclaw woke for the first time in many centuries with the morning sun warming her cheeks. She inhaled the sweet air and stretched like a cat. As she did a tiny bell chimed nearby.

Harry was at her bedside so fast he could have been shot from a cannon.

Her warlock was sleep tousled, hair stuck out in all directions, there were circles under his eyes, and he needed a shave.

He was the most beautiful sight that she had ever seen.

Harry palmed one of the tiny mints that Myrtle seemed to have and endless supply of and leaned in to give his Lady Helena a chaste “good morning” kiss. Lacing the fingers of his right hand into hers, he smiled.

Helena tried to say “good morning” but her throat so dry. Looking around she pointed to the small carafe of water on her nightstand. Pansy quickly got up so that Harry could stay with the former ghost.

As Pansy tipped the glass, helping Helena to sip the sweet water she said, “Small sips, Milady. That’s right. Feeling better?”

The Grey Lady was able to clear her throat and croak out, “Much better, thank you.”

Harry’s face brightened. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small lozenge wrapped in clear cellophane. Releasing Helena’s hand just long enough to unwrap the golden treat, he slipped it between her lips.

“It’s a honey filled lozenge called “Honee’s”.”

Helena hummed her approval.

“Poppy says you’ll be up and about by tomorrow, but for now you need your rest.”

Helena placed her other hand over Harry’s and whispered, “Thank you, Lord Harry.”

“Please, just Harry.”

“Of course, milord.” She chuckled.

Harry shook his head in exasperation. He’d come to realize that the ladies of the coven found delight in their little rituals and formalities. Very well, if he had to be a lord then all the members of the coven would be ladies.

“You must be at your studies, milord. I will be fine here under Matron Pomfrey’s watchful eye.”

“Oh do listen to your lady, Lord Potter, and in doing so let her get some much needed rest.”

Harry stood and kissed Poppy on the cheek, “Now that you’ve had me warming your bed all night you want me to go, I see how it is.”

Poppy glowed red, but smiled as she shooed her favorite patient out of the hospital. The Healer considered, not for the first time, undergoing the Ritual herself. She was half Minerva’s age so it wouldn’t be quite as arduous. . .

Harry was practically walking on air as he made his way to the apartment. He all but sang “Wit beyond measure!” to enter the rooms. Upon entering he saw a stack of books and parchments and a note from Minerva.

Dearest Harry,

We have been keeping up with your assignments as you’ve been busy of late. The written assignments are outlined for you and the books have been highlighted in such a way that your reading will be much more efficient. To make sure you complete all the assignments on time I’ve placed the time turner in the small study just off the bed-chamber. Three turns should do the trick, I expect to see you in transfiguration class first thing, with all your homework done – or there will be a spanking!

All my love,

Minnie

Harry sighed and carried his notes and books into the study. He noticed the other door to the small room, the one that led into the library corridor, closing just as he entered. Harry placed the time-turner around his neck, flipped three times, and began to do his assignments. The outlines helped, but he still had to do the reading and writing and that helped his retention immensely. Before he knew it his assignments were done. Gathering up his books and notes he started to exit by the main door, then realized he’d bump into himself if he did – so he did a quick turn and slipped out the other door.

He had just enough time to catch a quick bite in the great hall before going on to class and was delighted to see the rest of the coven at breakfast. Harry quickly went about patting shoulders and giving quick hugs to his ladies before settling between Hermione and Ginny.

“Are you running for public office or what, mate?” Ron asked, half-jokingly.

“Just saying good morning to some of my friends, Ron. How’ve you been by the way?”

“Oh, good, good. I’ve started dating Lavender y’know?”

“I’ve heard - how’s that working out?”

The girl in question answered for him as she flounced onto the bench beside Ron.

“Won-won!” she pouted and whined, “You were supposed to walk me to bweakfast!”

“Lav, you were taking ages to come down and I was hungry!”

“I was making myself pretty for you, sweetie!”

“You don’t need to do that, sweetums; you’re already the pwettiest girl here!”

Harry looked sideways at Hermione who reached for her throat and pantomimed gagging.

“Hermione, you’ll know that, if I start talking baby talk. . .” he whispered.

“I’ll know the pod people got hold of you. No, love. You have class. These two seem to have been reading the worst sort of trashy romance novels.”

Harry patted her thigh in appreciation. Hermione gave his John Thomas a little squeeze in return.

“Minx!” he murmured, chuckling.

Ginny looked goggle eyed at the couples around her at the table. Harry and Hermione were comfortable with each other in a way that Ron would never understand. Her plan to make Hermione jealous had backfired spectacularly – she didn’t give a tinker’s damn who Ron was fucking this week, she got everything she needed from Harry. And Ron was more than content to be led around by Lavender’s oft-used quim.

Sometimes it just sucked to be her.