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30 Days: Chapter 13
🕑 Added 2023-09-29 15:57:56 +0000 UTCChapter 13
“Harry, get up!”
“Urgh,” Harry groaned.
“Honestly,” Hermione said exasperatedly. “Get up or we’re going to be late.”
“’M up,” he said groggily.
Blinking his bleary eyes open, he squinted at the light coming from his bedside table. His mouth was dry and foul-tasting and a throbbing pain beat at his temples. It took a moment for him to remember what had happened the day before and when he did, he groaned. Marcus’ death combined with the fact that there was little chance of getting a conviction on Nott for his murder had led Harry to drink more than he should have. After having a couple of glasses of cognac with Kim and Penny, he’d come home and shared a few more drinks with Sirius, Remus, and the Aurors in the Order. Vaguely, he remembered Tonks helping him upstairs sometime after midnight.
“Don’t make me have to come back in to get you again,” Hermione warned, her voice heading towards the door. “I won’t be so gentle next time.”
Groaning again, Harry rolled over and sat up at the edge of the bed, head held in his hands. Once the room stopped spinning, he made his way gingerly towards the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, after a quick shower, he felt marginally better. Getting dressed, he carefully made his way down to the kitchen. The noise coming from the room caused him to wince, prompting several chuckles.
“Bit too much to drink last night, Harry?” Tonks asked amusedly.
“’M fine,” Harry grumbled, dropping into a seat.
“Here, drink this,” Hermione said, placing a steaming goblet in front of him.
He wrinkled his nose at the smell and leaned back, his stomach roiling.
“What is that?” he asked disgustedly.
“It’s a Hangover Draught,” she told him. “As much as I think you should suffer through this to learn a valuable lesson, I’m not letting you spend your last day as Minister with a hangover.”
Harry looked closer at the red potion and took a tentative sniff. Immediately, he gagged, his shoulders hunching up.
“Merlin, I think I’d rather keep the hangover,” he mumbled.
That prompted more chuckles from most of the room and glares from Hermione and Mrs. Weasley.
“Oh, stop being such a baby and drink it,” Hermione said, pushing the goblet closer. “Just plug your nose and drink it quickly, you’ll hardly even taste it before it starts working.”
Sighing, Harry pinched his nose and downed the goblet in three large gulps. For a moment, he felt he was going to be violently sick all over the table. Just as he was about to bolt for the sink, the potion kicked in and all of his nausea, along with his headache, vanished in an instant.
“Whoa,” he said, blinking rapidly.
“Don’t think this means you can make a habit of this,” Hermione told him sternly. “I’m not making this for you again if you go out and get drunk for no good reason.”
“Yes, mum,” Harry smirked.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but her lips quirked upwards. With an angry sniff, Mrs. Weasley put a plate down in front of him.
“So, what’s the plan for today?” Tonks asked.
“I’m not really sure,” Harry admitted. “No one knows what’s going to happen when my time as Minister ends. Fudge and I are just scheduled to meet in courtroom seven at nine. After that? No idea.”
“Alright,” Tonks nodded. “Amelia wants me to be your replacement guard for the day. Security at the Ministry is being tightened as well. Only Wizengamot members and the press are allowed to enter the courtrooms, and you can expect more guards than usual.”
“Does that mean I won’t be able to watch?” Hermione asked worriedly.
“Bones made an exception for you, Penny, and Daphne,” Tonks smiled. “You should expect the Wireless broadcasters to show up as well, so no cursing out the entire government this time.”
“They deserved it,” Moody growled, his face twisting in a smile. “’Bout time someone had the balls to say the quiet part out loud.”
“It’s still not becoming of a young man, especially the Minister for Magic,” Mrs. Weasley huffed.
“Which I won’t be after today,” Harry sighed, sitting back in his chair. “Thank Merlin it’s almost over.”
“Now we just have to hope Fudge doesn’t get back into office and Amelia gets elected,” Remus said softly.
“I’m sure everything will work out just fine,” Mr. Weasley smiled, patting him on the shoulder.
One by one, those working at the Ministry left as they finished breakfast. Since Harry was the last to arrive, he ate quickly while Hermione talked with Tonks about the security measures. Ron, the twins, and Ginny entered the kitchen just as he finished eating. With a few handshakes from the boys, hugs from the girls, and wishes for good luck, they Flooed to the Minister’s office.
“Finally,” Penny said, giving Harry a hug and a kiss the moment he stepped out. “I was getting worried you were going to be late.”
“Sorry,” Harry said, taking her hand. “I had a bit of a rough night last night.”
“And a few shots of Firewhiskey,” Tonks smirked. “I’ll go check in with Kim, but we should get going soon.”
“Thanks,” Harry said sarcastically as Penny looked at him with a frown.
“Are you alright, love?” she asked, running a hand through his hair.
“I’m fine,” he told her. “A few Aurors came over last night and I just had a bit too much to drink. Hermione gave me a Hangover Draught this morning.”
“Good,” Penny smiled, kissing his cheek. “After everything you’ve been through this month, you’re allowed to let loose a bit.”
“Oh, good, you’re here,” Daphne said, poking her head through the door.
Stepping inside, she walked up to Hermione and gave her a kiss on the lips. Wrapping her arm around her waist, she turned to Harry.
“I ran into Amelia on my way in,” Daphne told him. “They’re ready when you are. That idiot, Fudge, is holding his own little press conference in the Atrium.”
“Great,” Harry muttered. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”
“It’ll be fine,” Penny assured him softly. “If magic is judging you, there’s no way Fudge weasels his way out of this.”
“I’m just anxious to get out of this job,” Harry told her. “I feel like I’ve been in office for a year. Did Amelia mention anything about the Order of Merlin for Markus?”
“It’s all set,” Daphne replied. “His sister, Amy, is here to receive it.”
Harry’s throat felt tight as he nodded before leading the group out of his office. Kim and Tonks called the elevator so that it had already arrived by the time they reached it. Climbing inside, they descended to the courtrooms. Kim and Tonks flanked Harry when he stepped out, the girls trailing behind. Turning the corner to the courtrooms, he paused at the sight that greeted him. Dozens of Aurors, all in their ceremonial robes, lined the hall all the way to courtroom seven.
“Attention!” Matilda yelled.
The Aurors snapped to attention, standing rigidly straight with their backs to the walls.
“Present wands!” she shouted.
As one, the Aurors raised their arms at a forty-five-degree angle, wands aloft. The tips glowed a soft blue, bathing the normally dreary hall in a calming white-blue glow. Standing still as statues, they created an archway just big enough for one person to pass through.
“Er, what-”
“It’s their way of showing you their support,” Tonks whispered urgently. “They’re here because they respect you.”
Swallowing a knot in his throat, Harry nodded, blinking back the burning in his eyes. Starting slowly, he walked down the hall, his eyes darting back and forth between each and every face. As he passed each one, they snuffed out their wands and lowered them before stepping back, allowing the girls to pass. Just as Harry turned into the courtroom, he met the eyes of Shaw, who gave him a subtle nod.
Returning the gesture, Harry walked purposefully into courtroom seven. The room went silent as he and the girls entered. Fudge was already there, talking to a large group of reporters. Seeing Harry, he sneered, only for his brow to rise a moment later when dozens of Aurors poured into the room and positioned themselves around the perimeter.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Amelia asked though Harry was sure she already knew.
“We’re here to protect our Minister, ma’am,” Kingsley said, stepping forward calmly, his deep voice reverberating around the room.
“I thought I told you to take volunteers only,” Amelia said, her face betraying nothing.
“I did,” Kingsley replied smoothly. “After what happened yesterday, every Auror we have volunteered to protect Minister Potter.”
Murmurs broke out around the room. With a nod from Amelia, Kingsley stepped back to his position.
“Perhaps we should get started,” Fudge said, blustering forward in his fancy blue robes. “I’m sure I have a lot of work ahead of me.”
“Not just yet,” Amelia said firmly. “Whatever magic is binding your oaths won’t start for another fifteen minutes. First, under the direction of Minister Potter, there is one more piece of important business to finish. Amy Harper, would you please come forward?”
A tall, brunette woman who looked to be in her forties stood from the gallery and marched forward. Harry knew instantly from the look of grief and barely repressed tears that she had to be Markus’ sister. He was glad Amelia was doing this for him. As much as he wanted to do it himself, he didn’t think he would be able to get the words out around the lump in his throat. Once Amy was standing next to Amelia at the podium, she cleared her throat to silence the whispering crowd.
“Yesterday, just down the hall from the room we stand in now, Senior Auror Markus Dresden tragically lost his life in the performance of his duties,” Amelia said. “When one of our own was Imperioused to assassinate Minister Potter, Markus selflessly and heroically stepped in front of the Killing Curse, saving the life of the Minister. What the media wasn’t told, and I can only reveal now with the permission of Mrs. Harper, is that Auror Dresden knew that, should he continue to guard the Minister, he would almost certainly be killed.”
Harry looked at Amelia, surprised she was revealing that much as she took a moment to get her emotions under control.
“Two weeks ago, during a trip to the Department of Mysteries, Auror Dresden was given a prophecy,” she continued. “In that prophecy, he was warned that continuing to protect the Minister would see him killed. Rather than reveal this to me or ask for a transfer, he stayed in his position. Knowing Markus as I have for more than twenty years, I can only surmise he did so to protect his fellow Aurors. Despite knowing that by simply hesitating he could spare his own life, Marcus never hesitated to step in front of that Curse. For his brave and selfless actions, Minister Potter has awarded Auror Markus Dresden with the Order of Merlin, First Class.”
The crowd applauded as Amelia pulled a red velvet case out of her robes. Opening it, she revealed the golden medal of two crossed wands inside. Tearfully, though maintaining her composure, Amy took the case, cradling it to her chest. As the crowd began to talk amongst themselves, Harry worked up the courage to step down next to her and clear his throat.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” he said softly. “If I had known what was going to happen…”
“That’s why Markus kept the prophecy to himself,” Amy said, smiling sadly. “He was always protecting people, even as a kid. He thought highly of you, you know? Kept saying how he thought you were going to change the world for the better. And you know what, after everything he told me about you, I believe it, too.”
Harry swallowed thickly as Amy gave him a small smile and hugged him gently. Pulling away, she wiped her eyes and walked back over to the gallery. Ignoring the reporters asking her questions, she hugged a tall, blonde man that Harry guessed was her husband. Harry took off his glasses with a sigh and rubbed his eyes.
“Holding up alright?” Amelia asked.
“Yeah,” Harry replied, settling his glasses back on his nose. “It’s just been a month.”
“I’ll bet,” Amelia said, her lips quirking up briefly as she checked her watch. “It’s about time. You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Harry sighed.
“I’ll go get Fudge,” Amelia said.
As she walked away, Harry looked back over his shoulder at Dumbledore.
“Any idea what’s about to happen?” he asked.
“Something quite memorable, I suspect,” Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling. “The older magics tend to be quite spectacular.”
Harry snorted and shook his head.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said.
“I’m afraid when it comes to the specifics, I’m just as much in the dark as you are,” Dumbledore replied. “However, I have faith in your character and abilities. You have risen marvelously to every challenge life has put before you. This one will be no different.”
While it wasn’t the answer he wanted, his words did make Harry feel a bit better. Their brief conversation came to an end when Amelia returned with Fudge in tow. His balding head was covered in sweat, and he looked nervous but tried to hide it behind a confident swagger.
“Let’s get this over with,” Fudge blustered, adjusting his robes. “I’d like to get back to my office and back to work as soon as possible. I’m sure the Ministry has suffered without the proper guidance for the last month.”
Harry snorted, as did a good number of the Aurors near him. Even Amelia had to hide a smile as Fudge went red and glared.
“It should start in just a moment,” Amelia said, checking her watch. “We should take our seats.”
Harry and Fudge stood across from one another while everyone else waited and watched. Fudge tried to glare at him, but Harry found it hard to see the pudgy man intimidating. They stood silently for a long moment before he felt magic begin swirling around them. The torches along the wall flared, burning brightly as dozens of small, silvery balls of mist flew through the walls. They circled around over their heads, creating a gust of wind before stopping suddenly in a perfectly formed ring around the two of them.
Slowly lowering to the floor, the mist began to expand rapidly until it settled like a fog in the middle of the courtroom. Billowing and shifting, the fog began to take shape from the inside out. First, it morphed into a flat, round table with a hole in the middle just big enough for Harry and Fudge. Then, around the outside formed seats. The last of the mist gathered around each chair, forming ghostly shapes that gradually became clearer and more detailed. As the faces developed, Harry spun around to look at each one, his eyes going wide when he recognized a very familiar face.
“Merlin,” he gasped.
“Indeed,” the elderly wizard smiled. “A pleasure to meet you, young Potter. Aside from myself, we are the original sacred twenty-eight. Our essences have been preserved within these very walls to adjudicate over the most delicate of matters. We are the Council of Magic.”
“Impossible,” Fudge whispered, his eyes wide and bulging.
“Oh, I assure you it is quite possible, Cornelius,” Merlin said, his stare piercing.
Fudge swallowed and took a step back before gathering himself and straightening his robes.
“Ah, well, yes, of course,” he rambled. “I’ve prepared a presentation to show how preposterous Potter’s allegations are and how much good I’ve done for the Ministry.”
“That won’t be necessary,” A witch sitting at the round table said. “We have much more reliable ways of obtaining the information we need.”
Harry couldn’t help but smirk as Fudge shuffled nervously.
“I’d like to start with Harry first,” A wizard said, smiling kindly. “We’ve heard rumors of you for years, and we’ve seen what you’ve done since taking office, but I’d like to learn more about the wizard my house produced.”
“We’re related?” Harry asked, surprised.
“In a manner of speaking. Bartholomew Potter, at your service. Or, what part of his magic remains in this world,” the wizard said. “We’re not ghosts, and cannot communicate with the dead, unfortunately. We are merely echoes of our past selves. A part of ourselves we left behind to protect what we built.”
“Indeed,” Merlin nodded. “Now, if there are no objections, let us begin.”
He waved his hand, mist flowed from the table and began swirling around Harry’s feet. Traveling up his body, it continued up to the ceiling, forcing necks to crane back to keep it in sight. The mist spread out like a cloud, colors shifting across its surface. Those colors merged into an image of a young boy cowering in a cupboard while a storm raged outside. Thunder shook the house, causing dust to fall from the stairs above him.
Harry blushed with shame, wondering why Merlin and the others wanted to see so far back in his life. Looking away from the image above him, he listened absently as the most formative and important moments of his life played out for all to see. From the gallery, he could hear a low murmur coming from the Wireless broadcasters as they described the scenes to their audience.
It felt utterly humiliating to have the whole country find out about the Dursleys and the way he grew up. Relief washed over him when the images started to focus on his Hogwarts years. Everyone watched raptly as he struggled to cope with his fame, making friends, and his classes, all while dealing with Voldemort in the background. Mercifully, the images were short, only showing the most important parts of his school life.
Much more time was spent on his fourth year, the Third Task of the tournament, and his dealings with the Ministry leading up to his trial just a month ago. The council members whispered amongst themselves during his fight with Voldemort and escape from the graveyard. Bartholomew looked at Harry and smiled at him proudly before turning back.
For the next few minutes, they reviewed his actions as Minister. Looking back at what he’d done, Harry was surprised by how well everything had turned out. There were so many moments where a single mistake on his part could have led to disaster.
“Merlin,” Bartholomew called the moment the memories ended. “I propose we bring Mr. Nott here to discover the truth of his involvement.”
“That’s not why we are here,” another wizard with a chiseled jaw said. “We are here to discover if the former Minister knowingly attempted to end the scion of two of the sacred twenty-eight.”
“We here to preserve our way of life,” Bartholomew argued. “That was the purpose of leaving a part of our magic behind. There is clearly more going on here than either Harry or Fudge is aware of. I believe Fudge to be merely a pawn in a much grander scheme to see the Ministry destroyed.”
The other wizard looked at him for a long moment before nodding his head.
“I withdraw my objection,” he said.
“Are there any others that wish to object?” Merlin asked, pausing to wait for a reply that never came. “Very well. Madam Bones, if you could bring Lord Nott here, perhaps we may be able to get to the truth of his involvement.”
Amelia nodded to Kingsley, who left the courtroom quickly, taking two other Aurors with him.
“Now, Mr. Fudge,” Merlin said, turning his penetrating gaze on the trembling man. “Let us get to the truth of yourinvolvement in all of this.”
“Now – now wait just a minute!” Fudge shouted. “This is an invasion of privacy!”
“And one that you agreed to when you took office,” A witch from the council interrupted firmly.
Merlin waved his hand again, and Fudge tried to wave away the mist to no avail. In seconds, another cloud had formed above their heads, and images danced across the surface. The first showed a much younger and thinner Fudge sitting with Barty Crouch and a woman Harry vaguely recognized as Minister Bagnold.
“You say that Black blew up the street?” Crouch asked, pacing in front of a nervous Fudge. “That’s what all the witnesses said?”
“Er, yes, sir,” Fudge stammered. “I questioned them myself before Obliviating them. A few thought the spell from Pettigrew, but they’re just Muggles. I’m sure they were mistaken.”
“All of them stated that the spell came from Black, do you understand?” Crouch asked firmly. “The official reports will reflect that.”
“Of – of course,” Fudge said, bobbing his head quickly.
“Barty?” Bagnold asked, sitting forward in her chair.
“You know how these politics work,” Crouch said, turning to face her. “He’s still a Black and being so close to You-Know-Who, many in the Wizengamot will be afraid of him. We cannot let him back out on the streets. He could even claim the Imperious like many of his friends.”
“What, exactly are you suggesting?” Bagnold asked.
“Merely that we do our jobs,” Crouch said, taking a seat. “It is our job to protect Magical Britain from monsters like Black. His greatest chance to escape justice comes from the Wizengamot. Why give him the chance when we can simply send him to Azkaban?”
“The people would never accept that,” Bagnold said. “And the Wizengamot would crucify us for even trying. As you said, he is still a Black.”
“But he is weak,” Crouch said. “His is all that remains of that family. With all the other trials going on, the public won’t even notice he hasn’t had a trial. As for the Wizengamot, tell them he was tried under a special tribunal due to the danger he presents. With the overwhelming evidence we can present to the public, no one will ever go looking into his records.”
Bagnold was silent for a long moment before she nodded. The image shifted and now Fudge was standing at a press conference, smiling for the cameras as Bagnold described how he single-handedly captured the notorious Sirius Black.
What followed after that was a litany of small but corrupt acts Fudge committed to advance through the rankings in the Ministry. Once he met Umbridge, he used the information and blackmail she gave him to beat out people much more suited for the positions he took. From the memories, it was clear that the only reason he won the election for Minister was because he had a reputation for being able to be bought. That, and Dumbledore refused to take the position.
Fudge hadn’t been in office more than a few hours before Malfoy came into his office and blatantly bribed him to free him and his friends. Over the years, they built a relationship that led to Fudge falling deeper and deeper into his pocket. Fudge pushed laws for him, fought others, and made changes in policy, all while making a tidy profit on the side.
Then came the Third Task and his staunch refusal to believe Voldemort could be back. After that, Malfoy and Umbridge were in his office much more often, discussing ways to stop Harry and Dumbledore from warning the public.
“Perhaps we could spin it as Potter falling to the Dark,” Malfoy suggested during one such meeting. “I believe you mentioned the Dementors being unnaturally attracted to him last year.”
“Don’t remind me,” Fudge said, rubbing his brow. “Blasted things nearly killed him three times. Do you have any idea the nightmare I had when the press found out?”
“But you handled it wonderfully,” Umbridge simpered with a grating, girlish giggle.
“You know, I have a reliable source that says they spotted Black in Surrey,” Malfoy said, swirling his drink. “I believe that’s where the Potter boy lives, isn’t it? Tell me, do either of you find it suspicious that Potter changes his mind about Black moments before he escapes from a locked and guarded tower and now he’s spotted in the area where the boy lives?”
“You think they’re working together?” Fudge asked, leaning forward.
“It would make sense,” Malfoy said, taking a sip from his glass. “Potter gets close to Black, then he miraculously escapes, and now the Dark Lord has suddenly returned. The timing is a bit too suspicious. Perhaps sending Dementors to the area to search for Black would be a good idea.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Umbridge smiled. “If all goes well, we may be able to rid ourselves of both of our problems in one night.”
“And how would I explain to the public that Dementors killed the Boy-Who-Lived?” Fudge asked. “They would hound me out of office if something like that happened under my watch.”
“Not if Black convinced a few of the beasts to join his side,” Malfoy smirked. “It would certainly explain how he was able to escape Azkaban so easily. Of course, it would be a tragedy if he were to lose control of them while in a muggle neighborhood.”
“Yes, yes. It would, wouldn’t it,” Fudge said, nodding his head thoughtfully.
The image shifted again, showing Fudge and his office in a panic when they learned that Harry survived. The rest of what happened was predictable and, thankfully, over quickly. Fudge was pale and trembling, beads of sweat on his forehead as the memories came to an end.
“You bastard!” someone shouted.
That single shout started a cascade that took several moments to be quieted by the efforts of Amelia and Dumbledore. Just as the Wizengamot and the gallery quieted, Kingsley returned with Nott. The elderly man paled and had to be dragged forward when he spotted the ghostly council.
“Lord Nott, how good of you to join us,” Merlin said, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
Comments
GhostnKC
I would have loved to read that.
Taium
It's never going to happen, but I kind of want Merlin to look at Dumbledore and go "What the hell are you wearing?" right before the council departs. It does seem like my wild theory about Lucius getting punished instead of Fudge was close to the mark though.
Bouttefeux Pierre-yves
Super serie
SharpShooter345
God i can't wait for the next one.
Scott
Love this series
torlan
Awesome this story gets better and better. Excellent the way to Judge. Particularly that it went beyond just a choice of Harry or Fudge
Stephen
I am so much more invested in the ending of this story than I thought I would be now. What a great way for magic to judge!
Sage Berthelsen
Well, that took a turn.
FicFinder
Ooooo this is great! Can't wait to see what the verdict is!
TypistTyphon
Great stuff 👍
Erinnyes
Five galleons says Fudge has already fudged himself. 😁
Sean Brindley
Another amazing chapter!!
