Chapter Text
Harry may not have had his wand when he entered the courtroom, but he still felt the magic as it sealed the doors shut and wards locked into place. It reminded him a bit of entering Hogwarts the first time, how the magic had felt against his skin. He held out a hand and touched the magic against the door tentatively, smiling softly when the magic pulsed against his palm. A man in red robes led him to a chair in the center of the room and encouraged him to sit. Harry nodded his thanks, rolling his eyes when the man looked at him in shock at the gesture.
Fudge droned on about the purpose of the hearing, making his displeasure and disapproval of Harry known through his tone. Harry made sure to sit up straight and give the Minister his full attention. He knew he wasn’t at fault, but after what had happened when the notice arrived, well, he had his own bone to pick.
All that the Aurors, Shacklebolt and Tonks, had done when they came by was inform him of what was going to happen; meaning Arthur Weasley was going to pick him up and take him to the Ministry the day of the trial and he should stay out of sight as much as possible. Dudley was resting in his room when they came by, having been given some meds at the hospital and Aunt Petunia was fawning and fretting over him with every sigh and snore. These Aurors had shown up, told him everything was going to be fine, and left him with his very angry Uncle. He was glad that he was decent with glamor charms, otherwise he’d draw more attention, and he didn’t want that at all.
“Did you knowingly use magic in the presence of a Muggle?” Fudge asked acerbically.
“Yes-” Harry started to answer, but clamped his jaw shut when the Minster started talking over him again.
“And did you do so knowingly breaking the Reasonable Restriction for Underage Sorcery?” Fudge continued, ignoring his half answer.
“Yes-” Harry tried again, groaning inwardly and clenching his hands as the man spoke over him again.
That’s when he finally looked around the room. Each Witch or Wizard carried themself with an air of self-importance. Each appeared to either be a wealthy member of society or a Department Head, if he had to take a guess. Which meant this was a full-on trial like he’d seen in the pensieve during fourth year. But, unlike in the memory, these people were not giving him an opportunity to defend himself. This wasn’t a trial at all. Only in pretense. This was a sentencing for claiming that Voldemort was back. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, but it made too much sense. There had been little pieces in articles he’d read over the summer alluding to him and Dumbledore losing their minds, and it seemed that it was now the popular opinion about him.
Harry took a deep breath and let it out and just let Fudge talk to everyone around him. He didn’t care anymore. He’d thought the wizarding world was better than being with his relatives, but it wasn’t. It was more impossible expectations, and more punishment for if he didn’t do it the way they wanted it done.
“Mr. Potter, are you too good to even give basic respect during your own hearing?” Fudge demanded, and Harry finally looked at him. He met his eyes and saw how angry and afraid the man was.
“I’ve no reason to respond, sir. This is no hearing. This is a sentencing. You’ve all already made up your minds about what happened with the two words I said, and I already know that you’re ready to snap my wand and send me back. I may not be much, sir, but I’m an expert at rejection. So why defend myself?” Harry replied evenly. He didn’t say anything angrily, didn’t alter his tone, nothing. He kept a flat, calm, even tone, because he just didn’t care anymore.
“What do you mean, Heir Potter?” A woman asked curiously.
“Who?” Harry asked confusedly, looking around the room. “Do you mean me?”
“You are Heir Potter, are you not?” Another man scowled. “Son of James and Lily Potter, last of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter?”
“I am the son of James and Lily, but I don’t understand what all the rest of that means.” Harry said cautiously, seeing several of the members getting agitated.
“Who is your magical guardian?” A stern looking woman asked calmly. Harry decided he’d rather answer her questions, because she at least looked determined enough to learn the truth.
“Is that different from my muggle relatives?” Harry asked curiously.
“Muggles?!” Several people were standing now and looking angrily toward Fudge who had started sweating and looking uneasy.
“I don’t understand,” Harry interrupted, holding his hand up to gain attention again, “can someone please explain why this is suddenly an issue after 14 years?”
“It bears no relevance to the charges against the boy for conjuring a Patronus in a Muggle area.” Fudge said, a little bit of spittle coming from the corners of his mouth.
“You made a fully formed Patronus?” The stern woman asked, leaning forward and taking notes.
“I did, yes. I’ve been able to conjure it since third year.” Harry said certainly. He knew that information, at least.
“The charges still stand.” Fudge said vehemently.
“I move to recess until the investigation can be reviewed.” The stern woman stated, ignoring Fudge.
“That would be wonderful, Madam Bones,” an older looking witch stated, getting to her feet and glaring at Fudge, “I, for one, know that I did not receive a copy of the report prior to the hearing.”
“Was there actually an investigation?” Harry asked, sitting forward, barely refraining from wincing. “The only Aurors I saw were the ones who came to tell me to stay put until I was retrieved for my hearing.”
“Names?” The woman stated, raising an eyebrow at Harry.
“Kingsley Shacklebolt and Dora Tonks.” Harry said easily. “She was introduced as Nymphadora, but was very adamant that she not be called that.”
“And your relationship to the Muggle who witnessed your Patronus?” She encouraged.
“Dudley Dursley, my cousin. Whom I live with and has known about my magic since I started at Hogwarts.” Harry stated, jumping in his seat as every member gathered, who was able, jumped to their feet and started talking all at once, some shouting.
“Enough!” The woman Harry now knew to be Madam Bones shouted, holding her wand up. “It appears that these charges are erroneous, Minister.” She growled ‘Minister’ and looked ready to stab the man who was gripping his podium tightly. “This hearing is now no longer in reference to charges of alleged breaking of the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, but now in reference to the upbringing of an Heir of an Ancient and Noble House with potential charges against others for abuse of a magical child, kidnapping, and attempted Line theft.”
“Seconded.” Lucius Malfoy, of all people, said through gritted teeth, followed by the agreement of everyone in the chamber aside from Fudge and a woman wearing the most ridiculous pink assortment Harry had ever seen.
“Motion passed.” Fudge said, sounding the gavel and looking as if he were fighting not to throw it at Harry. Madam Bones descended the steps and conjured a chair in front of Harry along with a table.
“Wonderful.” She said, setting out several pieces of parchment and summoning a very large file. She looked very prepared considering Harry had only known about the hearing a few days. Almost as if she were planning for this outcome. “Now, Heir Potter, just to confirm your actions in regards to you and your cousin, what happened that forced you to use magic outside of school?”
“Oh, er, the Dementors.”
“Dementors.” Madam Bones said, looking pale.
“I’m sorry,” the abhorrently pink woman said, clearing her throat in a most annoying manner, Madam Bones’ eye twitched nearly displacing her monocle, “do expect us to believe that a Dementor just happened upon an underaged wizard in a muggle neighborhood?”
“Two, actually.” Harry said, holding up his fingers. “One came after me, and one nearly kissed my cousin since I’d dropped my wand when he punched me in his panic to get away.”
“Thank you, Heir Potter.” Madam Bones said, jotting a note down. “Now. There have been multiple visits to this area, this … Little Whinging, by the Accidental Magical Reversal Department over the years. Are you willing to explain a few of these incidents for me?”
“To the best of my ability and memory.” Harry agreed.
“Perfect. In July of 1991, the AMR were called to a zoo to investigate some vanishing glass for a particularly large python.”
“Ah.” Harry blushed and scratched his neck. “It was a trip for my cousin’s birthday. I was, er, talking to the snake, but my cousin pushed me to the ground after hitting me so he could see the snake that was now awake. I don’t really know what happened, the glass was just gone. He and his friend fell through and into the enclosure before the glass reappeared.”
“Interesting. You were able to focus enough that it only affected the one enclosure, yes?”
“Yeah, it was just the one snake that got out.” Harry nodded. “Thanked me, actually.”
“The next summer, I have record of a notice being sent to your home-”
“House.” Harry corrected automatically, feeling his face heat up again. “Sorry.”
“Very well, house, about the use of a hovering charm.”
“That was a house elf.” Harry said in annoyance.
“And how was a house elf able to find you?”
“Dunno.” Harry shrugged. “But he had been stealing my letters from my friends and showed up demanding that I swear not to return to Hogwarts that year since he knew something that was happening but couldn’t tell me what. In retaliation, he hovered the dessert that was for my Uncle to serve for his dinner party and dropped it before disappearing.”
“And when did the investigators come by?”
“What investigators?” Harry scoffed, unable to help himself. “If you can show me that any real, actual investigation occurred, I’ll show you my ‘O’ in Potions.”
“Perhaps we can proceed with a touch less sarcasm, Heir Potter.” Madam Bones said, fighting a smile.
“I’ll attempt it.” Harry conceded, pursing his lips.
“That’s all I can ask for someone related to James and having Sirius and Remus as godfathers.” She accepted.
“Sirius Black is an escaped murderer and should not be joked about.” Fudge said angrily.
“Yeah?” Harry asked, feeling vindictive, looking directly at Fudge. “Mind if I see his transcript from his trial, then?”
The courtroom went silent at his request, and all anger left Fudge’s face as he paled dramatically. Madam Bones carefully set her quill down and turned to face Fudge as she stood.
“Do you mean to tell me that Heir Potter is not the first member of an Ancient and Noble house to be attempted to be sentenced without a fair trial?”
“I was not Minister when Black was sentenced.” Fudge defended.
“And you’ve obviously taken steps to correct your error.” Lucius Malfoy sneered, his hands gripping his cane so tight Harry was surprised it hadn’t snapped. It didn’t matter that they’d been chatting quietly in a hallway before they came in, it seemed. Lucius looked ready to toss the man to the Dark Lord along with Dumbledore.
“Mr. Weasley,” Madam Bones said, drawing attention to Percy Weasley, “please schedule a meeting in two days to review all records of those sentenced to Azkaban 14 years ago and pay close attention to those who are in residence and do not have matching or corroborating transcripts of the trials.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Percy said, dipping his head and writing furiously.
“Minister Fudge, I implore you to keep quiet lest you dig yourself into a deeper hole and land yourself in your own cell.” Madam Bones snarled before taking her seat. “Now, Harry, I mean, Heir Potter-”
“Harry is fine.”
“Harry, then. In case you were not aware, once a witch or wizard begins proper instruction through Hogwarts, accidental magic is practically unheard of. Can you tell me what happened the summer before your third year?”
“I’d rather not.” Harry said, his body tensing and making him wince as his back pulled at the still healing injuries.
“Perhaps you’d be willing to share the memory since you are uncomfortable speaking about it?” She offered.
“How do I do that?” He asked skeptically.
“It’s quite simple. You hold the memory in your mind of what happened, and I’ll draw it out for the Pensieve that will allow all of us to view it.”
“Um. Alright.” Harry agreed, clearing his throat and thinking back to the week Marge had been visiting that summer.
“Ready?” She asked, holding her wand by his temple and giving him a reassuring look.
Harry took a deep breath and let it out, keeping the memory of what happened in his mind, nodding sharply and feeling it pulled from his mind. It was a very odd feeling, as he could still remember it, but could also see the wisp that the woman had pulled from him before placing it in the bowl on the table beside them. Harry had included up to meeting Fudge at the Leaky Cauldron, feeling it would be best for them to see all of it. He didn’t look up as he heard the awful words the woman had said about his parents before he’d finally lost his hold on his magic, causing her to blow up. How he’d packed his meager belongings hurriedly, taking everything out of the cupboard and running away. Seeing the dog form of his godfather, the knight bus, and arriving at the Leaky only to have Fudge assure him that he would be welcome to go back to his relatives the next summer, completely ignoring Harry’s pleas not to return.
Madam Bones was holding up a hand and looking around the room sternly to keep another outburst from occurring.
“Thank you, Harry, that was most informative.”
“If you say so.” Harry replied automatically.
“You’ll notice that I started at events that led up to you receiving your Hogwarts letter. I promise, there is a reason. Which teacher came to collect you and speak with your relatives when it was time for you to get your school supplies?”
“Well, it took a few weeks, because my Uncle and Aunt kept destroying the letters.” Harry flinched back at the outrage that followed that statement. The Auror he’d smiled at was at his side in an instant and casting a spell around him so he didn’t have to hear all the shouting.
“You’re alright, kid.” He said gently.
“Sorry.” Harry croaked, wiping a hand over his face.
“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” He shook his head. “They’re upset, as am I, because receiving your letter is a big deal in our world. It’s almost sacred. Your relatives had no right to destroy it.”
“Probably best they did, honestly. It was addressed very specifically to the … room, as it were, that I lived in.”
“Why would that make it better?”
“My letter was addressed to Mr. H Potter, the cupboard under the stairs.” Harry replied, hissing when the man’s hand tightened on his shoulder before he let go.
“You’re injured.” He said suddenly, looking alarmed.
“I’m fine.” Harry shook his head. “It’ll heal before school starts.”
“What will heal?” Madam Bones demanded, standing in front of him and looking severely hacked.
“Nothing.” Harry said, shaking his head again. “Sorry.”
“He’s injured.” The Auror said, ignoring Harry scowling at him. “Once he gets through with your questions, mum, I’d suggest he visit a healer and be secured in the Ministry until all of this can be further investigated.”
“We’ll break for lunch in half an hour and you’ll escort him to the healer. I want a full medical evaluation before we continue this afternoon.”
“Yes, mum.”
“Harry, can you answer which teacher came to retrieve you?”
“Oh, er, he wasn’t technically a teacher at the time, but it was Hagrid.”
“Hagrid.” She said incredulously.
“Yeah, he brought my letter, took me shopping, told me I was a wizard, all of it.” Harry nodded.
“What do you mean by ‘all of it’?”
“He told me about my parents.” Harry said slowly. “Told me they were a witch and wizard, and that’s what I was. I didn’t even know their names until Hagrid.”
“And what did your relatives say about how you came to be in their care?”
“They told me it was a car crash. Said dad was a drunk and got us into an accident that killed them and the other people. And that was how I got my scar.” Harry fingered his scar lightly. It was still aching a little from his nightmares.
“As you have stated that you did not have any Heir training, can you confirm that you received the book list for all muggle-born and half-blood students?”
“There was another list?” Harry nearly shrieked, tugging a hand through his hair anxiously. “I KNEW that I was missing something. I couldn’t figure out why Hermione had so many extra books, nor Seamus and Dean, but no one ever said anything to me.”
“Noted.” She said, her jaw clenched. “And how did you pay for your school things?”
“Hagrid had my key, apparently.” Harry sighed, feeling completely overwhelmed.
“Why?”
“Said Dumbledore gave it to him. I still don’t know where it is. Molly Weasley had it second year, but I was able to use my wand before third year to get some money. It was a little weird, because I think the goblins were wanting to tell me something, but they couldn’t actually say anything without me bringing it up. But it was like one of those things where I had to ask the right question.”
“Yes, that would be correct. They cannot freely give information. They would require a formal request.” Madam Bones agreed. “Mr. Weasley, during the lunch recess, contact Gringotts and ask that Harry’s account manager come in so we can sort out if and what has potentially been stolen from him and get him compensated.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Percy said, scribbling his notes, but purposefully not looking at Harry, which he found extremely unusual. Harry thought he got along well enough with all the Weasley’s, but Percy was acting like he didn’t know him.
“We’ll also need them to bring in and conduct an Inheritance test as well. I have a suspicion about the Triwizard Tournament, but I want their confirmation first.” She finished marking her own notes. “I’m going to hold off on further questions until this afternoon, because I have a feeling they will all be connected and we won’t actually achieve anything before having those answers. You mentioned earlier that you are an ‘expert in rejection’.” Harry tensed, but held her gaze. “Can you give me an example?”
“I-” Harry cleared his throat and unclenched his hands, stretching them a bit. “I have been rejected for one thing or another all my life. I was too much of a freak for my relatives, who resented me being dropped into their perfect family. I was rejected by other kids my age because they didn’t want to be beat up by my cousin for trying to be friends with me. I was practically rejected every year at school by my classmates for one thing or another. For losing too many points, for being able to speak to snakes, for being the reason Dementors were at the castle, for being in the tournament. I’ve known about the wizarding world for all of four years and I’ve been battling for acceptance the entire time for just being seen as me and not some fucking novelty.
“The only ones who ever saw me for me and accepted me right away and never abandoned me were Fred and George Weasley. Snape saw my father, McGonagall saw my father, Flitwick saw my mother, Hagrid saw both my parents, even Sirius and Remus saw my father; my entire fucking class saw me as the-boy-who-lived. Everyone I have ever encountered in the wizarding world knew more about me than I did when I finally came to it. And everyone had expectations that I failed to meet because I wasn’t enough. So I’m very familiar and acquainted with rejection, Madam Bones. I was prepared to be rejected from the wizarding world when I came in here today, actually. You are the first person that has ever asked me or taken a genuine interest in my answers. So … thank you. For listening.”
“You’re welcome, Harry.” She said, her voice tight. “We will recess for an hour for lunch and reconvene when we have the additional representatives gathered.” She stated, glaring at Fudge.
“Recess for an hour.” Fudge agreed, banging the gavel.