THE ‘BOY-WHO-LIVED’ KILLS!

It came as a terrifying shock to the Ministry of Magic and the wizarding world, yet one that was expected by many Ministry experts – and one that will likely appall the wizarding world. With brand new information from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the Prophet is able to confirm this horrifying news: that the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, has been arrested and charged on multiple charges of manslaughter, resisting arrest, and violations of the Reasonable Restriction for Underage Wizardry and the Statute of Secrecy.

“Most of the details of the crime are confidential,” Dmitri Kemester told reporters late last night, “but I can tell you all this: Potter will be held accountable for his crimes in the Wizengamot, which resulted in my brother Bartholomew’s brutal murder in Potter’s daredevil flight from Magical Law Enforcement officials.”

Such a flight, as of yet unreported by Muggle authorities, reportedly took place last evening, when Potter chose to flee from his home in Surrey. When pursued, he engaged in a horrifying maneuver involving a Muggle flying device (an ‘aeroplane’) that nearly killed him – and which resulted in the deaths of his pursuers. Potter was finally detained by the Auror Department outside of Ottery St. Catchpole, and is expected to face trial within the week.

“After all, it’s not like the courts are particularly busy,” Kemester, a high-ranking Hit Wizard in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, noted bitterly, “although I expect this particular case to generate a fair bit of publicity.”

Kemester did not elaborate much about the initial reason for the Boy-Who-Lived’s dramatic flight from his home, yet he did state that Magical Law Enforcement officials had been called to his residence to address violations of the Reasonable Restriction for Underage Wizardry and the Statute of Secrecy. According to Kemester, the two officials are currently in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies, undergoing extensive healing procedures.

The Hit Wizard also told Prophet correspondents not to ‘interfere’ in Wizengamot proceeds and that all ‘appropriate’ information would be released in due process. “The public outcry is expected to be immense, but the law cannot be ignored in the view of popular opinion,” Kemester stated firmly.

This, however, may be impossible to actualize in reality, as Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge expressed in a public statement late last night upon being informed of the incident. The Minister stated in no uncertain terms that Potter’s ‘popularity’ will be a factor considered by the Wizengamot High Judges, and that he will receive treatment equivalent to everyone else.

“Potter will be treated like any other criminal,” the Minister stated firmly, “and ignoring the due process of law in favour of Dumbledore’s will is a flagrant violation of justice –“

Harry couldn’t read anymore. With a disgusted snort he tossed the paper back onto the table, watching the flimsy pages flutter before settling against the wood.

“How can they print something like this?” he asked furiously. “It’s libel, and the bias is thick enough to cut with a dragon’s tooth! You’d think that at least the Ministry can show some impartiality in the damned case! Aren’t you ‘innocent until proven guilty’ in the Wizengamot?”

“Harry, it’s been like this all year, and not just for you,” Sirius said in a low voice. “Dumbledore’s received plenty of heat too, because of his repeated attempts to convince the public Voldemort is back. Having something like this come out… well, it would be a field day for those in the Prophet who want to slander you for making the same comments.”

“They’re true!” Harry snarled, slamming his hand on the table – his temper had returned in full force, subsuming his panic with the aid of the exhausted sleep he had had the night before. “Voldemort is back!”

“But for Fudge’s propaganda campaign, your flight is a godsend,” Lupin explained, keeping his voice cautious against Harry’s building fury. “In one stroke, they can finish what Rita Skeeter started and discredit you completely by labeling you a criminal.”

“Just like what they did with me,” Sirius growled. “You think anyone will believe an ‘insane mass-murderer’? It’s a similar case…”

His voice trailed off, and Harry noticed the hesitancy in a second. Despite the correlation Sirius and Lupin were drawing, it wasn’t as similar as his godfather was trying to paint it.

“Don’t waste your time reading that rag, Harry,” Hermione said, nervous at the sight of Harry’s fury, picking up the paper and carefully folding it. “If anything, you should spend your time on your defense before the Wizengamot.”

“Presuming Fudge doesn’t pull a Crouch and have me thrown in Azkaban without a trial, just like Sirius,” Harry spat darkly.

“No legal precedent anymore, Harry,” Lupin said with a weak grin. “Besides, despite how much Fudge would want to do that, the only way it could potentially work politically would be if he admitted Voldemort was back and you were acting on his orders. Then he could potentially have precedent, but if he did that, everyone would know you were telling the truth all along, and Fudge would be the one discredited, not you.” He chuckled lightly, but Harry wasn’t laughing, and neither was Sirius.

“Think of it this way, Harry,” Mr. Weasley finally spoke up, carefully placing down his own copy of the Prophet and eyeing the angry young man through his thin glasses. “Kingsley is trying to secure for you an Auror military tribunal, not the full Wizengamot court. You’d have a better chance of getting your case across in one of those tribunals, and they’d also be more willing to listen to you. Trying you in the Wizengamot full court… you wouldn’t be able to get your case out before the judges tore you apart. Fudge officiates on that court, too, and he would easily be able to influence them against you, whereas the Aurors tend to think more before they pass judgments.”

“Doesn’t hurt that most of the Aurors are on our side,” Ron added as he took another large bite of his toast.

“Not all of them, though,” Lupin said cautiously. “And Rufus Scrimgeour – he’s the head of the Auror Department – knows that there’s something going on.”

“Of course, it doesn’t really help that Shacklebolt doesn’t even believe I’m innocent,” Harry snarled with disgust.

Lupin exchanged a quick glance with Sirius, who didn’t even try to hide his exasperation. “You have to realize, Harry, in legal terms, you aren’t innocent,” Lupin began softly.

“What else was I supposed to do, Lupin?” Harry said in a deadly soft voice. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“Harry, I don’t blame you for what you did for a second,” Sirius said quickly in a low voice, throwing a quick ‘I-told-you-so’ look at the fellow Marauder, “but the key now is getting you out of this. And you have a solid case, when you think about it, better than mine ever was. Your entire flight was instigated by one event – you casting the Patronus Charm to get rid of the Dementors. Clause Seven of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery states that you were allowed to cast said spell to save the lives of you and your cousin. If you can prove that your escape from Privet Drive was justified by your own fear that the Ministry would snap your wand before due process… well, the rest of your case falls into place.”

“You can only win this case by attacking the premise,” Hermione said softly, pulling out a paper and quill to start scribbling down notes. “If you prove that the Ministry shouldn’t have been there in the first place and that they acted without precedent, you can make the case that you were acting as a combatant against unlawful forces. And given that you didn’t take any action against civilians –”

Harry snorted in disbelief. “Hermione, I can barely follow or accept that argument, do you honestly think the Ministry will?”

Hermione looked indignant. “I’m trying to help here! It’s the only way you’ve got a chance to win this case with the tribunal!”

“Assuming Shacklebolt even gets it,” Harry said, frustration leaking into his voice as he picked up his toast. “So what am I looking at for sentences, if I get convicted?”

“Harry, there’s no need to be morbid –”

“This isn’t being morbid, this is facing reality,” Harry said testily. “What am I facing?”

“Heavy fines, likely Azkaban,” Lupin said heavily after a long pause. “Maximum sentence would be several years.”

He considered this for a few seconds as he slowly chewed the toast. The peanut butter tasted stale, and he swallowed quickly. “And if I cut a deal with that head Auror, Scrimgeour?”

Mr. Weasley, Hermione, and Ron all tensed. “Harry, what exactly are you thinking?” Ron asked carefully after a few seconds.

“It’s an idea I had before I fell asleep, but I got the impression last evening that there was some… animosity between the Auror Office and the rest of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” Harry began slowly, getting to his feet and beginning to pace. “They weren’t too happy when Kingsley brought me in.”

“Well, even though they are technically part of the same department, there is some… friction between the two groups,” Mr. Weasley said carefully. “Rivalry, mainly, between the Aurors and the Hit Wizards.”

“It’s widely known that the Auror Office has more political clout, and that the Hit Wizards don’t like it,” Sirius said grimly. “On the other hand, Aurors don’t typically like Hit Wizards that much, because they tend to get in the way during large-scale, high-profile investigations. Well, at least they did during the First War.”

“And the Hit Wizards would want me charged in the Wizengamot, right?”

“Obviously. More publicity for them,” Lupin said bitterly. “Big publicity for their office if you got convicted. And given that Bartholomew Kemester was killed, I bet many of them consider it a personal vendetta. He was a popular man, and his brother will think there’s hell to pay.”

“And where would the Aurors want me charged?” Harry asked coolly, cracking his knuckles as he paced.

“Well… those on our side would want you charged in the Auror tribunal, obviously,” Mr. Weasley said cautiously. “They don’t want to see you locked up. The others would be indifferent. Probably leaning towards the tribunal, simply because they know what the media circus in the Wizengamot would be like. Fact is, the media would likely hamstring your case even before it got brought before the open courts. An Auror tribunal would be mostly secret.”

“I don’t even think the media is even allowed into an Auror tribunal case,” Sirius mused, a small grin spreading across his face. “What are you thinking, Harry?”

Harry stopped and looked down the table. “Here’s what I’m thinking. I meet with Scrimgeour and convince him that it’s in his best interest to put this case to the Auror tribunal.”

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, scandalized. “You can’t bribe the Head of the Auror Office!”

“Even if he has a taste for politics,” Ron muttered. Mr. Weasley gave his youngest son an angry look, but Harry had heard the comment just the same, and his eyes lit with interest.

“Did I say bribe? No, I said convince. Big difference, Hermione. As I was saying, I convince him to hold the trial before the Auror tribunal, and then I put forward my case.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Hell, I can even run with what Hermione’s proposing. Odds are, I’ll likely still have to plead guilty.”

Ron’s face drained of colour. “Harry, you aren’t planning to –”

“I’m not going to Azkaban,” Harry cut him off harshly. “I’ll pay a fine or something – most people don’t know that I’ve got gold in any significant amount. Odds are, if Scrimgeour’s running the trial, he’ll likely tamp down the sentence.”

“And what makes you think that you can get him to do that?” Lupin asked suspiciously. “Harry, do you know something that we don’t?”

Harry turned to Sirius. “Can we talk, privately?” he asked in a low voice.

Sirius understood in a second and got up. “We’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said quietly as the two headed to the drawing room.

The second Sirius closed the door, he turned back to Harry, who was pacing again, a frustrated expression on his face. “Harry, what is this all about?” he asked, his eyebrows raising. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this, and unless Dumbledore told you something, you’re grasping at straws if you think I’ve got something on Scrimgeour. So what’s going on?”

“Politics.”

“Pardon?” Sirius couldn’t resist a snort as he leaned against the door. “You’ll need more than that, Harry, if you want to win this case.”

“Is what Ron said accurate?” Harry asked suddenly. “Does that head Auror... I think his name was Scrimgeour… does he have a ‘taste for politics’?”

“It’s fairly well-known, actually,” Sirius replied with a heavy sigh. “Rumor has it he wants to be Minister some day. Reminds me of Crouch, really.”

“Then he’ll be predictable,” Harry muttered.

Sirius crossed his arms over his chest. “Harry, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“The information that Voldemort’s back is going to come out sooner or later,” Harry said grimly, “and when it does, Fudge is going to get the sound thrashing he deserves. When that happens, who do you think will be an ideal contender for Minister? Scrimgeour’s going to have a fair shot, as former head of the Auror Department. Now let me ask you this: wouldn’t his campaign be bolstered if he was seen to be working with ‘the-Boy-Who-Lived’?”

“You’re talking about using your fame as a political weapon,” Sirius said thoughtfully after a few seconds of silence, scratching his beard. “Not what I’d expect… but it would be a good weapon. Especially when it comes out that you were right about Voldemort being back all along.”

“It’s not a weapon I want to use, you’re exactly right, but I don’t have much of a choice,” Harry finished, raising a finger. “I just promise Scrimgeour my support, tell him with good evidence that Voldemort is back, and then he starts preparing for his political campaign before Fudge knows what hit him.”

Sirius whistled. “It would be a tempting offer, but Scrimgeour’s got a reputation for being a suspicious and crafty bastard. He’ll want more than that.”

“I know, and that why I’ll need your help.”

Sirius cocked an eyebrow. “Harry, I still have a ten-thousand Galleon price on my head. I can’t exactly go about convincing Scrimgeour –”

“You don’t even need to leave this godforsaken house to help me now, Sirius,” Harry interrupted. “I need information you likely have.”

“About what?” Sirius asked, mystified. He suddenly tensed. “You know I can’t tell you anything about what the Order’s doing –”

Harry snorted with disgust. “Dumbledore’s orders, I know. But that’s not what I need.”

“What do you need, then?”

“I need to know if the Order of the Phoenix has anybody in Gringotts,” Harry said in a low voice.

Sirius looked startled. “Why would that even matter?”

“I need something on Scrimgeour and as many tribunal members as possible that aren’t on our side,” Harry growled, pacing even faster. “Odds are that if Scrimgeour has a taste for politics, like what Ron said, he’s got something to hide – probably in Gringotts.”

“Harry, you’re thinking of blackmailing the Head of the Auror Office!” Sirius said, aghast.

“I don’t have enough evidence yet for solid blackmail, though,” Harry said, as if he hadn’t even heard what Sirius had said. “What I need is the implication – a bluff of sorts that makes Scrimgeour overestimate me – and subsequently consider me as a stronger ally for his campaign. He’ll have more respect for a man he fears.”

“Harry, if Dumbledore catches wind that you’re planning –”

“Dumbledore’s got no say in what I’m planning,” Harry snarled. “Let me frank here, Sirius, just so you know the predicament I’m in. Dumbledore told me last night that there was some twisted prophecy that predicted I had to be the one to kill Voldemort before he kills me. In my opinion, the sooner this happens, the better – at least before Voldemort decides to start killing people just to get to me, because he knows part of the prophecy.”

Sirius’ face was white. “Damn it, Harry, so that’s the reason why Voldemort went after Lily and James! Even I didn’t know… wait, Dumbledore told you this?”

“Last night, he showed me,” Harry said with disgust. “He also said that he was planning on not telling me until later, but since I ‘now have blood on my hands’, he thought I was ready.”

Real anger was showing on Sirius’ face now. “How can he make that judgment? How dare he? You should have known years ago!”

“I understand his logic – he wanted to keep me happy,” Harry replied, his voice softening wistfully for a second before hardening. “But then again, he also said it was too dangerous to start training me this year to fight Voldemort.”

“What?” Sirius exclaimed, shock and anger warring for dominance in his voice. “You can’t be serious! What if he comes after you? You’ll need to be able to defend yourself!”

Harry’s hand clenched into a fist. “Believe me, I know that, so I’m planning on taking matters into my own hands. Dumbledore can try and defend me all he wants, but right now I don’t need protection – well, okay, I do, but I also need to be ready to face Voldemort, not cowering behind Dumbledore, and I can’t get ready if I’m sitting in a cell in Azkaban.”

“Dumbledore’s going to try and defend you in court, you know that, Harry,” Sirius replied, his anger abating slightly. “Though with the way things are right now –”

“He could do more damage than help in this case, and he knows it,” Harry said quietly. “If nobody believes him, or they think he’s trying to destabilize the government, they won’t listen to a word he – or I – says. That’s why I’m trying to handle this on my own – I’ll need practice anyways if I’m going to be taking on Voldemort.”

“Harry… Merlin, you know we want to help, right?” Sirius finally said after a long silence. “So does Dumbledore, and Hermione, and though you might not believe it, even Kingsley’s trying to help too.”

“Sirius, I’m not asking for their help, I’m asking for yours,” Harry said steadily, his eyes blazing.

“I’ll do whatever I can,” Sirius said instantly. “I understand what you need, and frankly,” he added with a ghost of a smile, “I’m more than a little impressed. You’re growing up and getting some guts along with it.” He swallowed hard and looked away, emotion nearly causing his voice to break. “It’s like I’m seeing James all over again…”

Harry swallowed back the lump in his throat, and for a second, his anger abated, and he felt the ball of fear and panic in his stomach tremble. He was guessing wildly, he knew that, and everything could be for nothing if he couldn’t find anything in Gringotts – or if everyone found out that he didn’t really have everything figured out…

“Thanks, Sirius,” he said quietly, walking next to his godfather and, hesitating with every movement, patted him on the shoulder. A second later, Sirius had pulled him into a tight hug, and Harry could feel his body shaking.

“I’m not losing you, Harry,” Sirius said, fighting the tremor in his voice. “Not again, not like I lost James. I’m going to help you however I can… I’ll be there for you…”

“T-Thank you, Sirius,” Harry said awkwardly as he broke away, feeling uncomfortable at the show of emotion on his godfather’s face. “So, is there anyone at Gringotts who we can –”

“Bill Weasley, but he’s not the man you want,” Sirius said after a second of thought, his composure returning in an startling instant. “He’s too loyal to Dumbledore, and he’d report anything you might try and do. You want someone in the Department of Magical Finance at the Ministry.”

“No, I don’t,” Harry said flatly. “Scrimgeour could reach them there, and the last thing I need is for him to rat out my material. At least if I get information from Gringotts, the goblins will stall any investigation Scrimgeour might make.”

“That’s true,” Sirius admitted, starting to pace a bit himself. “I do know an accountant who works out of Gringotts. Rich wizard named Welmon, Vesperian Welmon. He was the one who got my vaults and investments arranged after I ran away.”

“You ran away?” Harry asked, shocked. “From here?”

“When I was sixteen,” Sirius said bitterly, stopping next to one of the many glass cabinet around the room and giving it a good kick with his foot. “I’d had enough of all of it. My parents and their pureblood tripe, my idiotic brother who bought all of it, my damned relatives, most of whom became Death Eaters or married them –”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Yeah, Regulus,” Sirius said, his voice getting even more bitter as he turned towards a large tapestry hanging on the wall. “He died years ago… considering he joined the Death Eaters, you can’t be surprised…”

Harry could hear the trace of pain in Sirius’ voice, and he swallowed hard again despite himself. “Sirius, can you contact Welmon for me?”

“I’m on the run, Harry, I can’t do much,” Sirius replied with a slightly bemused expression. “You’d be better off talking to Welmon yourself.”

“Well, right now I’m supposed to be in Ministry custody,” Harry said with a humorless grin, “so I’m no better off.”

“Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“You could be pretending to go to Gringotts to speak with a lawyer in finance about managing your accounts,” Sirius said slowly. “Then, while you’re at Gringotts, you couldn’t be touched – goblins wouldn’t want their clients endangered under privacy protocol. If you were to sneak into Gringotts under your Invisibility Cloak with a member of the Order, you could be able to set up your meeting with Welmon while the Order member sets up for your escape…”

“You think you could convince someone from the Order to go along with that?” Harry asked incredulously. “In Dumbledore’s eyes, that could be considered betrayal.”

“Sure,” Sirius replied. “She’s a friend of mine in the Auror Department, Nymphadora Tonks, only just joined the Order on Moody’s advice. Her mother Andromeda was my favourite cousin, and she and I got along famously.”

“And what makes you think this Nymphadora –”

“Only call her Tonks, Harry,” Sirius warned. “She hates her first name.”

“Whatever… what makes you think she can be trusted?” Harry asked sharply.

Sirius was silent for a few seconds. “Well,” he finally began, “she’s Moody’s protégé, and Moody’s on your side, even if he won’t say it.”

“What?”

“He’s had to do plenty of things that were on the edges of the law as an Auror that he didn’t want to do, Harry,” Sirius said quietly, “and he understands that you didn’t intend to get those officials killed last night. And he wants Voldemort finished as much as any of us. You could trust him, and Tonks takes after him too.”

“It’s a good plan,” Harry admitted, his anger still simmering below the surface. “All right, can you talk to this Auror and get this plan working?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Harry blew out a long breath of air. “Well, that at least covers that angle. If I frame the bluff well enough, Scrimgeour will be between a rock and a hard place of his own creation, and I’ll be free and clear.” He sighed with frustration. “Ron and Hermione won’t like this – they can’t know what I’m planning. I can’t let them get involved, it’s not safe.”

“They’re your friends, Harry,” Sirius said, slightly surprised and concerned at Harry’s vehemence.

“I don’t care, it’s too dangerous… and they’re too loyal to Dumbledore – Hermione directly, and Ron through Mr. Weasley,” Harry muttered, ignoring the disapproving look on Sirius’ face. “I want to trust them… but I can’t make any mistakes here, especially if Voldemort chooses to interfere.”

Sirius put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and looked deep into his eyes. “I won’t betray you, Harry. I swore to James I wouldn’t.”

“Good, because I need your help with one more thing,” Harry said in a low voice. “I need all the information possible about the First War with Voldemort and the Death Eaters.”

“What kinds of information?”

“Everything. I want spells used, major and minor fights, any sort of court cases, anything the Ministry did to try and fight, what the old Order of the Phoenix did, and everything that even relates to Voldemort.” Harry gave Sirius a steely expression. “There could be patterns if Voldemort tries something again.”

“He doesn’t have the same manpower as before, thankfully,” Sirius said, keeping his own voice quiet. “Most of his better Death Eaters are in Azkaban.”

“Not for long,” Harry said grimly. “The Dementors will go to Voldemort the second he asks them – Dumbledore got that one right – and he’ll be back to his old strength in no time. The fiend’s got a reputation for making insidious plans, and if we even want to have a hope of stopping him, we need to catch him quickly.”

“Dumbledore’s already trying to do this –”

“Well, it’s not like he’s sharing the information,” Harry said exasperatedly. “I don’t want to have to do this, but if he’s going to keep things from me, I need my own source of information.”

“You know I can’t tell you much about what the Order’s doing now, Harry,” Sirius whispered.

“I’m not asking for that,” Harry whispered back fiercely. “I doubt anyone’s even asked for this information. But you lived through the First War, Sirius, and so did a lot of the other Order members, I’m guessing. I didn’t. I need to know this if I’m going to be ready to take Voldemort down.”

Green eyes met grey eyes, and they both understood.

“I’ll do what I can, Harry,” Sirius said in a low voice.

“Good, because this conversation never happened,” Harry replied quickly, moving towards the door. “I may be fifteen, but Voldemort’s not waiting, and neither am I.”

“You know, Harry, that this is going to be ugly,” Sirius said as Harry’s hand closed on the doorknob. “And not just with the Ministry.”

Harry swallowed hard, as he imagined the looks of disappointment and betrayal on the faces of Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore when they finally discovered the truth behind Harry’s newest plan. He tried not to let the feelings show on his face, but he couldn’t stop the tremor in his voice.

“Believe me, Sirius, I know. By Merlin, I know.”