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SD: CH131 - At The Wizengamot Part 1
🕑 Added 2024-10-15 17:26:38 +0000 UTCThe last time I was at the Ministry of Magic, it had been to attend Draco’s little trial at the DMLE. It had been a quick trip from the Wand Registration desk and Inspection Counter, to the elevator and right away to the DMLE offices located on the First Floor, to Courtroom One, where Auror Robards had overseen the testimonies and its fallout. This time, the elevator went down further, all the way to Level 9, where a soft ‘ding’ alerted us of the Department of Mysteries.
Hestia and I stepped out of it, smartly walking through the serpentine tunnels, noting the black, polished tiles that seemed to cover every goddamn surface, leaving just a single, rather plain, black door at the far end of the corridor. There was no handle, nor an obvious means of entry, but a hooded guard informed us to take to the left, where a series of steps led down to an alcove with a long, stone-cold tunnel past it.
“Ready, Harry?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I muttered. “Just confirming, what are the chances these people are gonna try to arrest me the moment I mention the Black lordship?”
“Trust me, Harry, there’s a lot going on around that’s far, far bigger than the Black seat. And we all know who we have to thank for that.”
“Why, Lucius Malfoy of course.”
Hestia rolled her eyes. “Speaking of, there have been rumours of Lucius Malfoy being spotted somewhere south of Wiltshire. I believe the Director already has people acting on it.”
“Lingering around his manor,” I murmured. “Guess they should raid his house for a start.”
Hestia was having trouble suppressing her urge to grin like a loon. “Maybe they will.” She paused, and pointed at a door with a dull and stained brass plaque, with the number 10 plastered on it.
“That one, I believe.”
The first time ‘Harry Potter’ walked down these steps and entered this courtroom, he was absolutely terrified out of his wits, apprehensive of his future, and going crazy wondering why in Hell couldn’t he have a normal life for once. Me on the other hand, was walking into the courtroom, dressed in fancy, purple robes, with a large W pinned right over my heart, ready for my very first Wizengamot session as Lord Potter.
Yes, the irony was not lost on me. As was the realisation that my knowledge from the books was little to useless now.
“Everyone is expecting the new Lord Potter,” said Hestia. “Your little stunt at the Auror office earlier in the summer, and your purchase of Phyllida Greenhouses both made it to the business circles. People are wondering about the sudden shifts in Sleekeazy, and if you are truly the Lord Potter. I think Madame Longbottom has already spoken to a few Houses, and Director Bones threw a look at me, so chances are she might have informed some among her group too.”
She grinned happily, reminding me that Hestia was in her element.
“Good to know.”
I let her lead me through, trying to remember the protocols that she and Narcissa had independently drilled into my brain, though it sort of got lost as I stepped in and took in the inner architecture.
The walls of the chamber were dark stone interspersed with metal sconces that lit the room but did little to remove the chill from the air. The room was a vast circle and oddly reminded me of the Great Hall of Hogwarts, with tiered seats on all sides except two openings on either end. The entirety of the Wizengamot was seated on the two longer walls, with the Ancient Houses on the top row, stripped in gold, but couldn’t see them well in the dim light. The middle row had all kinds of important-looking people, and Ministry officials. The lower row, with its chairs of silver upholstery, was for the newest members of the Wizengamot: the minor Houses, the Order of Merlin recipients. Finally, the base-tier had the Minister sitting, with other prestigious seats like those of the Chief Warlock, the DMLE Director, and two arcs of benches for the prosecution and the defence counsel to sit on, circumferencing the area in the middle, where a large cage sat, with an inky blackness covering the contents within.
“Ah, Harry, m’boy,” said Cornelius Fudge in his overly bombastic manner, but his spirit was absent. Having one’s primary advisor declared an international criminal by multiple countries, while also suffering from the aftermath of the largest international genocide Britain had seen in decades, supposedly perpetrated by said advisor, Cornelius was going through what was probably the worst PR nightmare one could imagine.
I took note of Sebastian Delacour sitting in the plaintiff section, along with several other faces I could recognize from the Top Box. The man’s eyes widened slightly and gave me a nod in acknowledgment. I looked up at the viewing gallery above, and found it jam-packed with reporters and paparazzi. With the names that would be thrown about today, it would stir a massive controversy. Finally, I spotted Dumbledore glancing at me, the frown on his face dissolving the moment I met his eyes, replaced by a familiar grandfatherly smile. It went back to being a frown the moment I looked away.
“Seal the doors!” He ordered as he took his place.
“Seal the doors!” The Auror in charge of security repeated, and the gathering quieted, the torches on the walls flaring up at the command.
The mannerisms and methods of the Wizengamot mirrored its muggle equivalent in a great many ways. The Chief Warlock banged the gavel, and the Court Scribe, a portly man that wasn’t Percy Weasley, stood up and began the roll-call, naming the members in alphabetical order, with the Lords, Regents, or their proxies standing up to register their presence. The Ancient Houses had a total of three votes to themselves, unlike the normal ‘registered’ pureblood families, that held two votes each. The top tier, that is the Nobility, held a whopping seven votes, which was why most families — Ancient or otherwise, tended to flock towards them. Finally there were the Head of Departments at the Ministry, and the Order Of Merlin recipients that held a single vote.
Fortunately for me, House Potter was part of the Nobility, as was House Black, which meant a total of fourteen votes on my side. Not to mention the Order of Merlin I had gotten for supposedly ‘vanquishing’ the Dark Lord as a baby.
But fourteen votes meant diddly against the entire Wizengamot if you had no one on your side. And that was my true goal for today’s event.
Unfortunately, House Black’s presence was declared by a middle-aged man with a hawk-like face, introducing himself as a certain Arnold Snyde, Lucius’s proxy. I watched as the man read out House Black’s name, alongside House Malfoy, Flint, McNally, Lestrange, Greengrass and Dolohov, finishing with a grand declaration of a massive twenty-four votes.
I swear I am going to make that man jobless soon.
I noted that Ollivander too was a Noble and Most Ancient House and had strong ties with House Bones, a nice surprise given that House Bones was soon going to jump ship with me. As the Roll-call proceeded to a close, House Weasley’s name was called in, where Arthur Weasley stood up, representing four votes — three from the Ancient status of his House, and one from his role as the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. Hestia informed me that one of the reasons the Weasley family was so poor was because Arthur spent a large amount of his income in paying the dues to maintain his House’s Ancient status at the Wizengamot, even if it meant living a life of poverty. It didn’t help that the man was brutally honest and his pro-muggleborn beliefs made him a direct opponent of Lucius Malfoy.
And then it was finally my turn.
“The Wizengamot calls House Potter. Who stands?”
“I do,” I said, and stood up, making sure to exercise my allure in moderation. As Incubus Lord, just standing in a crowd was more than enough to cause it to break into an orgy. I had to tone my presence down to the limits that it appeared as my innate charisma instead of some psychic allure.
“Harry Potter, Lord of House Potter. Seven votes.”
It was only after I had said my piece that I noted an old, short and bent man standing up from the middle row, looking at me in abject curiosity.
“Well?” asked the court scribe.
“Elphias Doge,” said the man. “Proxy to House of Potter. Uh, Seven votes.”
I narrowed my eyes. Nowhere in the documents had I seen anything about House Potter using Elphias as a proxy for their Wizengamot sessions. And the worst part? Doge was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and a Dumbledore loyalist. Had I, perchance, stepped into one of those ‘fanfiction’ worlds where Dumbledore was secretly using the Potter votes and the fortune for his own agendas? Surely that was just bad writing, and an actual twist on the real thing?
…Right?
Even Cornelius Fudge was looking at me in confusion. I noticed Dumbledore open his mouth. Knowing him, it would start with a ‘Harry my boy,’ and end up with some flowery argument that deserved the minimal amount of my attention. Thankfully, someone else spoke before he could.
“Noted,” said the Scribe. “House Parkinson, next. Who stands?”
The rest continued without any major distractions.
And then Albus Dumbledore stood up.
“One hundred and sixteen votes have been cast, fulfilling the quorum requirement of ninety-one votes. As Chief Warlock, I declare the August Session of the Wizengamot open.”
Cornelius Fudge stood up to give his welcoming speech, one that was full of rhetoric about Wizarding Britain still standing strong despite the recent calamity that struck the Quidditch World Cup. He went on to speak about the valour and the sacrifice of the DMLE staff that lost their lives to the explosion and the insurgent forces that wanted to promulgate mass fear and commit all kinds of heinous crimes. He thanked the members of the DMLE that fought the insurgents and the werewolves and brought the criminals to justice. He went on to describe the support offered by the security staff of the foreign dignitaries as well as emphasised how terribly sorry he was for allowing such oversight to happen in his administration, promising stringent punishment and swift justice to be delivered in this session. Finally, he mentioned that the DMLE Director had exercised her discretionary powers and installed Martial Law, and so, all of his Executive powers are effectively null and void until this august body heard the DMLE Director’s statements, and made a decision to let the Martial Law stay for a longer duration, or withdraw it, and return power to the Minister’s office. With that, he left the floor for Amelia Bones to speak.
Amelia, true to her nature, did not bother with honeyed words or formalities.
“I now call to order this debriefing of events,” said the DMLE Director, taking the dais, giving a look at each and every single row as she did a three-sixty degrees turn. I met her eyes and smiled, but Amelia didn’t so much as twist her lips.
“Over the last three days, the DMLE has made extensive investigations, conducted raids and interrogated every single one of the thirty-four arrests made at the site of crime. While the DMLE will release a more detailed statement at a later date, with various institutions and individuals, I have gathered a list of salient points to go over what is officially known and being done. Only after I am done making my statements, uninterrupted, will I field any questions from this august body. Beyond that, I will moderate any further discussion, and treat any obstacles as exactly that — obstructions to the law, and act accordingly.
I suppressed the urge to whistle. Amelia had told me that while the Ministry of Magic was run by the Minister, the DMLE, the Department of Mysteries and the Department of International Magical Cooperation could operate with a massive degree of autonomy when certain conditions were fulfilled. That said, the budget funding the working of all three departments was still in the Minister’s own hands, which was exactly why Amelia Bones had to personally fund her staff to function like they were.
With the Martial Law activated, she was, quite literally, the real power in the room. And unless the Wizengamot could find a genuine reason to demand her to deactivate Martial Law, or Amelia herself gave it up, things would stay the same.
“I will begin by saying that the Head-Auror Rufus Scrimgeour, and Senior-Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt perished in the line of duty in the explosion. As such, all investigation and interrogation has been conducted by Auror Gawain Robards, Obliviator Emmeline Vance and their respective units.”
I blinked. That was new. The DMLE was using Legilimens for interrogation? No wonder Amelia knew she had everyone by their balls. Given the pale looks in the crowd, they knew it too.
“At roughly 1800 hours on August 23, the night of the finals of the Quidditch World Cup, an unidentified magical explosive detonated the World Cup stadium, causing the deaths of fifty-two Aurors, seventy-one recruits, sixty-seven hit-wizards and at least six hundred and ninety-one civilians.”
Silence hit the Wizengamot like a tidal wave, and Amelia let it build.
“Following that, a group of insurgents that the DMLE suspects to be members of the insurgent group known as the Death Eaters, along with an army of rogue werewolves attacked the survivors. Since the members of the Top Box were removed from the building when the explosion happened, and after identifying the major points of attack, the DMLE has concluded that these insurgent attacks were aimed towards systematic assassination of individuals, ranging from entire families to visiting delegates.”
“How are you certain that they were Death Eaters?” began someone from the top row. “For all we know, they could be —”
BANG!
The thundering sound from Amelia’s wand shut the man up. “No interruptions meant no interruptions. Lord Mulciber.”
“But —”
“Whether the arrested are truly Death Eaters or not, is irrelevant, Lord Mulciber. What matters is that they were found guilty of causing the largest genocide in recent history. Now, I will request you to withhold questions until the end or be removed from this quorum.”
Mulciber sat down.
Amelia’s eyes flickered towards Sebastian Delacour before she continued. “Our investigations have found evidence of certain compounds in the bodies of the werewolves that suggest they were operating under their senses. Currently, the Beast Division is researching these compounds to see if it is possible to reverse-engineer them into whatever ingestibles were taken by these werewolves on that night.”
She paused. “And now, I will reveal the prisoners.”
She flicked her wand at the large cage, and the inky blackness within it dissipated, revealing….
“Lord Nott?”
“Timothy Warren?”
“Is that… Antonius Selwyn?”
“Yaxley! How did he —”
Whispers erupted in the courtroom, before another deafening bang shut them down.
“Director Bones,” said a man sitting at the lowermost tier. With his large forehead, extra-narrow chin that felt narrower courtesy of his tapering goatee, and the formal suit he was wearing in contrast to the general Wizengamot purple, he could only be one thing.
“I’m Pius Thicknesse,” he said. “The legal counsel and defence attorney for Messrs. Nott, Warren, Selwyn and —”
“What you are is a person failing to comply with the rules set for this forum,” Amelia retorted. I wondered if playing the strict dominatrix card in front of the entire Wizengamot was a good idea, before she continued. “The next person to speak will be removed forcibly, without warning.”
That shut him up.
“The arrested have been interrogated under Veritaserum, and we have twelve names, several of whom are among the arrested. After repeated verifications, we have been able to pinpoint it at one single person that is responsible for this dastardly act that has brought shame to Wizarding Britain. Sebastian Delacour, Minister of External Affairs of France, and his daughter Fleur Delacour are both plaintiffs and victims of this man’s direct, and multiple attempts to kill them that very night.”
“And who is that?” asked Cornelius slowly.
“Lucius Malfoy,” said Amelia, glaring at Fudge for speaking in between. True to her word, two Aurors moved ahead to physically grab Minister Fudge who instantly raised his hands up in surrender, and Amelia shook her head, gesturing the two to hold back.
She took out a long scroll of parchment, which floated itself midair. Her wand sparked dangerously, reminding everyone to stay silent, and she began reading out loud.
“After extensive investigation and interrogation, sworn statements under Veritaserum by plaintiffs, witnesses, verified memory evidence and finally, state-witnesses, we have come to the following conclusions:”
“Lucius Malfoy was found guilty of initiating an insurgency attack against Wizarding Britain, with the intent to cause a genocide of an international audience, set up the Dark Mark in the sky, create public terror and most importantly, cripple the DMLE and thus, bring Wizarding Britain to his knees.”
“Lucius Malfoy attempted to kill Sebastian Delacour and his daughter Fleur. Without the timely aid of one Harry Potter, both of them would be killed. Investigation has revealed Malfoy’s cut-off right arm, his wand attached to it. It is evident that multiple killing curses and other illegal spells were cast by the wand’s owner. The magic of course, matches Lucius Malfoy himself.”
“Investigation has revealed that the arrested were bribed, coaxed, and coerced by Lucius Malfoy to ensure the werewolves’s support in this massacre. Among the ones that were found dead in Death-Eater regalia, are Walden Macnair, Alecto Carrow, Amycus Carrow, Thomas Jugson, Albert Runcorn, and Selina Wilkins, all of which, aside from being Ministry personnel, are known associates of Lucius Malfoy, and Imperius victims of the last war.”
This time, Cornelius Fudge raised his hand.
The edge of her lips crooked in amusement. “Yes, Minister?”
“If they were Imperius victims, perhaps they were subjected to the Imperius once more?” offered Fudge. “They might all be innocent—”
“They bloody well were not —” growled Augusta Longbottom.
“Language,” chided Dumbledore.
I smirked. Trust Dumbledore to stay his hand when Fudge tried to paint the criminals as anything but, only to make a stand when someone used a cuss-word.
Amelia’s expression thinned. “I’d agree, Minister, if everything they did were under the influence of the Imperius curse. Veritaserum questioning, aided by the babbling potion, proved that not only did they act upon their own accord, they were also quite enthusiastic, with their personal agendas mixed in. Corban Yaxley, Auror, admitted to aiding Alecto and Amycus Carrow in killing Emmeline Vance, Kinglsey Shacklebolt, and myself, ensuring that Yaxley would rise to the position of DMLE Director next. In exchange, Alecto Carrow would be made the Head of Wizengamot’s Administration Services Department, while Amycus got the Top Obliviator’s job if Emmeline Vance was killed. Corban Yaxley claimed to have an understanding with Lucius Malfoy that would ensure the above happened. In fact, Malfoy’s closeness with you led Corban Yaxley to believe such a stunt was indeed worth attempting.”
Fudge looked like he couldn’t decide whether to turn red or blank white.
“For the next part, I’d like to summon Dirk Cresswell, Head of Goblin Liaison Office.”
A tall, lanky man with greying hair came down from the second row to the dais.
“Wizard Cresswell,” said Amelia. “Kindly enlighten the Wizengamot about the developments in regards to the Malfoy Vault at Gringotts.”
“Uh, yes,” said the man, looking a little worse for wear. “On August 24, at 0916 hours, we received three notifications from Gringotts, Diagon Alley branch. The first was a fully filled Form 61, where Lucius Malfoy used blood magic to cut his son Draco from the Malfoy name, magic and fortune. The second notification was that the trust vault belonging to Draco Malfoy was converted into a Common Vault belonging to Draco No-Name. The third notification was an entry of a new Last Will and Testament of Lucius Malfoy, which, among others, directed the transfer of all monies, properties and assets belonging to Lucius Malfoy to Draco No-Name’s Vault upon his death.”
“Does that mean that House Malfoy retains nothing in its vaults? Not even the minimal due for his wife Narcissa Malfoy?” asked Amelia.
Cresswell frowned. “We received a fourth notification from Gringotts, later during the day. We had intimated Gringotts about Lucius Malfoy’s official status as a fugitive, and asked Gringotts Bank to seal the Malfoy Vaults. However, because of a delay in the administration, the official warrant reached there about two hours late. During this time, Lady Narcissa Malfoy filed for divorce by exercising Clause 9, which allowed her to take away forty-five percent of the current liquid assets.”
Amelia turned to the audience. “A genocidal terrorist escapes Wizarding Britain, but before he does, he transfers his fortune, down to the last knut, to his next of kin, and cuts him off from the Malfoy name by blood and magic, ensuring that the Ministry cannot touch the gold. His wife, quite conveniently, takes away nearly half of his gold for herself. For all we know, this gold would find its way back to Lucius Malfoy’s hands.”
“We have heard enough!” yelled Mulciber. “I say Lucius Malfoy be declared Kiss-On-Sight.”
Someone said, “Arrest his wife!”
“The entire family are murderers!”
A significant majority of the Wizengamot vocally agreed on the proposals. Half of them were Death-Eater or Death-Eater sympathisers that were simply looking to use Lucius as their scapegoat, and sweep everything under the rug, while the rest were members of families that had lost people in the massacre, and wanted vengeance over everything else.
I wondered how Amelia was going to use this.
“With the general consensus in favour, I’d like to conclude my statements and move ahead with the show of hands. I think —”
“I object,” said Pius Thicknesse, standing up. “As much as I hesitate speaking before such a unanimously agreeing Wizengamot, I must say that my client Narcissa Malfoy is innocent.”
“Is she now? Wife of a Death Eater rumoured to the Left-Hand of the Dark Lord himself, escaped justice through the Imperius defence, and now caused the greatest genocide that this nation has seen in decades…. And you suggest she’s… innocent?”
“Being related by marriage to a criminal does not make one a criminal,” argued Thicknesse.
“True, but it does make you a suspect.”
“Then you should have no problem with me attempting to disprove that.”
Amelia merely smiled at him. I knew that smile. It was the type that important and powerful people used on the lesser ones. The type that stopped inferiors in their tracks and sent them into a quivering wreck. I had seen her use it on myself back during our ‘ten-minute’ meeting, only this time, it was a tad more terrifying.
“Please,” she said, smiling peacefully through her eyes. “The floor is all yours.”
I had to hand it over to Thicknesse. Even with his rather unassuming demeanour, the man had the fortitude to stand against Amelia in the fullness of her power. The man walked out of the bench and stood at the centre of the dais.
“Witches and wizards, my client Narcissa Black, formerly of House Malfoy, is innocent. She has no charges apart from being tied to Lucius Malfoy in marriage. She was not suspected to be a part of the Death-Eater radical group, nor proven to have a Dark Mark upon her arm. Exercising Clause 9 is her right as a pureblood wife of an Ancient family. Unless… we would be willing to break our own laws, and set a precedent, making it acceptable for pureblood women to be denied the rights ensured by their marriage contract?”
I suppressed the urge to smile. I hadn’t known how Narcissa would choose to represent herself at the Wizengamot, but it was nice to see she hadn’t gotten that Snyde woman again.
I glanced at Amelia, who pursed her lips, but said nothing.
“With permission from the DMLE Director, and this august body, I’d like to ask Wizard Cresswell to clarify a few things for me.”
Amelia’s frown deepened, but she consented.
“Thank you,” said Pius, striding ahead until he was standing right next to her. “Wizard Cresswell, you mentioned that there were a total of four notifications from Gringotts on the morning of August 24, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And one among them was the Last Will and Testament of Lucius Malfoy, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And Gringotts can certify that this document can and will override all previous wills drafted and attested by Lucius Malfoy?”
“Yes.”
“Could I ask you to read out the contents of the Last will and testament of Lucius Malfoy before this august body?”
Cresswell shook his head. “The Goblin Liaison Office only liaises between the Ministry of Magic and Gringotts Bank, London Branch. We have no authority to access any wills made by the vault owners without a formal warrant being submitted to Gringotts by the DMLE.”
“Hmmm, too bad, but tell me, Wizard Cresswell, does your authority extend over to verifying the authenticity of wills and testaments submitted to Gringotts?”
This time the man nodded in affirmation.
Thicknesse took out a document from within his sleeves and offered it to Cresswell. “Please identify this for the Wizengamot and verify if it is true.”
Cresswell did so. With permission from the Chief Warlock, he cast several diagnostic spells upon the document, before reading through the pages and giving Thickness surprised looks. “This is…”
“I know exactly what it is, Wizard Cresswell. But could you verify it?”
“It is authentic,” said the man instantly. “A copy of the original, of course, but the enchantments and the wordings on it have not been distorted. It is indeed a true copy.”
“Would you be so kind as to read it in front of the Wizengamot?”
“But this is…”
“Wizard Cresswell,” said Amelia, growing impatient. “Just read it out.”
“I… I cannot,” said Cresswell weakly. “A Will can only be read after the creator is certified to be dead. And even then, only those addressed in the Will are allowed to listen to its contents. I mean, if Lucius Malfoy is a wanted fugitive, then surely he is alive, and if that’s the case, this reading is a farce, because it won’t ever be executed.”
“Farce or not, it contains the reasoning behind the former Lady Malfoy’s actions,” challenged Pius. “Surely that is enough grounds for circumventing that rule?”
That led to a lot of whispering among the audience. Finally, a really, really old woman stood up.
“The Wizengamot recognizes Lady Arabella Brown,” cried the scribe.
“The laws of the Wizengamot must be respected. House Malfoy is an Ancient family, and the laws of inheritance proscribed in the Charter cannot be circumvented.”
Several others murmured their consent with her statement.
Dumbledore banged his gavel. “While there exists the Special Circumstances provision among many Ancient families in regards to their inheritance policy, the Wizengamot has registered no such addition in this case. Your plea for this Will-reading in presence of the Wizengamot is rejected, Wizard Thicknesse.”
Pius grit his teeth, and for a moment, I wondered if Narcissa had placed her bets upon the wrong horse.
“In that case,” said the man. “I’d like to call my next —”
“KIndly wait a moment, Wizard Thicknesse,” said Amelia, wolfishly. “You see, that little line at the end might have halted your attempt, but it opened up an entire vault of questions for me.”
Pius Thicknesse gritted his teeth.
Comments
Hadrian v.E.
I'm glad to see Harry being publicly acknowledged by the DMLE Director as a key person involved with saving the Delacours. Although he obviously doesn't want his full powers being publicly known, I'm sure he talked with Amelia beforehand to let some information trickle out to boost his own profile.
Alatoic
Wizengamot politics, love it when its well done and this appear it will be epic, first all the DE debacle, then all the new orders and powers given to Amelia, new people and last when Harry take his place as Lord Black. Hope Dumbledore dont try to intervene and the grey and white sides of the Wizengamot can make a good arrangement.
Heroville111
Cliff hanger anger🤣
yr45
Excellent.
