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SD: CH36 - Aggressive Negotiations Part 1
🕑 Added 2023-02-05 15:02:08 +0000 UTCThe Ministry of Magic was ostentatious.
Like, seriously.
Hestia and I had floo’ed to the Ministry atrium, and I found myself standing at one end of a very long and splendid hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor. They inlaid the peacock blue ceiling with gleaming golden symbols that kept changing like some enormous heavenly noticeboard. The walls on each side were panelled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them. Every few seconds, a witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft whoosh. On the right-hand side, short queues were forming before each fireplace, waiting to depart. The more I took in, the more I realised how horrible the movie interpretation felt compared to the real thing.
“This way,” said Hestia, and I turned to glance at a familiar fountain. The fountain of Magical Brethren stood in all its glory, golden water sprinkling in and out of it. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. The tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of their wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat, and each of the house-elf's ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the pops and cracks of people apparating in, and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards, most of whom were wearing glum, early-morning looks, strode towards a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall.
“This way,” Hestia prodded a star-struck me to move forward. “We need to register our wands first.”
“Is that a rule?” I asked, slipping the wand hilt I had purchased from Borgin into the bottomless depths of my mokeskin pouch.
“Why did I know you were going to ask me that?”
“It’s a mark of an excellent secretary.”
Hestia looked at me, amused. “Good point.”
The registration desk had eight aurors, all of them having their wands out, and three more, in a bluish-variant of the Auror robes, that were standing in three different places, away from the Desk, looking around scrutinizingly.
“Hit wizards,” Hestia explained. “And before you ask it, yes, they curse first and ask questions later. They’re allowed to do so.”
Silently, we passed through the wand inspection, followed by a quick Wand-summoning charm and something that felt loosely like a Scourgify, but was a scan for anti-summoning trinkets. I almost objected when an Auror demanded me to reveal the pouch before another quick diagnostic spell scanned through the contents. Finally satisfied with the proceedings, they let us move towards the elevator section.
If this was how the real Ministry of Magic was, just how dangerous was Voldemort and his Death Eaters?
It was a sobering thought.
I had several people recognizing me and shaking my hands at the elevator, a behaviour I was still getting used to. We steered clear of the elevator crowd at the first exit, dropping out to visit the DMLE offices. We passed through several glass-rooms divided into cubicles that looked too small to fit even a single person, but somehow squeezed an entire table and chair set, a fuck ton of paper, and several people looming over them.
We walked across the corridor until we reached Courtroom One, where the case would be formally submitted, and testimonies taken.
“Hestia, it’s about—” came Nymphadora’s voice as she approached us. She paused midway, realising the breach in decorum, and quickly changed her tone. “Ahem, I mean, Mr. Potter, you and your secretary… Please come with me.”
She took us to a large, sprawling desk where a slim guy in Auror robes with fish white skin, square face and ink black hair sat, with several chairs spread out on our side of the table, separated by a partition. I barely suppressed a grin as I saw Narcissa Malfoy seated on one side, next to a rather stiff, dour-looking woman dressed in dark purple robes. I noticed a third Auror in the room, with thin, sunken eyes, a face tapering in a thin goatee and long, shoulder-length hair. He gave me a squinted look, as if trying to determine if I was real or a figment of his imagination.
Narcissa met my eye for a single second, the edges of those thin eyes narrowing ever so subtly, before looking away.
This was going to be interesting.
“Mr. Potter,” said the slim guy as we took our seats, while Nymphadora moved around to stand in one corner. “My name is Gawain Robards. I’m in charge of this investigation. I understand you filed the complaint against Messrs. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle?”
I nodded.
“Cadet Tonks has claimed that Messrs. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle assaulted you at Florean Fortescue’s ice-cream parlour yesterday, during the evening hours between four and five. Is that correct?”
I nodded again.
“I also understand that you did not raise your wand against them.”
“No, he beat them with physical force like a muggle,” sneered the other Auror. He had a thick, throaty voice. I noticed how he moved around to stand behind me. It was a simple psychological ploy I had seen the FBI use back in my previous life. His presence, now out of my line of sight, was an irritant and a distraction.
Especially since I didn’t know his name.
I inhaled and exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry, but is this an interrogation? If it is, I must wonder why I’m the one being questioned, while Malfoy was the one that used the unforgivable on me in front of multiple witnesses?”
“This isn’t an interrogation, Mr. Potter,” said Robards. “This is a deposition.”
“It could be,” said Goatee from behind. “We know you were behind it, Potter. It’s best you speak the truth before we force-feed you veritaserum.”
“Thicknesse,” said Robards, “Get out.”
“You can’t order me out,” claimed Thicknesse as he stood next to me. “I’m a duly appointed representative of the Minister and an Auror.”
“You’re useless, unprofessional, and impending this deposition,” said Robards, his tone flat. He turned his dark eyes at Thicknesse and said, “Now Get. Out.”
Robards had one hell of a glare. Some men do. They can look at you and tell you, without saying a word, that they are perfectly capable of doing violence and willing to show it. That look doesn’t convey any particular, single emotion or anything that can be put to words. Robards didn’t need any words. He just stared at Thicknesse with some faint shadow of Death himself in his eyes and did nothing else.
Thicknesse flinched. He muttered something about the Minister knowing about it, and left the room.
Robards turned towards me, and his expression softened briefly. “Apologies for that interruption. Auror Thicknesse is rather… spirited, when it comes to the Minister’s orders.”
“I understand,” I said with a nod. Robards gave me a sharp look before glancing at the file on his desk. “I’ve studied the file. Crimes under Section 307 subsection 11 on Use of an unforgivable, Subsection 7 on Attempt on murder or cause grievous injury, and Section 206 Subsection 2 on spell violence in public.”
His gaze flickered from me to Narcissa and then back to me. “Normally a case like this is directly relegated to a customary Wizengamot hearing, but Mr. Malfoy is, as you’ll know, the Heir Apparent of House Malfoy, and the Heir Presumptive of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, not to mention, juvenile. The Minister has requested that I oversee this case, especially since he believes, and Miss Snyde, Mr. Malfoy’s In-House counsel believes — you are the primary instigator behind this violence.” He held up a finger as I opened my mouth to speak, “However, the degree of this instigation, if it exists, is so far unproved, and…”
“There is nothing to prove,” spoke the Snyde woman. “There were witnesses at the scene. A veritaserum testimony will prove exactly what Mr. Potter did there. He walked into my clients, instigated them to attack him, and things went out of hand. This boy is just as, if not more guilty than my clients.”
“That’s Lord Potter to you,” Hestia bristled. “But I can see where you’re coming from, what with defending a criminal and everything.”
Snyde sneered at her.
“Miss Snyde,” said Robards, “your client isn’t accused of his crimes. We have found him guilty of his crimes, and we have witnesses that can testify against him.”
“They coaxed him into it,” Snyde shot back.
“Perhaps,” said Robards, “but it does not justify the use of an unforgivable. Even the mere casting of an Unforgivable is punishable by a three-month stay in the low-security wing of Azkaban, and for juveniles, it is Six months community service, plus a black mark on their resume. Mr. Malfoy did not just cast it, but also performed it on Mr. Potter, in front of multiple witnesses.”
“Bah!” scoffed the woman. “They’re just Potter’s fangirls, crushing on the Boy-Who-Lived.”
“I have nothing but disdain for Potter,” came Susan’s voice from behind, as she walked in, with Hannah and Penelope in tow. “Take care what insults you offer, Madam Attorney.”
That actually gave me a moment’s pause, as they say. Susan walked in and sat on the chair beside Hestia, while Tonks conjured more chairs for Hannah and Penelope.
“Miss Bones,” said Robards, “I understand you’re a prime witness in this?”
Susan nodded. “As is my friend Hannah and Miss Penelope Clearwater.”
I wondered if they trained all pureblood women to speak with that elegant mix of charm and disdain in their tone, or if it was just Susan and Narcissa that turned out that way.
“Auror Robards,” said Narcissa, “I wish to discuss matters privately with Mr. Potter. Perhaps we can reach an out-of-court settlement?”
I narrowed my eyes. During this entire debacle, Narcissa had stayed mightily quiet, content to watch the discussion devolve from the sidelines, while occasionally throwing me strange, knowing looks. I won’t deny that it made me feel somewhat uncomfortable, especially now that she wanted to have a private talk. Was she trying to blackmail me by spilling our private secret? No, that would do more harm to her than me.
“Lady Malfoy—” Robards began. “Your son—”
“Cast an unforgivable. I’ve heard.” Her eyes flickered at me. “However, I believe I can convince Mr. Potter to… shall we say, reconsider things considering a classmate’s future? Perhaps Mr. Potter is a believer of second chances like Albus Dumbledore?”
I snorted. Fat chance of that happening. Still, I was undeniably curious what she wanted to talk to me about.
“After all,” said Narcissa, “Mr. Potter is a Black himself. As am I, as is my son. Surely we can reach a compromise?” Her eyes drilled into mine. “Between one Black and another?”
I narrowed my eyes. Surely she wasn’t suggesting what I thought she was? Either way, it was enough to stir my curiosity.
Narcissa turned towards Robards. “If you would, could you kindly set up one of the settlement rooms for us to discuss in private? Provided…” her gaze flickered at me, and I sensed a challenge in them, “Mr. Potter does not object to it?”
No. Say no. She can’t do anything. Say no and let him suffer. This doesn’t need to get complicated.
“Okay,” said my mouth, without confirming with the rest of me.
Damn it. Me.
“Har—sir,” Hestia objected, doing her best to maintain her professionalism while doing her best not to glare at me. “I strongly object to that.”
“Miss Jones, isn’t it?” Narcissa drawled. “I see you’ve latched yourself to young Mr. Potter here. Unfortunately, you haven’t learnt to keep your mouth shut in the presence of your betters. This is a conversation between myself and your employer, and, as I’ve just stated, matters that involve the Black family. It’s a very… intimate thing,” her eyes stayed on my face for a second as she said those words, “so kindly… keep out.”
Hestia looked ready to mutiny and instead glared at me.
I held her gaze for a long second and said. “It’s alright.”
“But sir—”
I turned to Robards. “I assume these talks are private?”
Robards nodded. “If you wish.”
“I do.”
“Alright,” he stood up, “both of you will have to leave your wands here. I will administer a privacy ward and close the door behind as I leave. You have thirty minutes to discuss and come to a settlement. And I… don’t see why this has to turn out this way, but I know better than to poke my nose into Ancient House matters.”
“Potter,” said Susan, narrowing her eyes. “What the hell are you thinking? You don’t need to do this.”
Tonks didn’t actually say anything, but the curiosity in her eyes was open for everyone to see. Hestia, on the other hand…
“Sir,” she said, “can I request a moment of your time before you do that?”
I glanced at Narcissa, who looked utterly indifferent, and then at Robards, who was studying me like a hawk, before nodding. We walked to one corner of the room, and Hestia cast a privacy ward around us. I had seen those in action before and knew that as far as the others were concerned, we just faded out of existence. And then Hestia whirled around and faced me.
“What the hell is this?”
I arched an eyebrow, but said nothing.
“Do you not realise the foolishness you’re about to do? That’s Narcissa Malfoy. She’s a shark, Harry. She’ll tear you to bits and you’ll thank her for it. I don’t…” she paused, before she met my eyes for a second.
“You know her, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said, “she’s Narcissa Malfoy.”
Her lips pursed. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“No.”
Hestia considered that, a faint frown line appearing between her brows. “Liar.”
“If I tell you, you will not believe me. So no, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Hestia nodded for a moment. “What she’s doing could be construed as obstructing and interfering with the investigation. If you decide to accept whatever settlement she offers, they might even see it as fishy on your part. Not to mention it will anger little Red there.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not trying to woo Bones, believe me. Honestly, Hestia, I wish you’d start trusting me with things.”
“And I wish that you’d tell me what that bitch has on you. But I guess neither of us is going to get what we want.”
I propped my chin on my hand and thought about it for a moment. I gave it even odds that if it displeased Hestia, she might get the Order into investigating things, to ensure my safety if nothing else. She would not betray my secrets, but neither the vows I had her take, nor the slowly growing Anchorage would keep her from acting behind my back. It was during moments like these when I truly wondered if having her was a boon or a bane.
“This stays private?”
“Of course, sir.”
“This has to do with my long-term plans involving the Black family. I plan to do something far up on the food chain in the corporate constellation that Narcissa Malfoy belongs to. And yes, I believe she will aid me in this venture.”
“You are out of your mind.”
“Good to know that you’ve so much trust in me, Hestia,” I chirped.
“So I was right. You know her.”
“Yes.”
“Does this…” she paused for a moment, “you know, have anything to do with your powers?”
I arched my eyebrow, trying to mimic Susan.
“... Never mind,” Hestia murmured. “I was just… no, that’d be just stupid. But you realise that she’ll try to hold her future contributions as a bargaining chip to get her son out…”
She paused, and her palm went to her lips. “You — you absolute, crazy son of a bitch!” Her eyes shone. “You set this up, didn’t you? Knowing that she’d wish for an out-of-court settlement and you’d get her to do whatever you want. This — you were expecting this to happen right from the start!”
This time, it was my turn to smile. “You know what they say. A charging bull always looks at the red cape. Not the man with the sword.”
Hestia grinned.
