A/N: At last, things narrow down considerably, and we see the rather public replacement of Ginny, Luna and Draco to the positions they ought to hold…
Chapter XX: Treason!
Arranging Luna, Ginny and Draco into their respective positions at the Ministry was not a pleasant affair. The absence of Harry, Ron and Hermione had forced the levers of power in the hands of their current deputies, and on their own turn, they were assuming strong control over the policies and people in each department. Hermione was rapidly regaining her strength, and grudgingly, Madam Pomfrey had agreed that she accompany Harry and Ron, along with the other three, to the Ministry.
The fact that reporters from the Daily Prophet had appeared to cover the event, quickly disillusioned any hopes of a quiet replacement. Harry suspected with a strong rise of annoyance, that someone had surreptitiously passed on information regarding the change, to the three deputies. Once quiet and withdrawn, biding their time carefully, they had eventually agreed to form an alliance at the top of the Ministry, declare Harry, Ron and Hermione illegitimate, and wield their own influence over the lower echelons of Britain's Magical authority. That plan did not become apparent to the newcomers until the duel that followed later, and the deputies were promptly dispatched, along with their supporters.
The reception of the Golden Trio was a rather cool one, when they had only come in. Ordered to surrender their wands, they refused, and on their own turn demanded that the posts be returned to their rightful holders. Expectedly, that demand was met with resistance, and a verbal clash ensued, which threatened to involve wands sooner or later. Seemingly forgotten in the fray, and inconsiderate of their own safety, the Daily Prophet reporters were still madly scribbling when one of the followers of the ramshackle deputy triumvirate could no longer hold his patience, and fired a hex that sailed over the heads of Harry, Ron and Hermione, and nearly missed Luna , Draco and Ginny.
That was taken as the signal for unrestricted combat, and after a few seconds of awkward calamity, spells, curses and charms began to fly in every imaginable direction. Caught by surprise, and in the middle of the whole confrontation, some of the Prophet reporters dived for cover, while others with more grit threw down their parchments and quills, and entered the battle themselves.
Eventually, experience and class did say their word. Six fighters from the Voldemort campaigns proved too big a task to be handled by the three deputies and their crudely assembled following. Not fifteen minutes had passed, when most of the Aurors were unconscious on the ground, with their hapless leaders bound, and on their knees, with fury, shame and disbelief burning in their eyes. Harry, taking down his shield, but not lowering his wand, cautiously approached them. Those who were still in a shape to stand up and watch observed the proceedings in pregnant anticipation.
"What was the point of this?" Harry lowered his voice, asking his own deputy with malice.
The object of his hatred did not flinch in the slightest. "To show you and your goons the door," he responded with equal venom.
Harry did not entangle himself further. "The only doors you will see are those of Azkaban, and yes, they are wide open - for you, and your friends here."
"You are a headstrong one, Potter," the now former deputy of the Auror Department leered, "Only a matter of time, before Lestrange has her way with you."
"What do you know of Lestrange?" Ron shot up suddenly, bringing his wand to the unfortunate man's throat.
The mocking air of superiority on his face did not disappear, even at the prospect of being cursed, or worse, killed. "That's none of your business, fool."
"Crucio," Ron did not hesitate to mutter, and the excruciatingly painful spell shot from the tip of his wand. The deputy's face contorted with the pain, he clenched his teeth, but refused to utter a single sound. Once the curse ended, he continued to stare down Ron defiantly.
"Still won't speak, will you?" the redhead inquired rhetorically with anger. "Harry, arrange that these three cretins are taken to Azkaban as soon as possible."
"Certainly," Harry came up beside Ron, and looked down at the three of them with a mocking smile of his own. "The Dementors ought to do a better job of loosening their lips, wouldn't you say?"
"My thought exactly," Ron replied after a moment's silence.
"Come on, then," Harry waved his wand, and the aforementioned cretins were bound tighter and gagged, for their detention, until a trial with the charges could take place.
Hermione now stepped forward, observing the cowed multitude of Aurors that had chosen the side of the deputies, and they were responsible for assaulting the acting heads of the most important positions within the Ministry.
"What will you do with them, Hermione?" Ron asked in an undertone, as she observed the guilty with an icy glare.
"Just watch," she muttered back, and turned her attention to the Aurors. "I will offer you amnesty for participating in an act of treason, with the only condition that those who wish to remain bind themselves magically to be loyal to the Ministry, and those that choose not to reassert their dedication to what is right and just, must face the penalties associated with committing treason."
The only response to her words was a general murmur of assent, and the vigorous nods of the majority that they indeed accepted the peace terms.
"Those who desire to redeem themselves throw down your wands," Hermione ordered clearly, the hardness in her gaze not lessening as she said those words.
A great clatter sounded, as many wands did indeed hit the wooden floor. Ron was quick to summon them, and they formed a neat pile at his feet.
"The binding oaths will be conducted by Ron Weasley as soon as possible, at a day and time, specified by him," Hermione continued her speech. "As you very well know, the consequence of betraying this oath is immediate death, not by anyone's hand, but courtesy of the very nature of the magic involved. So, the choice remains entirely yours."
An uneasy quiet followed her dire warning, interrupted only by the flash of the occasional camera, and the scratching of quills against parchment, as the Daily Prophet reporters were excited and fervent about recording the entire exchange as closely as possible - in a way, Draco was right that the Prophet was turning into a gossip column.
**
A few days of trepid anticipation passed, as Ron, Luna and Draco took on the jobs vacated by the treasonous deputies. They were to overlook affairs in the Ministry, as specifically mandated by Harry, Ron and Hermione, while the last three engaged themselves fully in the campaign against Bellatrix Lestrange. The overshadowing matter at hand, however, was the upcoming trials of the deputies, which had quickly become the dominant news, and people paid little attention to anything else.
The core trio was expected to participate, and on the arranged date, the Wizengamot had convened, in what was certainly destined to be one of the landmark cases in the judicial experience of the Ministry.
"This won't be over soon, will it?" Ron asked, fixing his tie, as the elevator creaked its way down in the basement of the Ministry.
"No, mate, I doubt it," Harry answered grimly. "This whole affair will set us back considerably."
"Believe me, I don't want to be here anymore than you do…if that's the type of pricks I'll be dealing with…" Draco put in with a tired tone.
"Be quiet, you," Ginny told him. "This is our responsibility now."
"Besides," Luna said in the silence that followed Ginny's words. "Harry, Hermione and my love will be back soon."
Draco sniggered. "Oh, yes, Ronnie, you'll be back, most certainly," he mocked the redhead.
"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron answered darkly, "Before I have to shut your trap for you."
"Calm down, all of you," Hermione declared in exasperation. "I know this is unpleasant, but we have to do it…"
Right at that point, the elevator stopped, and the doors slid open noisily.
"Alright, be quiet, and let's go," Harry instructed the rest. "Make this as painless as possible."
The party of six proceeded to the entrance of the largest courtroom the Wizangamot presided in. The heavy oak doors opened of their own accord, and as Harry walked in first, the eyes of the many present turned to observe the newcomers.
Confidently walking down the central aisle, Harry made his way over to the desk of the head of the Wizangamot, behind which an aged wizard sat.
"Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Weasley, Mr. And Mrs. Weasley," he murmured, trailing his finger down a long list of names, and looking up after each one to ascertain who the six in front of him were, "If you'll be as nice as to join the others in the witness bench, please."
Nodding their agreement, they filed into the nearby bench, and sat down expectantly.
"Today's trial," another old wizard began in a wheezy voice, as the crowd quieted down and turned its attention onto the speaker, "is to prosecute Humphrey Boggart, former deputy to the Minister of Magic, Seamus Cardigan, former deputy of the Head of the Auror Department, and Argus Fletcher, former deputy to the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. The charges filed against them - conspiracy and treason, which, if proven, threaten a life sentence in Azkaban."
The accused were bound in the traditional chains on the podium of the cavernous chamber. Two of them were looking down, obviously resigned and withdrawn, but the third one, who sat between the other two, gazed on furiously, his eyes flicking between the Wizengamot officials, Harry, and the general audience of the proceedings.
"When is this clown going to realize he doesn't stand a chance?" Harry muttered to Ron, eyeing the defiant deputy with disdain.
"Hour, at most," his best friend replied.
"Silence!" the judge echoed once more, and immediately, a deadly quiet took over the room.
Once the shock passed, a rather thinly built man, bespectacled with glasses that made his eyes appear unnaturally large, and with a quill hanging behind one ear, stood up, and faced the first accused, in the centre of the podium.
"Humphrey Boggart," he began, "you bear the heaviest charge, being the one allegedly responsible for centrally planning and organizing your failed attempt in attempting to seize power by force. How do you plead?"
"Not guilty," Boggart remained as adamant as ever in defending his position.
"The proof against you, Mr. Boggart, is undeniable," the bespectacled wizard rejoined with an air of confidence, "repeated tests on your wand revealed multiple uses of all three unforgivable curses. I take it you also have a satisfactory explanation to disprove those results?"
"Yes, I do," the accused replied strongly. "By the very nature of my job, I am forced to be prepared for anything at all times. Most of all when these two idiots on either side of me dragged me into their scheme - the only way to stop them, was to join them, and see them bested by the real people in charge of the Ministry."
Cardigan and Fletcher immediately snapped up, amazement written over their expressions.
"Now wait one bloody second - " Cardigan began angrily, but his tirade was cut short by the slamming of the judge's hammer.
"You will not speak out of turn, sir," the judge himself warned him icily.
"What is your evidence to support your statement, Mr. Boggart," the prosecutor asked once peace had been restored.
"My wizard's oath," the former smiled smugly. "Had I been treasonous, I would be lying dead on the floor."
"I object," this time Fletcher spoke up with equal vigor.
"Sir - " the judge started, but this time he was cut short. "Shove it, you!" Fletcher snapped at him; the affronted judge was too morally offended to even oppose the man.
"Fine then, speak," the prosecutor turned to him. "What do you have to say that is of such importance?"
"I'll be quick then," Fletcher responded. "Every deputy to the Minister of Magic, the head Auror and the head of the Magical Law Enforcement, has to take a wizard's oath. It's binding, until the deputy's tenure in office ends. If Boggart's here oath was genuine, he would indeed be dead, but he is not. That can only point to the fact that it was forged!"
For the first time, beads of sweat seemed to break out on Humphrey Boggart's forehead. "Lies, damn lies," he muttered, shaking his head.
"You make a bold claim," the prosecutor acknowledged slowly. "Have you a document to prove it?"
"The defence does, sir!" a young woman from the table, adjoined to the prosecutor's, spoke up suddenly. She arose, and walked to the front of the podium.
"Pray, tell," the judge prompted her.
"I hold in my hand a parchment with Mr. Boggart's supposed wizard's oath. It was repeatedly checked for the magic and charms, necessary to produce such an oath, and we can all admit to the fact that the magic involved is immensely elaborate. Now, my revelation here is that there is not a trace of the slightest magic on this piece of parchment, deposited in safe-keeping with the oath of every other deputy in the Ministry!"
"What does that entail then?" the prosecutor's interest was peaked.
"Copied, duplicated, or created by entirely Muggle means, without the aide of magic," the young woman declared fervently, "Which confirms my client's claim, and displays the wickedness of Mr. Boggart here even more starkly!"
"Do you concur to the aforementioned evidence, Mr. Boggart?" the prosecutor prompted the main involved party.
"I refuse to answer," Humphrey looked on darkly, the expression on his face murderous.
"Mr. Cardigan, have you anything to add to the findings?" the judge turned to the third man placed on trial.
"Yes," came the clear reply.
"Well, then, you have our attention," the judge said again.
"Boggart did indeed forge his oath, as did I and Fletcher," Cardigan began heavily, "and we did it very simply, by indeed creating the oaths through Muggle means. It was all on Boggart's initiative, of course."
"What exactly are you saying against him?" the prosecutor asked suspiciously.
"Blackmail, that's what I am saying," Cardigan responded spitefully. "Threatened to kill my family, if I did not join him…if you were faced with such a choice, sir, what would you do?"
"I would do what is right," the prosecutor growled his answer, but did not elaborate. "You all became deputies following the assignment of Ron Weasley as Head Auror, Hermione Potter as Minister of Magic, and Harry Potter as the Magical Law Enforcement Head. Mr. Boggart, you were assigned the vice-head for the Auror Department on the recommendation of the previous Minister, not too long before he was replaced by Hermione Potter."
"Your point, sir?" the judge pressed the prosecutor irritably.
"My point, your honour, is that I am under the suspicion that this man here, Humphrey Boggart, is linked to dangerous, underground political entities, together with the former Minister, in order to be able to secure such an important post for himself!"
"How do you support this accusation?"
"On the grounds that shortly before these three were detained, Mr. Boggart declared to Mr. Potter that, and I quote, `Lestrange will have her way with you', as found in the next day's edition of the Daily Prophet - I need not add this hideous event was covered directly and completely by numerous Prophet reporters, and they all affirm their consent to this particular detail of the whole matter!" the prosecutor declared loudly, and to his satisfaction, a murmur of dissent and amazement travelled through the crowd at the revelation.
"Order, please, order!" the judge managed to restore peace and quiet with a few forced bangs of his trusty hammer.
"Do you, Mr. Boggart, mean to say that you have links to Bellatrix Lestrange, considered to be still at large and dangerous, and currently wanted in exchange for a handsome reward?"
"I refuse to answer that question," Boggart muttered quietly, continuing to stare down the prosecutor with unbridled hate written on his face. "I'd die before I tell you anything else."
"Would you two care to supplement Mr. Boggart's answer?" the inquisitor turned to the other two detainees.
"I know nothing of it," Cardigan said quickly. "You don't mean a new Dark Lord, do you?" he asked, wondering, despite his rather uncomfortable situation. Behind the podium, the audience shifted in their seats, growing rather nervous at the question.
"No evidence of such an individual right now," the prosecutor answered curtly. "Mr. Fletcher, can you furnish us with a response to my earlier question?"
"No, I cannot," he replied, "but based on my short tenure as a deputy of the Magical Law Enforcement Department, I can tell you that there are moles in the Ministry, though I do not know where, or who they are."
"Mr. Fletcher, are you claiming that you too were blackmailed by Mr. Boggart here?" the prosecutor questioned him further.
"What does that have to do with Lestrange?" Fletcher inquired on his own turn.
"You, sir, are on the stand to answer my questions!" the prosecutor exploded. "Not to make inquiries of your own! It is your arse on the line for twenty years in Azkaban, so think carefully what you say!"
Fletcher jumped at the sudden outburst, but quickly regained his composure.
"Now, let's try this again," the prosecutor began in a calmer tone. "Were you blackmailed?"
"Yes, yes I was," the latter rejoined with resignation in his tone. "My wife paid the price for it."
"Was she killed?" the prosecutor asked, his voice as indifferent as before.
"By Boggart himself," Fletcher cast a dark glance at his fellow conspirator. "Not even two weeks ago."
"Do check if his wife is indeed dead," the prosecutor turned quietly to the assistant sitting next to his chair at the desk.
"Aye, what he says is true," the clerk affirmed even more quietly. "He's not lying. She was found dead by an Auror team in the area, exactly twelve days ago."
"Mr. Boggart, it seems you are the main one responsible for orchestrating this whole affair," the prosecutor went on smoothly, but much more firmly than before. "Have your defence to say anything in your protection?"
The answer to that question was negative - the two witches, assigned to the protection of Boggart stood amazed and speechless at the findings, looking quite unable to even form coherent order of their own thoughts.
"Do tell, Mr. Boggart," the prosecutor asked further, "how did you manage to gather such a following, as to force the three most important people at the Ministry fight for their lives?"
"I refuse to answer your question," came the deadpan, obstinate reply.
"I'll tell you," Cardigan replied gravely, and all eyes turned on him, "The Imperius curse…didn't you mention finding a trace of all the unforgivable curses being used on his wand?"
"I thought I issued a warning before," the prosecutor answered icily, "you are not here to ask questions. You are here to face the consequences of your actions!" he finished furiously.
Being absent from the Ministry for a longer term than usual, Harry, Ron and Hermione could only watch in amazement, as the details slowly came into focus as to what had transpired when they had not been present to keep such initiatives at bay.
"The Imperius curse, then," the prosecutor returned to his calmer tone, "indeed, Mr. Boggart, traces of numerous uses of the said Unforgivable were found on your wand. Including, the subversion of the two standing by your sides under the spell, in addition to the blackmail that can be added to your collection of charges!"
"I am innocent," Boggart growled. "You have no proof against me."
"When the facts speak, Mr. Boggart, even the Gods listen," the prosecutor told him quietly. "You should do well to remember that."
"Shove your damn facts," the accused bit back with spite. "Lies, it's all damn lies."
"The charge of treason already weighs down heavily on you, Mr. Boggart," the prosecutor rejoined without humor. "The investigation against you for your alleged links to Bellatrix Lestrange are only about to begin. I do think any hope of freedom for you is an illusion at this point."
"You know nothing," Boggart leered at the prosecutor, "and you can prove nothing."
"Your honour," the prosecutor turned to the judge, "over the past several days, we have gathered and assembled evidence presented to you and the jury in its most complete and true form. For Humphrey Boggart, I would recommend a lifetime sentence in Azkaban, on charges of treason and links to Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the most sought after former Death Eaters. The evidence in front of you is incontrovertible. As for Seamus Cardigan and Argus Fletcher, I recommend five years in Azkaban for each, and re-introduction into the employ of the Ministry, limited to non-consequential positions, with a full oath to accompany their re-assignment."
While the prosecutor made his argument, the jury and the judge had not remained idle. Unanimously, the verdict for Boggart was that he was charged guilty, and the judge confirmed his sentence.
"As to Cardigan and Fletcher," the judge reasoned, "I agree with your recommendation for their re-assignment, but I must disprove of the length of their jail sentence, and thus, I will shorten it to six months, on the charge of concealing information and failing to consult the right authority to dispel the matter before it grew to such alarming proportions."
The jury quickly assented, and the verdict was dealt. Despite looking very grim and defeated, a bit of hope seemed to have entered Cardigan and Fletcher's eyes…as for Boggart, he retained his murderous expression, silently challenging anyone to oppose him, but to no avail - he was guilty, and without question.
Soon, the prisoners were led away by a burly team of Aurors, and those who came to see the trial started to rise up, murmur amongst themselves, and dissipate from the chamber in groups of two and three.
"Well, that was certainly interesting," Ron observed, as he walked out of the court room, trailed by the other five.
"You three, you are going to have quite a job around here," Harry turned to Draco, Luna and Ginny.
Face still disbelieving at what had happened on the trial, Draco only nodded silently. After all, what was the guarantee they wouldn't be faced with such a dangerous ordeal again, he thought distressfully to himself…
A/N: Note for chapter 21: Enimfo luost sirfeht Morfesir, Enoevarb Odaedeth Morfesir, Avada Kedavra. In the meanwhile, sit tight and please review! :D
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