The Trial of Dolores Jane Umbridge

apaidan

Rating: PG
Genres: Drama, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 17/12/2008
Last Updated: 28/12/2008
Status: completed

Finally, the day of reckoning has come for Dolores Umbridge and Dumbledore's Army has gathered to see that justice is served. With the cleverest witch of her age against her, Umbridge doesn't stand a chance.

Chapters

1. Chapter One – Opening Remarks and Points to Order

2. Chapter Two – A tidal wave of offenses, a teacup of defense

3. Chapter Three – Dinner, Revelations, and Treacle Tart.

4. Chapter Four – The Last Stand of Dolores Jane

5. Chapter Five – Casus Belli, Findings of Fact, and Just Desse

1. Chapter One – Opening Remarks and Points to Order

Author's Note and Disclaimer. - First, the usual disclaimers. I'm not JKR. This is just for fun. No infringement, real or imagined, is intended by this story. Everything you recognize is, most likely, the property of JKR and her various publishers and marketers. The only exception to that would be the trial procedures which are vaguely modeled upon real world processes, and I tried to not let it fall into the opinion of Mr. Bumble.

This storyline doesn't really fit into any of my other stories, and its mild harmony. Some DH spoilers for the three people who haven't read it yet, and the Epilogue is kicked to the curb. Please enjoy this little look into what happens when you go out of your way to annoy HJG.

The Trial of Dolores Jane Umbridge

Chapter One - Opening Remarks and Points to Order

It wasn't the most spectacular trial following the defeat of Voldemort, nor was the defendant the most notorious, but the trial of Dolores Jane Umbridge was certainly one of the most anticipated, especially by that portion of the wizarding world known as Dumbledore's Army. Almost fourteen months to the day after the Battle of Hogwarts, those that wondered at the opening session of a trial before the Wizengamot on a Saturday smiled grimly when it was pointed out that last day of July was the nineteenth birthday of Harry James Potter. While coincidence does exist, no one believed that to be the case here, least of all the defendant.

Streaming through the open doorway into the courtroom's visitor's chamber was a line of hard faced young witches and wizards. Serious of demeanor and grim, they filed into the room and took up places around the gallery. All of them had been at Hogwarts during Umbridge's time there, and remembered the defendant clearly. While the offenses that she committed against them and the other students and staff at the school were not among the crimes she was charged with, most agreed that they had been among the first public victims of Umbridge's tendencies towards tyranny and oppression. Silently they filled all of the seats allotted to them, except for two. A pair of chairs sat conspicuously empty as they awaited the arrival of their designated occupants.

As the prisoner was brought into the lower chamber, it was apparent that her time at Azkaban had not been kind to her. While still toad-like in demeanor, she was more like a toad that was wasting away to a particularly unwholesome shade of greenish gray. Her hair was greyer than it had been when she was the head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission, and a haunted look in her eyes dominated her face. Looking around at the witches and wizards of the Wizengamot, she surveyed the hard looks that they returned. The two solemn aurors that escorted her into the chamber seated her in the solitary chair before the dais and stood silently behind her.

Seated impassively in the center of the upper dais, the Minister of Magic watched the defendant with barely concealed loathing. Representative of everything that he was trying to root out of the Ministry, Kingsley Shacklebolt viewed Dolores Umbridge as emblematic of the attitudes that had allowed Voldemort and the Death Eaters to flourish in the first place, the petty evils and hatreds that had hemmed the wizarding community in for centuries.

Far more insidious than the overt evil of a Tom Riddle or even the veiled evil of a Lucius Malfoy, Umbridge was the noxious slime lurking unseen in the corner of an otherwise clean room that contaminated everything that she came in contact with. She was the smiling face that twisted the system to suit her own petty prejudices and insecurities. A mediocre witch at best, she feared and despised everyone who questioned the status quo that provided her with a position and place.

Looking up and seeing that the principle nemesis of Dolores was standing in the doorway to the chamber, he smiled grimly at the look of determination and utter ruthlessness on the face of Hermione Granger. Almost, the Minister felt sorry for Dolores Umbridge at what was about to befall her. Not quite, but almost.

Hermione stepped back from the doorway to Harry's side. “It's still not too late for Kingsley to add charges to the docket regarding the things she did at Hogwarts when she was there.” Watching Harry's eyes, she reached out her hand and placed it on his, where the faint scars that proclaimed, `I must not tell lies' could be barely seen. “I know we voted last night not to, but if you went forward, the rest of the DA would follow.”

Shaking his head and smiling at her, Harry squeezed her hand in appreciation. “I still haven't changed my mind. If we go back to what happened our fifth year, it'll look as if this trial is a personal vendetta of yours, mine and the rest of the students.”

Glancing into the room at the seats reserved for the surviving victims of Umbridge's campaign at the Ministry, Harry shook his head. “Those folks in there suffered at the hands of her and her minions. Really suffered. Hounded from homes and jobs. Families separated. Some forced to flee the country. Some we still don't know where they are. Others are gone, never to return.” Looking back into her eyes, he pleaded. “I won't have them cheated of their due. Her venom and spite caused so much pain and suffering. You were there that day, you saw what those `hearings' were like.”

Shifting his arm and hugging her to him, he put his head against hers and whispered. “Besides, I know what you've got planned. Hermione you're a very vindictive witch and while I love you dearly, I'm very glad I've never gotten on your bad side for very long.”

Looking a bit startled, she finally laughed. “Harry, I should have known that keeping a secret around you is next to impossible. I'm not `vindictive' I'm merely protective. I agree that this is about bigger things than what happened to us, though if someone had stopped her that year, some of the things you're concerned about wouldn't have happened. I'm perfectly happy to allow Dumbledore's Army to collect its collective pound of flesh from this anonymously, but I promise you this Harry.” Looking into the courtroom and fixing her gaze on Umbridge as the trial was about to start. “Before the final gavel sounds, that foul woman will know exactly why her world is about to come crashing to an end. She's sown the wind, now it's time for her to reap the whirlwind.” Kissing Harry tenderly, she grabbed his hand and headed for the seats that were reserved for them.

As they slipped quietly into the chamber, the quiet hush was broken by the sound of chairs scraping on the stone floor. Every member of the DA, Dumbledore's Army, rose as one at the entrance of Hermione and Harry into the chamber. Almost in unison, they all cleared their throats in a “hem, hem” to the amusement of the rest of the spectators and then settled back into their seats.

Looking up at the entering duo, Kingsley tried to prevent the smile that was threatening to break through as he attempted to look sternly at them. Glancing at each other, they looked a bit sheepish as they shrugged their shoulders, trying to convey the fact that they didn't orchestrate that bit of courtroom theatrics. Looking towards their seats, they noticed Ron shaking his head and Ginny sitting there looking defiant as they made their way over to the open seats.

As the gallery settled down, once again, Percy Weasley looked up and saw that all of the participants of the hearing were in place. Glancing over at Kingsley, he took the resigned nod from the Minister as license to begin. He silently tapped his wand twice against the wooden block in the center of his bench and suddenly the sound of the parchment he was nervously rustling in his other hand became audible.

“The Wizengamot is in session. Today we will begin to hear evidence and testimony in the matter of the Ministry of Magic's inquiry into the actions of Dolores Jane Umbridge during the period of the first of August 1997 until the third of May 1998. All beings with knowledge of these actions are hereby called upon by the court to present themselves here to the court assembled to give testimony and evidence regarding those actions so that justice may be administered before these gathered witnesses.”

Looking up into the gallery, and gazing at the two who had entered last, he concluded. “Fiat justitia, ruat coelum*”. At the intoning of the ritual, a faint blue light ran around the chamber, like St. Elmo's fire, briefly illuminating all of the surfaces and entrances of the chamber, the indication that a capital case was being brought before the court.

Gazing impassively at the advocate before him, Kingsley addressed himself to Umbridge and her defender. “Honored Advocate, is the defense ready for this proceeding to begin?”

Standing slowly, the gaunt wizard rose from his seat and looked over at his client who was obviously straining to say something. “If it pleases the court, can I inquire as to why the defendant has been brought into the chamber silenced? Since the proceeding hasn't yet begun, she can't have done anything to disrupt the proceedings, which is the usual criteria for silencing a defendant before the court.” Looking up at Kingsley with a resigned glare, Aloysius Carrenton waited for a reply that he knew would not be to his liking, but the law had required him to ask just the same.

Glancing to Percy, Kingsley silently inquired as to why. In turn, Percy turned his attention to the more senior of the two aurors that had accompanied the defendant into the chamber.

The auror, a younger woman in her late twenties but with an air of competence surrounding her, flushed a bit and spoke with a accent that marked her as having grownup in the narrow valleys of Wales. “Sorry, Minister. We had to silence her and immobilize her a bit to get her into the courtroom. As soon as she set eyes on that lot,” she indicated the students and former students of the DA with a nod and a smile, “she went into a frenzy. She accused us of bringing her here so they could torture her. She was cursing every student that had been at Hogwarts in recent memory, cursing Dumbledore and Scrimgeour, cursing you, but especially those three.”

Nodding towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione, she flashed them a brief smile. “What with the session beginning and all, just never had a chance to remove the silence from her. Though from the looks of it, it was probably a good thing that we didn't.” Nodding over to her companion, she sighed. “Take it off Robbie, might as well do the physical restraints as well so we can see what she's going to do, this time.”

Her companion gave a resigned sigh and raised his eyebrow as he made a peculiar circular motion with his wand. Suddenly a stream of invective and objections pouring from the defendant's lips broke the relative silence of the chamber. Running on for several seconds, she apparently realized that she was actually speaking and she cut herself off as suddenly as the torrent of abuse had begun. Looking wildly around she focused on the sight of her three former students sitting together in the gallery and she lunged from her seat in an attempt to move in that direction.

Kingsley's voice rang out through the chamber, bringing Umbridge to an abrupt halt. “Advocate, please control your client before it becomes apparent that restraints will be necessary for this hearing to proceed in an orderly fashion. I will not have a repeat of the fiasco that marked the proceedings regarding Simon Nott.”

Glaring at the advocate, Kingsley remembered the sham that the trial of Simon Nott had devolved down to. At every break in the proceedings, Nott would start expounding, in gory and gruesome detail, exactly what sort of vengeance he and the Dark Lord would extract upon every person in the chamber.

Never seeming to grasp the fact that Voldemort was in fact dead, Nott's calm assurance in being able to carry out his macabre threats was so unsettling that a couple of witnesses suffered nightmares for months following their testimony. The poor clerk that had recorded the proceedings was required to spend several months on sabbatical on a ministry-leased island in the Bahamas at the insistence of his healers at St. Mungo's. Apparently he continued delivering his dire pronouncements until the moment he set foot in the boat that carried him to Azkaban to begin a two hundred and forty year sentence. At that point he became silent and hadn't spoken a word to anyone or anything since.

Turning to his client, the advocate whispered in her ear. A resigned look came over her face and she stepped back to return to her place in front of the solitary chair in the lower lever of the chamber. Look up at Kingsley she opened her mouth to speak. Once again a chorus of “hem, hem” reverberated from the gallery before she began with a girlish “hem hem”. Abruptly looking around she shut her mouth and glared as laughs circled the gallery.

Rapping his gavel on the surface in front of him, Percy was turning a bit red in the face. “The spectators to these proceedings are reminded of the rules of decorum for the Wizengamot. The court finds that the defendant is perfectly capable of speaking for herself and should be allowed to without interference or assistance.” Ignoring the sharp look from the advocate, he asked politely. “Are there any motions from the defense before we go with the reading of the charges and specifications?”

“If it pleases the court,” Carrenton answered, “there are several motions that I would like to present in open court for the record.”

“I take it these are motions that have already been presented pretrial and the answer wasn't to your client's liking?” Percy was about to continue when he was interrupted.

“Hem hem” Clearing her throat, Dolores Umbridge ignored the laughter that accompanied her trademark pattern of speech. “This entire proceeding is not to my liking. Kingsley I know you have to go through the formalities to appease those three troublemakers, but this really has gone on long enough. “

Glaring at the Minister as if he were a first year who had gone on too long explaining why his homework wasn't going to be turned in, she continued in that sickening girly voice she affected. “I really have too much work waiting for me at the Commission to laze around any more waiting for this nonsense to end.”

Shaking his head, the Minister looked from the defendant to her advocate. “Advocate Carrenton, have you informed you client of the seriousness of the proceedings being convened against her?”

“I have, on numerous occasions.” Shaking his head, the advocate tried to make unobtrusive shushing motions with his hand towards his client.

“And has she also been informed that the Muggle-born Registration Commission has been disbanded, dissolved and revoked?” Kingsley directed this question to the advocate, ignoring a cryptic “For the most part” addition from Percy.

“I've tried Mr. Minister…” as he was cut off by his client

“Hem hem. Kingsley, that's exactly the kind of thing we need to discuss. You can't seriously expect me to believe that all of the work and progress we were able to make at the Commission has been abandoned and forsaken. These are serious issues that need to be corrected before the muggle-born hound us from our homes and offices, ….” The rest of her comment was cut off by a sharp crack as the Minister slammed his hand onto the wooden surface in front of him so strongly that the crack of the oaken top of the bench being broken could be heard plainly.

“Dolores Umbridge. You have an advocate who is perfectly capable of presenting your defense. This is neither the time nor the place to discuss matters of Ministry policy, but I can assure you that this entire proceeding is about the work of your `Commission' and what occurred during nine very shameful months. You will be given a chance to examine the evidence, question witnesses, and present your defense.”

The look on his face became more and more dangerous and he swallowed twice and lowered his voice. “But if you seriously think that you will ever be allowed to continue with your vendetta against members of our society, you might just be, to quote one of my newest auror recruits, `barking mental'. I'm going to encourage your advocate to consider having you evaluated by healers from St. Mungo's if you persist.”

Looking sternly at her advocate, he apologized. “I'm sorry Aloysius, I'll have your pretrial motions entered into the record but I'm going to rule on them exactly the same, unless you have additional evidence or precedents to submit.” Seeing the resigned shake of the advocate's head, he continued. “As for the bill of indictment, does your client wish to stipulate to the list or are we going to have to read the entire list into the record?”

“Mr. Minister, seeing as I'd like to start presenting my defense before the start of winter term at Hogwarts, we'll stipulate to the list of the bill of indictment and renew our assertion that my client is not guilty of any items listed since she was merely following Ministry policy at the time these events occurred.”

“Very well. Mr. Weasley, will you begin presenting the case for the Ministry.” And with that, the trial of Dolores Jane Umbridge began. A rather auspicious beginning, two minutes and twelve seconds elapsed before the defendant was silenced for the first time by one of her auror escorts for disrupting the proceedings.

A/N * “Let Justice be done, though the heavens fall.”

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2. Chapter Two – A tidal wave of offenses, a teacup of defense

A/N & Disclaimer - I still own or control nothing that you recognize, JKR has that great pleasure. Thanks to everyone who reviewed & read the first chapter, I appreciate all of the comments. And now, back to our trial….

Chapter Two - A tidal wave of offenses, a teacup of defense.

For six weeks, a steady stream of witnesses for the prosecution made their way through the proceedings. An ironic side effect of her mania for exact recordkeeping was now coming back to haunt the former head of the Registration Commission as there were an overabundance of records regarding every muggle-born who had the misfortune to fall into her grasp.

Coupled with the fact that the delight she took in causing harm made her handle the vast majority of the cases herself, Dolores Umbridge was personally identified by almost every victim that the Ministry had been able to find since the Battle of Hogwarts. Additional names were added daily as more came forward or the fates of those who had disappeared became known. Her defense advocate, a very harried older wizard from Magical Law-enforcement's Advocates Division, was unable to do much more than question the memories of some of the older and younger victims and repeatedly make the point that Umbridge was simply following Ministry policy at the time, as promulgated by then Minister Thickness.

Finally, Shacklebolt put an end to the list of victims stipulating that any further victims would be registered as interested parties to the case and kept apprised of the proceedings and eligible for reparations along with the others. The final witness for the Ministry was Pius Thickness, former Minster of Magic.

“State your name.” Percy Weasley looked sheepishly at the witness as he began the proceedings.

Looking nervously at Kingsley, Thickness swallowed and answered “Pious Wallingsford Thickness”

“And you were the holder of the office of Minister of Magic from the first of August 1997, following the death of Minister Rufus Scrimgeour, until the second of May, 1998?”

“I never willingly claimed that office. But yes, I did function as the Minister of Magic for that period of time under magical duress.”

“Under duress?” Percy's voice became softer and more conciliatory.

“Yes, I was placed under the Imperious Curse. Originally by William Yaxley while I was still the rightful head of Magical Law Enforcement. Two days prior to the events of the first of August, I was taken to an unknown location and the curse was readministered by Tom Riddle, under whose sway I remained until Harry Potter ended that on the second of May, 1998.”

Looking up into the gallery, Thickness looked at Harry and grimaced. “Thank you, young man.”

Looking back at Kingsley and Percy, he continued. “Sorry about that. First chance I've had to do that and while I'll be living with the memories of what happened for the rest of my life, I felt I should at least thank the wizard who gave me the chance to regret what I had done.”

Her face turning a shade of red that would have made any Weasley proud if it wasn't on such a vile individual, Umbridge began ranting from her seat. “It's all a plot of those blasted children. This is nothing but a tissue of lies and vindictive childish plottings. If I'd been allowed to deal with them as I wished, none of this would have happened. I told Cornelius he was much too soft on that boy. He's the reason I'm here. He wouldn't support the Ministry then and he's destroying it n…” Whatever else she was going to say was cut off by the spells of the aurors assigned to her. From the purplish tone her face was taking, the two spells they had silently chosen weren't exactly complimentary.

“Sorry Minister Shacklebolt,” the auror on her right spoke up, a bit embarrassed. “She's been silenced so many times over the past year that it took a couple of tries before I could get one to hold.” Turning to her companion, she nodded. “Robbie, release the Lingui-arretez before the old bat suffocates and this whole bloody trial comes to naught.”

Speaking from his place beside her, her advocate broke the silence. “Mr. Minister, I must protest these characterizations of my client, the political grandstanding Mr. Thickness engaged in and the cavalier attitude to which my client's well being is being subjected to all of which has done nothing but attempt to tarnish my client in front of the Wizengamot.”

“Aloysius, I'm certain that Pious neither planned his comments nor intended them as a political statement, but I will instruct him to direct all further comments to the court.” Nodding toward his old boss, Kingsley smiled and then returned his attention to Umbridge's advocate. “I'll also instruct young Maegan there that while Ms Umbridge is accused of an entire litany of crimes and misdeeds, being `an old bat' isn't one of them.”

Looking squarely at the young auror who was in charge of the detail this morning, he nodded. “She was the recipient of two different hexes to try and silence her for the,” looking at the parchment Percy was keeping tally on he grimaced, “four hundred and sixteenth time since these proceedings began. The second one was removed as soon as it was apparent that the first one was finally successful. And she was correct in her `concern' for you client's welfare. Her dying of asphyxiation would make the past six weeks seem rather anticlimactic.”

Broadening his gaze to take in the seated Wizengamot, he continued. “I dare say, however, that your client's actions have done more to solidify the opinions of the witches and wizards gathered here than anything done by Ministry personnel. And before you raise the objection again, where in Merlin's name am I supposed to find witches and wizards with no opinion of your client or the events of that year? I think that there's an American witch at their research station in Antarctica that might have not heard anything about what happened here in Britain, but if she's seen one copy of `The Daily Prophet' or its American counterpart, `The Times Free Mystic Reporter' then that hope is lost. I'm sorry, but the only members of the wizarding community that don't actively dislike you client, loath her.” Turning back to Percy, he nodded.

“Mr. Thickness, it's your contention that you were never the legitimate Minister of Magic then?”

“Not for one day. Rufus was the last Minister before Kingsley here. I was just a pawn that Riddle used to run the place while his Death Eaters and followers tried to destroy everything.” Turning away, shamefacedly, he continued. “Most of those who weren't under control or a Death Eater were too afraid to do anything.”

Looking directly at the defendant with unmasked loathing he added. “Some, however willing aided and directed the cruelties because it bolstered their own insecurities and failings.”

Shaking his head, he spoke to the defendant. “Dolores, you always were a marginal witch at best, and kicking the muggle born wasn't going to change that. You hated the boy's mother, you hated his best friend, but trying to prove that the muggle born had stolen their powers from `real' witches and wizards was damned stupid, even for you. I told Cornelius years ago that you should have been shunted off to a quiet post somewhere you couldn't hurt anything or anybody. What hae ye done, lassie?”

Before the advocate could object, Kinglsey interrupted. “Pius, no matter how cogent the observation, please direct them to the court. So it is your assertion that the defendant acted of her own free will and accord during the period of time she was Head of the now repudiated Muggle-born Registration Commission?”

“Sorry about that Minister. Yes that one didn't need any coaxing at all to do what she did. Half the insanity that went on were her ideas. As I said, she's hated the muggle-born since she was at Hogwarts, and it's only gotten stronger over the years. If you'll look at that roster that was in Yaxley's office, you'll see a list of Ministry employees divided into three categories. There were those that were imperioused, then a group to be watched in case they got too out of hand and the threats against their families couldn't keep them in line, and a group that there was no need to coerce because they were actively supporting the new status quo. Arthur Weasley was on the second list; they knew he was only here to find out what was going on and they let him because they thought with his youngest being at Hogwarts they had leverage. Damn brave girl, that one, she was worth a dozen fully trained aurors in keeping Riddle's lackeys running in circles. Dolores was the poster girl for the third.

“Objection to that characterization of my client,” the advocate looked at the Minister expectantly.”

Nodding, Thickness shrugged before Kingsley could respond, “I'll rephrase. Ms Umbridge was at the top of the list labeled `Ministry Employees with Enthusiastically Proper Attitudes'. The rest of the names follow alphabetically from a to zed.” Looking at Aloysius, he smiled. “Happier?”

“Then it's your contention that the defendant willingly participated in the activities of the Commission?” Kingsley directed.

“Willingly? She created the bloody thing out of whole cloth. She went to Yaxley going on and on about how the Muggle-born needed to be watched so they could be rounded up before they tried to exterminate us. How we couldn't leave these magpies and vipers in unsuspecting wizarding households. How we couldn't allow them to taint our institutions and schools. How it would be easier when the time came to purge the community if we knew where they were. Dolohov and Yaxley were pure evil, no doubt. But Dolores accepted everything they said and amplified it to ease the insecurities in her own soul. As I stated earlier, she was a mediocre witch at best and couldn't abide the fact that there were some who came to magic from the muggle world with control and ability that far exceeded her own. So she decided they must have stolen their wands and their magic from some poor unsuspecting wizard or witch.”

Looking ashamed, he offered up a thick sheaf of parchments. “Here are the notes on the proceedings she sent to my office from just one day. Read for yourselves the glee she took in persecuting those poor folks. My biggest regret is that those two didn't feed her to the dementors the day they broke into the Ministry. My guess is it wouldn't have done any good.” Looking coldly at Umbridge but addressing his remarks to the court, he continued. “The dementors would have had scant lunch from that one; I don't believe she has much of a soul to steal in the first place.”

“Objection”

“Noted Aloysius. The Wizengamot will disregard any personal opinions regarding the state of the defendant's soul, or her lack thereof. Do you have any questions for the witness Aloysius?”

“Just a few, Mr. Minister. Mr. Thickness, how can this court trust your recollections of what happened since you willingly admit you were under mental duress and coercion at the time?”

“Other than the records your client collected that back up my tale? Aloysius you know as well as I do that the subject of an Imperius curse remembers everything that happens while they were under unless their memory is tampered with after the fact. Load my memories into a pensieve and have a look. They'll sicken you, I know they sicken me, but you'll see everything crystal clear and sharp as a knife. I know the law doesn't allow it, but we could take my memories of that time and her memories of that time and see exactly what this court should believe.”

“Yes, that's all well and good, but you know that Ms Umbridge was just following policies and procedures set by the Office of the Minster of Magic, your office I believe at the time. Why should we fault her if she was simply doing what was required”

“Aloysius, your client wasn't some owl-post clerk that forwarded along parchments not knowing what they contained. She created most of those policies and gleefully exceeded them when she wanted to be particularly cruel and vindictive. She wasn't following orders; she was following her inner nature.”

Shaking his head, the advocate addressed the court. “Nothing further from this witness, Mr. Minister.”

Looking at Percy, who shook his head in answer, Kingsley spoke “Since this was the prosecution's last witness, we'll adjourn for the day and allow the defense to proceed tomorrow afternoon. Do you have your final roster of witnesses?”

Standing slowly, Advocate Carrenton placed both hands upon the table in front of him and nodded. “I hope it pleases the court because it certainly doesn't please me. Most of the Ministry personnel who worked with my client are either in Azkaban, in hiding, or inform me that they have no relevant testimony to offer on my client's behalf. Actually most of them have been clamoring to testify against her. Tomorrow, against my advice, my client wishes to take the stand to plead her own defense.” Shaking his head ruefully, Aloysius Carrenton tried to blot out the chuckling that was filling the room after his last statement. Tomorrow was going to prove to be a very trying day.

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3. Chapter Three – Dinner, Revelations, and Treacle Tart.

Chapter Three - Dinner, Revelations, and Treacle Tart.

Dinner at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was a fairly somber affair, far more somber than could be accounted for by the company or the décor. The house had been rehabilitated under the capable hands of Kreacher and the inspiration of Hermione so that it no longer resembled the dark, gloomy, house of horrors it had been when the Order moved in.

Since six weeks after the ending of the war, the `Golden Trio' plus Ginny had taken up residence in the rambling mansion. Joined, off and on, by friends and relatives, the four had formed an easy camaraderie and sense of family that had done as much to transform the house into a home as Kreacher's abilities.

The intervening year had seen the romance between Harry and Ginny, along with the one between Hermione and Ron, gently decay back into friendship. Dubbed `The Uncouples' by the Daily Prophet, gossipmongers throughout wizarding Britain and the rest of the world shook their heads at the easy relationship the four had fallen into.

While all four had been seen with other witches and wizards, only Luna Lovegood had become a regular fixture at the house, almost always in the company of Ron. Ginny's budding career with the Holyhead Harpies placed her in the company of quidditch players from around the world, but she was most frequently seen in her off hours and on Hogsmead weekends, when she wasn't with the other three, enjoying the company of a certain amateur sports photographer named Dennis Creevey.

Harry and Hermione were, well, Harry and Hermione. The least public of the four, when they were seen in public, it was invariably together. Their public personas were much as they had always been, inseparable, together, and mildly affectionate. Both seemed perpetually amused by the attention being paid them.

None of their friends would ever comment on the state of their relationship, the only speculations came from those individuals around them from the Ministry who only knew them from their public lives. The closest thing to an inside revelation came when a writer for Witch Weekly asked Luna if she thought the relationship between the Harry and Hermione was changing. Shaking her head, Luna merely smiled and replied, “Their relationship hadn't changed since the day they met, other than it had finally become less cluttered.”

Seated at a table in front of the drawing room fireplace were three of the young permanent residents at dinner while the fourth sat cross-legged in the green flames of the fireplace joining them from a fireplace at Holyhead. Hermione kept exchanging glances with Ginny trying to decide which one was going to break the silence around Harry first.

“Harry?” Ron spoke up, oblivious to the byplay between Hermione and his sister. “Can I ask you a question mate?” Looking perplexed, Ron laid down the fork he had been using on the shepherd's pie in front of him and waited for Harry to look up from his meal. Ignoring the warning glances from Hermione, he gazed guilelessly at his best mate.

Looking up and seeing the look in Ron's face, Harry guessed where this was going since he was certain Luna had filled him in on the testimony from today's session. Shaking his head a bit, he answered in a tired voice. “Ron, this is the first time I can remember you asking first since our second year. You know you can ask, any of you.”

Looking around he smiled at Hermione and Ginny, noting the worried looks they had. “Before you ask, let me say that any of you lot have the right to know anything I know. Or think.” Glancing at Hermione and feeling the connection between them across the table, he smiled. “Or feel.” Looking back at Ron, he held out his hand. “The floor's yours Ron. Ask away.”

Smiling, Ron nodded at Hermione before continuing. “Harry, everything I've heard about your mum and dad has been wonderful. I would have been proud to have met them and I hope they would have approved of the two of us being friends. But every time we turn around, someone comes out of the woodwork with this mysterious connection to your mum.”

Holding up his hand to cut off Hermione's interruption, he continued. “First it's Snape who was hopelessly in love with your mum all of these years. I wouldn't have bet a knut he could have loved anyone, but it seems he loved you mum almost as much as your dad did. Then Thickness drops that bombshell about Umbridge hating your mum when she was in school. How'd that happen? She wasn't in school with them. She graduated before their first year. She overlapped with Lucius by a year or two, but she was well gone by the time the Marauders and Lily arrived. Is there anyone else waiting in the wings who either hated or loved her?”

Sitting back, he nodded to Hermione. “'Mione, now you can tell me what an insensitive prat I am. But I just thought that someone should ask before the atmosphere around her gets too tense. If a guy with `the emotional range of a teaspoon' can feel something's wrong, it needs to be talked about.”

Looking back at Harry, he smiled apologetically. “Sorry mate, but you have a habit of wrapping yourself up in things and then one or more of us have to break in and haul you back. I just thought this time we'd try to get a head start and I'd ask you about it before you thought about it too much.”

Looking from the poleaxed looks on Hermione's and Ginny's faces to the hopeful grin on Ron's, Harry began to chuckle. “Hermione, he's right. I do keep myself locked up when it comes to feelings and the past, and it's not fair to any of you.” Casting a sheepish grin in her direction he nodded. “Especially you, luv.”

Sitting back and sighing, he idly began to play with the water goblet in front of him. “I haven't got the foggiest what Pius was talking about today. From what he was saying, Umbridge disliked my mum and Hermione enough to warrant special attention. I went through everything I could find that they had written or that anyone had written to them and I couldn't even find a mention of her. I couldn't tell you that they had ever met, so why she hated my mum is a mystery. As for Hermione…”

Grinning, Harry pointed at his other half who was staring at him as if he'd just sprouted a dark mark. “Let's see, she's muggle born, the smartest witch in several generations, one of the organizers of Dumbledore's Army, she fought Umbridge and her Inquisition Squad to a standstill, and then outsmarted the old battleaxe by getting her to take us to the forest so Toady could get abducted by centaurs. For the life of me I'm not certain why she's not knitting you tea cozies and sending you flowers twice a week.”

Laughing, the four friends couldn't control themselves and spent the next several minutes trying to compose themselves while Ron would sputter “Educational decree number Thirty Three” or “Filch's hero” and they'd all start again. A silvery swan shot through the door of the drawing room and said “Percy Weasley and Pius Thickness inbound” just as they heard a loud knock on the front door. The patronus, belonging to the auror watching the front door of the house, ducked its head beneath its wing and disappeared as Kreacher passed by the open door and headed for the front entranceway.

“This should be interesting.” Hermione chuckled as she wiped tears from her eyes and leaned over to kiss Ron on his cheek. “Ronald, why is it you can recite with perfect recall anything I ever said about you when I was angry or exasperated but you couldn't remember a simple list of goblin chieftains for a test in Magical History?”

“Because Binns couldn't teach water to run downhill? Because anything you have to say is exceedingly more important to me than almost anything anyone else has to say? Because I know exactly how painful not paying attention to you can be? Take your pick.” Smiling at her, he didn't see the sharp glance between Harry and Ginny at Ron's support for Hermione. A far cry from the past, when the two of them were trying to come to grips with their relationship, Ron was genuinely supportive of Hermione, her staunchest defender after Harry these days.

“Gin, can you stay for this or are you imposing on the team's hospitality by tying up the floo connection?” Looking over at his friend, Harry knew that the Harpies made allowances for their newest chaser and her family relationship with the trio and they were able to dine “together” once a week via floo.

“Harry, I wouldn't miss this for the world. Though, I did get an owl from Minerva today. The Headmistress wants me to remind you three that you still have parchments due for your makeup work to get your final NEWTS. Well you two boys do. Hermione's so far ahead that she wants you to come and get you tests over with. Said something about the record being eleven NEWTS and she'd appreciate it if you didn't kill yourself and her by trying to get an O on all eleven. `One Dawlish is quite enough' as she put it. And if you want a twelfth one, you'd have to choose Divination, because even Hagrid agrees that you'd need to be on campus for the hands-on parts of his class, so you're stuck with eleven. I've got less to make up than you guys because I actually went for half my seventh year so I'm going to take my tests during the Christmas break.” Laughing at the indignant look on Hermione's face, she shook her head at her chronically overachieving friend. “Everyone behave, I think we've got company.”

Laughing as Ginny vainly tried to enforce a sense of decorum; they all looked towards the open doorway. Kreacher was standing at attention in the open door, the house-elf clearing his throat. “Master Percy Weasley and Master Pius Thickness to see you.”

“Kreacher, show them in. Percy's family and if he's bringing a guest, they're more than welcome in this house.” Grinning over at Ron, Harry saw that Ron's acceptance of Percy back into the family's good graces was still intact. Pulling out his wand, he conjured a couple of chairs around the table so that they could remain here and Ginny could be a part of the conversation. Standing, the three of them moved towards to the door.

“Hello Percy, what brings you out so late on a Ministry night?” Laughing Ron grabbed his older brother and gave him a big hug. “Mum says you haven't been by the Burrow since this trial started.”

Walking over to where the older wizard was standing in the door, Harry extended his hand to the visitor. “Hello, Mr. Thickness. It's a pleasure to see you in a less stressful situation.” Shaking the older man's hand, he grinned trying to defuse the situation. “I must say that I had been thinking about contacting you after today's session. You mentioned some things that have the four of us very intrigued.”

Waiving his hand to include the others, Harry gestured to the chairs around the table. “I hope you and Percy don't mind joining us at table. Ginny's at Holyhead with the Harpies and this is as close as we can get to dining together on a regular basis since she's tied to the floo in the evenings at the moment.” Looking over at the redheaded chaser who was waving madly at her older brother, he nodded in her direction. “Please join us and I'll have Kreacher put together coffee and dessert for us.”

Looking at Kreacher, he nodded. “And Kreacher, could you ask Winky to provide something to drink and a bit of dessert for Ginny in Holyhead so she's not the only one without.” Kreacher nodded and disappeared with a distinctive `pop'.

Seated around the tables, the six chatted quietly as Kreacher served the coffee. Looking over at Ginny, Harry smiled as she nodded her thanks as she hoisted a butterbeer and grinned at the plate of pastries that were on the low table beside her. Clearing his throat, Harry got everyone's attention again. “I want to thank you for your testimony today, sir. I know that it wasn't easy for you to sit in front of your peers and remember what happened.”

Nodding to the others, he continued. “I know we all deeply appreciate this and I for one would be proud to work with you in the future if we ever get the chance.” Noting the look in the older wizard's eyes, he became embarrassed at the gratitude and genuine relief that he saw there.

“Mr. Potter, I'm forever in your debt, and anything I can do to try to make amends for what happened that year is the very least I can do. I know from speaking to Mad-Eye before his death that you had experienced the Imperius Curse so you do understand, but I'm still haunted by the things that I observed and participated in, no matter how unwillingly.”

“First of all, it's Harry. And I'm certain that Ron, Hermione and Ginny feel the same way. Secondly, I understand that you were not yourself and that anything that happened was because of the control that Voldemort exercised over you. Your reputation at Magical Law Enforcement was a good one, and I'm certain that when the time is right, Minister Shacklebolt will find a place for you to return to service. “

Percy interrupted to give the older man a chance to compose himself. “Harry, I brought Pius by with Kingsley's permission since his participation in the hearings is essentially over. There are some things he can tell you, but from what he's told me, there are a few things that he doesn't feel are his to divulge. However, I have a feeling that there are more revelations in store before this particular trial ends.”

“Percy, you can stop being the mysterious Ministry prat any time now.” Ginny chimed in from the fireplace looking severely annoyed with her older brother. “Tell us what you know or stop trying to make us ask you. It was annoying when I was seven and it's annoying now.” Glaring at him, Percy recoiled just a bit until he remembered that even Ginny couldn't cast a hex through a floo connection.

“Actually, I'm not the one with all the secrets here. Hermione's the one with the hidden plan for tomorrow. I just brought Pius by so he could tell you what he knows about Harry's mum and Umbridge.” Watching Ron and Ginny glare at Hermione, he noted Harry's sheepish grin.

“Hermione's running this show. That was part of the deal she and I made to get her support for not bogging this hearing down with all of the offences that Umbridge committed at Hogwarts.” Rubbing the back of his hand idly, Harry looked from Ron to Ginny. “I trust her, you guys trust her. I'm certain whatever she's got cooked up will be sufficient for even our feelings about Umbridge.”

Flashing Hermione a smile and a look of support he grinned as she began to blush. “Besides, who better to make certain Umbridge gets everything she deserves than the brains of this mob. If we wanted her blasted into splinters, we'll send Ginny. If I want her out thought and out flanked, we'll send Ron.”

“And if we want her life systematically, categorically, and alphabetically dismantled, we send Hermione” Laughing from the floo, Ginny held up her hands in mock surrender. “I'm good with whatever you two have cooked up. Though I don't think Kingsley's partial to either canaries or bluebirds, so she's going to have to be subtle.”

Grinning at Ron's wince of pain as he remembered the flock of murderous avians Hermione had hexed on him once upon a time, Ginny continued. “But my manners are slipping and we're keeping our guests waiting. Pius, I hope you forgive us, and could you please tell us what you know about Harry's mum and that woman.”

“It's not a problem. I'm just glad to be able to be in the same room as you four without having wands drawn on me.” Chuckling, he looked at Percy. “Though I really shouldn't count you out either. I've still got a scar from your `resignation' from Ministry service. I'm glad to see that you decided that the new management style is more in keeping with your sensibilities than the old.”

Reaching into his robes, Pius removed a small notebook and flipped it open, looking down to consult his notes. “Anyway, the reasons why aren't readily apparent, but Umbridge developed a significant dislike for one Lily Evans during her fourth year. Even though it wasn't her department, she kept almost a daily log of everything she could find out about the girl and reported it to anyone who would listen. Most of it consisted of minor infractions of school rules and magic use policies, usually involving your dad and his lot. Other times she was hanging around with one Severus Snape. You would think that would have made Umbridge happy seeing as she and Snape shared a house connection, but she was almost as petty about that as she was about your mum and James. Once Crouch realized that she had problems with the Muggle-born, they moved her out of the department she was in and into the general Ministry hierarchy so someone could keep an eye on her. With the first war and what, that got lost sight of.”

Hermione interrupted with a gleam in her eye. “What was her original assignment?”

“Wand Registration and Trace.” Noting the looks on the face of the four younger ones, he explained. “When a baby is born to wizarding parents, the Trace is placed on the child right after birth, when they're formally named. You three,” nodding towards Harry, Ron, and Ginny, “all had that done when you were named. It's painless and it allows the Ministry to track underage magic use until you turn seventeen.”

Looking at Hermione, he nodded. “You, on the other hand, being muggle born didn't have that opportunity, so Ollivander and the other licensed wand makers do the trace when they find the right wand for Muggle-borns heading for school. Since you don't know anything about magic, you don't think it odd that he asks you your birth date while he's fitting you for a wand. Umbridge was in the office that tracks the trace, so she had access to information on all of the muggle born. Bad choice that turned out to be.”

Shaking his head at the vagaries that life sometimes takes, he looked up sheepishly. “We still haven't wrinkled out the origin of her problem with the muggle born, but we've been able to trace it back being noticeable going back to her second year at school. What set her off is anyone's guess at this point. But she exhibited great persistence in her quiet vendettas against various muggle-born witches over the years. Only when the Ministry fell was she able to bring her beliefs to the forefront.”

“But Harry wasn't muggle-born, though he was raised by muggles. What was her problem with him?” Ron looked puzzled trying to reconcile Umbridge's treatment of Harry.

“Ay, well that's a bit easier to understand. Harry was in conflict with Fudge, Dolores thought that the sun rose and set with Cornelius so she was determined to prevent Harry from derailing Fudge's policies. Fudge decided that Voldemort hadn't returned so anyone who said differently was a danger to the Ministry and the status quo as far as she was concerned.”

Looking at the four of them, he nodded. “I know no one here is a fan of Cornelius', but I honestly believe that he didn't have any idea of the extremes Dolores was going to at Hogwarts. He was holding on to things with his fingernails then and if she promised him she could keep Hogwarts in line and neutralize Dumbledore and Harry as a threat to him, then Cornelius would close his eyes and let her go. He was more enamoured with the job than doing the job, which made him a very bad choice for Minister.”

Shaking his head, he sipped his coffee and sighed. “He never should have been in the running for the job, but with Barty Crouch self destructing and Dumbledore turning it down for the seventh or eighth time, he was a compromise candidate that everyone thought could be trusted to hold on for a time without doing too much damage. Of course, that's exactly when Voldemort decided to raise his reptilian head. I wish Millicent had held on for another few years. She would have packed Dolores off to a pixie observation shelter in Cornwall rather than give her any real responsibility. She also would have done something before all of this began to get out of hand.” Shaking his head he looked at Percy. “You're supposed to brief the young lady on what she needs to know for tomorrow.”

Looking at Hermione, Percy smiled wanly. “Of course, you were correct about the Concords and their provisions regarding hearings and trials. As a member in good standing of your office, you had the right to register with the Wizengamot regarding this hearing. Most of the divisions do as a matter of course, so in case an expert is required, there's someone on the hook to be called. Most people have forgotten, or never knew that the reverse is always true. So you'll be able to assert your credentials without a hitch.”

Mopping his brow with a monogrammed cloth that bore the crest of the Ministry on it, he sighed. “Merlin knows that this will stir up a puka's nest for every case that follows, but you'll be fine for tomorrow. Is there anything you're going to need help with?”

Smiling the smile that usually meant someone was about to wish that Hermione had chosen to skive off rather than rain on their parade; she looked over at Percy and nodded. “I'll need to talk to Ollivander before I'm ready to take control. If I'm not back by the start of her testimony, can you orchestrate a delay or recall a witness? It shouldn't take me too long if I get to Ollivander's right when he opens in the morning. The hearing resumes at thirteen?”

“Yes, yes. Thirteen on the dot. Why Ollivander?” Looking perplexed, Percy was obviously uncomfortable with not knowing all of the details.

“Nothing major, just that he'll be the sort of expert that can't be argued with. Besides, I've always liked the old dear, ever since he told me that my wand was singing and waiting on me. You don't know how much that meant to an eleven year old muggle who wasn't certain that this whole magic thing wasn't an elaborate practical joke someone was pranking me with.”

Smiling as she thought back to the first time she'd held her wand and how she suddenly knew what it was that had been missing from her life up to that point, she blushed a bit as she remembered how her first kiss with Harry resulted in the very same feeling. “And with his help, I think we can put Umbridge in a box that she can't wiggle out of.”

Looking closely at Percy, she suddenly sobered. “Percy, I know you've said you're fine with what I've got planned, but I really don't want to cause you any grief or discomfort. I can feed you what you need to know and you can handle the whole cross tomorrow.”

Leaning back in his chair and laughing, Percy smiled at her. “Hermione, I appreciate you thinking of me, especially after all the things I said and did over a couple of years. I can truly appreciate what Harry here sees in you. For that matter, what our entire family sees in you.”

Smiling at the blush, which began to colour her cheeks, Percy nodded. “But you're going to lose your billing as the genius witch of your generation if you honestly believe that I could do even an adequate job with what you're planning for tomorrow, much less live up to the standard that you're likely to set. I know you're doing something that you feel is important with the house-elf work, and I've seen the first drafts of the rewrites on departmental procedures and Ministry policies that you've been churning out and everything is top shelf. You need to seriously think about starting training for a position with Magical Law Enforcement in the next couple of years.”

Watching as Harry nodded encouragingly to her, Percy chuckled. “If Harry here doesn't mention to you that you're brilliant at least once a day, let me know and I'll set him straight for you. Once you've laid the groundwork for your reforms, you really should give some thought to being in a position where you have the ability to make things happen.”

Stopping himself when he saw Hermione's face beginning to resemble some sort of warning beacon, he chuckled again. “Though I'm still not certain what Kingsley meant when I told him that you should be shanghaied into MLE whether you thought you were ready or not.”

Interrupting to give Hermione time to recover herself, Harry asked “What did the Minister say Percy?”

“Something about Hermione being his resource of last resort when he needed something done with a bit of flair and subtlety and he'd thank me very much for not messing up one of his better plans.” Shaking his head, he grinned. “I know I'm mucking around way above my pay grade, but Kingsley thinks the world of you lot, especially you.”

Nodding towards Hermione he watched her start to colour again. “I know everyone in the family believes that I'm angling for the position of Minister someday, but I'd be very proud and very content to be doing what I'm doing now if you were running the show. I know what my limitations are and what my strengths are. And I'd like to think that as I've gotten a bit older and, hopefully, a bit wiser, that I could recognize those who have the abilities that I lack. Which would be you four.”

Nodding towards Pius, he continued. “Or you. Even under the effects of an Imperius Curse, you still managed to do the day-to-day work that was necessary to keep things running. Not that that was a good thing, considering who was pulling your strings, but Voldemort didn't know the first thing about leading and managing. His idea of motivation is to Crucio everyone who fails until he finds someone who can do what he wants, or he runs out of victims. Immensely evil and not too bright on the practical side is not a good mix, thankfully.”

Laughing, the four friends were totally taken off guard by Percy's droll assessment of the limitations of the Dark Lord.

“Stars Percy,” Ginny gasped between peals of laughter. “Don't make it sound as if the only reason Voldemort was defeated was because he skived off lessons in management. “

“I didn't say that. All I said was that he would have wrecked the entire system if he'd stayed in power much longer. It was bad enough the intentional damage and destruction he was causing. Add to that the damage and destruction being caused by the fact that with the exception of a few competent people under an imperious curse, the majority of them were all self-centered types that didn't think any further than what would amuse them.” Shaking his head, he marveled at the lunacy of evil.

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4. Chapter Four – The Last Stand of Dolores Jane

Chapter Four - The Last Stand of Dolores Jane

As September days went, this one had begun with the promise of sunshine and heat and had lived up to its expectations. By the time the hour to resume the trial of Dolores Umbridge arrived, the heat of the day had made even the normally cool chamber uncomfortable. Yet the gallery was packed with spectators and participants. Since Hogwarts was in session, none of the younger members of Dumbeldore's Army were present, but the surviving senior members were there in force.

As Minister Shacklebolt gaveled the proceedings into order, only one seat remained empty. The seat beside Harry, the one that was unfailingly occupied by Hermione was empty. Ron sat on the other side of the open chair with Ginny leaning across Harry to whisper loudly to her brother. A hush came over the court as Shacklebolt and Aloysius Carrenton, Advocate for the Defense, exchanged remarks prior to the defendant beginning her testimony.

Moving deftly to her seat, Hermione's face was flushed as she handed Harry a large bundle of parchments and gave Ron her valise, flashing them all a very satisfied smile.

“Percy was looking worried that you weren't going to be here.” Ron leaned over and whispered into her ear as she settled into her seat. “I think he was afraid that you had gotten tied up with Ollivander and lost track of the time.”

“Ronald, when have I ever lost track of the time?” Hermione asked, arching an eyebrow that implied his answer was going to be taken under serious evaluation.

Leaning across Harry's lap, Ginny stage-whispered loud enough for the entire gallery to get a chuckle. “Only every time there's a book involved or a question you can't answer. Other than that, you're as punctual as the Cannon's first win of the Quidditch season.” Giving Harry a wicked grin as she straightened up and tried to assume an innocent `who me' pose to deflect Percy's glare from the dais; she smiled sweetly at her best friend.

“'Mione, she does have a point, but I knew you would be here for this.” Harry grinned, trying to keep Hermione from getting too flustered. He turned to Ginny and whispered something in her ear. The look of contrition on Ginny's face puzzled Hermione, but she gave his hand a quick squeeze and settled back to watch the proceedings.

Clearing his throat, Percy let his gaze settle on the wizard standing behind the defendant's chair. “Is the Advocate prepared to present the defense?” Nodding to the Advocate, he waited as Carrenton sighed and squared his shoulders.

“If it pleases the Wizengamot, the defendant has elected to speak on her own behalf and present her own defense. I have counseled her that she is not required to testify, other than to answer questions from the court regarding the facts of the case, but she has elected to present her case as an affirmative defense. It is her contention that she was simply following established Ministry policy and guidelines while she was the lawful head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission. Also, it is her contention that the Commission was simply trying to correct years of injustice and fraudulent behavior in attempting to reverse the crimes that the muggle-born have perpetrated upon unsuspecting witches and wizards for centuries.” Looking very tired, Carrenton tried to smile bravely as he ignored the snickers and whispers that erupted from the gallery.

Lightly touching the tip of his gavel to the wooden surface before him, the Minister interrupted Percy's acknowledgement. “Aloysius, is there anything else before your client begins?”

“As an officer of the court, I'm duty bound to ask for a postponement of the proceedings in order that an evaluation of my client's competency can be made.”

Smiling grimly, Kingsley slowly shook his head. “Sorry, old friend, that particular hippogriff has left the stables. Not following your advocate's advice is not, in and of itself, a sign that a defendant isn't capable of defending themselves.”

Sighing, Aloysius shook his head and stated, for the record. “The defense calls Dolores Jane Umbridge to give testimony and present evidence in the matter of the Ministry of Magic versus Dolores Jane Umbridge.” Slowly sinking into his chair, he gathered himself together.

Clearing her throat, the defendant began to rise. Seeing the sudden movement the two aurors that accompanied her began to move. “Let her stand.” Percy ordered. “If she's going to insist on acting as her own advocate for this, we'll allow her the freedom to move from the witness chair and some leeway in her behaviour.”

Looking directly at the defendant, he continued. “However, if her behaviour becomes a danger to herself or any other individual, you have my permission to utilize whatever magical force is necessary to regain order and control. And the Wizengamot is officially notifying the defendant that any statement or action she makes while acting as her own advocate will be viewed as pertinent to the case and the determinations of fact so she is warned that the leeway that is sometimes provided to advocates does not extend to herself.” Waiting for a few seconds for an acknowledgement, he shook his head and asked, again. “Are these instructions clear, Ms Umbridge?”

“Yes, yes.” Stepping away from the chair, she began to pace in front of the dais. “I realize that you have to go through the formalities since those dreadful children have pushed this farce this far, but I'd really like to get this resolved today so I can get back to work.”

Moving over to the table, she picked up a four-inch thick bound volume of parchments. A similar volume sat before each of the members of the court. “I thank the Ministry for duplicating this procedures manual from the Commission. And I'd like to thank the members of the court for taking the time to read this and acquaint themselves with the guidelines and strictures that the Commission operates under.”

Looking around and smiling sweetly, Umbridge seemed totally oblivious to the fact that most of the members of the Wizengamot were staring at her in utter disbelief, and the rest were scowling with such disdain that there could be no doubt in anyone's mind the opinions they had of the documents being referenced.

“As you can quite plainly read, we documented most carefully the long term insidious plot against the Ministry and the stability of the wizarding community here in Britain by the so called “muggle-born'. That they stole their powers and wands from unsuspecting witches and wizards goes without saying. Our goal and mandate was to educate the public about this threat, document the location of the muggle-born filchers of our rightful heritage, and finally begin to draft a solution that would allow the stolen powers to be rightfully returned to those whose powers had been diminished.”

Pacing back and forth across the front of the gallery, Umbridge kept smiling at any of the members of the court whose eye she could catch. “The various hearings that have been so maliciously maligned during these proceedings were quite carefully controlled sessions where the Commission could evaluate and properly categorize the extent to which these so-called muggle-born had violated the rules of decent society in victimizing untold numbers of witches and wizards by stealing what was rightly theirs in the first place. The Dementors were merely there to protect Ministry personnel from these insidious and vicious criminals.”

Stopping in front of the Minister and Percy, she looked up at them as if they were slightly backward students who did still not comprehend a lesson carefully prepared for them. “I think this should explain everything quite clearly, Mr. Minister.” Waiting for a response that wasn't coming, she seemed quite unaware of the look of utter disbelief on Shacklebolt's face. “Now, I know you're a busy person, but surely you must a few questions so I can finally get back to my office and return to work.”

As Percy picked up a roll of parchment and prepared to question the defendant, a voice rang out from the gallery. “A petition of amicus curiae is now laid before this court by a duly registered representative of the Ministry.” Clear and strong, the voice of Hermione Granger cut through the whisperings that were emanating from the galleries.

.

Picking up his cue, Percy focused upon Hermione as if he'd never seen her before. “Please state you name and your reason for claiming amicus curiae status before this proceedings.”

Sputtering and exploding into a torrent of unrecognizable sounds, Dolores Umbridge stared into the gallery at the face of her nemesis. “This is preposterous. That muggle born harpy can't have any legitimate position within the ministry, much less leave to sully these proceedings. She's beguiled that brainless boy into thinking she's something, but she's just one of those delinquents that plagued the school years ago. Dumbledore and Cornelius were both too soft-hearted to deal with the likes of her.” Pointing a trembling finger at Hermione, she continued. “Go home, missy. My office will schedule you an appointment so we can sort you out. Hussy.”

A hush fell over the chamber. With the exception of three people, everyone was staring at Hermione, waiting to see her response. Harry was busy restraining Ginny, Ginny was busy trying to elude Harry and do something very flamboyant and, most likely, illegal, and Ron was staring at Umbridge with a shocked expression on his face as if he'd never seen anyone quite so bent on self destruction before.

Only Hermione Granger was watching the defendant and smiling. Smiling as if Christmas, her birthday, and every holiday ever invented had just presented themselves to her all at once. Without taking her eyes from Umbridge, she answered Percy.

“My name is Hermione Jane Granger, accredited member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and registered representative for the Department for the purpose of these proceedings.”

“And what standing does the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures have with this case.” Smiling for the first time, Percy continued. “Surely it isn't the Department's contention that Ms Umbridge is a house-elf, is it?” Ignoring the strangled sputterings from the defendant, Percy waited patiently for the answer he knew was coming.

“Not at all, and Percy, you should be ashamed of yourself. You really need to apologize to house-elves in general and Kreacher in particular for suggesting such a thing.”

Ignoring the laughter that was erupting from both the court and the gallery, Hermione continued. “The Department's standing with this case is very clear. Although shameful, Commission Directive Three is still, technically, on the books due to an oversight on someone's part. Since Directive Three, signed by the defendant herself, states that `muggle born witches and wizards cannot be considered as equal with witches and wizards born to wizarding families, they will be given limited status on a par with house elves, centaurs, goblins and other creatures of non-human and part-human status', and as the victims of her crimes are all, for the most part, either muggle born or the relatives of muggle born, the Department asks for leave to cross examine the defendant's presentation and present expert testimony as allowed under the Concords and the Rules of Procedure for the Wizengamot.”

Taking a breath she smiled wanly. “It came as a bit of a shock to see that, as a muggle born I wasn't considered quite human any more, but since I fall, temporarily I hope, under the aegis of this directive, the Department wishes to involve itself in this matter.”

Taking two steps in Hermione's direction, Umbridge stopped as she noticed the threatening looks on the faces of the aurors assigned to her. Sputtering profusely, she turned in the direction of the Minister. “Surely you're not going to let this travesty go on, Minister Shacklebolt? This chit of a thieving magpie is simply trying to muddy the waters here and cast doubts upon the reformations that my Commission enacted for the good of a peaceful and tranquil wizarding society.”

Trying to appear, at least nominally, impartial, Minister Shacklebolt addressed the defendant. “Ms Umbridge, did Ms Granger summarize Commission Directive Three, which I see is, apparently, the only portion of the entire Commission apparatus that is still in effect?”

“You know as well as I do that that spell-robber parroted it back word for word. She hasn't the wit to understand, but she was always able to recite by rote anything she'd heard or read.” Ignoring the look of cold disdain on Kingsley's face and the utter disbelief on Percy's she turned back towards Hermione up in the gallery.

“Are you still here? I told you to go home and wait for a hearing.” The disturbance in the gallery was a bit noisier since Harry was having a more difficult time restraining Ginny, members of the DA was muttering among themselves and fingering their wands, and Ron was trying to stand, seemingly held in place by the one finger Hermione had placed on his shoulder. All the while Hermione was smiling sweetly and awaiting a response from the court.

Looking up at Hermione, and seeing her nod, Kingsley turned back to the defendant and sighed. “Since the defense acknowledges the basis for the petition of the representative of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, the petition is granted under the Concords and Miss Granger will be allowed to proceed as a friend of this court to question the defendant and present testimony to illuminate these proceedings.” Looking up, he smiled warmly. “Hermione, would you care for a short recess while you make your way down to this level?”

Laughing, Hermione genuinely smiled in return. “Thank you Minister Shacklebolt, but I can be down there in a shake. Far be it from me to interfere with the defendant's right to a speedy trial.” Collecting her valise from Ron, she turned to Harry for the parchments she had entrusted to him earlier. Apparently noticing for the first time Ginny's attempts to free herself from Harry's grasp, she whispered “Ginevra, behave yourself.”

As Ginny subsided, Hermione turned and walked to the edge of the gallery and looked over her shoulder. “Harry, if you could give me a hand down?” she asked as Harry gently moved her down to the lower level with a slight tick of his wand, nodding to her as she performed an impromptu curtsey. Walking over to the space before the bench, she looked up a Percy. “If it's not too much trouble, could I have something to put my notes on?” A very startled Percy conjured a small table and an elegant lectern for her use.

Placing her valise on the table, she set the parchments on the lectern and nodded pleasantly towards the advocate. Smiling sweetly, she waited as Umbridge stared at her while growing increasingly agitated. Waiting patiently, Hermione saw that an explosion was inevitable and she decided to see if she could prod the defendant into doing it now, rather than interrupting her cross examination. Hermione's patience was rewarded when Dolores' face turned a shade of red that she had only, heretofore, seen associated with warning lights and emergency klaxons.

Looking up at Kingsley, a fey light shining in her eyes, Umbridge sputtered. “Surely the Minister can't expect me to take this thieving slattern seriously?” Amazingly, though she was standing there looking expectantly at Kingsley, she failed to see the dangerous glint in his eye. She also seemed deaf to the mutterings from the gallery, although everyone else could hear Ginny's whispered pleading with Harry to let her go for `just one teeny little curse'. The only thing she did hear was Hermione's laughter, ringing throughout the chamber. Turning towards the younger witch, with a look of fear and loathing in her eyes, she continued. “Ask your questions, scant good it'll do you.”

“Thank you, Ms Umbridge; I appreciate your cooperation with these proceedings.” Hermione returned drolly, ignoring the background mutterings from both the court and the gallery. “I've read you presentation, and while it's remarkable in its scope, it seems to be lacking just a bit in specifics.”

Smiling she waved her wand airily at a copy sitting in front of the advocate who was trying not to show any emotion at all. “It reminded me of `Holiday with Hags', without the scholarship of course.” Open laughter began to erupt from the gallery. Looking up, first at Kingsley with a smile and then at Harry with an apologetic grin, she sighed. “But that's neither here nor there. There are a couple of things I'd like you to clarify for the court, if you would be so kind.” Nodding towards Umbridge, Hermione waited for the inevitable response.

Glaring at her, Umbridge nodded her head, begrudgingly. “I'd be ever so happy to enlighten you. But seeing as I was unable to accomplish that in a year of classes at Hogwarts, I really don't think we have sufficient time for me to remedy you lack of understanding during these proceedings. Since I doubt you could comprehend any of it, is there a specific portion of my work that you would like explained?”

Touching her wand to the exhibit, the book obediently fell open to a spot about midway through. Double tapping the page in question and circling a specific passage, the text appeared in three inch tall letters in mid air. “Ms Umbridge, here on page two hundred fifty-seven and in one hundred and twelve other places in your treatise you refer to the muggle-born `stealing the wands and powers of unsuspecting wizards and witches' or words to that effect.” As Hermione quoted the text in question, the phrase began to glow subtly as it hung in mid-air.

“Of course, that would be the only way someone like yourself could presume to usurp the powers rightfully belonging to those of us of the wizarding world. Being related to the Selwyn's...”

Cutting across the defendant's rambling, Hermione smiled wanly. “Yes, yes. I'm certain that all of that family history is most enlightening. But I have a relatively simple question to ask about that remarkable assertion.” Waiting until she had Umbridge's attention, she shrugged her shoulders and asked, “How?”

“Beg your pardon? What a ridiculous question.”

“Actually it's not. The crux of your entire theory is that the muggle-born have stolen their wands and powers from legitimate witches and wizards. So for a case in point, since I am muggle-born, how did I as an eleven year old muggle steal the powers and wand of some unsuspecting witch or wizard?”

Waiting with an air of amused anticipation, Hermione watched Umbridge's eyes narrow as she regarded her with a look of loathing. “There I was, all four foot three of me, a rampaging menace of bushy hair and grim determination.” Slapping her hand sharply on the lectern in front of her, she fixed her gaze upon Umbridge and repeated herself. “Exactly how did that child steal someone's wand and magic?” Holding up her wand, she twirled the vine wood wand between her fingers, light glistening from it as a delicate tracer of golden motes fell from the tip like fairy dust. “This wand, the one I stole, according to your research and findings.”

Not taking her eyes from the wand, Dolores nodded. “Yes, yes. That's the wand you stole from someone. We haven't figured out how to trace them back to the original owner, but we're working on that.”

Laughing in response, Hermione looked around the room, from Percy to Harry to the darkened entranceway to the lower level. “Really? There's no one who knows who the wand was originally owned by.” Watching Umbridge nod her head, she smiled. “If it pleases the court, I would like to call for expert testimony to refute that statement by the defendant.”

Looking up at Percy, she returned his cautious nod with one of her own. “Under the concords and the rules of procedure for this august court, I ask that Ollivander the wand maker present himself before this body to enlighten us regarding wands.” Turning to Umbridge and her advocate, she graciously held out a hand. “Unless, of course, the defense would care to dispute his expertise in this area?” Taking the speechless shock on Umbridge's face and the begrudged satisfaction on Carrenton's as assent, she turned to the entranceway. “Let Ollivander the wandmaker present himself for the pleasure of the Wizengamot.”

Striding into the room, Ollivander approached the center of the court. Smiling at Hermione, he gave a respectful nod to Kingsley, utterly ignoring Umbridge and her advocate. Waiting with his hands clasped before him, his silvery eyes sought out the wand in Hermione's hand.

“Excellent my dear. May I?” Reaching his hand towards her, she smilingly surrendered her wand to the wand maker. Taking it from her, he ran his long fingers over the wood, quirked an eyebrow at her and proceeded to flourish the wand in a peculiar motion. A flock of canaries erupted from the wand, and flew straight into the gallery to circle around Ron's head, much to the discomfort of Ron and the amusement of the rest of the assembled crowd. “Seven and seven eights, vine wood with a dragon heartstring, with just a touch of give to it.”

Handing the wand back to her he gave her a slight bow. “Both you and this wand have come a very long way since I sold it to you. It suffered not at all in the hands of Greyback, and it still rejoices in your touch.” After smiling at Hermione, he looked up at Kingsley. “Eleven and three quarters palm with a sirrush heartstring core. I believe you have some questions for me Mr. Minister?”

“Not I, but our young friend here. You were listening to the testimony of the defendant regarding her remarkable theories regarding wands?” Watching Ollivander's amused nod, he continued. “I believe that Miss Granger would like your opinion on those claims.”

Turning towards Umbridge and her advocate, Kingsley smiled grimly. “For the record, the Wizengamot and the Ministry both recognize Ollivander as the premier expert on wands and wand lore here in Britain, if not the known wizarding world. I trust there won't be any challenges to his expertise?” Waiting for both to nod their assent, he finished. “Miss Granger, please ask your questions of our expert.”

“Thank you, Mr. Minister.” Smiling she turned her gaze back to Ollivander. “Though I think you've answered the first of my questions, already.” Holding up her wand she giggled as a few motes of golden light drifted down from the tip. “This is the wand that you sold to an eleven year old muggle born witch, namely myself? There's no possibility that the four foot three inch menace to wizarding society that I was stole this from some other witch or wizard?” Smiling widely, she watched the advocate try to keep a straight face as she asked her question in a voice that was pure innocence.

“Nonsense, child. I told you the day I sold that wand to you and your parents that it had been waiting for fifteen years for your hand. I am willing to affirm to this court that I sold this very wand to you and can account for its provenance quite clearly.” Reaching out his hand once again, he asked, “May I?”

Nodding, Hermione silently handed her wand back to Ollivander. Focusing his strange eyes upon the vine wood wand, he made a couple of complex motions with his long fingered hands as the wand began to glow with a slightly golden aura. “Let's see, yours was the first hand after mine to awaken magic from this wand. The next hand was your Mr. Potter; permission was freely given by yourself. You and he shared use of the wand for a period of time. After that it was in the possession of Fenrir Greyback, although it barely tolerated the touch of his hand. Control was returned to you by your Mr. Weasley who allowed his and Mr. Longbottom's claim to the wand to cede to you. Since then, you've allowed your Mr. Potter to use the wand on a number of occasions.” Quirking an eyebrow at Hermione as he passed it back to her, everyone watched as she blushed profusely as she accepted the wand. “I really don't see how you could have had time to steal this wand from anyone, since it's been yours since I placed it in a box on my shelf three years before you were born.”

Forgetting that his client was representing herself for the moment, Carrenton stood. “Objection, I find it difficult to believe that anyone, even a distinguished expert such as Ollivander, can positively identify a wand with that degree of accuracy after so many years.”

Looking at Carrenton, Ollivander spoke. “Eleven and a half, yew wood siren's hair core, very springy. But that's not the wand you carry now, may I?” Holding out his hand, the advocate passed his wand to the wand maker. “Hmmm, eleven and three quarters, cedar with a griffon heart core. You won this from Ludo Bagman on a bet during the 1972 quidditch playoffs. Who would have thought the Cannons would come back from a four hundred point deficit to win it after four days?” Shaking his head as he passed it back, he sighed. “I never did quite believe his story that his had been broken during a game against Puddlemere United.”

Looking totally flummoxed, Carrenton softly withdrew his objection and sat down, staring at the wand in his hands. Staring indignantly at Hermione and Ollivander, Umbridge was sputtering and hissing like a demented teakettle. Looking back towards the defendant, Hermione smiled and asked sweetly. “I believe you're free to ask him any questions about his testimony you'd like. Don't be shy; I'm certain that you must have something you'd like to know.”

Finally regaining control of herself enough to speak, Dolores launched into a tirade of invective that started with Hermione and gradually broadened to include every muggle born witch she could think of. After she was silenced by the auror assigned to her, Hermione shook her head. “As the muggles say, I don't think that was quite in the form of a question. Maegan, if you'd be so kind as to release her, she should be allowed to try again.”

Nodding to the auror standing a couple of steps behind Umbridge, Hermione smiled reassuringly as the auror released the spell that had kept the defendant silent, for a few seconds. Nodding to Umbridge as the older witch visibly calmed herself, Hermione made a gracious gesture towards Ollivander, indicating she could commence her questioning.

“How can you come in here and bolster her lies?” Umbridge began, looking directly into the strange silvery eyes of the wand maker. “You couldn't have sold her that wand; she must have stolen it, just like she's stolen everything else.” Breaking off her questioning, leaving a slightly befuddled Ollivander staring at her in quiet bemusement, she began to pace back and forth under the wary eyes of her keepers.

“That's all they're good for, coming in like vipers and stealing away magic and happiness and everything we're supposed to have.” Looking up at the Minister and Percy, she pointed a stubby finger at Kingsley. “You're going to let this happen. You and your `reforms' are going to allow everything to be destroyed. Nothing will be left. They come in here, slinking around; flashing their muggle smiles, stealing what isn't theirs. It's not right, it has to stop.”

Before the Minister could respond, before Advocate Carrenton could attempt to hush his client, even before Hermione could react to the outburst, a loud crack from the gallery drew everyone's attention to the seats away from the section where Dumbledore's Army was seated. A young witch, red faced and furious, pointed her finger at Umbridge as she stood facing the defendant. “Aunt Dolores, you're so full of tripe I'm surprised you can even stand there. This isn't about anything more than your still carrying out schoolgirl grudges. I told Mum that I was going to end this once and for all.”

Silence reigned throughout the courtroom. No whispering just stunned silence. Dolores Umbridge seemed stricken dumb, her mouth working but nothing coming out. Finally Hermione took a deep breath and broke the silence.

“Hello Marietta. It's been a while. I take it you have something to add to these proceedings?”

Marietta Edgecombe swallowed and nodded slowly. “If it pleases the court, I would like to present information that will shed light on this entire sorry affair. My aunt is a vile and vindictive woman and this has got to stop today.”

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5. Chapter Five – Casus Belli, Findings of Fact, and Just Desse

Author's Disclaimer. - First, the usual disclaimers. I'm not JKR. This is just for fun. No infringement, real or imagined, is intended by this story. Everything you recognize is, most likely, the property of JKR and her various publishers and marketers. The only exceptions to that would be the trial procedures which are vaguely modeled upon real world processes, and I tried to not let it fall into the opinion of Mr. Bumble, the behavior restrictions which are vaguely modeled upon Asimov's `Three Laws of Robotics', and the visual effect of the bracer, which is explained at the end.

***

Chapter Five - Casus Belli, Findings of Fact, and Just Desserts.

The silence in the courtroom was shattered by a tidal wave of discussion. While not overtly hostile, the members of the DA were still markedly cool towards their former classmate. Looking decidedly uncomfortable, Marietta appeared downcast as she waited for events to proceed.

Hermione studied her former classmate and saw that she was very different than she remembered her from Hogwarts. Deciding she needed to make an effort to regain control of the situation, she looked up at Percy and nodded towards his gavel. As Percy gaveled the courtroom back into order, Hermione cleared her throat and turned towards Kingsley and Percy.

“Mr. Minister, if it pleases the court, if Ms Edgecombe feels she has information that would enlighten these proceedings, I would like to give her a chance to tell her story. Her revealed relationship to the defendant indicates that she could be in possession of knowledge that would shed light upon some of the murkier aspects of these matters. Under the Concords, I would like to call Ms Edgecombe to give testimony regarding these matters.”

Looking at the defendant, Umbridge was still too flummoxed to respond. Her advocate, however, rose to speak. “It would see that this young lady, regardless of her sincerity, could only give us information based upon her knowledge of the defendant's motivations, rather than any specifics as to what she may or may not have done.”

Smiling, Hermione nodded in agreement. “Mr. Minister, I agree with Advocate Carrenton's assessment. But, since Ms Umbridge has already testified as to what she has done and why, Ms Edgecombe's testimony would bear on information already introduced by the defendant. Surely the defense cannot be contending that motivation bears no impact upon someone's culpability. If a Healer performs a procedure with the intent of healing or aiding a person and due to information deliberately withheld the procedure has an adverse effect, the Healer isn't held culpable for the adverse outcome. The inverse must also be true. If we were to credit the defendant's assertions that her actions were as innocent as she maintains, her motivations in performing them must also be pertinent. A seemingly innocent act performed with the intent to cause great harm is just as damning as an offensive one.”

Shaking his head, Kingsley looked at Hermione for several seconds before turning back to the defendant and her advocate. “Aloysius, I'm going to allow Ms Edgecombe a chance to present her information. If this were direct testimony, you would be correct. But your client has already laid the groundwork for this by introducing her motivations as part of her defense.” Giving a slow nod, Kingsley gave Hermione leave to go forward.

“Marietta, if you're ready to proceed, I can facilitate you coming down to the lower level, if you'd like?” Speaking in a gentle and conciliatory tone, Hermione watched her former classmate blush. Taking her hesitant nod for assent, Hermione silently levitated the witch down to the lower floor, her dress robes gently brushing the floor as she regained her footing. Watching as Marietta walked towards her, she noted the glare of disgust that she regarded Umbridge with.

“For the record, could you give your name to the court?” Percy asked as he looked expectantly at the younger witch.

“My name is Marietta Dolores Edgecombe, and I'm a junior clerk in the Floo registration network with the Ministry.” Bobbing her head, her strawberry blond curls bounced as she swiveled her gaze from Percy to Hermione. “And for the record, Hermione I'm very sorry for what I did back at school. I need to apologize to you and Harry and to the rest of Dumbledore's Army for what I did that night. I thought I could repair the rift between my mother and her sister by doing what my aunt wanted.”

Blinking back tears, she turned her gaze upon her aunt. “You cost me every friend I had, except one, and you still wouldn't acknowledge me as your niece because you were still bitter that Mum married my Dad.” Shaking her head, she whispered. “This all goes back to her sick beliefs and hatreds, but it's going to stop here and now.” Looking up, she gazed imploringly at Hermione. “I can't expect anyone to forgive me, but I'm still going to explain why she did what she did, especially to you.”

Blustering, Umbridge finally found her voice. “Mr. Minster, this silly child is simply acting out due to her well deserved feelings of inadequacy. I told my sister that marrying that mechanic was a mistake and their child is a perfect example of what the Commission is trying to prevent.”

Giving way to laughter, with just a manic twinge to it, Marietta shook her head. “I'd call you a foul evil harpy, but that would be an injustice to harpies, Aunt Dolores. Your entire crusade against the muggle-born is simply the spiteful vendetta of a schoolgirl who could never accept the fact that the boy she fancied married a muggle-born witch. Mum told me that John Dawlish never looked twice at you, yet you acted as if Carley Abbot stole him out from under you.”

Turning red in the face, Umbridge shook her head. “Your mother helped her steal him from me. She thought the fact that they were both in Ravenclaw counted for more than blood. And my feelings for John had nothing to do with the truths I tried to bring out.”

Rolling her eyes, Marrietta laughed. “And he wasn't even the first. Mum told me about you making a spectacle of yourself when you were a second year. You actually thought that boy had noticed you? You were twelve for Merlin's sake.”

Shaking her head in disbelief, Marietta continued on. “Xenophilius Lovegood was a seventh year in Ravenclaw, he probably never knew you existed, much less your name. He and Aranrhod Jones were soul bonded, for Merlin's sake. Your insane jealousy of every muggle-born witch started then and it hasn't let up. Merlin's wand!”

“Thirteen and one eight inches, yew wood, seadragon heartstring,” Ollivander answered, apparently not realizing that the young witch hadn't asked him a question.

Trying to ignore the cryptic and very disturbing remark from Ollivander, Hermione turned to Marietta. “So it's your contention that the defendant's actions are a result of two failed crushes she had while she was a student at Hogwarts?” A note of incredulity crept into her voice as she asked.

“As ashamed as I am to admit she's my aunt, yes that's exactly what I'm saying. And that's why she hated Harry's mum, you, and Luna.” Looking up into the gallery at Harry she shrugged. “Both your dad and Professor Snape fancied the same girl, a muggle-born witch named Lily Evans. She was livid that they weren't pursuing witches of `proper wizarding families' and so she tried to get your mum expelled, or at least so buried in detentions that she'd not have time to see either one of them. She didn't count on your mum being the Hermione of her day and your dad having more detentions than anyone else in his year.”

Shaking her head sadly, she turned to Luna, who was looking a bit less distant than she normally did. “Luna, she hated your mum for marrying your dad. Aunt Dolores was behind the death-eaters taking you off the train and taking you into custody. She saw that as a chance to rid herself of the final reminder of her bitterness against your mum” Blinking back tears, she continued. “If you're still talking to my family, you should come by sometime and speak with my Mum. She was a good friend of your mother's when they were in Ravenclaw together.”

Turning to Hermione, she squared her shoulders. “And she hates you because of Harry and Ron. Mostly Harry. She believed that you were involved with Harry and she was furious because she was convinced you were the reason his romance with Cho didn't work out.”

Turning back to her aunt she continued. “While she tried to convince anyone who would listen that the muggle-born had stolen their wands and powers from `deserving' witches and wizards, this whole thing was because she felt that a couple of muggle-born witches `stole' boys who she fancied.” Shaking her head sadly, she continued. “And the really sad thing is that neither one knew you existed.” Smiling bravely, she turned back to Hermione. “And that's the whole of her vendetta. Hell hath no fury like a totally insane witch who thinks she's been scorned.”

Shaking her head slowly, Hermione bit her lip for a second; she looked up into the gallery at Harry. The two of them gazed at each other for almost twenty seconds, until an accord was reached between them. Smiling as he nodded his assent, she turned back to the dais in front of her. “If it pleases the court, I would like to beg the Wizengamot's indulgence for a moment as I need to resolve an injustice that has been brought to light by this testimony.” Ignoring the bewildered look on Marietta's face, she waited for a response from Kingsley.

“Will the resolution of this injustice involve a finding of fact against the defendant?” Kingsley asked gravely.

“Mr. Minister, the injustice involves myself and others in regards to this witness and has no direct bearing on the guilt of innocence of the defendant.”

“You may proceed, Miss Granger, as long as it's brief.”

“My thanks, Mr. Minister. As a member of the Order, this matter attains to you as well.” Turning around and facing the gallery, Hermione gazed impassively at her friends as her voice rang out in the chamber.

“Dumbledore's Army, I present Marietta Edgecombe, a member of our fellowship who has been absent from our ranks for far too long, it would seem.” Looking around and seeing the looks on the faces present, she continued. “What say you?” A rousing chorus of `Aye' rang through the chamber, and Hermione turned to face a bewildered Marietta.

“Marietta, we judged you without knowing all the facts and circumstances. Please forgive us, and we ask that you'd do us the honor of resuming your membership in our `ragtag group of delinquents'. That is, if you're willing?” Taking Marietta's stunned nod for assent, Hermione looked up to Kingsley and Percy. “Mr. Minister, Dumbledore's Army would like to thank you for this opportunity to see a lingering wrong corrected. The Order should be notified of a candidate since Ms Edgecombe is of an age as some of the rest of us.” Flashing a genuine smile at her classmate, Hermione returned to the business at hand.

“Ms Edgecombe, is there any other testimony you would care to give or a statement you would like to make?” Nodding towards Marietta, Hermione tried to look encouragingly at her friend who was still visibly shaken by what had transpired.

“My mother and I would like to thank the Wizengamot for this opportunity. My aunt has let her hate and bitterness ruin her life and the lives of her family, which is bad enough, but she took advantage of Voldemort's rise to power to expand her bitterness to as many people as she could reach. She's disturbed and she needs help, but she shouldn't be allowed to hurt anyone else.”

Turning towards her aunt, she continued. “Aunt Dolores, I turned my back on my friends and you couldn't even acknowledge me as your relative because of who my father is, and it's come to a stop. Your petty jealousies have caused enough problems.” Shaking her head ruefully, she sighed. “If they ever let you out of Azkaban, you are so not invited to Christmas.” Turning back to Hermione she flashed a grateful smile. “Is there anything else?”

Looking towards Umbridge and her advocate, Hermione looked expectantly. “Does the defense have any questions for this witness?”

Clearing his throat, Carrenton rose from his chair. “I believe the Defense has no questions for the young lady.” Flashing the young witch a sympathetic smile, he nodded towards Hermione and then Percy.

“Seeing as the court has no questions for you, please accept the thanks of the Wizengamot for your testimony and you are released today from these proceedings.” Nodding to Marietta, he watched as the younger witch turned around, ignoring her aunt, and left the room.

As the doors closed behind him, he turned his gaze towards Hermione and Carrenton. “Are there any more questions for Ollivander?” Watching both parties shake their heads and give a quick `no' in response to his question, he turned and met the disturbing silver eyes of the wand maker. “Sir, unless you have further testimony to give, the Wizengamot and the Ministry would like to thank you for your service here today.”

As the venerable old wandmaker started to leave, he noticed Hermione's questioning gaze and smiled. As he passed close to her, he paused, leaned close and spoke quietly so that only she could hear him. “The crafting of his wand was completed during the full moon of June of that year. Totally different calendar then. He was muggle-born you know. Great potential, just as you showed, my dear.”

Chuckling at her confused look, he added, “We are still talking about Merlin's wand. I see I was right about both you and your Mr. Potter, both of you were headed for great and terrible things. Hopefully the terrible is behind you both.” Continuing towards the door, Hermione watched in awe as he nodded to both of the aurors by the entranceway and disappeared into the corridor beyond.

Turning her attention back to the dais, she visibly shook herself and took a deep breath. Nodding towards Percy, she flashed him an uncertain smile.

“Is the amicus curiae satisfied with the examination of the defendant's testimony?” Percy nodded towards Hermione, quirking an eyebrow as he wondered what Ollivander had said that had so unsettled her.

“We are. The Department is satisfied that the testimony of Marietta Edgecombe and Ollivander has shed sufficient light that these ridiculous assertions of the defendant can be dispensed with.” Pointing her wand, which seemed to just a tad more responsive after it's time in the hands of its maker, she wiped the air clear of the page of text that had hung there. “And if the Wizengamot and the Ministry could see its collective way clear to rescind Commission Directive Number Three at some point, we would be grateful. For this case, the Department begs leave to retain its status as a friend to the court through the sentencing phase, if such a phase becomes necessary.” The last was said so drolly that even the defendant couldn't miss the implication that a conviction was a foregone conclusion since any shred of a defense had just been demolished.

“The Department's interest is so noted. Does the Defense wish to present additional evidence, subject to examination by the Court and Miss Granger? “

Rising once again, Advocate Carrenton addressed the court. “While I'm certain that Miss Granger would like nothing better for additional points to be presented, the Defense would like to restate its contention that the defendant should not be held totally accountable for actions that occurred during such a period of disarray and confusion. Without those circumstances, none of the things she is charged with would have occurred.”

Laughing, Hermione caught Percy's eye. “The Department is willing to accept the defense's assertion that Dolores Umbridge was only a truly evil and foul person when someone allowed her to. Minister Fudge gave her free reign at Hogwarts and she turned into a petty tyrant. Tom Riddle gave her free reign and she turned into a venomous despot whose reign of terror is still claiming victims. What we don't accept is that that is mitigation. Neither circumstance forced her to do the things she did, it only gave her opportunity to do the things she wanted to do.”

Tapping his gavel three times, Percy nodded towards both parties. “Testimony in this matter is now closed. Do any members of the Wizengamot have questions for the defendant” Looking around the room, he could see that the members of the court were unanimous in shaking their heads. Turning towards Kingsley, he nodded. “The court is prepared to render a verdict in this matter.”

Kingsley leaned forward and looked around the room before addressing the assembly. “Members of the Wizengamot, you have heard testimony in the matter before you. The bill of indictment includes five hundred and eighty seven charges, but rather than dealing with each separate incident, I am going to ask for a finding of innocence or guilt based upon the entirety of the indictment. Does the court find sufficient evidence to find the defendant, Dolores Jane Umbridge, guilty of these crimes against the muggle-born witches and wizards as outlined in the indictment and as addressed by the testimony heard by this body. All in favor of conviction please signify now.” An overwhelming majority of the Wizengamot raised their hands. “Will those who feel the evidence did not prove the indictments please signify” Three defiant members of the assembly raised their hands.

“No, I will not be cast aside like that on the ramblings of a senile old shopkeeper and a spiteful girl.” The reality of her conviction broke through the shock caused by the testimony of her niece. “I refuse to believe that everything I've worked for my entire life is come to naught.”

Sighing Kingsley set back in his seat and looked at the defendant with pity. “Dolores Jane Umbridge, whether you choose to believe it or not, the Wizengamot has found you guilty of the crimes you have been charged with. Since it was a single vote on all the charges, the Ministry has recommended a single sentence of confinement in Azkaban for a period of one hundred and twenty years, at which time you will be returned to the Wizengamot for a determination of whether or not you still pose a threat to the community.”

Smiling grimly at the shocked look on the defendant's face, he motioned for the two aurors to return her to her seat. After she was seated, he returned his gaze to Hermione. “I believe that the amicus curiae wished to be heard on the matter of sentencing, since it's now become necessary.”

“Thank you, Mr. Minster.” Reaching into her valise on the table in front of her and withdrawing a heavy bracer made from goblin-silver, she continued. “As satisfying as a sentence in Azkaban seems, it also seems a waste. Ms Umbridge's crimes were against the muggle-born and muggles and we feel that her punishment and rehabilitation should make amends to those communities. What the Department proposes is that we take a leaf from the muggle justice system and sentence Ms Umbridge to `Community Service with Confinement' to specifically serve those communities. We especially feel this is fitting since the defendant feels so strongly about the members of those communities.”

Smiling she looked to Kingsley for leave to continue. “I have taken the liberty of contacting St. Mungo's and speaking to the healer in charge of the Muggle Maladies Ward. As surprising as it may seem, they have a difficult time in getting personnel to work in the ward and perform basic services in a muggle manner for those patients that are brought in to be treated. Not wanting to disturb these individuals any more than we have to to affect their cure, anything that doesn't have to be done magically, is done in the muggle fashion. The typical orderly functions from a muggle hospital are what we're speaking of here. What we're proposing is eighty thousand hours of community service on the ward, performing basic housekeeping and other functions without the use of magic. This would allow the defendant to make amends to the community she wronged and, hopefully, allow her to see them as people and not objects of scorn.”

Looking perplexed, Kingsley shook his head. “I'm not certain that I would be keen to trust the defendant in a situation where she was even partially responsible for the care of muggle and muggle-born patients. Given her history of contempt and abuse it seems a chancy thing. I take it you have a solution for that?”

“Yes, your honor.” Holding up the bracer in her hand, she smiled. “This device has several functions. It was constructed in conjunction with the goblins at Gringotts; it's a basic modification of a design that they've used for centuries. They have human employees that work maintenance and what not around the bank and until they earn the trust of their goblin supervisors a similar band such as this is worn. It prevents the wearer from acting outside a certain set of parameters; specifically the ones at Gringotts prevent their employees from reading anything they're not specifically asked to read or entering any of the vaults unless specifically asked to by a goblin. This one has been created with the duties of an orderly in mind, and specifically prohibits the wearer from neglecting, allowing to come to harm, or directly harming anyone within the confines of the hospital and grounds.”

Taking Kingsley's smile as leave to continue she grinned. “Since the defendant has also exhibited a history of having problems with the truth, both the telling of it and the recognizing of it when someone else states it, there are two additional functions with this device. I know that the Ministry has banned the use of Veritaserum in all but the most extreme circumstances because it robs the imbiber of free will and forces them to answer truthfully. This device simply prevents the wearer from knowingly telling a lie. The wearer can decline to answer a question, but they can't give a false or intentionally misleading answer to a question.” Looking down at the hammered silver, she could see the phrase `I must not tell lies' in Harry's spidery scrawl, repeated multiple times on the bracer.

“You also said it aided in recognizing the truth?” Kingsley asked, remembering events in the Headmaster's office and beginning to see where this was going.

“Yes, the defendant seems to be unable to recognize when someone speaks the truth around her, so a simple charm was added to the bracer to allow her to recognize when someone speaks the truth. The greater the truth or the more strongly the speaker believes it, the stronger the indication. But, alas, it only works on things that either pertains to the wearer, or the wearer chooses to disbelieve.” Holding the bracer out to the advocate, she nodded for him to place it around his client's wrist.

As he clicked the bracer around Umbridge's wrist, she looked up at Kingsley. “May I have the court's indulgence for a demonstration?” Smiling at his assent, she looked at Umbridge with a look of undisguised glee.

“My name is Hermione Jane Granger, a Hogwarts graduate*.” The bracer glowed with a faint blue glow. Taking a step nearer to her, Hermione continued. “I am a fully qualified muggle-born witch, working for the Ministry of Magic.”

The glow intensified. Another step closer. “You have been convicted by the Wizengamot of all of the charges levied against you and now the Muggle-born Registration Commission is as dead as Tom Riddle.” Again the glow intensified, but Umbridge couldn't tear her gaze away from Hermione's.

Hermione's next step took her to Umbridge's side and she lowered her voice so that only Dolores could hear her. “You were correct, it's always been Harry, ever since the day we met.” Nodding at the look on Umbridge's face, Hermione added, “All of this, everything I did to make certain you were punished, was for Harry's sake,” The glow intensified until it was clearly visible throughout the chamber. Smiling wickedly, Hermione placed one slim finger on the bracer, traced her finger along the engraved `I must not tell lies', and pitched her voice so that everyone in the chamber could hear. The bracer flared with a blinding blue light as she concluded.

“Bitch.”

****

A/N - The blue glow of truth from the bracer is in tribute to H. Beam Piper's Veridicator from his stories, especially `Little Fuzzy' and its companion tales. Well worth reading if you can pick up a copy.

* Hermione and the boys are considered provisional graduates due to the disruption of their seventh year. A test was administered, giving those that chose not to return, provisional status, and they are required to take their NEWT's within two years. Ginny, on the other hand, falls under the aegis of the “Quidditch Exemption” where seventh year students, recruited by one of the professional teams during their final year, are released from school, except for Quidditch, to begin training with their team beginning in the spring. The teams have put programs in place to ensure that the recruits finish their studies and take their NEWTs within two years of their original graduation date.

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