The Source of Magic

The Witch from Hell

Chapter 11 ~ The Witch from Hell

Jason decided he had enjoyed Voldemort's hospitality long enough. He spent the afternoon exploring the castle in his invisible, dematerialised form. There was no one within several minutes walk of his dungeon, and the castle wards prevented Apparation. So, by checking his magical mental map every few minutes, he was safe from being discovered AWOL. He decided to wait until dark before making his escape as it offered the greatest scope for diversion and confusion. He could, of course, simply dematerialise away, as the wards and other magical protections would not stop him. But he was determined to make a credible pretence of escaping as Ginny Weasley — he had to remember to use both wand and incantation. He did not want Voldemort to suspect that his prisoner was anyone other than Ginny, such as Harry Potter or some other witch or wizard with unknown powers impersonating her. Plus, it would make things nice and sticky for Bellatrix and the Malfoys — who their Master was bound to blame.

Jason did not know how many Death Eaters he would have to battle his way past; there were at least two dozen in the castle. He planned to dodge their curses and hit them with some obscure Confundus Charms. But just in case he became seriously outnumbered, he cast a Boomerang Shield. There were also dozens of Dementors, but they were guarding the outer walls. Obviously Voldemort and the other occupants of the castle preferred to keep them and their chilling effects at a good distance.

Jason conjured himself something that looked like Ginny's wand. Voldemort would be most displeased with Lucius and Bellatrix when he learned they had not, in fact, disarmed her. “Lumos,” he said, lighting the wand before blasting the iron door of the cell off its hinges and charging along the clammy passageway. He blasted another heavy iron door at the end of the passage to gain access to the stairs and ran up several flights before stopping to cast a magical mental map. Damn it! The breakout had already been detected! There was a Death Eater two flights above him, heading his way. Jason climbed another flight of steps and then stopped and waited.

The moment the Death Eater appeared, he hit him with a Confundus Charm that played havoc with his sense of balance. The Death Eater screamed in terror, trying desperately to grasp hold of the wall to stop himself falling down the stairs, as Jason dashed past. The next Death Eater surprised him and managed to get off a curse, which Jason dodged before hitting him with the same Confundus Charm, which seemed ideal for stairway combat. The door at the top of the stairs had been left open by the descending Death Eaters. Jason checked his magical mental map again … sure enough, there were three Death Eaters waiting for him — all, no doubt, with their wands trained on the same point at the top of the stairs. Jason used a leaping spell to come shooting out at speed from the stairs twenty feet above the point they were aiming at. Touching down behind them, he hit them with an assortment of Confundus Charms before they could turn their wands on him.

Fenrir Greyback was hit by an inversion charm, which made him feel like he was hanging upside down. He whimpered with fear, dropping his wand — it was a long way down to the ceiling. Rabastan Lestrange got the Boggart hex, which caused him to hallucinate and imagine that the thing he feared most was right in front of him. No one else could see it, but it must have been truly terrifying; he screamed and ran with his hands over his eyes, eventually running headlong into a stone wall and knocking himself out. Bellatrix Lestrange got the Mirror Charm, which transposes one's left and right in a way that is not apparent to the victim.

Bellatrix cackled madly, thinking Ginny's curse had missed her. She would have loved to use the Killing Curse, but she knew her Master would be furious if she killed his little hostage. So instead she aimed her wand at Ginny, shouting “Crucio!” However, the terrible scream it produced did not come from Ginny, but from Fenrir Greyback, at whom her wand was actually pointing.

Jason ran towards the castle entrance. Bellatrix attempted to chase him, but, because of the Mirror Charm, she ran in the opposite direction and crashed headlong down the stone stairs that led to the dungeons, screaming all the way. Nearing the main entrance, Jason spotted five Death Eaters approaching fast, from a side corridor; they must have come from another part of the castle. He waved his wand at the corridor roof in front of them, bringing it crashing down in an enormous cloud of dust, and shaking the floor. When the dust cleared the corridor was sealing off by a huge pile of rubble, leaving the Death Eaters trapped behind it. Quickly casting a magical map, Jason spied two more Death Eaters hidden behind suits of armour near the entrance, waiting to jump out and hex him. A quick Altercation Hex made them forgot all about Jason and start laying into each other instead. Blasting the heavy door off its hinges, Jason raced outside, hexes and curses flying all around him. Turning back to the castle he saw another seven Death Eaters within, sprinting in hot pursuit towards the entrance. They were too far back to aim accurately, but one of them got lucky and hit Jason — or at least his Boomerang Shield. He fell to the castle floor stunned by his own rebounding hex. Jason cast an Inferno Charm in the castle entrance where the door had been. That would stop them getting out — plus keep them busy. The castle was built of stone but there was plenty of woodwork around the doorway to catch fire.

As Jason raced down the cobblestone driveway, several Death Eaters launched themselves from the castle parapet on brooms. Flicking his wand in their general direction, he set the ends of their brooms on fire, forcing them to make a mad dash back to the high parapet before the flames reached their backsides. Jason kept running as fast as he could towards the wall that enclosed the estate. As he neared it, dozens of Dementors swooped towards him. Thinking of Lily, he cast the Angelus Charm. A large flock of angels erupted from his wand and began devouring them. Jason was tempted to blast the gigantic wooden gate in the castle wall to bits, but he decided it might be a bit over the top. So he contented himself with blasting open the small door within it. He stepped through and dematerialised, leaving Voldemort's castle in complete chaos. The Dark Lord would be in a very dark mood tonight.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

When Jason finished recounting his adventures, the four teenagers looked somewhat stunned. Predictably, Hermione was the first to speak. “I don't think Voldemort will be in a hurry to take Ginny hostage again,” she said, laughing. “But do you think he'll really believe it was her — after what you did to his Death Eaters and his castle?”

“He might have his suspicions, but who else would he think it was?” asked Jason. “There are no obvious candidates — unless he believes Dumbledore has risen from the grave. He knows nothing about me or of Harry's growing power. There is no reason to add a further mystery of how some unknown witch or wizard could have impersonated Ginny.”

“The impersonator could have had Polyjuice potion hidden on them and kept taking sips like Barty Crouch junior when he impersonated Mad-Eye Moody all year,” said Ron.

“No, Bellatrix gave me a proper frisking, both physically and magically; I couldn't have had anything concealed on me. Plus, they have no reason to think the abduction was anticipated, which makes it totally implausible that Ginny was being impersonated at the time she was snatched. Certainly they will be astounded by her escape, but they have no reason to suspect their hostage was anyone other than Ginny Weasley. Sorry, Ginny, but I think I may have earned you the title of the Witch from Hell with Voldemort and his Death Eaters.”

“If only they knew!” said Harry, laughing and giving Ginny a cheeky look.

“Watch it, Potter! Or I'll really give you hell,” she said with a grin.

“Apart from developing a healthy respect for Miss Weasley here, Voldemort will have attributed her escape to the complete and utter incompetence of his Death Eaters; who, I imagine, have all been on the receiving end of the Cruciatus Curse tonight. The Malfoys had left the castle long before I escaped, but I imagine they will have been recalled to endure their Master's displeasure and explain why they brought the Witch from Hell to destroy his castle and failed to warn him of her fearsome abilities — not to mention why she still had her wand after supposedly being searched by both themselves and Bellatrix Lestrange. Yes, I fear Lucius, Draco, and Bellatrix are all in for a bad night,” he added in mock regret.

“So, did you find out about the Horcruxes?” asked Hermione. “I assume that was why you were so keen on impersonating Ginny.”

“Yes, I had ample opportunity to find out about them — at least as much as Voldemort knows, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” asked Harry. “He must know everything, right?”

“Unfortunately, not. To start with, he does not know that Slytherin's locket was removed from the cave and a substitute left in its place.”

“Then there's no hope of finding it,” said Harry. “We just have to hope that it's been destroyed. But we'll never know for sure. Even if we destroy the other two Horcruxes and kill Voldemort there's no way of knowing if he's really finished — or whether he'll come back again.

“Actually, we will know if he's really finished,” said Hermione. “When Voldemort tried to kill you as a baby, Harry, and was struck by his rebounding Killing Curse, his body disappeared and was never found. All that was left was his wand, which later fell into the hands of his supporters, and some singed grass, suggesting a fiery and spectacular departure. There are several books that speculate about the mystery. The nature of his mystifying demise led several pundits to guess that he had used some unknown magic to make himself immortal — of course they knew nothing about the Horcruxes.”

“So, if all the Horcruxes have been destroyed when he's killed,” said Ron, “his dead body will be left behind, just like when anyone else dies. But, if there is even one Horcrux left, his body will disappear in a flash of light, like the last time ... and he'll come back again.”

“Yes, and it won't take him very long next time, now that he knows how to do it,” said Hermione. “He's probably prepared instructions for his Death Eaters on how to find him and create a new body.”

“We can't wait till the end to find out if the Horcrux in Slytherin's locket has been destroyed,” said Harry. “Because if it hasn't, it will be too late — if only there was some way of knowing.”

“There isn't,” said Jason. “My gut feeling is that it hasn't been destroyed, and I think we need to proceed on that premise.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Hermione.

“Harry, you will appreciate the painstaking effort that went into creating the elaborate magic protecting the locket in the cave. Voldemort would not have wasted his own time in creating something that elaborate — and he didn't; he instructed one of his minions to do it. Of course, Voldemort did not tell his servant the locket contained his Horcrux. He planned to kill him once the task in the cave was complete — so that the secret of the locket in the cave would die with him. All of this, I learned from Voldemort's mind, but what follows is pure conjecture:

“Given the great effort Voldemort was taking to protect the locket, this person must have realised it was something very important, and he probably became extremely curious about it. From the note he left for Voldemort in the fake locket, it would seem he somehow learned, or guessed, that it contained his Master's Horcrux. The note implies he suspected Voldemort intended to kill him to protect his secret. Harry will be aware of how tremendously difficult it would have been for anyone to have made it through all of those protections to replace the genuine locket with a fake one.”

“And no one ever did!” said Hermione, excitedly. “His servant put the fake locket, in the stone basin in the cave instead of Slytherin's locket – which he kept. But, you must have found out from Voldemort who it was?”

“Yes, I did: Regulus Alphard Black — Sirius' younger brother.”

“R.A.B.,” said Harry. “That's how the message in the fake locket was signed. Lupin thought Voldemort killed Regulus — or had him killed — because he wanted to get out of the Death Eaters. But it wasn't that at all; he was killed to keep Slytherin's locket, and the cave where it was hidden, a secret.”

“He might have destroyed the Horcrux first,” suggested Ron hopefully. “He said he was going to in the note he left in the fake locket.”

“I have checked the few references to Horcruxes that exist in the ancient texts,” replied Jason, “and while some of them contain hints regarding the process of creating a Horcrux, there are no clues about how to destroy one — or even the suggestion that it's possible. A great wizard, like Dumbledore, may have been able to discover it, but it probably took him quite some time. I cheated through my connection to the Source and having witnessed the exorcism of spirits amongst some obscure tribes in Africa. I doubt very much that Regulus Black discovered how to do it in the short time he had left to live. So we must assume that the Horcrux still exists … somewhere.”

“Maybe he hid it in his parents' house,” mused Hermione. “I suppose he was still living there.”

“You mean number twelve, Grimmauld Place?” asked Harry.

Hermione nodded, and they all fell silent for a while.

“What does this locket look like? Does anyone know?” asked Ginny.

“I saw it in Dumbledore's Pensieve,” replied Harry. “It's a heavy golden locket. It's got the letter ‘S' on it. It's actually —”

“A snake, in the shape of an ‘S'!” cried Ginny. I've seen it — we've all seen it!”

“What? When?” asked Harry.

“At Grimmauld Place, when Mum made us clean out all the glass-fronted cabinets in the drawing-room. A lot of the stuff was really nasty, like that silver snuffbox that bit Sirius, and was thrown out.”

“Except that Fred and George kept nicking things like that from Sirius' sack,” recalled Hermione.

“If Kreacher didn't get them first and smuggle them out under his loincloth,” sniggered Ron.

“But there was nothing nasty about the locket,” said Ginny. “And it didn't bear the Black family crest or anything like that, which would make Sirius want to biff it — or Kreacher to nick it. Neither would have known that it was an ancient relic of Salazar Slytherin. I'm pretty sure it got put back in one of the cabinets along with the other stuff that wasn't thrown out.”

“Which means it will still be there, right?” said Ron.

“Wrong,” said Harry. “Remember how I caught Mundungus Fletcher in Hogsmeade with an old suitcase full of stuff he'd stolen from Grimmauld Place? He was flogging it all off. That gold locket would be worth quite a bit, even if you didn't know it was an ancient relic. I bet he nicked it and flogged it off. It could be anywhere by now.”

“I'm going up shortly to talk to Professor McGonagall,” said Jason. “She needs to know about the abduction attempt. I'll tell her everything. I'll also ask her if someone from the Order can search Grimmauld Place for Slytherin's locket, just in case it's still there. If it's not, she may know Mundungus' whereabouts. I've got a few things I need to do — people to catch up with and so on. It seems I might be adding Mundungus to my list. I'll be away tomorrow afternoon and evening. Hermione, I was hoping you might agree to take my third-year Potions class. It's the only thing I have on Monday afternoons; it's straight after lunch.”

Hermione blushed. “I have a free period, but I'm not sure how well I'd manage,” she said nervously.

“Perfectly,” said Jason encouragingly. “It will be Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and the lesson plan is all prepared. They will be brewing a Cheering Concoction, nothing too difficult,” he said reassuringly.

Hermione smiled; she felt apprehensive. She had seriously thought about teaching as a profession. This would be a chance to see what it was like.

“What about the other two Horcruxes?” asked Harry, keen to get back to the main game. “Professor Dumbledore thought Voldemort might have used his snake, Nagini, for one.”

“Yes, I remember you telling me that. He thought it might explain the high degree of control Voldemort has over the snake. And I had this wonderful plan of waiting until everyone in the castle was asleep, materialising to wherever Nagini was hanging out, transfiguring her into a cute little Pygmy Puff, and popping her in my pocket and bringing her back here to Hogwarts for another exorcism ritual. But, as Dumbledore told you, it is rather risky concealing a Horcrux in a living thing, and Voldemort, it seems, came to the same conclusion. In fact, with each successive Horcrux, he became more cautious and more paranoid, and consequently, made them increasingly difficult to get at.”

“More difficult than burying them in a time capsule set in the concrete foundations a hundred feet beneath a skyscraper?” asked Hermione.

“Yes, much more difficult, but perhaps we can leave it for another time. Before I tell you about the final two Horcruxes I need to do a little research. Hopefully, I might manage to do that tomorrow. I don't know about you lot, but I'm utterly shagged. I've had quite a day. Harry, you should get that message from Voldemort as soon as you return to Gryffindor Tower; it was sent off well before my escape. The only reason you haven't received it yet is because owls don't come down here. Please keep the message somewhere safe.”

“Why?” asked Harry.

“Just in case,” replied Jason in that vague, annoying way of his.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Their last lesson on Monday afternoon was Transfiguration with Tonks. Today they were attempting to transfigure their desks into dachshunds. Harry and Hermione had very quickly mastered it, and Tonks had them transfiguring their dogs into dormice. Harry had just succeeded when a nervous first-year student knocked on the door with a note for him from the Headmistress. It asked him to bring the message from Voldemort up to her office immediately. Tonks excused him, and he dashed off to his dormitory to get it.

When he arrived at the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmistress' office, Harry realised he didn't know the password; obviously it was not going to be lemon drop or anything like that. While Harry was wondering what to do, the gargoyle jumped aside and the stone wall split in two, allowing him to step through and onto the revolving stone stairway. When he reached the top, the door to the office opened to reveal an unexpected scene. Professor McGonagall's desk had been elongated. Sitting behind it on one side of her were three ancient-looking witches; three equally ancient-looking wizards, their long white beards brushing the desktop, sat on her other side. In front of them, sitting at one end of a small, rectangular table, was Professor Flitwick, the diminutive Deputy Headmaster. In front of the table were two long wooden benches. Harry noticed Ginny sitting alone on the back one.

“Please be seated, Potter. Everything will be explained,” said Professor McGonagall, motioning for him to join Ginny.

Before Harry could ask Ginny what it was all about, Professor McGonagall waved her wand at the door, which opened to admit Percy Weasley, followed closely by twelve Aurors. He looked around the office, clearly confused. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

“Please, be seated Mr Weasley,” she replied, indicating a chair at the opposite end of the rectangular table from Professor Flitwick. “Your protection squad may sit on the front bench,” she said.

“I demand to know what is going on here,” he protested pompously. “I informed you by official Ministry owl, that I was coming to arrest Miss Ginevra Weasley. What is the meaning of this?”

“Sit down, Weasley,” she said sternly, reverting to her austere school mistress tone, “and all will be revealed.” Reluctantly, Percy took the seat opposite Flitwick and motioned to his Aurors to be seated.

“Upon receiving your owl, I consulted the regulations pertaining to the arrest of a Hogwarts student. As you may imagine, such instances are rare indeed. In fact, I cannot recall it ever happening in all my forty years as a teacher at this school. The regulations stipulate that in the case of an underage student — one who has not yet attained the age of seventeen years — a certain procedure must be observed before this school, into whose care the student has been entrusted, can allow the student to be placed in the custody of any other person or agency.”

“Yes, yes, this is all very well,” snapped Percy impatiently, “but this does not apply to the Ministry of Magic, which has jurisdiction —”

“But indeed it does apply to the Ministry of Magic. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the charter containing these regulations predate the existence of the Ministry of Magic by several centuries. As Headmistress of this school, I am bound by these regulations … they must be observed. I would have thought that you, of all people, Mr Weasley, would appreciate the importance and primacy of rules and regulations,” she added with thinly veiled sarcasm.

“Very well, then. But hurry up and get on with it, I haven't got all day. What is this procedure?”

“Simply this: If the student is underage — as Miss Weasley is; and if he or she does not wish to be handed over to a third party — which she does not; and if her parents or legal guardians do not wish her to be handed over — which they do not; then that party must satisfy a tribunal made up of a quorum of Hogwarts governors that a prima facie case exists against the student.”

“But, this is preposterous,” spluttered Percy. “Why should I have to convince anyone of anything? The Ministry of Magic has the right —”

“Have you not been listening to the Headmistress?” demanded a grumpy old wizard sitting next to McGonagall. “You do not have that right! “You have to convince us that she's done something to warrant her arrest. You cannot simply come waltzing into this school and haul its students off to Azkaban willy-nilly —”

“Or hand them over to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named for a big bag of gold,” cut in a suspicious-looking old witch.

“I refuse to listen to the Ministry of Magic being so outrageously maligned, I —”

“Then do something about it!” demanded another old witch. “Stop behaving like a public relations agency for You-Know-Who!”

“Now, see here —”

Headmistress McGonagall banged a heavy wooden gavel on her desk. “Silence! I hereby call this tribunal to order. Professor Flitwick will act as scribe to the tribunal and record the proceedings.”

“What? Is this going to be recorded?” asked Percy, nervously.

“Oh yes, indeed,” replied McGonagall, smiling. “The regulations quite clearly stipulate that the proceedings of all extraordinary tribunals, such as this, must be faithfully recorded and archived as part of the Hogwarts school records. Since such tribunals are so rare, it may be assumed that today's proceedings will be of some interest to future generations of scholars and historians. You may even be fortunate enough to earn yourself a place in Hogwarts, a History,” Mr Weasley. “Let us hope it is not an ignominious one. Now please proceed and state the charges against the student.”

“W-What charges?” blurted out Percy, clearly unnerved.

The witches and wizards of the tribunal looked at him dumbfounded. “Do you mean to tell us that you have come to this school to arrest a student without knowing the charges against them?” asked an astonished Professor McGonagall.

“Well, err … yes, of course I know … err, a complaint was laid against her by….”

“Go on, Weasley, who laid this complaint?”

“I am not at liberty to divulge the name of the complainant,” blustered Percy.

“In that case, I am not at liberty to hand over Miss Weasley,” replied McGonagall coolly.

Percy remained silent for some time, desperately trying to decide what to do. There would be hell to pay if he returned without her. All eyes were on him. “The complaint came from a member of one of our pre-eminent Wizarding families: a Mr Lucius Malfoy,” he finally said, looking away from the tribunal, which snorted at hearing the name.

“Lucius Malfoy?” demanded McGonagall incredulously. “Lucius Malfoy the Death Eater? Lucius Malfoy who was convicted of breaking into the Ministry of Magic a little over a year ago and sent to Azkaban?”

“Now, see here,” protested Percy, bristling. “Mr Malfoy has been pardoned by the Minister of Magic, himself; you may not go around impugning his name and calling him a criminal.”

“As I recall,” said one of the witches, “that coward Fudge released Malfoy along with all the other Death Eaters in Azkaban as a good will gesture to You-Know-Who — and a pile of gold, no doubt. Letting them out of prison does not overturn their original convictions; Fudge does not have the authority to do that. So they are all still convicted criminals — Malfoy included.”

“Yes, well … err, Ministry policy —”

McGonagall banged her gavel again. “Silence! You do not need to defend the Ministry to this tribunal, Weasley — that would take too long — and it is clearly indefensible. Please proceed to state Mr Malfoy's complaint against this student — if indeed you know what it is.”

“Of course I know!” said Percy. “In fact, there are several complaints. Firstly, she is accused of using an Unforgivable Curse; secondly, of destroying several dozen valuable creatures; and thirdly, of causing serious and wilful damage to a castle.” Percy looking around and smiled smugly.

“Well, go on, Weasley, give us the details,” snapped McGonagall. “What was the Unforgivable Curse, when and where was it used, and against whom?”

“It was the Cruciatus Curse,” replied Percy. “It was used yesterday, against, err, Mr Fenrir Greyback.”

“Fenrir Greyback — the Death Eater werewolf — who broke into this school?” asked McGonagall coldly. “Who attacked Hogwarts staff and students — and almost killed your brother William Weasley?”

“Err … I know nothing about those particular allegations, and anyway an Unforgivable Curse is an Unforgivable Curse, regardless of who it is directed against.”

“You have not yet told us where the offence took place.”

“Err, it was in a castle.”

“Whose castle?” demanded McGonagall.

“You-Know-Who's,” replied Percy.

“And where exactly is this castle?”

“How should I know!” snapped Percy. “You know perfectly well that no one knows where it is!”

“Yes, I do,” replied McGonagall. “Miss Weasley, how do you plead?”

“Innocent,” said Ginny, rising briefly.

“Please come forward and pass me your wand, Miss Weasley,” she said, taking it from her and looking at Percy. “Are any of your Aurors proficient in the spells used to identify a wand's owner and to determine whether it has been used for an Unforgivable Curse, Mr Weasley?”

“Yes, off course,” said Percy suspiciously.

McGonagall looked enquiringly at the Aurors; one of them stood up to indicate that he knew the spells. “Please test it,” she said, handing him the wand.

He touched his wand to Ginny's and uttered several incantations before handing the wand back to the Headmistress. “The wand belongs to Miss Ginevra Weasley, and it has never been used for the Cruciatus or any other Unforgivable Curse,” he said, shrugging his shoulders when Percy turned to glare at him.

“It seems that Mr Malfoy may have misinformed you,” said McGonagall, mockingly.

“Nonsense, I have a signed statement from Mr Greyback that he was the victim of a Cruciatus Curse yesterday!” said Percy.

“A wizard whose word is his bond, no doubt,” said McGonagall, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Have you anything further to say in your defence, Miss Weasley?”

“Yes, Headmistress. It is true that Fenrir Greyback was the victim of a Cruciatus Curse yesterday, but it was not my curse. It was Bellatrix Lestrange who cast it.”

“Lies and nonsense!” cried Percy, jumping to his feet. “Mrs Lestrange is … err, an associate of the victim. Why on earth would she curse him?”

“A very good question,” replied McGonagall. “And fortunately, one with which this tribunal need not concern itself. Simply repeat the test on Mrs Lestrange's wand, and you will have your answer.”

“Impossible!” said Percy.

“Impossible?” asked McGonagall innocently. “A very serious allegation has been made to this tribunal — and recorded by its scribe. If Mrs Lestrange did, in fact, use an Unforgivable Curse, it would earn her a life sentence in Azkaban. Are you saying the Ministry of Magic will not be pursuing the matter?

“No, it will not!” snapped Percy. “We do not have the resources to pursue every wild accusation —”

“Yet you do have the resources to pursue the accusations of a convicted criminal against a sixteen-year-old student — your own sister, in fact — how remarkable, Mr Weasley!”

“I must insist that you stop calling Mr Malfoy a convicted criminal. I demand that you remove all such references from the official transcript. And I absolutely insist that you remove the accusation against Mrs Lestrange from the transcript, as well.”

“Unfortunately, that will not be possible, Mr Weasley. You see, it constitutes part of Miss Weasley's defence against the charge you have levelled against her. It could only be removed from the tribunal transcript if the charge were dropped,” said the Headmistress, staring down at him over her glasses, with her eyebrows raised questioningly.

Percy sat down again and umm-ed and ah-ed for a while before replying angrily, “The charge of using an Unforgivable Curse is withdrawn — but not the other two charges. They still stand!”

“The second charge, as I recall, is that Miss Weasley destroyed several dozen valuable creatures. What kind of creatures were they, Mr Weasley?”

“Err … Dementors.”

“Dementors?”

“Yes, Dementors!”

“Which were where, exactly?”

“Err … at the castle.”

“You-Know-Who's castle?”

“Yes.”

“And what were they doing there?”

“I don't know! Guarding it, I suppose.”

“Yes, but why were they there, at his castle?”

“I don't see the point of your question,” replied Percy warily.

“Well, as I understand it, the Dementors belong to the Ministry of Magic and were used to guard Azkaban. But about a year ago, they were stolen, kidnapped, spirited away from the prison.”

“What has that got to do with the matter?” asked Percy weakly.

“Let me be clear on this, Mr Weasley. Do you wish to state, on the official transcript of this tribunal, that He-Who-Must-Be-Named was responsible for the theft of valuable Ministry servants; and, that furthermore, he now has them in his possession? Do you wish the scribe of this tribunal to record your accusation of theft and the possession of stolen Ministry property against You-Know-Who?”

“No!” blurted Percy, holding his head in his hands.

“Then you wish to drop the second charge also?” asked McGonagall innocently.

“Yes, yes! Drop it, drop it!”

“Very good,” replied McGonagall, “and the third charge, about damaging the castle?”

“The third charge stands!” said Percy angrily.

“You stated earlier, Mr Weasley, that the location of this castle, which sustained the damage, is unknown. It is, in fact, the hideout of You-Know-Who and his gang. Presumably it is unplottable and subject to all manner of enchantments and protections.”

“It may well be, but what of it?” demanded Percy. “That makes it no less an offence to damage it!”

“Quite so,” agreed McGonagall. “But it must be assumed that it is only possible to reach this castle at the express wish and with the assistance of its owner or his minions.”

“I do not see the relevance of this,” said Percy apprehensively.

“How could Miss Weasley have possibly found this castle and entered it in order to damage it?” asked McGonagall.

“I have no idea — it's completely immaterial.”

“On the contrary, it is very material,” she replied. “You see, Miss Weasley claims she did not go to You-Know-Who's castle with the intention of causing wilful damage. In fact, she did not go to the castle willingly, at all. She claims she was stunned and kidnapped from the Hogwarts Quidditch changing rooms yesterday by Miss Pansy Parkinson. Miss Parkinson then took her to the school gates, concealed beneath an Invisibility Cloak, where she was handed over to Mr Draco Malfoy. He took her to Malfoy Manor where she was briefly imprisoned before being taken by him and his father, Mr Lucius Malfoy, to the castle in question. There, she was imprisoned by You-Know-Who, in order to lure Harry Potter to his death. Fortunately, she was able to escape, and in so doing caused some collateral damage to the castle — but it was not wilful. I think you will find, if you consult the relevant Ministry laws, that it is the right of every witch and wizard to escape illegal detention, and no blame may be attached to any unintentional damage caused in the attempt. I should mention that the so-called valuable creatures — the Dementors — endeavoured to prevent her escaping and consequently perished.

There were cries of “bravo” and “well done, young lady” from the portraits of the previous Hogwarts Headmasters and Headmistresses who had been keenly observing the proceedings from their pictures on the walls. The members of the tribunal would have joined in the cheering with equal enthusiasm had the tribunal not been in session.

“Lies, she is lying!” screamed Percy over the congratulations. “It is all unsubstantiated lies!”

“Ah, but it is not,” said Professor McGonagall with a smug smile. “It is not at all unsubstantiated. I had Miss Parkinson's trunk searched yesterday night. These two Invisibility cloaks, used in the abduction, were found,” she said, holding them up. “We also found this message from Mr Draco Malfoy, instructing Miss Parkinson on exactly what she was required to do. Interestingly, it included an instruction for her to destroy the message; however, it seems that Miss Parkinson's fondness for Mr Malfoy prevented her from doing so. Professor Flitwick, please record the contents of Mr Malfoy's message. Miss Parkinson has, of course, been suspended from Hogwarts pending a hearing of the board of governors.”

“Even if this absurd fabrication against Miss Parkinson were true, and Miss Weasley was abducted from Hogwarts, as she pretends, it does not constitute proof that she was ever at Malfoy Manor or taken to the castle against her will,” said Percy defiantly.

“I can see you would like further proof, Mr Weasley, and you shall have it,” said McGonagall, smiling ominously. “While imprisoned at Malfoy Manor, Miss Weasley heard several things that will be of great interest to the Ministry.”

“All lies, no doubt,” insisted Percy.

“Fortunately, there is at least once piece of information that can be very easily verified,” said McGonagall.

“How?” demanded Percy.

“I believe Ministry Aurors have the authority to demand to see Gringotts financial records. Is that correct?”

“Yes, of course,” replied Percy. “But what on earth can that have to do with the matter-at-hand?”

“Miss Weasley has made a sworn statement, which I have given to the tribunal scribe to record, in which she states that while imprisoned at Malfoy Manor she heard Mr Lucius Malfoy inform his son, Draco, of a standing order for a vault-to-vault transfer of ten thousand galleons on the first of every month, from his own vault to that of one Cornelius Fudge.”

There was an uproar; cries of “shame”, “corruption”, and “scandal”, came from the witches and wizards of the tribunal along with the portraits of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses. Even Percy seemed stunned at the magnitude of the bribe — clearly he knew nothing about it. But like a good little minion, he defended his boss vigorously. “Lies, all lies!” he screamed.

“There is no need to yell and scream like a petulant child, Weasley,” chided McGonagall. “The truth of the allegation can be easily determined: dispatch one of your Aurors to Gringotts, immediately. They can be back in ten minutes — the tribunal will be happy to wait — and give you the opportunity to clear Fudge's name.”

“No! Err … they can't be spared. I need them here for my personal protection. I deny this preposterous accusation. It is too absurd to warrant the trouble of proving it false,” he blustered.

“I see,” said McGonagall scornfully. “Well then, let us turn to the final piece of evidence in Miss Weasley's defence that she was, in fact, escaping captivity. It is a note from You-Know-Who. Potter, please hand it to me. Thank you. I shall read it to the tribunal:

“Harry Potter,

I am holding Ginny Weasley captive. The price of her freedom is yourself.

I swear a binding Wizard's Oath that she will be released, unharmed, if you come to me immediately and alone.

This evening, go to the Hog's Head and ask the bartender for a package bearing the initials GLV. Inside you will find a Portkey to bring you to me.

Affixed to this parchment you will find a lock of her hair — as proof that I have her. If you do not come to save her, you will receive another message tomorrow — along with one of her fingers, the next day a hand, then a foot, and so on. Come quickly, while there is still something left to rescue.

Lord Voldemort.”

Mr Weasley, I believe it is a simple matter to verify the validity of the handwriting and the signature; any one of your Aurors can do that for the tribunal, no doubt. When will you be pressing charges against You-Know-Who for the abduction and kidnapping of a minor?”

“Don't be ridiculous!” screamed Percy. “You know very well the Minister of Magic has initiated a policy of … err, détente. I absolutely insist that all charges relating to You-Know-Who — and Lucius Malfoy — and references to transfers between Gringotts vaults, be deleted from the transcript.”

This was greeted by jeers of derision from both the tribunal and the former Headmasters and Headmistresses along with cries of “shame!” and “cowardly cur!”

“So you wish to drop the third and final charge, also?” inquired Professor McGonagall, smiling sweetly.

“Yes!” spat Percy in frustration.

The old wizard on McGonagall's right, rose slowly to his feet. “This tribunal finds that Miss Ginevra Weasley has no case to answer and will not be handed over to the Ministry of Magic.”

“I declare this tribunal closed,” said Professor McGonagall, banging her gavel.

Percy didn't know what to do. Malfoy would be furious if he returned empty-handed. He turned and whispered to the Aurors. They jumped to their feet, drawing their wands. “Blast anyone who goes for their wand,” ordered Percy. “I will not have the Ministry of Magic made a mockery of,” he said. Then pointing his wand at Ginny, he said, “Incarcerous. You're coming with us. Everyone stay still, or you'll be stunned and arrested.” Thick ropes now bound Ginny's hands and feet.

“Shame, criminals, thugs!” yelled the members of the tribunal and the former Headmasters and Headmistresses from their portraits. Suddenly, there was the smell of smoke, and Percy and his Aurors hastily dropped their wands, which had unaccountably burst into flames. Percy looked accusingly around the room, but no one had moved or drawn a wand — at least not until then.

McGonagall pointed her wand at Ginny. “Finite Incantatum,” she said, freeing her from the ropes. Then pointing it menacingly at Percy, she said, “You had better go now, Weasley, along with your Aurors. Do not bother to request admittance to this school again, either for yourself, your Aurors or any other member of the current corrupt administration — it will not be granted. Now get out!” They hurried, humiliated and defeated, from the Headmistress' office.

Professor McGonagall returned Ginny's wand to her with a warm smile and dismissed her, along Harry.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs Ginny turned to Harry. “You know, there's absolutely no point in pretending we're not together anymore. Voldemort knows we're an item — so maybe we should start acting like one.” She threw her arms around Harry and hugged him. “I was so afraid up there that my horrible brother Percy was going to drag me away from Hogwarts and hand me over to Malfoy — knowing full-well he'd give me to Voldemort and it would be the end of me — or worse. How could he do that to his own sister?”

“Because he's a heartless git who'll do whatever it takes to advance his career, including sacrificing his whole family, if he has to,” said Harry angrily. “But don't worry, Ginny. One day I'll get even with him for what he tried to do to you.”

“Oh, no you won't,” said Ginny defiantly. “That pleasure will be all mine! One day when he doesn't have his Aurors or his office to hide behind, he's going to get the Bat-Bogie Hex from Hell. If you want to curse the git, you're going to have to stand in line behind me and all my brothers. But Harry, what happened up there in McGonagall's office when Percy and his Aurors pulled their wands? Was Jason up there invisibly or something? I thought he was supposed to be away from Hogwarts.”

“He is,” replied Harry.

Ginny stopped and looked Harry in the eye. “It was you who saved me. You incinerated their wands without even using your own — didn't you?”

Harry smiled.

That's pretty bloody amazing, Mr Potter! Wow, I didn't realise how powerful you'd become.”

“Yeah, well, Jason and Lupin told me to keep my powers hidden. Obviously McGonagall will guess it was me, but every one else will think it was McGonagall or Flitwick or maybe the tribunal members — they could have been using their wands under the table.”

“I think we need to take a detour on the way to the Great Hall,” said Ginny, putting her arm around Harry. “We've got plenty of time till tea … I need to give you a proper thank you for saving me.”