A Past Reclaimed by nuw255
Chapter Notes: The moment you’ve all been waiting for: Dolores Umbridge’s trial before the Wizengamot. Will Harry be pleased with the outcome? Will you? Only time will tell....
Dolores Umbridge’s trial was to be held in a large, rectangular courtroom, deep within the bowels of the Ministry of Magic. As Harry sat quietly next to Dumbledore in a sea of adult witches and wizards, his eyes were drawn anxiously to the straight-backed chair in the center of the room, far below the rows of stone benches where he and the others were seated. Chains encircled the chair’s arms, and he shivered at the realization that the people who usually sat in it were dangerous criminals.
As this thought entered his mind, he leaned toward Dumbledore and whispered, “If Fudge wants to get Umbridge off, why did he decide to hold her trial here? I mean, anybody who sits in that chair down there is going to look guilty.”
Dumbledore smiled benignly at him. “You may not remember it, Harry, but you yourself sat in that very chair just over two years ago, and you were still acquitted. But that is not Minister Fudge’s reason for holding the trial in this room. He does want his Senior Undersecretary cleared, that is certain, but he will not risk his own career in order to save hers. He scheduled the trial for this particular courtroom in an attempt to appear impartial.”
Dumbledore fell silent, leaving Harry to process this information. His friends had told him that he had been put on trial for using magic outside of school the summer before his fifth year, but he had never imagined that it had been in this sort of environment. He glanced again at the chains on the arms of that chair, and shivered slightly as he wondered if he had been bound during his trial. Shaking himself out of these thoughts, he decided to try and catch a few snippets of the whispered conversations going on all around him.
No sooner had he made this determination, however, than all conversation came to an abrupt halt as a door in the far corner of the room swung open and a squat, toad-like witch in a garish pink cardigan strode confidently toward the chair. She sat down stiffly, and smiled up at the gathering. The chains remained limp.
In the sudden silence, a woman’s voice rang out from somewhere to Harry’s left. “Dolores Jane Umbridge, you have been charged with kidnapping, illegally performing a Memory Charm, illegally performing a Fidelius Charm, use of a Blood Quill on a minor, unauthorized and improper use of two Azkaban Dementors, and attempted use of an Unforgivable Curse on a fellow human being. How do you plead?”
Umbridge gave a simpering little laugh. “Madam Bones,” she said in the same sickly-sweet voice that Harry remembered from his aunt’s memory, “I’m afraid this is all just a big misunderstanding.”
“Quite so!” interrupted a man’s voice. “This entire proceeding is a preposterous waste of all our time. I move to dismiss these ridiculous charges at once.”
Dumbledore calmly got to his feet as Harry began nervously fiddling with his locket through the front of his robes. He had begun thinking of it as a sort of good luck charm, and if he had ever needed luck in his life, he needed it tonight.
“Cornelius,” Dumbledore began very slowly and clearly, “I feel it my duty to remind you that, although you are Minister of Magic, I am the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and no charges can be dropped without my approval. Proceed, Madam Bones.” He returned to his seat.
Madam Bones cleared her throat and asked again, “How do you plead?”
“Not guilty, of course,” simpered Umbridge.
“Then we will begin with the evidence against you,” Madam Bones replied. “Chief Warlock Dumbledore, the floor is yours.”
“Thank you, Amelia,” Dumbledore said as he got to his feet. “We shall begin with the charges of kidnapping, and illegally performing a Memory Charm and a Fidelius Charm. As most of you know, Harry Potter lives with his Muggle relatives during the summer holidays. This past June, Mr. Potter’s aunt informed me that, one year prior, Madam Umbridge had approached her and her husband, and offered to help them permanently remove their nephew from the Wizarding world.”
At these words, outraged conversations erupted all around the room. Madam Bones allowed them to continue for a few moments before restoring order by rapping sharply on the table in front of her with a gavel.
“That evidence is inadmissible, Dumbledore!” shouted Fudge. He was on his feet and glaring daggers across the courtroom at the old Headmaster. “You know very well that Muggles are not allowed to testify before the Wizengamot.”
“Of course,” Dumbledore agreed, nodding at Fudge. “However, there is no law preventing me from recounting our interview. You will find a description of it before you.” He waved his wand, and a stack of parchment appeared before each person in the gathering. “As you can see, Madam Umbridge did, with the permission of Harry Potter’s aunt and uncle, use a Memory Charm to obscure his knowledge of magic, and use multiple Fidelius Charms to ensure that he would remain hidden.”
A murmur ran through the crowd, and Fudge once again rose to his feet, a slight sneer twisting his face. “If she had the permission of the boy’s relatives, Dumbledore, then you have no case here,” he said in a very condescending tone.
“Does Madam Umbridge admit to performing these charms with the permission of Mr. Potter’s Muggle relatives, then?” asked Madam Bones.
Umbridge looked down at her own stack of parchment and seemed to decide that there was no point denying it. “Of course,” she said, in her breathy, girlish voice. “I was only trying to help. After all, Mr. Potter seems unable to function properly with his fame within the Wizarding world. He would have been much better off going back to his peaceful life as an ordinary Muggle.” Harry had to bite his lip to keep from shouting at her, but Dumbledore seemed surprisingly calm.
“I would like to ask you all to turn to the second page of evidence. There you will find an official Ministry of Magic document certifying that custody of Harry James Potter, in all things relating to magic and the Wizarding world, belongs to his godfather, one Sirius Black.” This pronouncement brought about even louder and more frantic conversation than before, but Madam Bones silenced it quickly.
Before Dumbledore had a chance to resume speaking, Fudge was on his feet again. “A convicted murderer cannot have custody of a child, Dumbledore!” he roared.
Dumbledore nodded politely. “Once again, Minister, you are correct. However, as Mr. Black was never given the benefit of a trial, he was never convicted, and therefore remained Harry Potter’s legal guardian until Mr. Potter came of age this past July.”
“But you’ve been insisting Black was dead for over a year!” Fudge argued.
“Indeed,” Dumbledore replied. “In the eyes of the law, however, he still lives, as the Ministry has stubbornly refused to acknowledge the eyewitness accounts of his death.” He turned away from Fudge as he continued, “I wonder, Madam Umbridge, did you obtain permission from Mr. Black before performing the Obliviate and Fidelius Charms on Harry Potter?”
Umbridge scowled at him, but did not answer.
“Thank you,” said Dumbledore. Apparently, her silence was as good as an admission of guilt, and Harry felt a fresh spark of hope deep inside his chest. Dumbledore turned to his left and said, “I believe the kidnapping charge falls under this same category; am I correct, Madam Bones?”
“That is correct,” she confirmed.
“And now to the Dementors and the offenses committed at Hogwarts over a year ago: use of a Blood Quill on a minor, and attempted use of an Unforgivable Curse on a fellow human being,” Dumbledore continued. Umbridge was now squirming uncomfortably, and Harry felt a surge of hope that he would have his memory back before the night was over.
“The final pages of evidence I have given you detail the testimony of several students about the Blood Quill and the incident in which Mr. Potter narrowly escaped the Cruciatus Curse at Madam Umbridge’s hand, as well as her confession to sending two Dementors after Mr. Potter the previous summer.” He sat down and waited patiently as Harry fidgeted and the members of the Wizengamot sifted through the remaining pages of evidence.
After several minutes, Madam Bones asked, “How do you answer these charges, Madam Umbridge?”
“P-preposterous,” Umbridge whimpered. “These are merely the rantings of a group of people who have been trying to ruin me ever since I began teaching at Hogwarts two years ago.”
“Then you offer no evidence to the contrary?” Madam Bones asked, the tone of her voice clearly indicating her surprise.
“Of course we have evidence to the contrary,” Fudge cut in. He waved his wand, and a few more pages of parchment appeared in front of the Wizengamot members. There was another very long pause while the new evidence was being read. After several tense minutes of waiting, Harry had to force himself to stop rubbing his locket before he risked putting a hole in the front of his robes.
“This is your evidence?” Madam Bones asked after she had finished reading the new pages.
“Y-yes,” Umbridge replied in her girlish voice.
“Then it appears to come down to a question of trustworthiness,” said Madam Bones. “Do we, as a Wizengamot, place more trust in Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Ronald Weasley, Ginevra Weasley, and Albus Dumbledore, or in Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Dolores Umbridge? Now is the time to decide.”
She paused for what seemed an eternity before calling out, “All those in favor of finding the defendant, Dolores Jane Umbridge, guilty of all charges?”
Harry held his breath and tried to see how many hands were up, but he wasn’t in a very good position to do so. After several painfully long minutes, Madam Bones’ voice rang out again. “Those in favor of acquittal?”
Not one hand within Harry’s range of vision went up.
This time, the wait was not nearly as long before Madam Bones stated, “Dolores Jane Umbridge, you have been found guilty of all charges. Your sentence shall be as follows: For the charge of kidnapping, you will serve four years in Azkaban prison. For illegal use of a Memory Charm you will serve an additional two years. For illegally performing multiple Fidelius Charms in order to cover your deeds, you will serve three more years. The use of your Blood Quill while at Hogwarts earns you one year, your ridiculous stunt of sending Dementors after Mr. Potter earns you another five years, and your foiled attempt at using the Cruciatus Curse earns you another two years.”
She paused for a moment to check her calculations before continuing, “This brings your sentence to a total of seventeen years in Azkaban. You will relinquish your wand immediately.”
Umbridge stood, visibly shaking, as a wizard who had been standing guard near the door approached her with his hand outstretched, ready to take her wand. She slowly drew the abnormally short wand and held it out in front of her in both hands. Then, locking eyes with Harry and giving him a look of pure malice, she snapped her wand in half. Harry’s insides froze.
“NO!” he shouted, and launched himself at the woman who had just destroyed his only hope for recovering his memory. Dumbledore caught the back of his robes and pulled him back. Cries of outrage were coming from all around the dungeon courtroom as the guard stared blankly at the broken wand in his hand.
Harry seethed with rage. Umbridge couldn’t get away with this; she had to be punished. Not even bothering to think about the consequences, he thrust both hands forward and fired the most powerful Blasting Curse he could muster directly at Umbridge’s chest. She flew across the room and slammed into the far wall with a sickening crunch. The courtroom fell silent.
“Arrest him!” shouted Fudge. “It was Potter! Arrest him!”
“There will be no need for that, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said firmly. “As you well know, Mr. Potter was searched before being allowed to enter this proceeding, and he does not have his wand.” He gave Harry a stern look as he finished speaking, and Harry felt his stomach drop into his toes as his anger ebbed away and was replaced by a feeling of utter emptiness. He could deal with a lot of things, but that look of disappointment from Albus Dumbledore was not one of them.
“Madam Umbridge!” Madam Bones thundered as soon as one of the guards had helped the convicted woman regain consciousness. “For that despicable display, your sentence is hereby increased to twenty years in Azkaban. Get her out of my sight!”
Dumbledore motioned to the guard holding Umbridge’s wand, and he brought it to the Headmaster. “I think I shall take this back to Hogwarts with me,” he said as he gingerly picked up the broken wand. The guard, having no problem with this, simply nodded and walked away to help escort Umbridge to a holding cell.
“It’s over,” Harry muttered dejectedly. “My memory’s gone for good.” He kicked the stone bench he had been sitting on, but the pain in his toe hardly even registered.
“Come along,” Dumbledore said quietly, leading him by the arm. “There is always hope.” His words sounded empty to Harry. For the first time ever, he was absolutely certain that his memory would never return.