Neville paused just inside of the door to the Headmaster’s office, straining to hear if, perhaps, the Headmaster was leading a discussion with the rest of the group. All he heard was the sound of adults pleasantly engaging in small talk. He entered as quietly as possible, gently shut the door behind, and headed towards the Headmaster’s desk, where Headmaster Flitwick was seated on his custom built throne-like chair. As he walked into the room, Neville eyed the large group seated in plush Club chairs, arranged in an arc in front the large, ornate oak desk. As the people in the room noticed his entry, the conversation quickly became hushed. Neville caught Flitwick’s eye, and the Headmaster motioned his head towards the one empty chair amongst the four behind his desk.

As he walked around the chairs which held the parents, it was obvious that they had questions ready to ask him about how the children reacted and were received upon their return to their Common Room and their fellow students. However, Flitwick extended his arms with his hands out to maintain control over the crowd. Before Astoria Malfoy could question Neville, Flitwick cleared his throat and called on Ron Weasley to come to the front of the room. Neville, moving toward his seat with the other staff, and Ron, moving toward the lecture beside the desk, bumped into each other, both apologized for the contact, and Neville sheepishly slid into a chair between Professors Aurora Sinista (Head of Slytherin) and John Dawlish (Head of Hufflepuff).

Ron waited to make sure that Neville had truly settled in his chair. He turned around making eye contact with each member of his audience, starting at far right of the half circle was the Jones brothers (Owain and Ioan); to their left, the Jones’ wives; the Draco Malfoys; Justin Grindus and his ex-wife, Bella; his sister Ginny; and, of course, Hermione. As he was about to begin speaking, he looked down to refresh his memory from the notes he had fashioned for his presentation to the staff and parents. The hand was empty. He had inexplicably left the notes under his teacup on the spindle legged, cherry wood table next to his chair.

Hermione saw her husband’s eyes flick from his empty right hand to the table. She was not quite able to smother the sigh before it escaped and saw her husband wince at the disappointed sound. Trying hard not to roll her eyes, she leaned across his chair, moved the cup causing an audible clinking sound, and picked the three pages off of the little table. After placing the pages in order, she passed him the notes. However, Draco was in the audience and Ron was not going to appear wanting in front of him.

He cleared his throat to buy time for his recollection of the major points. Hermione again rustled the notes, and when he doubled his effort to ignore her, she sighed again and turned toward Ginny. She showed his sister the papers and shook her head. Ginny added a small snort compounding his embarrassment.

â€�“Well, the point is that the Medi-Wizards found no curses with any of the rescued kidnapped.” The Jones women whispered to each other and Astoria squeezed Draco’s hand. â€�“They also said that the physical trauma is healed and that the mental - aah...well - psychological damage will be minor and will fade, but some of it remain for the short term.” He paused, but no reaction came to this announcement. He gave Draco a quick glance and pushed on. â€�“However, after the Auror’s Office and Department of Mysteries experts examined the memories obtained from Scorpius Malfoy, they were able to conclude-”

A small cough, followed by a louder and more staged cough, came from the portrait of former Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, â€�“Pardon me, Mr. Weasley.” Ron paused, looking up at the picture of his former Head of House. The painted woman turned her head toward the chair where Neville sat and made a sour face that made it apparent to all who had known her in life that she meant to say something quite distasteful. After a small pause, she said in her clipped Scottish accent, â€�“Professor Longbottom, a physical altercation and its aftermath are currently occurring in the Gryffindor Common Room.” Ron turned to see Neville’s face turn a bright red in reaction to the news.

â€�“What caused it?”

â€�“Master Woolingsbee made a couple of very loud and unkind comments about how Miss Rose Weasley and Master Malfoy were overrated Quidditch players, and the Gryffindor team didn’t need them to win the House Cup. Upon hearing his comments, Miss Potter - followed closely by her friends Miss Baird and Dragonherd - confronted the boy. When he continued to add to his comments, well, Miss Baird kicked him in the shin, and when he bent over in pain, Miss Potter squarely struck the boy’s face with her fist. I believe I saw blood coming from his nose.”

â€�“Lily,” said Ginny in a sad disappointed tone of voice. As Neville walked towards the door, he found Ginny Potter marching toward the Gryffindor Common Room with him.

Ron watched as the door closed and turned back to the parents at a total loss of what he had and was about to say to them. Hermione re-raised the notes, with her right index finger pointing to the place on page two that was the next topic.

Ron stepped over and snatched the notes from her hand before realizing he couldn’t read the writing in the dim candlelit, so he reached into his waistcoat pocket to pull out a pair of gold-framed half-moon reading glasses. As he placed the spectacles on his nose, the first thing that came into focus was the smugly smiling face of Draco Malfoy.

Harry watched as his barrister, Art Cabral, argue with the triad of judges behind the tall black wooden dais. The second hearing was going exactly as Cabral had predicted. The head prosecutor had read a prepared statement into the record saying that Harry’s fellow rescuers had reached a series of separate agreements with the Magical People of the United States of America, and no further prosecution would be proceeding from the incidents at the Salem Academy and the unfortunate rescue attempt.

After the reading of the statement, Cabral had turned in his chair and addressed the asked the Prosecutor, â€�“Is it safe to assume that the same offers will be given to my client?”

The woman prosecutor stood, but she answered the query toward the judges and not her opponent. â€�“The Magical People of the United States have no desire nor any inclination to offer the defendant any similar plea deal.”

In a blink of an eye, Art had not only sprung to his feet, but he had approached the dais, unbidden. â€�“What we have here is selective prosecution by the state! What we have here are political shenanigans masquerading as justice! What we have here is-â€�“

The presiding judge’s gavel cut Cabral off with its second slamming.

Harry watched as the Judges motioned the Prosecutor to join them. The meeting of the judges and the two lawyers was being carried out in whispers almost loud enough to be audible. As they whispered, he remained calm. Although he would have not been frightened by all of this, the reason for the icy demeanor was not for the court, but the audience. The entire audience was three people: Rita Skeeter, a male reporter for the national magical paper, and a young woman from the American version of the Wizarding Wireless Network. Behind him was a row of chairs normally reserved for the family members of the accused. The four chairs had been remained empty for all of the hearings. He, without any conscious thought, found himself focused on the seats. He caught himself and immediately homed in on Skeeter. She just sat there with her green quill dancing over parchment on a writing desk she had conjured. A large, wolfish grin spread across her face, and he noticed that she had added two more gold teeth to her collection that passed for her smile.

â€�“Well, let her spend her time reporting on something as unimportant as his family life.” The thought struck home and for a second he felt a pang of loss. For the first time since she had rejected his first proposal of marriage, he doubted Ginny. Harry turned towards Skeeter and locked eyes with the woman seeing if it would unnerve her. It had no effect. So he turned to smile at the other two in the audience before turning back to the front of the court.

The two Americans had asked for permission for an interview, but the court had a gag order on the trial. However, Art had arranged for documents about Harry’s status of British hero read into the record before the prosecution objected and the reading was stopped. The next day, a grinning Cabral dropped the American’s national Magical newspaper on the desk. On page three, a full length review of the story and featured prominently was the history of the Boy-Who-Lived and the man you destroyed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The quotes in the article from the British Ministry of Magic and Rita Skeeter seemed to be talking about a different man than the noble warrior the rest of the article described. Harry was pleasantly surprised to see supportive comments in the story from Luna Lovegood-Scamander (the internationally famous naturalist) and Rebekka Dokes (Priestess of Justice of the Island). Harry smiled as he read the last quote. Did her comments mean that either she and/or her government were no longer going to abide by their strict international neutrality to issues beyond their Caribbean homeland? It was a sign that, just maybe, Hermione’s side trip on her way back home had been well-received.

The gavel crashed again and announced a ten minute recess in the chambers with the lawyers. Harry and the Bailiff were to remain in the courtroom. Harry pulled a two day old Daily Prophet that Skeeter had presented him out of Art’s briefcase. Ron had captured a wizard in the midst of crashing a Muggle communications tower near where Harry knew Malfoy Manor was. Ron’s effort to save the tower was for naught, with it being condemned and flattened by the Muggles after the attack. However, a member of Lucius’ crew was captured. Harry wondered if the man would die, like the kidnappers, at the first sign of interrogation. Also in the Sports section, a photograph of Ginny, who had not made an appearance at the trial, speaking at the naming ceremony of the Wasps' practice facility after Bobby Devon. He watched the repeating little image of his wife speaking and dabbing her eyes. Each time the cycle began, he felt a new wave of loneliness and abandonment crash in upon him. He reached his left hand over his wand hand to hide the shaking.

When the officers of the court returned, they had an announcement. The Federal charges, Illegal Entry into the Country and interference with a Federal Investigation, were being dropped, but the local charges were not. He would be transferred back to Salem for trial for manslaughter and conspiracy to hinder a police investigation. He looked at Art, who smiled at him. He wasn’t sure he wanted the dropping of the larger charges. He found himself standing facing the jurists. He gripped harder on his right hand.

â€�“No! I want to be heard on the charges of entering the country and interfering with a N.A.M.E.D.-led investigation.”

The right eyelid of the lead jurist peaked as he heard Harry out. â€�“We are in a court of laws, Mr. Potter. We are not some restaurant where our customers get to customize what he is offered to fit what he wants.” The gavel fell, leaving Harry objecting to the backs of the judges as they left.

He turned to find a confused Cabral staring at him.

He should have done it before. However, he had been afraid of being overheard and having his plan thwarted by the Americans. He said in a whisper, â€�“Art, we need to talk.”

Albus had a disgusted look on his face as Scorpius joined him at the house table for Sunday breakfast. Albus looked over towards the head of the table where James, the center of attention, was standing on his bench, retelling an exaggerated version of how he had grabbed the Golden Snitch out from under Kaitlin’s grasp and won the position of Gryffindor Seeker. As a couple of girls in his year applauded much too enthusiastically for both Albus' and Scorpius' taste, the two boys shifted their gaze to the other end of the table.

Seated in between Jenelle and Maggie was the vanquished Kaitlin, and across the table from them, also vainly trying to help raise her spirits, was Rose. He and Rose had not been at the try-outs. After all that had happened to them in America, neither of them had the stomach for suiting up and playing Quidditch. So, Professor Longbottom had arranged a special meeting of the Herbology Club to assemble in Greenhouse Number Two for an organizational planning meeting.

Scorpius felt at home with the group of mostly girls, who were the vast majority, and all of the officers of the group. The club meetings reminded him of the few happy days of his childhood at Malfoy Manor, when he and his Mum tended to the plants in their greenhouses his parents used in the potions that they sold via Owl Post. When it was time for tours, it had been his idea to have Crystalline Dragonherd give Rose a special tour of the greenhouses and explain to her how the Herbology Club not only helped its members Exceed in the Herbology O.W.L.s, but was also useful for Potions, Charms, and Magical Creatures O.W.L.s. When she and Rose returned, Rose had a bounce in her step that he had not seen since after the victory over Egypt.

Unfortunately, Rose’s prolonged absence meant he had to spend time with Mariel Trout, who asked him about the ‘real’ Geoffrey Grindus, and Beatrice Dragonherd who didn’t want to be at the meeting or anyplace this near to him.

To escape Mariel’s questions and Bea’s disapproval, he volunteered to get them a plate of cakes and glasses of foaming pink punch. Scorpius looked at the wall just above the punch bowl and saw the list of pairings for the Greenhouse weekend duties was posted. He casually looked at the list, expecting to see him with Crystalline like last year. Instead, he saw that Rose was paired with Crystalline and he was paired with Beatrice. He didn’t realize that he had dropped the cup of punch until he heard the crash and felt the liquid splash on his pants. He turned to find Crystal; this pairing could not stand.

Just as his mind returned to the Great Hall, Beatrice, Abby, Hugo and the still very silent Lily all approached the table to where Kaitlin was sitting. When Kitty-Kat saw the contingent of younger students coming over to console her, she stood and took a step towards the doors. However, before she could take another stride in her attempt to escape the Hall, Bea reached out and grabbed her wrist. Kaitlin turned to vent her frustrations at the smaller girl when Abby, standing on her tip toes, began to whisper into her ear.

Like all of the upper-class students, he leaned toward the conversation, but Abby was whispering too softly to be overheard. However, he did see the anger on Kaitlin’s face morph into confusion and eventually into anticipated delight. â€�“Where? When?”

Abby replied with an ear-to-ear grin on her face. â€�“Here and very soon.” The three girls of the Little Sisters Squad and a snickering Hugo turned as one to look at a spot just about six feet above and ten feet behind James.

Scorpius quickly spotted Peeves slowly gliding towards James from behind. It looked to him that the Poltergeist had something hidden behind his back as he flew towards the Potter boy, who was miming flying his broom in a barrow-row.

Peeves interrupted the pantomime with a loud cackling voice, â€�“Congratulations on becoming the new Gryffindor Seeker. Here’s a token of appreciation from all of your female admirers.”

James looked up and too late spotted the prize. Before he could dodge out of the path, a large strawberry pie splattered squarely onto James’ face. The whole end of the table near Kaitlin exploded into cheers and jeering laughter as James scrapped the residue of the berries and reddish goop out of his eye sockets. The last person in the Great Hall to stop laughing at James was his little sister, Lily. Lily, who had hardly made a sound in a week, looked around at her stunned housemates and said to them, â€�“What!”

A gasping intake of air came from the nearby Gryffindors in response to Lily’s single word. The collective gasp was followed by Abby and Bea squealing and bouncing in place for joy and Hugo launching into a hug of his cousin. Without detaching Hugo from their friend, Bea, and Abby lead Lily down to the end of the table and began whispered conversations away from the older kids.

At first, Scorpius was ecstatic about what the little sisters had done to take James down a notch or two; then he remembered that he was going to be Beatrice’s greenhouse partner. He was going to have to assign her tasks in the Greenhouses and correct the opinionated girl when she made mistakes. He made two quick promises to himself: One to be as nice as possible to the little, green haired minx, and to always keep an eye out for Peeves after when he and Bea had argued.

The first thing that Harry noted was that the courtroom in Salem was older and smaller than the one in Washington. The courtroom looked like it was akin to the basement courtroom he had his hearing in when he was a teenager. Another difference was that the tribunal had been replaced by a single judge. Harry sized up the woman in the black robe from his chair a dozen paces away. She was about a decade older than he was. Her hair was grey, not the powdered wig of British judges, a natural grey. She spoke with an accent that he assumed must be a regional one, because it certainly was different from the drawling accent of two of the N.A.M.E.D. agents.

Another difference was that the Prosecutor was not the young woman, whose habits reminded him so much of Hermione, but a gentleman approximately a decade older than Art.

Skeeter was still in the crowd, but the Wizarding Wireless reporter had been replaced by a writer for the local paper.

Art Cabral nudged his shoulder. Harry stood and in a clear voice spoke, â€�“Not guilty, your honour.”

The judge mentioned the trial would begin in ten days after a jury had been selected. Harry grimaced. Saturday, he would miss his second Gryffindor vs. Slytherin game since he came to Hogwarts. The last time he missed the game was the year they were hunting Horcruxes. For the first time since he was arrested, he wondered if what he was trying to do was worth the things he was missing.

â€�“Albus!” Scorpius shouted with his hands cupped to amplify his voice. He knew the warning was useless, because the person he was warning was on the far side of the pitch at least twenty five yards away, and his lone shout was inaudible in the roaring of the crowd. The reason for his shout was quite evident to anyone who knew Geoffrey Grindus and was a top notch Beater. That meant that only Scorpius knew what was coming. The Bludger was rising about fifteen feet below and to the right of Grindus. Scorpius was already flinching at the blow that was about to rattle his best friend. Geoffrey dipped his bat shoulder down and did a corkscrew rotation that brought him diving through the place the Bludger would be. The corkscrew dive would almost double the power of the shot and the speed of the ball at its target. The maneuver was one that Coach Devon had drilled into him and Geoff, who executed the strike perfectly. As the ball sped toward the unsuspecting Albus, Scorpius closed his eyes not wanting to see the contact.

The whacking of the ball on bone and the moaning of the Gryffindors around him told Scorpius all he needed to know about the blast. Rose reached out to grab his forearm, which brought his eyes open to see Albus tucking his wrist into his chest and the other hand held on to a broom in a death spiral, quickly twirling down towards the grass.

Out of nowhere, Gryffindor Captain Eric Woolingsbee broke formation to practically catch Albus, and he used his strength and broom to ease the injured boy safely down to the turf. The Lion fans cheered for the leadership and teamwork he showed Albus. However, his actions left poor Mary Reilly to face a three on one charge. Natt Nott dodged a feeble blocking attempt by the off side Chaser Kaitlin Jones and fired the Quaffle through the top of the middle hoop. Slytherins lead 180 to 60.

Scorpius stopped watching the Quaffle and began to follow James Potter. Potter was feinting and diving in an attempt to lose John Summit, the Slytherin Seeker.

Rose found it first. â€�“There, by the sand pit near Mary - the Snitch. She’s not looking for it. You’re down by over a hundred; you have to help the Seeker find the Golden Snitch.” Rose was livid with her replacement, who was obliviously not thinking clearly on her broom. She was just reacting to the other team’s attacks. Rose, who still had a hold of Scorpius’ arm, growled and violently jerked on his left arm.

â€�“Oww”

â€�“Sorry, it’s just so frustrating. She’s looking right at it, but her brain isn’t engaged.” The grip on his arm grew tighter. The blood flow to his left hand was beginning to be affected. He jerked it away from her. â€�“Sorry,” she repeated.

James suddenly pulled his broom into an outside loop heading towards Mary’s hoop. He and Rose gasped at the same time. â€�“Goooo James,” he yelled.

Geoffrey must have seen the maneuver and quickly headed to mid-pitch where one of the Bludgers was moving to the side of James’ attack. Grindus almost unseated himself with the recoil from the two-handed back-hand swat of the Bludger, and Scorpius knew that the ball would arrive seconds before James would get to the Snitch. As he watched the inevitable, he saw a Maroon and Gold streak diving in between James and the ball. The Bludger struck home, knocking the Gryffindor off the broom, but it wasn’t James who fell hard onto the floor of the pitch. Kaitlin Jones had seen the attack and sacrificed herself to protect James and give him a chance at winning the match. As Rose and Scorpius watched her splat face first onto the turf, the rest of the house exploded in triumph. James had the Golden Snitch, and the Lions had won 210 to 180.

Rose pulled Scorpius by the arm, and they rushed down to the field. As James accepted the congratulations of his teammates and his housemates, they reached Kaitlin. She was gasping for air while writhing in pain.

â€�“Lay still,” he shouted to Kaitlin.

â€�“It hurts!”

â€�“Yes, but you might do more damage,” added Rose as she laid face first on the grass and took Kaitlin’s hand into hers. â€�“That was unbelievably brave of you.”

â€�“Unbelievably stupid, you mean.” She grimaced, the talking was making her hurt.

â€�“No,” reassured Scorpius. â€�“You won the game, not James, and I’ll testify to that in court.”

Scorpius was pushed aside by Madame Pomfrey and her young assistant, Madame Penn. The pair began to quickly examine Kaitlin.

As they two women began finished their examination, James rushed over to the prone body of the girl. â€�“Who did this? Tell me and I’ll deck him.”

Scorpius shook his head, and he started to speak a beat before Rose, who relented when she heard him speak. â€�“She did it herself. She was trailing you and she saw Geoffrey rip a backside blaster at you. So, she flew directly into the path of the shot and took the full shot for you.”

At that moment, nurses conjured a litter and moved Kaitlin onto it with her still face-down. James dropped to one knee, looking at Kaitlin, who was fighting to hold back any reaction to the pain. â€�“Here, it’s yours.” He placed the Snitch in her hand. As she attempted to grasp it, she yelped in pain. James turned to the head nurse. â€�“What’s wrong? How bad?”

â€�“Well, your brother has a broken wrist…the same arm you had. As for Miss Jones, I’d say a broken collarbone, two chipped teeth and maybe some deep bruising of the kidneys. I’d say they will both be back for school on Monday.”

Kaitlin moaned again and said, â€�“Can’t you make it Tuesday? I’ve got a Divination exam on reading of tea leaves on Monday.” She tried to laugh, and the effort caused her whole body to shake in agony.

â€�“I’ll go up with them. Kitty-Kat, when you leave, the Snitch is still yours.”

Scorpius saw a smile replace the pain in the girl’s face as he walked beside her up towards the Hospital wing of the school.