Trial

8: Trial

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

Hermione arrived minutes after they had taken Snape away, and she needed more than an hour to stop shouting at everyone at hand. It wasn't even so much that Scrimgeour believed him guilty of rape; it was that he had acted so fast and so efficiently without giving her the slightest, smallest chance to intervene. And when she learned that Harry had injured the Potions master, that currently, he was on his way to Azkaban although fevery and unconscious, only Dumbledore was able to hold her back from getting after her best friend and turning him into something small and nasty.

"All you have to do is testify, and he will be out of Azkaban before dinner time," Dumbledore assured her. "That's what Scrimgeour said – you need to say it before witnesses that he was under the Imperius Curse." He didn't look at her whilst saying those words.

Hermione, pale and out of breath, trembling still from rage and fear for Snape, finally sat on the couch. "If I had been here," she murmured to no one in particular, "I could have stated whatever was necessary, and he would be at Hogwarts now or St. Mungo's. But I stayed with Ginny instead. She was so very worried about you, and then she collapsed and began to bleed and I had to take her to the hospital! Afterwards, I considered it necessary not to leave her alone, assuming that at least someone here had some brains left in their skulls."

She sighed. Rising, she looked at Dumbledore, trying to understand how he could have allowed Severus to be taken away just like that. "I'm going to the Ministry," she said as calmly as possible. "Albus, would you accompany me?"

"Naturally, my dear," the Headmaster answered.

*****

Snape wasn't released from Azkaban that day, nor was he allowed visitors.

Hermione couldn't believe that she wasn't even allowed to see Severus. Dumbledore tried to intervene, but all he managed was to confirm that his Potions master was indeed held captive in Azkaban and that he was alive. Madam Pomfrey demanded to be brought to him, but her wish was also denied.

By the end of the day, Hermione saw no other way to speed things up than to seek out the press.

"Sorry, sweetie, but my hands are bound," Rita Skeeter told Hermione. "In my opinion, there's something fishy here. If you allowed me to publish your opinion – an exclusive interview, maybe? – it could help his case, though." Expectantly, she looked at the young witch, quill ready, beetle-eyes glittering with excitement to get a juicy story any moment now.

"Sure," Hermione replied sternly, and when Rita handed her the draft of her interview, Hermione went to Xeno Lovegood. He sketched out a large article about Scrimgeour and the lack of justice at the Ministry. With both articles, Hermione went to the Minister, threatened to have them printed not only in The Quibbler and the Daily Prophet, but in Muggle newspapers as well, and demanded that Professor Snape be released.

That worked. Three days after Snape had been taken from Vernon Dursley's house, the trial was set.

*****

The courtroom was packed on the morning of the trial. Naturally, Harry, Hermione, and Albus Dumbledore were there, plus Luna and Xeno Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Madam Pomfrey, and Minerva McGonagall. The Weasleys sat in the back row, Molly and Arthur holding hands. Ron was there as well. His face was stern when he saw Hermione, and she looked away, pained and embarrassed at the same time. Had she really considered marrying him not so long ago?

All of Hogwarts' teachers sat on one long bench, accompanied by students and their parents. The small courtroom was stuffed, every seat occupied, every free space taken by someone who was interested in this trial. Severus Snape was a well-known and heartily disliked man, but at least those who knew about the Order of the Phoenix had come to support him.

That fact obviously stunned Scrimgeour. "What's going on here?" he murmured, avoiding eye-contact and trying to push past Hermione in his haste. "I didn't expect you here. Actually, I didn't expect to see anyone here today. Goodness, woman, he raped you. How can you actually try to free him?"

"Did you really think we would allow you to hold this trial in private?" Hermione snapped. "You have no reason to keep Severus Snape in Azkaban. I don't press charges. There is no case, there shouldn't be a trial, and really, Mr Scrimgeour, this is a farce, nothing else."

Rufus Scrimgeour raised his lion-like head. "We need clarification concerning Mr Snape's role in all this. He refused to talk to anyone. He refused to let us Legilimens him as well. You demanded this trial will be held, Miss Granger, so held it will be." He sounded cross and angry, more or less shouldered the young woman aside, and went to take his place amongst the judges.

"I wanted him to be released!" Hermione shouted after him, but Scrimgeour didn't listen anymore.

Snape was already in the courtroom. He was standing between two guards on a podium in the far corner of the stone-walled room, head down, face covered by hair. Dressed in his usual black, Hermione thought for a short moment that he looked awfully weak, more like a ghost than a man made of flesh and blood.

She looked at Severus again, took in his haggard, tired face and the feverish red spots on his prominent cheekbones. He wasn't well, leaned against the handrail for support, and in his eyes, she saw bitterness and surprise. He very clearly hadn't expected to see her.

She moved closer to Severus. When she was right at the other side of the barrier, she looked up at him. "I have pressed no charges against you, Severus. I testified before witnesses that I have no intention of sending you to Azkaban. I tried to get you out, but they insisted on keeping you. No visitors allowed, or I would have been there immediately."

Snape rose an eyebrow. "Then why am I in a courtroom, Hermione? Who is behind this, if not you?"

"What the..." she began to ask, but Scrimgeour fast faster.

"Miss Granger!" Scrimgeour's voice thundered through the room. "You are not allowed to talk to the suspect! Sit down so we can begin this trial."

"Actually, there can't be a trial without a charge," Albus Dumbledore cast in. The look on his face was unusually stern, and he placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder as soon as he was close enough. "Professor Granger has made it clear that the crime against her was performed by Professor Snape whilst he was under the Imperius Curse. By law, no victim of this curse can be held responsible for his actions. I have used Legilimens to verify Professor Snape's explanation of what happened on the night in question. You are bound to release him, Rufus, and you know it."

Scrimgeour shot up like a cork out of a bottle. "Snape kidnapped your precious Harry Potter, Dumbledore," he shouted. "He took him Merlin knows where, and I want to know exactly why he did it and what happened afterwards, even if I have to keep your employee in Azkaban for the rest of his life. Is that clear, now!" The Minister's face had turned red with fury. "Potter nearly kills Snape, then saves him, then tells me your Potions master has raped Professor Granger. Too many open questions, Dumbledore. This trial will take place, charges or not. No one will make a fool out of me by keeping secrets. And if your employee doesn't talk, he's as good as dead, given his condition."

As if to prove Scrimgeour's words to be true, Snape swayed and had to clutch his bound hands to the handrail in order not to fall. His eyes, burning and lying deeply in their sockets, focussed on Hermione. A small, nearly invisible shake of his head told her all she needed to know. Reigning in her temper, she reached up and briefly touched his fingertips. Then she formally said," I wish to testify," and stepped towards the bench.

"No!" Snape rasped. His voice was deep and hoarse. Leaning forward, his gaze became pleading. "This is... private. Don't reveal what happened. For your own sake!"

Scrimgeour shut him up with a wave of his hand. From the glow in his eyes, he was more than eager to hear everything the Potions master had been unwilling to tell.

Hermione slowly stepped in front of the court, fully aware of the fact that Severus didn't want her to testify. "From what you have just said, Minister, I can make a pretty good assumption as to what has happened," she began. "Severus – Professor Snape, that is – might not want to share this information, but if it is necessary in order to end this and get him back home, I have to ignore his wishes."

Scrimgeour impatiently waved his hand for her to continue.

Gathering her thoughts, she folded her hands together to stop them from trembling. "Last December, Voldemort forced Severus to rape me," Hermione said as loud and clearly as possible. Of course she heard the gasps her revelation caused; of course she saw Ron's head shooting up, staring at her with wide eyes. Continuing wasn't easy now. "Afterwards, he beat me unconscious, then carried me to the infirmary where Madam Pomfrey saved my life. He went to Headmaster Dumbledore and told him that he had acted whilst being under the Imperius Curse.

"I was broken. So was Professor Snape. We both suffered a great deal. I refused to talk to anyone; I refused to accept any help. I wanted to die, and I wanted Professor Snape to be dead, too."

One brief look in Ron's direction. He listened, hands balled into fists, and seemed close to attacking Snape, whose head was hung low.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She saw pity in many faces, which was all right; she saw something like feverish curiosity in Scrimgeour's eyes, which made her sick.

"Instead of killing myself or him or both of us, I decided to end it by weakening our memories to an extent where they couldn't harm us any longer."

Where there had been gasps before, there now was a ringing silence, caused by shocked comprehension. Only Scrimgeour was a bit slow in understanding what she had just said. "To weaken the memory, it must be overlaid with a similar one," the Minister stated indignantly. "In this case, it would mean to overlay the rape memory with one of consensual sexual intercourse." Then, obviously realising what he just had said, he managed an, "Oh!" in a quite surprised way.

Hermione clenched her teeth. "Oh. Exactly. I used a potion to make Professor Snape... willing to comply. It was necessary, although you could very well say I raped him."

"For Merlin's sake, Hermione." Snape sounded as tired as he looked. "I never wanted you to accuse yourself. I didn't want anyone to know about this."

Hermione gazed at him once more and continued. "Severus then came to me and asked for the potion I had used to bring him under my command. There are several spells which can be performed with a wand to produce this effect, but no potion. I found it in an old German journal. I can only assume he used it to bring Voldemort under his command. Am I right?"

Snape nodded once. "I could never have hexed or cursed him; no one could. A raised wand in his presence meant immediate death. He always checked his food and drink for poison. Accordingly, I strengthened the potion, poured it onto a cloth, and polished his goblet with it. When he checked the wine, he found nothing. After a sip, he was under my command. When I suggested he should put his wand down, he did. He was helpless. As planned."

His words caused a tumult. Outcries here and there indicated that he had been heard even in the farthest corner, and Hermione could see from the corner of her eye how frantically Xeno Lovegood scribbled in his notebook.

Scrimgeour had to shout "Silence" several times before he was able to ask the one question everyone wanted to know the answer to. "What the hell do you mean by 'under your command', Snape? Do you mean to claim that You-Know-Who has to listen to you? That you can order him around? That he... obeys you?"

More questions, murmured from the audience, accompanied his words. Snape, pale as a ghost and about as stable on his feet, frowned. "I don't understand your question. Of course he is not under my command. He is under no one's command." Slowly, he brought his hands up and wiped them across his face, looking more and more tired and ill by the minute.

Silence. The courtroom's noises had died with his words. The small hope of the Dark Lord finally being under someone else's command had been killed the moment it had blossomed.

Snape looked up, confused. Then he focussed on Harry. "Potter," he snapped. "Did you by any chance forget to tell the world the most important news in more than twenty years? Could it be that you were stupid enough to keep this information to yourself?" Something close to amusement could be heard in his voice, accompanied by disbelieving disdain.

Harry stood, well aware of the fact that everyone was looking at him. Dumbledore had taken off his glasses and was polishing them frantically, Scrimgeour turned his wand in an endless circle, and Xeno Lovegood had stopped recording the events. Hermione tugged at his sleeve. "Harry?" she asked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I... um... ermmm," Harry began and blushed from head to toes. "I've been in the hospital with Ginny ever since Dumbledore told me she might lose the baby. I didn't think of anything else. And anyway, why you didn't tell them? Scrimgeour said they asked you and you refused to answer."

"I was bloody unconscious until a few hours ago, idiot, and frankly, had more pressing problems than testifying given that I am still barely able to stand on my own two legs. No one ansked me anything, at least not whilst I was able to hear them. Now did you, Potter, or did you not tell them?" Snape hissed, leaning forward and completely ignoring his wardens who tried to pull him back. "If not, this would be the right moment. Tell them I had a reason to kidnap you. Tell them why I took you away from your home and your wife!"

"Tell us what?" Dumbledore asked mildly. He had managed to make his way to the young man and now put both hands on Harry's shoulders.

Harry had to clear his throat several times before he managed to mumble, "Voldemort's dead. I killed him with Gryffindor's sword. Professor Snape helped me to do it. He took me to Voldemort's house, he handed me the sword, he filled him up with the poisoned wine. Without him, I wouldn't have made it."

A pin could have been heard in the courtroom. Dozens of people stopped breathing, each heartbeat seemed to stop, and by the looks of it, people had abandoned the need to blink, too.

"Dead?" Scrimgeour whispered. "Like in... dead?"

Harry shuffled his feet a bit, clearly quite embarrassed. "Yes. Sorry for not having told you sooner."

Scrimgeour pointed his wand at Harry and nodded towards Snape's guards. They grabbed him and pulled him back, keeping him safely between them. "Prove it," he growled. "Show me the sword. I want the sword that killed You-Know-Who. I want to perform the Revelation Spell to show me someone has been killed with the sword and who this someone was. Where is the sword?"

"I don't have it." Harry's eyes darted back and forth between Snape and the minister. "I had to leave it at the house where I killed him. Otherwise, I would never have been able to get Professor Snape out. I don't have it!"

Scrimgeour cast him an ugly smile. "Therefore, I will keep Snape in custody, and probably Potter as well. Neither of you can prove your words; I don't need lies about You-Know-Who's death!"

Dumbledore rose to his full height. But before he could say a word, the door to the courtroom flew open. A large, blond young man with shoulders like a small wardrobe came in, easily pushing aside everyone in the way. After him a smaller man trotted, beefy and bulky and owning a moustache like a walrus. The older man was clearly unhappy about absolutely everything, especially his surroundings and the dozens of witches and wizards eyeing him curiously. "I dislike this, Dudders," Vernon Dursley muttered constantly, but followed his son nevertheless until they both stood in front of Harry.

"Dudley," Harry stammered. "How the hell did you get in here?"

Dudley grinned. "Mrs Figg told me where you were and what's happening today. Thought you could do with some help, with you having killed that Voldy-thingy and losing the sword and all."

Scrimgeour looked as if he'd have a stroke any moment now. "Who are you?" he demanded, but sunk back onto his chair. Dropping his wand, he even allowed Snape to sit down with a small nod of his head.

Dudley ignored the Minister entirely. Instead, he slipped the bag he had been carrying to Harry's feet. It hit the ground with a heavy 'clunk'.

Hermione felt the small hairs on her neck rise. "Is this... don't tell me this is Gryffindor's sword!" She fell to her knees and fumbled the latches open; a moment later, she cried out in triumph, holding the golden sword high into the air. "Revelato Memoriae," she said loud and clear. "Show us who has been killed by your blade."

The reaction to her spell was surprising – everyone moved away from her and Harry. People who had been at arm's length tried to put some more distance between themselves and the young witch with the sword held high above her head. Wizards who would have called themselves brave turned pale and attempted to hide behind benches. Scrimgeour ducked, his wand lying forgotten on the table before him.

Only because each of them expected to see an image of Lord Voldemort. Only because each of them was scared to death by this prospect.

Harry didn't move, nor did Dumbledore.

A shadow formed in front of the High Court. It wasn't as tall as people had thought it would be. Wavering, it became more solid, gained colour and substance. Snake-like eyes, bald head, and unnatural long limbs. A dirty robe, covered in blood, dressed the silent shadow. People gasped; sobs could be heard, sounds of fear and terror. Only Snape looked at the Dark Lord's shadow with clear disgust showing in his face.

Slowly, the shadow turned to Harry. Then, severed by the ghost of a sword, Lord Voldemort's head sailed once more through the air.

Shrieks, yells, and hurried movement. Those who stood there tried to move away from the place where the head would land.

A second shadow, the shadow of a snake, appeared on the ground. By then, people were too shocked to scream. They just moved farther away, the door to the courtroom was pushed open, and wizards and witches escaped through the small hole in the wall.

At last, both shadows exploded into dust once again, leaving nothing behind but a nearly empty courtroom.