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I think. were nearly. yes. Weasley stumbled to a halt outside a grimy dark door with an immense iron lock and slumped against the wall, clutching at a stitch in his chest. Go on, he panted, pointing his thumb at the door. Get in there. Arent - arent you coming with -. No, no, Im not allowed. Good luck. Harrys heart was beating a violent tattoo against his Adams apple. He swallowed hard, turned the heavy iron door handle, and stepped inside the courtroom. H CHAPTER EIGHT THE HEARING arry gasped; he could not help himself. The large dungeon he had entered was horribly familiar. He had not only seen it before, he had been here before: This was the place he had visited inside Dumbledores Pensieve, the place where he had watched the Lestranges sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban. The walls were made of dark stone, dimly learn more here by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of him, but ahead, in the highest benches of all, were many shadowy figures. They had been talking in low voices, but as the heavy door swung closed behind Harry an ominous silence fell. A cold male voice rang across the courtroom. Youre late. Sorry, said Harry nervously. I-I didnt know the time had changed. That is not the Wizengamots fault, said the voice. An owl was sent to you this morning. Take your seat. Harry dropped his gaze to the chair in the center of the room, the arms of which were covered in chains. He had seen those chains spring to life and bind whoever sat between them. His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked across the stone floor. When he sat gingerly on the edge of the chair the chains clinked rather threateningly but did not bind him. Feeling rather sick he looked up at the people seated at the bench above. There were about fifty of them, all, as far as he could see, wearing plumcolored robes with an elaborately worked silver W on the left-hand Steam deck joystick slippery of the chest and all staring down their noses at him, some with very austere expressions, others looks of frank curiosity. In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Need pubg for download pc speed for free of Magic. Fudge was a portly man who often sported a lime-green bowler hat, though today he had dispensed with it; he armored core steam fps dispensed too with the indulgent smile he had once worn when he spoke to Harry. A broad, squarejawed witch with very short gray hair sat on Fudges left; she wore a monocle and looked forbidding. On Fudges right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was in shadow. Very well, said Fudge. The accused being present - finally - let us begin. Are you ready. he called down the row. Yes, sir, said an eager voice Harry knew. Rons brother Percy was sitting at the very end of the front bench. Harry looked at Percy, expecting some sign of recognition from him, but none came. Percys eyes, behind his hornrimmed glasses, were fixed on go here parchment, a quill poised in his hand. Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August, said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister here Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley - - Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, said a quiet voice from behind Harry, who turned his head so fast he cricked his neck. Dumbledore was striding serenely across the room wearing long midnightblue robes and a perfectly calm expression. His long silver beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with Harry and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose. The members of the Wizengamot were muttering. All eyes were now on Dumbledore. Some looked annoyed, others slightly frightened; two elderly witches in the back row, however, raised their hands and waved in welcome. A powerful emotion had risen in Harrys chest at the sight of Dumbledore, a fortified, hopeful feeling rather like that which phoenix song gave him. He wanted to catch Dumbledores eye, but Dumbledore was not looking his way; he was continuing to look up at the obviously flustered Fudge. Ah, said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. Dumbledore. Yes. You - er - got our - er - message that the time and - er - place of the hearing had been changed, then. I must have missed it, said Dumbledore cheerfully. However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done. Yes - well - I suppose well need another chair - I - Weasley, could you -. Not to worry, not to worry, said Dumbledore pleasantly; he took out his wand, gave it a little flick, and a squashy chintz armchair appeared out of nowhere next to Harry. Dumbledore sat down, put the tips of his long fingers together, and looked at Fudge over them with an expression of polite interest. The Wizengamot was still muttering and fidgeting restlessly; only when Fudge spoke again did they settle down. Yes, said Fudge again, shuffling his notes. Well, then. The charges. Yes. He extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read, The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards Statute of Secrecy. You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Fudge said, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment. Yes, Harry said. You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not. Yes, but - And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August. said Fudge. Yes, check this out Harry, but - Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen. Yes, but - Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles. Yes, but - Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time. Yes, said Harry angrily, but I only used it because we were - The witch with the monocle on Fudges left cut across him in a booming voice. You produced a fully fledged Patronus. Yes, said Harry, Steam deck joystick slippery - A corporeal Patronus. A - what. said Harry. Your Patronus had a clearly defined form. I mean to say, it was more than vapor or smoke. Yes, said Harry, feeling both impatient and slightly desperate, its a stag, its always a stag. Always. boomed Madam Bones. You have produced a Patronus before now. Yes, said Harry, Ive been doing it for over a year - And you are fifteen years old. Yes, and - You learned this at school. Yes, Professor Lupin taught me in my third year, because of the - Impressive, said Madam Bones, staring down at him, a true Patronus at that age. very impressive indeed. Some of the wizards and witches around her were muttering again; a few nodded, but others were frowning and shaking their heads. Its not a question of how impressive the magic was, said Fudge in a testy voice. In fact, the more impressive the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the boy did it in plain view of a Muggle. Those who had been frowning now murmured in agreement, but it was the sight of Percys sanctimonious little nod that goaded Harry into speech. I did it because of the dementors. he said loudly, before anyone could interrupt him again. He had expected more muttering, but the silence that fell seemed to be somehow denser than before. Dementors. said Madam Bones after a moment, raising her thick eyebrows so that her monocle looked in danger of falling out. What do you mean, boy. I mean there were two dementors down that alleyway click at this page they went for me and my cousin. Ah, said Fudge again, smirking unpleasantly as he looked around at the Wizengamot, as though inviting them to share the joke. Yes. Yes, I thought wed be hearing something like this. Dementors in Little Whinging. Madam Bones said in tones of great surprise. I dont understand - Dont you, Amelia. said Fudge, still smirking. Let me explain. Hes been thinking it through and decided dementors would make a very nice little cover story, very nice indeed. Muggles cant see dementors, can they, boy. Highly convenient, highly convenient. so its just your word and no witnesses. Im not lying. said Harry loudly, over another outbreak of muttering from the court. There were two of them, coming from opposite ends of the alley, everything went dark and cold and my cousin felt them and ran for it - Enough, enough. said Fudge with a very supercilious look on his face. Im sorry to interrupt what Im sure would have been a very well-rehearsed story - Dumbledore cleared his throat. The Wizengamot fell silent again. We do, in fact, have a witness to the presence of dementors in that alleyway, he said, other than Dudley Dursley, I mean. Fudges plump face seemed to slacken, as though somebody had let air out of it. He stared down at Dumbledore for a moment or two, then, with the appearance of a man pulling himself back together, said, We havent got time to listen to more taradiddles, Im afraid, Dumbledore. I want this dealt with quickly - I may be wrong, said Dumbledore pleasantly, but I am sure that under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the accused has the right to present witnesses for his or her case. Isnt that the policy of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones. he continued, addressing the witch in the monocle. True, said Madam Bones. Perfectly true. Oh, very well, very well, snapped Fudge. Where is this person. I brought her with me, said Dumbledore. Shes just outside the door. Should I -. No - Weasley, you go, Fudge barked at Percy, who got up at once, hurried down the stone steps from the judges balcony, and hastened past Dumbledore and Harry without glancing at them. A moment later, Percy returned, followed by Mrs. Figg. She looked scared and more batty than ever. Harry wished she had thought to change out of her carpet slippers. Dumbledore stood up and gave Mrs. Figg his chair, conjuring a second one for himself. Full name. said Fudge loudly, when Mrs. Figg had perched herself nervously on the very edge of her seat. Arabella Doreen Figg, said Mrs. Figg in her quavery voice. And who exactly are you. said Fudge, in a bored and lofty voice. Im a resident of Little Whinging, close to where Harry Potter lives, said Mrs. Figg. We have no record of any witch or wizard living in Little Whinging other than Harry Potter, said Madam Bones at once. That situation has always been closely monitored, given. given past events. Im a Squib, said Mrs. Figg. So you wouldnt have me registered, would you. A Squib, eh. said Fudge, eyeing her suspiciously. Well be checking that. Youll leave details of your parentage with my assistant, Weasley. Incidentally, can Squibs see dementors. he added, looking left and right along the bench where he sat. Yes, we can. said Mrs. Figg indignantly. Fudge looked back down at her, his eyebrows raised. Very well, he said coolly. What is your story. I had gone out to buy cat food from the corner shop at the end of Wisteria Walk, shortly after nine on the evening of the second of August, gabbled Mrs. Figg at once, as though she had learned what she was saying by heart, when I heard a disturbance down the alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. On approaching the mouth of the alleyway I saw dementors running - Running. said Madam Bones sharply.

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