Hermione is my spirit animal.

Harry still wasn't sure what to think by the time his hearing day rolled around. Aunt Petunia and Dudley seemed a lot more human, but he didn't know how he felt about it. More positive about Dudley than Aunt Petunia, perhaps? It felt easier to forgive someone your own age, he supposed.

At least he could eat something that morning, even if it was just some toast and tea. He regretted even having that much with the mad dash to get to the correct courtroom in time and Mr. Weasley practically shoving him through the door.

His stomach settled when he caught sight of Aunt Petunia, garbed like a pureblood witch, and Dudley, also wearing robes, sitting with two older gentlemen he'd never met before. They sat at a table to one side of the high platform at the front of the courtroom. A chair wreathed in chains sat between the table and the other side of the platform. Two people sat over there, but he couldn't see who it was.

He never thought he'd feel relieved to see Aunt Petunia, ever. One of the older men gestured to him before anyone could speak. Harry hurried up the stairs and mutely handed him the notice he'd received before sitting in the empty chair between him and the other man. Aunt Petunia looked over to nod at him.

"He's late." A cold voice rang through the silent chamber. Minister Fudge. Where was Dumbledore? Why was Fudge running a trial?

"Heir Potter has given me a notice he received only ten minutes ago, informing him of the change of time and venue. It is, as is Ministry practice, dated and time stamped to today, ten minutes ago. Curious, Minister, wouldn't you say?" One of the older gentlemen spoke, his clear voice heard in every corner of the chamber.

"Yes, well, Solicitor Burke, er, these things happen." That sounded more like the Fudge Harry remembered. "He'll take his seat as the accused."

"Ah, yes, Minister, before we get to that I have a few concerns as Heir Potter's solicitor. First, do you now consider Heir Potter an adult? While he has been accused of underage magic, he was forced to compete in a tournament open only to those of age. With that, ordered by Ministry officials, and now the convention of the full Wizengamot, it would seem you view Heir Potter as having achieved his majority?"

Suddenly, Harry realized that the man wanted to keep him out of that chair. He had no objections to it...that memory from Dumbledore...

"He's fourteen! Don't be ridiculous! Make him take his seat!" Fudge ordered.

"So you have decided that Wizarding law and a minor Heir's rights may be trampled on if you object to him?" Burke continued. "For I see no other reason to convene this august body for a small offense other than to satisfy a grudge. There has already been an illegal attempt to expel Heir Potter."

Murmuring started in the gallery. So they hadn't known that. Plum-robed Wizengamot members whispered fiercely with one another.

"Silence! Illegal?!" Fudge sputtered. "The Ministry—"

"Has no jurisdiction over Hogwarts." Solicitor Burke interrupted. "So yes, the notice Mr. Potter received was illegally sent. One does not have one's

wand snapped for self defense."

"The boy is lying. Has been all summer. You've seen the Prophet." Fudge blustered.

"Minister Fudge, are you making a public declaration that my client, Heir Potter of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, is a liar?" Burke smiled in a way that reminded Harry of sharks and other predators with a lot of teeth.

"Of course I am! Everyone knows he is!"

"Heir Potter, have you spoken to any reporters this Summer?" Burke turned to him. "Stand and speak clearly, please."

"No, sir." Harry stood and answered as clearly as he could. "I was away from the Wizarding World with my family this Summer. I haven't even seen the Prophet since we only got Muggle papers there. No one has asked me anything, either."

The murmuring began again. Harry caught a few mutters of 'What is Fudge thinking?' and 'Could the boy be speaking the truth?' and 'This is an outrage! He is an heir!'

"Thank you, Heir Potter. How could Heir Potter be lying, Minister, when he hasn't issued any kind of statement? Would you wish to amend your previous statement?" Burke seemed to be enjoying himself.

"No. The boy has proved himself a liar." Fudge drew himself up as much as he was able. "He has been accused and will answer the court."

"Yes, Minister. The charge is underage magic before a Muggle? Yes?"

"Of course it is. You received a copy of the notice."

"Unfortunately, Minister, the 'Muggle' in question is actually a squib. I believe the file for this trial contains this updated status. And, Minister, even if he were still a Muggle, he was previously listed as a Knowing Muggle. Young Mr. Evans knows about magic and always has."

Harry slanted a look at Dudley...Evans? Dudley shrugged back. He'd have to ask later.

"Hem hem." A witch in pink robes, seated next to the Minister, interrupted. "Then it was in front of other Muggles. He used magic underage in the Muggle world. Muggles have to have seen."

"Mr. Evans, would you like to explain where you were when you were attacked?" Burke turned to him. "Please stand and address the Wizengamot."

"My cousin and I were in an alley. We'd, er, we'd had an argument and I chased him there. We were alone in the alley. We were still arguing when the ground frosted over and Harry tried to get me to run. I couldn't move and I couldn't think about anything but everything awful that ever happened. He pulled his wand out and yelled, er, I may get this wrong, but I think it was something like 'expecto patronum'? It was after that that I started feeling warmer. He got me home after that and then he got a letter while he was trying to get my parents to get me chocolate." Dudley explained the evening clearly and concisely. "He only used the one spell and it was to protect us."

More murmuring came from the rows of the Wizengamot.

"I demand a vote on even continuing this farce of a trial. Heir Potter should only have had a hearing with the Department of Education, not a full trial for self defense." A witch demanded from the higher rows before Burke could speak. "This is a ridiculous waste of the Wizengamot's time!"

The rest of the members took up the cry of 'A vote! A vote!' and Harry thought of the Prime Minister's Question Time.

"We must…" Fudge began.

"I second the Dowager Longbottom's demand." A wizard interrupted. "I move for the following vote: ayes will end this and clear Heir Potter's record; nays will have the trial continue."

"Seconded!" and "Thirded!" sounded from the rows.

Harry looked over toward Fudge. He looked as if he wanted to eat his own bowler. The pink-clad witch next to him looked as if she'd bitten into a lemon.

"By the magic that governs this chamber, I call a vote!" An older wizard stood and called.

Harry felt something shift in the magic of the room. A golden tally appeared between the platform and the rows of members.

"All in favor of ending this and clearing Heir Potter?"

Harry watched as lit wands raised all over the chamber. He tried not to crumple his robes in his hands. How many sat on the Wizengamot? Why didn't he know? Did any Muggleborn

know?

"All in favor of continuing?"

Many fewer wands lit. Harry stared hard at the tally. Sixty-five ayes and five nays. Apparently common sense and a solicitor who wouldn't give up could derail everything.

"The ayes have it. This Wizengamot trial is concluded and Heir Potter's record is cleared. Heir Potter, you're free to go with a sincere apology from this chamber."

"Stand and bow to the assembly." Burke hissed.

Harry did as he'd been told. As soon as he straightened up, Aunt Petunia swept them out of the courtroom, trailing lawyers and him and Dudley like somewhat untidy tugboats after a yacht. She went straight up to the atrium, cutting through the crowds like a battle cruiser.

Harry followed in a haze of shock. She'd done it. She'd really done it. For the first time in ages, he thought perhaps things would turn out right. Dimly, he heard 'Mrs. Dursley! Ms. Evans! Damn it all, Steward Potter!' in Fudge's obsequious tones.

Aunt Petunia stopped short. Dudley hauled him around so they didn't crash into the lawyers. Minister Fudge, out of his official robes, struggled through the crowd after them. Madam Pink struggled after him. Percy Weasley, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else than there, followed her, although people got out of his way.

He shot Harry an apologetic sort of look.

"Steward Potter, I, uh, I do hope this little misunderstanding won't damage relations between House Potter and the Ministry." Fudge twisted his hands.

"Considering, Minister, that when I reached out to your office to clear all this up weeks ago I was told that you would never have time in your schedule for a jumped up embarrassment to the world of Magic and if I wrote or Flooed again I would be prosecuted, I don't think we have anything else to say. Any further communication from the Ministry to House Potter shall be routed through my solicitor's office." Aunt Petunia used that peculiarly penetrating tone she'd developed for passing information to prying ears on other doorsteps. Harry had a feeling the exchange would be all over the Ministry in minutes. "Good day. Come boys, or we shall be late."

And she swept off for the bank of lifts. Harry followed, still a bit dazed. Aunt Petunia apparently had a set of brass ones. He followed her into the lift, not wanting to ask questions just yet. She seemed a bit tetchy. They snagged a lift to themselves and Harry couldn't hold back.

"Thank you, Aunt Petunia."

"I only did what any competent adult ought to have done for you." Her tone put paid to any further appreciation.

"Where are we going?"

Dudley booted him in the ankle.

"We have an appointment with the head of the DMLE. I wrote a few weeks ago regarding your godfather's trial transcript. Director Bones wished to see us." Aunt Petunia explained. "And here's our stop."

Everyone trailed Aunt Petunia out of the lift. Harry looked around. He'd never been on the DMLE floor before. It looked, despite the memos zipping about (Aunt Petunia rolled her eyes and muttered something), like any other office building he'd seen. Plain plaster walls held notices (although these said things like 'Absolutely no automated inkpots beyond this point') and the occasional crooked print.

They passed by what looked like a warren of desks, red-robes figures wandering between them with stacks of parchment. One exasperated young person was trying to catch a small dragon circling overhead, setting fire to paperwork with small jets of flame. A group of clockwork penguins waddled by, one swallowing a memo like a fish, and Harry heard 'Damnit, Hawley! Go round up the penguins! They've only got loose again!'

Aunt Petunia sniffed and turned down a corridor. Soon, they came to a door with DMLE Director's Office in gilt on the window. The door opened to admit them without anyone touching the handle. Aunt Petunia forged ahead, bringing the whole lot of them into the waiting area. Once in, the door shut behind them. Silence reigned.

"Oh, hullo! You must be Steward Potter and...goodness, quite a party." A tall woman with a monocle in one eye stepped out

of the office. She wore a shirt (with stiff collar and Hufflepuff house tie), tweedy waistcoat, and matching trousers. Harry thought he'd last seen her clothes in one of those 1930s things Aunt Petunia liked so much. Poirot, maybe. She had the shortest hair he'd ever seen on a witch.

He liked her immediately.

"I'm Director Bones. I so appreciate you writing, Steward Potter. Would you all step through? The silencing runes sometimes fail and, well, you came past the pen." She opened the door wider and moved out of the way, stopping only to shake hands with Aunt Petunia, who de-iced fractionally at the warm smile.

"The penguins had got out again," Harry told her as he passed.

"Oh...blast it." Bones looked as if she wanted to say something else. "I told Horsfrithers they needed to be secured six times yesterday. Don't even know why we're the ones holding them. Right, everyone in?"

They managed to find seats across from the massive desk covered in stacks of parchment. Bones sifted through stacks before coming up with one.

"Now, Steward Potter, you've upended a fine kettle of fish all over the department. My assistant actually quit when we realized what had happened."

"And what, precisely, happened?" Aunt Petunia asked.

"Sirius Black was never tried. We have an intake form and a transfer form and nothing else. I'll be briefing the Minister this afternoon and having the Kiss on Sight order revoked. After that, the DMLE will ask his lordship to attend a special Meet of the Wizengamot." Bones explained. "He'll be tried then."

Harry stared, his heart beating in his ears. They'd left the absence of a paper trail. They had some small bit of proof. Sirius...Sirius could be free.

Aunt Petunia opened her mouth to speak but the other lawyer beat her to it.

"And if he is found innocent? If that's the case, Director Bones, then there will be a great deal of trouble." He looked like he might not mind it.

"I know, Hadwell. We're preparing for that and for the mother of all recompense. The DMLE, is, of course. I'm on my fourth attempt to get this through to Fudge."

"And for everyone with a relative in Azkaban to challenge their sentencing?" Hadwell asked.

"Oh. Yes, that." She looked tired. "We pulled all court records for all prisoners. It was just his lordship who was...slipped through. Now, do you have any questions?"

"Will you send notice of the trial date?" Aunt Petunia asked, her hands clasped tight in her lap.

"We'll send it through Burke and Hadwell, madam. And don't worry. I'll ensure Fudge complies with the law."

Harry had no doubt she would.

"Thank you, Director Bones, for your time today, and for searching court records. I had hoped to provide some closure for Harry, but I suppose we'll have to wait." Aunt Petunia looked almost demure.

"I'll have someone keep you apprised of what's happening, madam. Please don't hesitate to write or Floo if you have further questions for me."

Harry watched as they shook hands again and slipped out the door with Dudley. Director Bones seemed to want a moment to reassure Aunt Petunia again.

"That the mental godfather you threatened us with?" Dudley knocked their shoulders together.

"Yeah." Harry managed, still stunned. "I didn't think...your mum…"

"Ugh. Mum's flirting with Bones. First Snape and now this." Dudley complained.

"Wait, what?" Harry squeaked. "They...what?!"

"Oh yes," Dudley smirked at him. "He came over so he and mum could shout at each other about you and how they treated you and I think they were flirting at the end. Anyway, I went back upstairs. But ever since...well...Mum and Dad aren't getting back together. Ever. Mum's been...I dunno."

Harry tried not to make a face, but the thought...disgusting. "Is she…"

"She'll be fine, especially if she gets to shout at a few more magicals. That bint in pink was the one who was so rude to her. Senior Undersecretary she calls herself."

That sparked something. Harry ducked back into the inner office and ignored Bones kissing Aunt Petunia's knuckles.

"Er, if you need an assistant you should poach Percy

Weasley. I don't think he's happy and he's brilliant at organizing things." It came out in a rush and he ducked back out.

Dudley just looked at him and shook his head. "There's a whole book series about you being a heroic little berk, did you know? Suppose they aren't that far off."