Chapter V: Aftermath: The Trail

The next morning Harry woke up in a Ministry holding cell. The bed beneath him was nothing but a hard slab with a thin mattress. The air was damp. Harry was used to sleeping in less than perfect conditions in the three years he travelled around the world. He sat straight and started meditating to put his mind at ease.

He was pulled from his meditative state by the sound of footsteps in the corridor. He sat up straight, and within a few moments a young man dressed in Auror robes stood on the other side of the door made of iron bars. He looked like he was just out of Hogwarts.

“Hi, I am Trainee-Auror Frank Longbottom” he said with a small smile.

Harry schooled his expression, though his heart clenched at the sight of Neville’s father strong & unbroken. He resolved that in this timeline Neville will grow up with both his parents doting on him.

He stood silently for a few moments, with an unreadable expression. “Harry Peverell,” he said, “That’s your name”

Harry tilted his head slightly. "Yes, that's me!"

Frank hummed. "Strange. A month ago, you were found unconscious in the forbidden forest with severe magical exhaustion. You refused to give your name at the hospital when you woke up three days later, then you vanished before being discharged properly, avoiding being interrogated by the Aurors on how you came to be in the Forbidden forest in such a state. Now here you are, in the DMLE holding cell for killing eight wizards and maintaining that you killed them defending Muggles."

Harry met his gaze steadily. "So, what’s the problem? That I fought? Or that I fought to protect Muggles?"

Frank exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "The problem is the Ministry doesn’t like loose ends. And you, Mr. Peverell, are turning out to be quite the mystery."

Harry resisted the urge to smirk. Instead, he leaned back slightly. "I had my reasons for leaving the hospital. None of which involved any ill intent. I assure you. As for last night, Luckily or unluckily I was winding down in the same pub some idiots decided to play terrorist. I did what needed to be done."

Frank held his gaze for a few moments before nodding. "I saw the scene myself. You were clearly outnumbered, and you could have easily walked away leaving the muggles to their fate. Yet you didn’t. You killed eight wizards, destroyed nearly half of the pub, yet most of the muggles are unharmed. It’s not the work of a killer.”

Harry smiled.

Frank stepped closer and spoke in a low voice. "Look, I came here to warn you. The families of the dead wizards are well connected within the Ministry. I’ve heard a rumour that an emergency meeting of the Wizengamot is being called today. They might try to convict you of murder.”

Harry’s jaw tightened. "They want to send me to Azkaban for the crime of defending myself and muggles?"

Frank nodded grimly. "Too many of the dead were high-profile. Rodolphus Lestrange was an heir to an old and wealthy family. Most of the others too were from well connected pure blood families. If the Ministry admits that a group of pure bloods were dressing up in weird robes, calling themselves Death Eaters and openly slaughtering Muggles, there will be panic and people will ask for accountability. That’s not a conversation the ones in power at the Ministry wants to have."

Harry absorbed the information, his mind already working through the implications. This is how a small group of idiots were able to terrorize an entire country. Those in power keep turning a blind eye, when they realise what’s happening and get their act together, it will be too late.

Frank sighed. "For whatever it's worth, I don’t believe their version of yesterday’s event. Be careful Peverell. You’ve made powerful enemies last night. Some of them within the Ministry."

Harry nodded, his voice quiet but firm. "I understand."

Frank turned back. "You’ll be interrogated in front of the Wizengamot soon. Make sure you choose your words wisely. You are lucky the Auror response team was headed by Moody. He’s honest to a fault. Make sure your version of events stays close to his" With that, he walked away.

Harry was actually not surprised in the least. He knew the Ministry was filled with the corrupt and spineless. The second wizarding war would have gone a lot differently if the Ministry was half decent.

-----

Albus Dumbledore sat behind his claw-footed desk in the Hogwarts headmaster’s office, he wore half-moon spectacles as he reviewed the reports from the Heads of Houses. The reports detailed the progress and concerns of students.

He was interrupted as his fireplace roared to life. The friend and Auror Alastor Moody’s face appeared in the flames.

“Albus,” Moody greeted in a gruff tone. “We need to talk.”

Dumbledore set aside the parchment in his hands and said. “Come in, Alastor.”

With a rush of green flames, Moody stepped into the office. He dusting off his robes and stood with a grave expression. Dumbledore offered a chair, but Moody chose to stand.

“Something happened last night,” Moody began. “A major incident.”

Dumbledore listened intently as Moody narrated. The Aurors had detected an intense spell fire in a Muggle area. Moody apparated to the location with a small quick response force, expecting to land in the middle of a battle. But they were late.

“That place was a war zone,” Moody said grimly. “There were bodies everywhere, eight dead wizards. They were not just killed, they were taken down with extreme prejudice. We’re talking about fully trained fighters, Albus. Not some overconfident thugs. And the Muggles were terrified, but most of them completely unharmed behind a shield, stronger than any shield I have ever seen. It took five Aurors working together to bring it down and get to the muggles.

Dumbledore frowned as he absorbed the information. “Were you able to catch the wizards or witches responsible?”

Moody looked at him straight in the eye and spoke. “A single wizard. Young and confident, but he surrendered without a fight.”

That made Dumbledore sit up a little straighter. “Surrendered?”

“Aye,” Moody confirmed. “Didn’t even resist. Said that he acted in defence of the Muggles and was willing to share his memories without being asked.”

Dumbledore’s brows furrowed. That was…unexpected. That spoke of either remarkable arrogance or unwavering conviction. Perhaps both. “Who is he?” Dumbledore asked

Moody exhaled, “I have never seen or heard of him before. His name is Harry Peverell.”

Dumbledore’s blood ran cold. The Peverell’s were the original owners of the Deathly Hallows. Most people assume it to be children's tales, but Dumbledore knew better. After all, he owns one of the hallows.

And now, a man claiming the name Peverell had emerged from nowhere, he was powerful enough to take down eight Death Eaters alone, and also skilled enough to erect shields that even veteran Aurors struggled to dismantle.

Moody reached into his robes and pulled out a small glass vial containing silvery mist. “This contains a copy of the memories he shared. You should watch it.” He placed the vial on the desk before stepping back

Dumbledore nodded slowly. “Thank you, Alastor. This is…most intriguing.”

Moody grunted. “The Ministry’ is moving to sweep this whole thing under the rug. They don’t like the idea of someone slaughtering pureblood wizards, They do not even want to acknowledge that Death Eaters exist. Keep your eyes open, Albus.”

With that Moody turned, stepped back into the Floo and vanished.

For a long moment, Dumbledore simply sat there, fingers tapping lightly against his desk. Then, he stood, made his way to the Pensive. He poured the memory into the stone basin and leaned inside.

The scene unfolded before him. He watched young Peverell dance around the death eaters like a cat playing with mice. He was unsettled.

He was dangerous, undeniably so. But he also cared about muggles enough to put himself in harm's way. Dumbledore let out a slow breath as the memories ended and he was back in his office. He was no ordinary wizard. He was powerful, skilled, and had no fear of fighting alone.

But was he good? That remained to be seen.

Dumbledore turned back to his desk, focusing on two pressing matters. The first and the most important one. Tom Riddle’s followers were growing bolder and more violent. War was no longer just a possibility, it had started already. And the second, he needed to learn more about Harry Peverell. Perhaps even guide him if his intentions were noble, he could become a powerful ally.

But if not… Dumbledore’s eyes darkened. He had no intention of allowing another evil force to rise unchecked.

-----

As the clock struck 10, owls started reaching every member of the Wizengamot in Britain, informing them of an emergency meeting scheduled at 11.30 the same day.

-----

At precisely 11:30 a.m, Harry Peverell was led into Courtroom 10 by two Aurors. The chamber was vast, Harry recognized this hall from the summer before his fifth year. The members of the Wizengamot sat in their high-backed chairs, wearing their ridiculous purple hats.

John Urquart and another Auror Harry didn’t recognize shoved him into the large central chair, their expressions filled with barely concealed contempt. They clamped his wrists with heavy iron cuffs. Harry felt the cuffs suppressing his magic.

Before him, three figures sat elevated above the rest. One of them sat even higher than the others, she was a stern-looking witch with greying hair. She must be the Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold. To her left sat a healthier looking Barty Crouch Sr, a stark contrast to the broken man Harry had seen in his fourth-year Pensieve memories. On her right, Albus Dumbledore sat on the Chief Warlock’s seat, he was watching Harry with an unreadable expression.

Minister Bagnold cleared her throat. "The Wizengamot has gathered today to determine the guilt of Harry Peverell for the unprovoked murder of eight upstanding wizards. All of his victims hailed from respectable pureblood families. They were brutally slain by Mr. Peverell before Aurors arrived. Among the deceased is the heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange."

A wave of angry murmurs and shouts erupted across the chamber. Several Wizengamot members rose from their seats, demanding immediate justice.

"Let the Dementors kiss him now! Why wait?" one voice roared.

"Throw him into the Veil!" another bellowed.

Harry’s gaze sweeping the room, not caring about the chaos unfolding around him. In the middle of all the outrage, he noticed a small group of members who were not angry and remained calm. Interesting.

"Silence," Dumbledore said with authority. The uproar ceased instantly.

Bagnold turned back to Harry. "Mr. Peverell, how do you plead?"

Harry met her gaze and, and responded in an almost casual tone, "Not guilty."

The room exploded once more. Reinhard Lestrange, father of the deceased Rodolphus, shot up in fury. "This trial is a waste of time and every moment wasted is an insult to the dead! The evidence is overwhelming! Throw him into the Veil this instant!"

More than half the chamber roared in agreement.

Barty Crouch Sr. spoke over the loud noise. "The court will hear the first witness testimony. Auror Urquart, please take the witness stand."

John Urquart stepped forward and began his account of the previous day’s events. "We detected an intense spell-fire with illegal and dark curses in a Muggle area. I was part of the quick response team dispatched to investigate. We expected to arrive in the middle of a battle, instead we apparated in to find multiple wizards massacred. The suspect, Peverell, stood in the middle of a destroyed pub, looking like a madman. Dead bodies were strewn everywhere. He surrendered without resistance and openly admitted to killing all eight wizards, as if he was proud of it. We immediately placed him under arrest and transported him to the DMLE."

"You may step down, Auror Urquart," Barty Crouch Sr. said.

Furious murmurs filled the chamber. Bagnold continued grimly, "That aligns with the reports from the rest of the quick response team and the investigating team. I believe we have sufficient evidence to convict—"

Harry laughed.

The sound echoed through the courtroom, Bagnold halted mid-sentence. The members of the Wizengamot gaped at him in shock with outraged expression.

"So," Harry said evenly, "Is this even a trial? Do you even intend to ask me any questions? Do you care about my side of the events? If that’s the case, then by law I’m free to leave."

Bagnold’s expression darkened. "Do not speak out of turn! You will only speak when you are addressed!" she snapped.

Before she could continue, another voice cut through the chamber.

"Minister."

Arcturus Black had risen from his seat, his sharp gaze locked onto Bagnold. "Mr. Peverell is correct. You cannot declare a verdict without conducting a proper trial. Either follow proper procedure or release him."

The hall fell into tense silence. Some members of the dark faction Lestrange, Mulciber, Rowle, and Carrow shot furious glares at Black, but most remained silent. They were not brave or stupid enough to make an enemy of Black.

Harry was surprised the Black Patriarch is supporting him, probably because of Bellatrix he mused.

Another wizard Fleamont Potter stood and addressed Bagnold in a tone that a parent used on an errant child. "Minister, you are already circumventing the law by holding this trial without proper notice. I only learned of this trial an hour ago. The incident happened last night, and you want to convict Mr. Peverell before the sun sets today. Why the rush? If your case is airtight, why not follow due process?" It warmed Harry’s heart to see a family member stand up for him, even if the member did not know that he was family. He had never experienced that with the Dursleys.

The members who were previously outraged now looked uncertain.

Then came a sharp voice filled with barely concealed anger. "I wish it were that simple, Potter! The murder of a wizard is repugnant enough, let alone eight! And they weren’t just any wizards. They were members of noble and ancient families, one of them is the heir to the Most Noble House of Lestrange. We cannot rest while their murderer walks free!" Caradoc Avery shouted. "This is serious! We cannot let it stand!"

Stanley Bones, a frail old man, stood next. "And that is precisely why we must be thorough. If we rush a conviction, the real culprit might escape while an innocent man is punished."

Avery clenched his fists and sat down without a response.

Bagnold looked like she had swallowed something disgusting. She turned to Dumbledore. "Chief Warlock, do you have anything to add?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Justice must be served, Minister. Without due process, it is not justice. I suggest we hear Mr. Peverell's account of yesterday's events."

Bagnold gave a reluctant nod. "Very well. Mr. Peverell, explain what happened yesterday."

Harry exhaled slowly. "I went to the pub for a drink. The eight men you call victims were anything but. They barged in wearing black robes and silver masks. One of them fired a spell at the Muggles. I raised a shield to protect them, they attacked me in response with dark spells. Stunning wasn’t an option for me as I was badly outnumbered, so I took them down with blasting, cutting, and banishing spells while they continued to hurl dark curses at me."

"You expect us to believe you defeated eight wizards without using dark magic?" an old wizard scoffed.

Harry turned to him. "That’s exactly what happened. Auror Urquart said the DMLE detected dark magic, correct?" He smirked. "It wasn’t me, it was them."

"Lies!" Reinhard Lestrange bellowed. "How dare you accuse my son of using dark magic?"

Another wizard sneered, "A lowly excuse for a wizard like you has no right to accuse the heirs of pureblood families!"

Harry leaned back in his chair. "Interesting. So status determines guilt now? Well, in that case..." He willed his Peverell ring to become visible and let his magic surge. The suppressing cuffs glowed red, looking ready to snap at any moment.

Silence fell over the chamber. If someone had dropped a hypothetical pin, the noise would have echoed throughout the hall.

Dumbledore felt the Elder Wand vibrate with a low hum. Before things could escalate, he said. "Let us focus on the facts."

Harry smirked slightly, the cuffs dimmed back to silver. "I wish to call Auror Alastor Moody as a witness."

"You do not have the authority to call witnesses," Bagnold snapped.

Before Harry could reply, Dumbledore spoke. "Auror Moody, step forward." His voice authoritative. He rarely used his authority, but this situation demanded it.

Millicent Bagnold was furious at being overruled, but she held her tongue.

Moody took the stand and gave a clear explanation on what happened until Peverell’s surrender. Then he continued "After Mr Peverell surrendered, he gave us his wand and voluntarily provided his memory of the battle. From the wreckage of the pub, we recovered five intact wands and two broken wands, but we were not able to find the wand of one wizard. Priori Incantatem on the intact wands revealed dark spells on all five. Peverell’s wand was clean."

Arcturus Black’s eyes narrowed. "If he provided his memory, why haven’t we seen it yet?"

A tense pause. Then, under pressure, Barty Crouch Sr allowed the memory to be played in a modified pensieve which projected the memory above it. The room watched in stunned silence as Harry methodically destroyed his attackers.

No one objected to Harry’s innocence after that. Within the next ten minutes Harry was declared innocent of murder and the Chief Warlock ended the session.