Guilty Until Proven Innocent. // Invites. //

"Merlin's Beard" yelped Mr. Weasley, grabbing Harry by the upper arm and yanking him up from the chair he had been frozen in.  "It's ok Harry, Amelia Bone's office is right down the hall.  You'll be there in one minute."  Perkins, who had finally managed to straighten himself up and breathe at a relatively normal pace, gave a squeak of panic.  "They've changed the location too!  Down in courtroom ten now!"  "Courtroom ten" Mr. Weasley repeated in awe.  "But that's"-  He broke off, apparently noticing Harry's ashen complexion.  "Come on Harry" he shouted, as though for all the world it had been Harry's idea to stand around lollygagging while time ticked away.

The pair of them tore through the hallways at a breakneck speed.  Twice, Mr. Weasley almost knocked another witch or wizard off their feet and had to throw a hasty apology over his shoulder without slowing.  "Mr. Weasley" Harry gasped, clutching a stich in his side as they ran.  "What will happen because I'm late?"  "Best not to dwell on that Harry" was Mr. Weasley's very unhelpful answer as they stepped into the elevator once more and began the descent.

When the elevator spit them out on the lowest level, Mr. Weasley gave a nervous cough, and nudged Harry forward.  "Never been down here before.  Courtroom ten is just up there on the left I think.  Well...good luck Harry."  Harry felt a chill that had nothing to do with the sudden unnatural drop in temperature that seemed to be emanating from the hallway itself.  "Aren't...aren't you coming in with me?"  He hadn't admitted it out loud, but the idea of at least one person being on his side had been all that was keeping him from losing complete control of his legs and collapsing.  He felt them wobble slightly as Mr. Weasley replied kindly, "I'm afraid I'm not allowed in.  But I'll be right here when it's done.  Go on."  He gave Harry yet another gentle prod in the back, urging him towards the pair of heavy black doors.

Harry took a deep breath, opened the door, and entered.  

Fudge did not seem to share Harry's relief.  As the tall, elderly wizard strode with purpose into the courtroom, all the color left Fudge's face.  He was now the sickly grey color of old porridge.  "Dumbledore" he managed to say at last.  "You...er, got our message that the time and place of the hearing had been changed?"  "I must have missed it" Dumbledore replied kindly.  "Though by a happy mistake I arrived at the ministry three hours early."  Harry, now knowing why the time of his hearing had been changed, wondered how Fudge could have ever thought that he could slip something past Dumbledore.  The man seemed to know everything.

"Alright" Fudge replied with an air of annoyance.  "Well, we are here today to discuss Mr. Potter's illegal magical actions on the second of august."  Fudge, still obviously thrown by Dumbledore's appearance, shuffled around his notes, nearly dropping them all.  He looked down at Harry, who nearly missed realizing he was being looked at, since he was trying to catch Dumbledore's eye.  He'd been trying since the headmaster entered the courtroom.  But Dumbledore was looking forward at the minister, his hands folded, calmly waiting for Fudge to speak again.  "You are Harry James Potter of number four privet drive" Fudge addressed Harry.  "Yes."  Harry flicked his eyes from Fudge back to Dumbledore.  All his fear and anxiety had vanished with the presence of Dumbledore, but they were replaced now with a growing impatience.  At the first sight of Dumbledore, he had been filled with relief and happiness but now he was slowly reverting to his feelings of resentment that had been building all summer.

"You received an official warning from the ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, is that correct?"  That was hardly fair, seeing as how it had been Dobby levitating some pudding over his aunt and uncle's guest and all Harry had to do with it was that he hadn't promised to stay away from Hogwarts like Dobby had begged, but there was no other answer he could give, except, "yes, but"-  Fudge did not let him finish.  "And yet you conjured a patronus on the night in question?"  "Yes" said Harry again.  "But"-  And again, Fudge did not let him finish.  "Knowing full well that you are not allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts while you are under the age of 17?"  "Yes, but"-  "Knowing that you were in a town full of muggles?"  "Yes, but"-  "Knowing you were in close proximity to a muggle at the very time of the conjuring?"  "Yes" Harry said angrily for sixth time, wondering why on earth Dumbledore, his supposed attorney, wasn't jumping in to help.  "But I only used it because we were"-

"You produced a fully fledged patronus?"  Someone other than Fudge was speaking for the first time.  An impressively tall woman with a monocle a few rows over was leaning forward, scrutinizing Harry intensely.  "Yes.  Because"-  "A corporeal patronus?"  "A...a what?"  Harry was momentarily thrown off his quest to get the word dementor into the sentence by the use of a phrase he'd never heard.  "Your patronus had a clearly defined shape?  It was more than just silver vapor?"  "Yes" Harry confirmed, reaching a point of desperation.  "It's a stag.  It's always a stag."  "Always??"  Madam Bones straitened up, her booming voice filled with wonderment.  "You mean to say you've conjured one before now?"  "Yes.  For over a year now.  Professor Lupin taught me at school because of the"-  So close to getting out what he wanted to say, he felt nearly on the verge of frustrated tears when Madam Bones interrupted yet again, even though her words were "that's very impressive" and not anything nasty. 

"It doesn't matter how impressive the magic was" Fudge retorted, taking control of the hearing again.  "He used magic in front of a muggle!  That's-"  But Harry had heard enough.  "I did it because of the dementors" he interrupted loudly, looking straight at Fudge.  He wasn't sure what exactly he was expecting as a reaction but Fudge's unpleasant smile was not at the top of his list.  "Yes" he said rather quietly, nodding along as though Harry was unstable and the only way to quell this was to pretend to agree.  "Yes, I thought you might have come up with a clever little cover like this."  "Dementors in Little Whinging?"  The monocoled witch looked from Harry to Fudge, both of whom had not broken eye contact with each other yet.  "I don't understand."  "The boy is smart Amelia" Fudge informed her without moving his eyes from Harry's, who felt his spine bristle at being called "the boy".  "A town full of muggles...no witnesses to back up his story."

Dumbledore, who had drawn himself up a chair and was relaxing silently in it, cleared his throat and rose to his feet.  His blue eyes twinkled as he addressed Fudge, who once again had lost most of his color.

"As a matter of fact Minister...we do have a witness."