Harry Potter: The Angel of Death C35 (Patreon)

Chapter 35: The Trial Part III

The chamber erupted into chaos as members of the Wizengamot immediately began arguing among themselves, some summoning aides to fetch copies of the cited book while others leaned toward their neighbors and exchanged increasingly concerned whispers.

Crowley had managed to transform a discussion about whether a thirteen-year-old boy should be permitted to live independently into a debate about ancient noble rights, inheritance traditions, and the legal foundations upon which much of wizarding Britain's aristocracy still rested.

Across the chamber, Lucius Malfoy looked less irritated than he did worried, which Harry found immensely satisfying. Malfoy was not concerned about Harry obtaining his independence; his position on that matter had effectively been settled days ago, his support secured through a series of very Slytherin negotiations, aka blackmail. No, what worried him was something far larger than Harry Potter. What worried him were the long-term consequences this discussion could have for wizarding society as a whole.

If the traditionalists accepted the law, then Harry would almost certainly gain the support of roughly a third of the Wizengamot, enough to place victory firmly within reach. The problem was that doing so would drag a great deal of attention toward the ancient laws governing noble houses and their privileges. Every newspaper in Britain would write about it, journalists would begin digging into centuries-old statutes and ordinary witches and wizards would start asking uncomfortable questions. Most of wizarding Britain was made of commoners, roughtly 99 per cent of it, and they would react very poorly upon discovering just how many advantages, exemptions, and protections the old houses continued to enjoy.

Until now those privileges had remained largely out of public discussion. They were not secret, not hidden, but neither were they openly advertised. Most ordinary citizens either ignored their existence or assumed they no longer mattered, preferring to believe that modern wizarding Britain was considerably fairer and more progressive than it actually was. The system's flaws were usually blamed on Ministry corruption, something many people acknowledged with a shrug and a roll of the eyes. Corruption was unfortunate, certainly, but it was also familiar: every government had some degree of it. People complained about it while accepting it as an unavoidable fact of life.

The deeper structural inequalities built into the legal system itself, however, were another matter entirely.

In truth, there was little anyone could do about it now, the ball was already rolling. By tomorrow, all of wizarding Britain would know about that ancient charter and the privileges attached to noble status. The defeated expressions appearing on the faces of Malfoy and several other traditionalists made it obvious they had already reached the same conclusion. With a trial this public and this popular, hiding those privileges was no longer an option.

And that created an entirely different danger.

If Harry obtained his emancipation through those laws and something happened to him afterward—if he was injured, kidnapped, or killed—then the same laws that had granted him freedom would almost certainly become the target of public outrage. Politicians, activists, journalists, and grieving citizens would descend upon them like vultures, demanding reforms, restrictions, or outright abolition.

Yet if the traditionalists chose to oppose the law instead, they would be forced to undermine the very traditions they had spent their entire careers defending. They would be declaring that ancient charters, hereditary rights, and noble privileges only mattered when convenient and could be ignored whenever they produced an undesirable outcome.

It was, Harry reflected, a thoroughly miserable position to be in.

Whichever path they chose, they lost something.

Scrimgeor rose to his feet with a thoughtful expression. He did not seem particularly interested in the argument about noble privileges; instead, he was more concerned with finding a flaw in his opponent’s position.

“Mr. Crowley raises an interesting point,” he admitted. 

After Amelia Bones silenced the chamber, the auror continued: 

“However,” He said. “His argument relies upon a premise which may itself be flawed.” 

Several people leaned forward. 

“House Potter is no longer a noble house.” 

A few people nodded, while others looked delighted by that information. 

"There can be no invocation of rights belonging to an endangered noble house if the house in question no longer possesses noble status." He said, looking at the council. "The Potters lost their position among the Sacred Twenty-Eight nearly a century ago." 

Several more people nodded, it was common knowledge among the nobility what had happened with Henry Potter at the beginning of the century. Lord Potter had made quite the fuss when his petition to aid the Muggles during the war was denied, and those who had disliked House Potter for a while used that to finally get rid of them, initiating a move to remove them from their seat of power. 

"Their status as an Ancient and Noble House effectively ceased alongside it." Finished Scrimgeour. 

Harry looked at Crowley, who did not look remotely concerned; if anything, he seemed amused, which tends to be a bad sign for whoever happens to be arguing against him. If he were to be honest, Harry would admit just how surprised he is by how great everything is progressing thus far. Crowley had prepared for every possible argument used against them, having an out for every situation the opposition could get them into. Hiring him remains to this day the best decision he has made. 

"My learned colleague," he said pleasantly, "has made a rather common mistake."

Several traditionalists visibly winced; they likely knew what was coming. Scrimgeour proved to be good at his thing; all his arguments had been solid and reasonable, but while prepared, it would seem he wasn’t as familiar with aristocracy. 

"The Sacred Twenty-Eight and noble status are not the same thing," Crowley said. "House Potter did indeed lose its position among the Sacred Twenty-Eight as well as its designation as an Ancient House, but neither of those events removed its noble status."ç

Scrimgeour frowned, and Crowley smiled at him condescenditly. 

“These are three separate legal classifications.” He said, sounding like a professor explaining something painfully obvious to students who should know better.

“Ancient House.”

He raised one finger.

“Noble House.”

A second finger.

“Sacred Twenty-Eight.”

A third.

"The fact they frequently overlap has caused generations of politicians to mistakenly believe they are interchangeable."

Harry saw several Ministry officials look away or clear their throats. 

"The laws governing noble status predate the Sacred Twenty-Eight by several centuries," Crowley continued. "And unlike membership within that list, noble recognition cannot simply disappear because a group of influential families decide they dislike someone."

A few chuckles spread through portions of the chamber, mostly coming from the audience. Crowley smiled at the audience for a moment before reaching into his briefcase once more, taking several old looking books and parchments. 

“The Ancestral Recognition Act, created in 537 and still valid to this day.

He showed a book. 

"The Nobility Preservation Charter."

And finally showed another book. 

"The Peerage Confirmation Proceedings of 1732."

He gave them to Madam Bones who set them aside as proof for the case. 

"According to the ancestral laws of magical Britain," Crowley said calmly, "for a noble house to lose noble status, specific legal proceedings must occur. None of whom ever happened to House Potter."

He looked around the room. 

"What occurred nearly a century ago was political." He explained, looking at the audience and the press members. “The Potters lost influence, they lost standing among certain traditionalist cicles and several of their enemies attack them at thier lowest. "They ceased being counted among the Sacred Twenty-Eight and hey ceased being classified as an Ancient House."

Crowley smiled once more. 

"But no one ever bothered completing the paperwork required to strip them of noble status."

A snort escaped somewhere behind Harry and several others followed soon, even Harry had a smirk in his face. After all the grand legal arguments and political maneuverings taken place to destroy House Potter, at the end of the day those scheming aristocrats forgot to complete the paperwork.  Bureaucratic incompetence at its finnest. 

Lord Greengrass was rubbing his forehead, looking ashamed in the name of his ancestors. Augusta Longbottom was covering her face with a handkerchief, several traditionalists, including Lucius Malfoy, looked like they wanted to strange someone, possibly their ancestors. 

Crowley spread his hands.

"Therefore, House Potter remains, legally speaking, a noble house." He said. "And as a noble house, it remains entitled to every protection, privilege, and right attached to that status."

After a few moments, Amelia Bones rose from her seat.

"The court has been in session for several hours," she announced, her tone leaving little room for argument. "We will break for lunch and reconvene this afternoon."

A collective groan escaped from several members of the Wizengamot. During most trials, a recess was simply a chance to stretch one's legs, eat, and complain about politics over tea, today, however, was a entirely different matter.

"During the recess, Ministry aides will retrieve the relevant statutes, precedents, charters, and historical records referenced during these proceedings."

That announcement received far less enthusiasm. Some members looked eager, already making notes and preparing questions, while others looked horrified, like students forced to do a last-minute essay just after the holidays had been announced. 

Amelia adjusted her monocle.

"I strongly recommend that all members take this opportunity to familiarize themselves with the material."

Several traditionalists sighed, one elderly wizard looked as though he was considering retirement, muttering something about "being too old for this shit".

***

The three-hour recess passed quite quickly. While half the Ministry was running around in a panic attempting to verify centuries-old laws, and the other half was arguing what those laws actually meant and if they should still be valid, Harry spent time with people who cared for him. 

The Ministry cafeteria had been considered for half a second before they all decided that they wanted real food. Crowley informed them that the Ministry had private dining rooms reserved for members of the Wizengamot and important guests, and Harry was part of the “important guest” bit. 

Lunch was very pleasant. Ron spent much of it enthusiastically recounting the chaos that had erupted among the spectators after Crowley invoked the ancient House laws, Hermione alternating between correcting his increasingly outrageous exaggerations and turning to Crowley to pepper him with questions about the legal aspects of the case, while the twins dramatically reenacted various moments from the trial to everyone's amusement, much to Percy's constant disapproval as he repeatedly attempted to correct them, and Ginny simply sat nearby smiling shyly at the spectacle. 

Arthur looked thoroughly delighted by the entire situation, cheerfully declaring that some of those pureblood supremacists were long overdue for a reality check after spending generations convinced the rules did not apply to them. Meanwhile, Molly paid far more attention to the food than the politics, making certain everyone ate properly and keeping a particularly close eye on Harry, whose plate never seemed to stay empty for long despite his repeated insistence that he had already had enough.

Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick joined them shortly after the meal began. Harry had hardly ever seen any of his professors outside of Hogwarts. Both looked oddly hesitant as they approached him. 

“Mr. Potter.” Professor Flitwich spoke first. “I wish to apologize.” 

Harry tilted his head. Professor Flitwick was one of the last people he expected to hear those words from.

“For what?” 

The professor’s expression softened. 

"For not noticing."

Harry stared at him. 

"I have taught children for decades," Flitwick continued. "I pride myself on paying attention to my students, yet somehow I failed to realize what you were enduring before arriving at Hogwarts."

Harry wanted to dismiss it, to tell him that it wasn't his fault, that nobody could have known, but the words died in his mouth. Truth is, people could have known, should have noticed. 

"I share Filius' sentiment." Said Professor McGonagall.

Harry looked toward her. The stern witch who had terrified generations of students looked more tired than he had ever seen her.

"I should have asked more questions.” She admitted. "I noticed you were smaller than many children your age. I noticed certain... peculiar habits regarding food. I noticed how reluctant you were to discuss your home life."

A shadow passed briefly across her face.

"I simply failed to connect those observations."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. Professor McGonagall had always been one of his favourite teachers; she was the Head of his House, the closest thing Gryffindor had to a grandmother, and seeing genuine regret in her eyes felt uncomfortable.

"Professor—"

"No." She shook her head. "You needn't reassure us, Potter."

That earned a small laugh from several people around the table, even Harry smiled.

"However," McGonagall continued, her voice becoming firmer, "while I cannot change what has already happened, you should know that you have my full support moving forward."

Something warm settled in Harry's chest and he smiled at her. Those words meant a lot to him since they came from someone whom he had admired and respected for several years. 

"And mine as well," Flitwick added, smiling at him. "Though I suspect Mr. Crowley would object if I attempted to challenge him for legal representation."

"Violently." Crowley took a sip of coffee. "Most violently."

That earned another round of laughter, tho Harry did not join since he was sure Crowley was not joking.

After that, the trial faded into the background, and they enjoyed lunch together.  

***

After lunch, the hearing resumed.

The members of the Wizengamot returned to their seats while aides distributed copies of several ancient legal texts that had been retrieved from the Ministry archives during the recess, and for nearly twenty minutes, the chamber was mostly silent as witches and wizards cross-referenced statutes, consulted experts, and verified whether Crowley's interpretation of the law was actually correct.

It was.

The council's legal review concluded that the ancient laws regarding endangered noble houses did indeed apply to House Potter. Harry was the sole surviving Potter, his House possessed no secondary heirs, and he remained an active target due to Voldemort's supporters. Whether the members of the Wizengamot liked the law or not was ultimately irrelevant, the law existed and, according to the Ministry's own records, it applied to him.

That conclusion caused another wave of arguments throughout the chamber, though noticeably less heated than before. The debate had shifted from people arguing about whether the laws applied to House Potter to discussing what should actually be done about it.

And that is when Albus Dumbledore finally stood.

The noise in the chamber faded as all eyes turned to the Headmaster of Hogwarts. 

Harry felt his stomach tighten, until now Dumbledore had remained remarkably silent. Both Harry and Crowley had expected him to be the primary opposition throughout the trial. In fact, Crowley had specifically requested that Dumbledore be removed from his position as Chief Warlock for the duration of the proceedings due to the obvious conflict of interest, a request that had been approved by the council, but ever since the trial began Dumbledore had sat in his seat, observing while Rufus Scrimgeour handled most of the arguments against emancipation.

Dumbledore rose from his seat and surveyed the chamber before his gaze settled briefly on Harry.

"Members of the Wizengamot," he began calmly. "I believe we have spent much of today discussing laws, traditions, rights, precedents, and technicalities."

His blue eyes moved across the assembled council.

"Yet amidst all these discussions, I fear we have neglected a far more important consideration. We have spent hours debating what Harry Potter has the legal right to do, while paying considerably less attention to whether granting those rights would actually be in his best interests."

Several members nodded, and Harry immediately knew where this was going.

"Harry Potter is a brave young man," Dumbledore continued. "He is intelligent, capable, and has demonstrated remarkable maturity for his age. None of those facts are in dispute. However, he is also thirteen years old."

The chamber remained silent.

"He is a child who has faced more danger than most adult wizards encounter in an entire lifetime. He has repeatedly risked his life, witnessed death, endured violence, and only weeks ago survived another traumatic confrontation involving Lord Voldemort."

Harry felt dozens of eyes turn toward him.

"Trauma does not disappear simply because one is courageous," Dumbledore said gently. "Nor does intelligence provide immunity against grief, fear, or emotional instability. Children under tremendous stress often make reckless decisions. They seek control where they can find it. They mistake independence for safety."

The old wizard paused.

"And unfortunately, Harry's circumstances are unlikely to improve in the foreseeable future. The world remains dangerous. Voldemort's followers remain active and there are still those who would seek to exploit, manipulate, or harm him. Under such conditions, isolation does not reduce risk. It increases it."

More nods followed.

"Harry Potter requires protection," Dumbledore concluded. "He requires guidance. He requires stability. Most importantly, he requires family."

To everyone's surprise, Crowley nodded in agreement.

"I agree."

The chamber blinked and even Dumbledore himself looked surprised.

Crowley adjusted his sunglasses.

"In fact, I agree completely with Headmaster Dumbledore's assessment."

Now people looked even more confused.

"Mr. Potter has endured severe trauma, he needs support and protection, and most importantly, family."

A crooked, devilish grin flashed on his face.

"The fortunate thing is that such a family already exists."

The chamber immediately stirred with several members leaning forward. Dumbledore frowned and Amelia Bones looked toward Crowley.

"Would the defense care to elaborate?"

"I would be delighted to." Crowley turned toward the assembly. "The individual in question is Harry Potter's godfather."

A wave of curiosity swept through the room. Harry could practically feel people trying to remember who James Potter had named as godfather over a decade ago.

Then Crowley delivered the answer with his smile widening. 

"Sirius Black."

The chamber exploded as dozens of witches and wizards shot to their feet at once. Angry voices echoed throughout the room. Several members began shouting over one another. One elderly wizard nearly dropped his spectacles while another loudly demanded to know whether Crowley had finally lost his mind.

Even Harry was momentarily startled by the sheer intensity of the reaction.

In the eyes of wizarding Britain, Sirius Black was not merely a criminal. He was the man who had betrayed the Potters to Voldemort, murdered Peter Pettigrew and a street full of Muggles, and then laughed amidst the ruins.

“Order!”

She was ignored the first time, so Amelia Bones slammed her hands on the desk as she rose to her feet.

"ORDER!"

Silence finally returned, and Amelia fixed Crowley with a hard stare.

"Mr. Crowley," she said coldly, "I sincerely hope you have a point, because at the moment it appears that you are attempting to place Harry Potter in the custody of a convicted mass murderer and Death Eater."

Crowley blinked, looking at her with almost innocent confusion.

"Convicted?"

Bones frowned.

"Excuse me?"

Crowley tilted his head.

"Convicted." He repeated with a strange smile appearing on his face. "Madam Bones, perhaps you could do me a favor."

The room grew quieter as everyone leaned forward. 

"Please retrieve the records of Sirius Black's trial."

Crowley looked around the chamber.

"Oh, wait." His smile widened. "There aren't any."

For several seconds, nobody spoke. Then murmurs began spreading throughout the chamber, growing louder with every passing moment as the implications of Crowley's statement settled over the assembled witches and wizards. Sirius Black had been sent to Azkaban, the most feared prison in Britain, without ever standing before a court of law.

***

Author’s Note: Sirius, baby!

A lot of people have been asking about Sirius since chapter 1. Many acted as if I’d somehow forgotten about our dearest Dogfather. Believe me, I haven’t.

Ever since I started planning this story, Sirius’s debut was always meant to happen during Harry’s trial. It was one of those plot points that was set in stone from the very beginning. The problem was that if I said anything, the surprise would have been ruined.

But the wait is finally over.

Ladies and gentlemen, Sirius Black has officially entered the story.