Harry Potter: The Angel of Death C40 (Patreon)

Chapter 40: Feathers of Freedom

The eighteenth of August saw Courtroom Seven filled once more. Harry Potter's emancipation trial had become a national spectacle, and while it was overshadowed temporarily by Sirius Black's case, the attention once more had returned its focus onto the thirteen-year-old wizard. 

Harry's friends were supporting him, sitting in the audience section. Sirius sat beside Remus, the Weasleys, Hermione, and most of the professors of Hogwarts. Both Edward and Andromeda Tonks were seated in the Wizengamot section, Edward as the representative of St. Mungus and Andromeda as the representative of House Black. 

Sirius had already claimed the Black Lordship before his trial, but he could not formally assume the position or exercise its authority until he was declared physically and mentally fit by qualified experts. House Black was infamous for producing both brilliant and unstable individuals; in their history, greatness and madness had often walked hand in hand. After several disastrous Heads of House who possessed far more of the latter than the former and nearly drove the family to ruin, safeguards had been established.

Under Black family law, no heir could formally become Lord or Lady Black without first being certified of sound mind and body. Should the heir be deemed unfit, either temporarily or permanently, the family's council of elders would appoint a regent to govern in their stead or, in the most extreme circumstances, select a new Head altogether. The measure had been controversial when first introduced, but centuries later few could deny it had saved the House more than once.

And so, Andromeda is currently acting as Head of House Black until Sirius fully recovers. 

After the proceedings resumed, Crowley rose smoothly to his feet.

"Before we continue," Crowley began pleasantly, "I would like to address several concerns previously raised by Professor Dumbledore regarding the safety and wellbeing of my client."

His tone was casual, as if he were discussing the weather, but there was a sharp edge to his poorly conceiled grin. 

"These concerns are, of course, precious to all of us."

A few people snorted, and Dumbledore closed his eyes briefly. Crowley continued as if he had not noticed.

"The Headmaster expressed grave concerns regarding Harry Potter's safety should he be granted independence." He adjusted his sunglasses. "A reasonable concern."

He paused and looked around the chamber for a moment, gaining a few exasperated sighs at the obvious theatrics. 

"Therefore, I took the liberty of examining the environment in which Mr. Potter has spent the last years."

Harry saw several members of the Wizengamot straighten and covered his mouth to hide his smirk. 

Crowley's grin widened. 

"Namely Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Several professors looked nervous. "Now then, let us review Mr. Potter's educational experience."

Crowley withdrew a parchment.

"During Mr. Potter's first year at Hogwarts, an artifact capable of granting immortality was concealed within the school." He paused. "A school populated by thousands of children, I should remind everyone. Many of whom are your children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, and heirs."

Several members of the Wizengamot shifted uncomfortably; others glared at Dumbledore. In the audience, there was a low murmur that was quickly shut down. 

"The artifact was then used as bait."

The chamber grew quieter, as people leaned forward. 

"Bait for what, you might ask?" Crowley continued. "Lord Voldemort. The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was willingly hosting the spirit of Lord Voldemort."

Gasps echoed throughout the chamber.

Unlike the Chamber of Secrets incident, the events of Harry's first year had been kept remarkably quiet. Most people knew that something had happened involving Professor Quirrell, but very few knew the details; namely, the professors, the Golden Trio, and a handful of others.

The Wizengamot and general public, however, were learning those details for the first time. A professor possessed by the supposedly dead Dark Lord was scandalous enough, the revelation that Dumbledore had knowingly placed an object coveted by Voldemort inside a school full of children was another matter entirely. Even several of Dumbledore's most loyal supporters appeared unsure how to defend the idea of using a school as bait for a Dark Lord.

Murmurs spread through the chamber; some sounded shocked, others sounded angry, and a few sounded frightened.

Several heads turned toward Dumbledore, and many glances were filled with criticism, fury, and indignation. Crowley glanced toward him as well. 

"An interesting strategy," he remarked. "Furthermore, despite Hogwarts' supposedly extensive security measures, a fully grown mountain troll entered the castle during Halloween."

That incident was hardly a secret. It had been reported in the newspapers and discussed for a few weeks before being overshadowed by Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts and quietly forgotten and to this day, Harry could not understand why. The mountain troll could have killed dozens of students, hell, it was pure luck that he, Ron, and Hermione had not died that night.

"Indeed, a fully grown mountain troll," Crowley said with a nod. "While this information was public knowledge, very few people seemed particularly concerned, for reasons I confess I do not understand. Must I remind the chamber that mountain trolls are classified as XXXX creatures? Creatures considered dangerous enough that only trained witches and wizards are advised to handle them."

He paused briefly.

"Creatures, I should add, that possess tremendous physical strength, are notorious for attacking human settlements, and have been known to eat our fellow citizens."

Horror filled many faces, others looked disturbed, and some exchanged alarmed glances. When presented as a brief newspaper headline, a troll in Hogwarts sounded unfortunate, but when someone actually stopped to consider what a mountain troll was, and what might have happened if it had encountered a group of students in an empty corridor, the incident became considerably less amusing.

Crowley did not need to elaborate further. 

"Second year." Crowley continued after a moment. "A basilisk is released within the school."

"Bloody hell!" Someone swore, and several more followed.

"A troll and then a bloody basilisk?!" 

"What was Dumbledore doing?"

The indignation spread quickly, and Amelia had to shut them down for Crowley to continue. 

"A giant man-eating serpent capable of killing with eye contact roamed freely through the castle for months." He sighed. "It was a miracle no one died, and the only damage was a few unfortunate people being petrified." 

Crowley folded his hands behind his back and smiled pleasantly.

"To be entirely fair to Hogwarts, not all of these incidents were the school's fault."

Several professors visibly relaxed, but then Crowley continued.

"Only most of them."

The professors' shoulders slumped in defeat, and a few chuckles echoed through the chamber. Crowley turned toward Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore has expressed concern that Mr. Potter occasionally displayed reckless tendencies." He said. "That is true." 

Several people blinked in confusion.  

"The boy is curious, frequently impulsive, and possesses a deeply concerning tendency to run toward danger."

Ron coughed, and Hermione buried her face in her hands.

"However." His voice sharpened. "At every stage, Mr. Potter and his friends attempted to contact responsible adults."

Several heads turned toward Harry and his friends. 

"They sought professors."

He paused and looked towards the professors with open criticism, most of whom avoided his gaze. Every single time danger arose, they were nowhere to be found, every single time the Golden Trio had to manage on their own. 

"They sought assistance." He said, looking at them and then shifting his gaze towards the press. "They attempted to report dangers and when no assistance arrived, they acted."

Crowley folded his arms, and his gaze swept across the chamber.

"They acted because people were in danger."

He paced around. 

"They acted when a dark wizard was attempting to steal the Philosopher's Stone. They acted when a basilisk was hunting students."

Crowley's voice became colder.

"These actions may have been reckless."

Nobody argued. 

"But they were also heroic." He said. "Mr. Potter and his friends prevented Lord Voldemort's return during their first year."

Harry winced at the gazes focused on him; he was not going to escape public scrutiny during this lifetime, not after all the revelations during the trial.  

"They saved thousands of lives during their second." Crowley looked directly at Dumbledore. "If this is the standard of recklessness that disqualifies one from independence, then perhaps we should begin awarding criminal records for heroism."

Several members laughed, and even Amelia Bones smiled. 

Crowley's expression became neutral, and he straightened.

"Now let us discuss child protection." The solicitor removed another stack of parchment. "The Headmaster placed Mr. Potter with the Dursley family."

Heads shot towards Dumbledore once more, and the old wizard was pale as a sheet.

"He had assigned one of his followers to look after Mr. Potter, and yet the abuse still happened." His voice became colder. "So I find myself wondering."

His gaze settled on Dumbledore.

"Was this oversight?"

The chamber froze.

"Or was it deliberate?"

A collective intake of breath echoed through the room. Crowley raised a hand before anyone could interrupt.

"I am not accusing Professor Dumbledore of malice." His smile returned. "I am merely examining possibilities."

His smile sent shivers down people’s backs. 

"If the abuse was unnoticed, then we must question the effectiveness of his oversight." He said. "If it was noticed and ignored, we must question his judgement."

He looked around the chamber. 

"Either conclusion is concerning." Crowley adjusted his tie. "Professor Dumbledore has repeatedly emphasized the effects of stress, trauma, and emotional instability upon decision making."

He looked thoughtful.

"An excellent point."

Harry almost smiled, knowing what will follow, but managed to keep a straight face. 

"The Headmaster currently serves as Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, Headmaster of Hogwarts, political advisor, and Merlin knows what else."

A few people snorted.

Crowley nodded sympathetically.

"That sounds exhausting." He said with a mocking grin. "Perhaps the issue is not Harry Potter's independence. Perhaps the issue is that Albus Dumbledore has accumulated enough responsibilities for three lifetimes."

Some laughed while others were seriously thinking about it. 

"Therefore, in the interest of Professor Dumbledore's health, I respectfully suggest a lengthy vacation." Crowley smiled warmly. "Preferably somewhere tropical."

More people laughed. 

And just like that, Albus Dumbledore's reputation received a hit it would not be able to recover from. Many might find it amusing now, but the seed was planted and already blooming: Dumbledore was too old, too burdened.

How many positions did Albus Dumbledore hold? Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the list went on. For decades people had accepted it because Dumbledore was Dumbledore. And now many were already questioning if Dumbledore was too old, was he spreading himself too thin, was he still capable of carrying all those responsabilities? 

The once unshakable pillar is now seen as old and fragile, no longer someone the entire British magical community could rely on. 

And this—this had nothing to do with the trial or his independence. This was personal. 

People liked to think Gryffindors were noble, brave, and forgiving. They tended to focus on the lion's mane and forget about its teeth and claws, ignoring just how vicious they can be. Cats, after all, have a habit of playing with their prey, even when they are not hungry, and Dumbledore had it coming. 

Once the laughter died down, Rufus Scrimgeour rose from his seat, unlike several members of the Wizengamot, the Head of the Auror Office did not appear particularly amused.

His sharp eyes swept across the chamber before settling upon Crowley.

"Dumbledore aside," he said, drawing the attention of the room back toward the matter at hand, "I would like to return to Harry Potter's case."

Scrimgeour folded his hands behind his back.

"During Sirius Black's trial, concerns were raised regarding his current ability to act as guardian."

Several members nodded; even those sympathetic to Sirius agreed on that point.

"Innocent or not, Mr. Black spent twelve years in Azkaban." His voice remained calm and measured. "No reasonable Healer would claim that such an experience leaves a person unaffected."

Harry glanced toward Sirius. His godfather's jaw tightened but he didn't interrupt.

"The damage inflicted by Azkaban is extensive." Scrimgeour continued. "Physical, psychological, and emotional."

He paused.

"Recovery will take time." The Auror turned toward Crowley. "So let me ask plainly: does your client intend to seek guardianship under Sirius Black?"

Several heads turned toward Crowley, and he rose to his feet once more.

"Our position remains unchanged." The solicitor adjusted his tie. "We are not seeking a transfer in guardianship. We are seeking independence."

A murmur spread through the chamber. 

Scrimgeour remained silent, and Crowley continued.

"Sirius Black has proven himself innocent." He nodded toward Sirius. "He has also demonstrated beyond any reasonable doubt that he deeply cares for Harry Potter."

Many people looked at him, and Sirius looked embarrassed by the attention.

"However." The single word silenced the room. "At the end of the day, Sirius Black remains a stranger."

Several people looked caught by surprise, and Sirius himself looked both offended and hurt, looking towards Harry with sad eyes, which Harry did his best to avoid. The animagus transformation was spot on, his godfather has deadly puppy eyes. 

Crowley glanced at him.

"How long have you known Harry?"

Sirius opened his mouth and then closed it before muttering: 

"Less than a week."

"Precisely." Crowley nodded. "Affection may create family, but it takes time. Mr. Potter has spent most of his life surviving despite the failures of nearly every adult responsible for his welfare."

Nobody argued it. 

"The Dursleys failed him."

Crowley began counting on his fingers.

"The Ministry failed him."

Another finger.

"The educational system failed him."

Harry noticed several professors looking ashamed. 

"And despite all of that, he survived." The solicitor's voice softened. "The unfortunate reality is that Mr. Potter learned a lesson no child should ever have to learn."

His gaze swept across the chamber.

"If he does not protect himself, nobody else will."

Nobody spoke, because no one could deny that every adult in his life had failed him.

Crowley clasped his hands behind his back.

"Therefore, I find it rather curious that after thirteen years of proven incompetence, the same adults are now insisting they know what is best for him."

Several members of the Wizengamot and Ministry officials winced, and Crowley allowed the silence to linger before continuing.

"That said." He said. "We recognize that a full emancipation may be difficult for some members of this court to support."

Several members visibly relaxed, while others became more weary, being used to Crowley's games. Every time his solicitor appeared reasonable with the opposition, he followed by delivering a devastating blow.  

"Therefore." He withdrew another parchment. "My client proposes a middle ground."

Many members of the Wizengamot inclined forward, interested in what he had to say. Compromises were a language politicians understood very well, one that they preferred and were more willing to listen to than demands.

Crowley looked toward Harry before continuing.

"A provisional majority." Crowley continued before anyone could interrupt. "Mr. Potter would be granted authority over his residence, finances, education, healthcare, and personal decisions."

A few people nodded.

"He would maintain legal independence in all practical matters." He said. "However, for a period of one year, he would remain under the supervision of a court-approved adult."

Many were thinking it, while others looked around the room, waiting to see what their peers would decide before making a decision. Crowley hid his grin, he knew he had them. 

"During that year, periodic reviews would be conducted." He folded the parchment. "If Harry Potter demonstrates continued competence, responsibility, and stability, then full emancipation would be granted."

The proposal sounded reasonable, so many nodded. 

"If he fails?" Asked a witch.

"Then the matter may be revisited." Crowley nodded.

Several members seemed pleased by that answer since it gave them a safety net. It would allow the Wizengamot to maintain an appearance of control. 

Scrimgeour studied him for several seconds.

"And who would serve as this supervisor?"

The question immediately reignited the chamber, and suggestions came from every direction. Amelia raised a hand, and the room quieted. 

"We have already selected a candidate."

Harry noticed Andromeda straighten in preparation for the scrutiny that would follow.

“As we all know, healthy familial relationships should be encouraged.” Crowley's smile widened.

Several people immediately turned toward Sirius. 

“And given the importance of allowing Sirius Black and Harry Potter the opportunity to develop such a relationship—”

Andromeda sighed at his theatrics and thought to herself that he would have made a perfect scion of House Black. 

“—as well as the candidate's current position with regard to House Black,” Crowley finished smoothly, extending a hand toward the Wizengamot benches, “we hereby nominate Lady Andromeda Tonks.”

Every head turned toward her, and Andromeda closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and meeting every stare with a firm and icy stare of her own, making several people look away. 

Sirius looked amused as she intimidated several veteran politicians and nobles, while Edward gave her a wink when their eyes met.

Crowley continued.

"Lady Tonks is currently overseeing the affairs of House Black while Lord Black undergoes recovery." He nodded respectfully toward her. "She possesses extensive administrative experience."

Several people nodded. Though her family had publicly cast her out, Andromeda had built a highly successful career as a financial advisor. Many of the noble houses represented in the Wizengamot were among her clients and were well aware of her sharp judgment and financial acumen.

"She is a blood relative of Sirius Black, and she already demonstrated concern for both Mr. Black and Mr. Potter."

Not a lie either. Although Harry had little direct contact with Andromeda over this summer, he had learned that over the years she had reached out to Dumbledore on several occasions to ask about his wellbeing, despite having no real obligation to do so. She had not been particularly close to his parents, nor was she immediate family—they were, at best, distant cousins. Even so, she was one of the few people who had taken the time to check on him.

"And unlike most adults involved in Harry Potter's life, she has not spent the last thirteen years making catastrophically poor decisions."

Several people snorted, while others, including Andromeda, smirked. 

Crowley smiled, knowing how this would end. 

The proposal lets Harry retain his independence while giving the Wizengamot a sense of control, allowing them to believe they still hold some authority in the matter and preserving their pride and public image.

Amelia Bones rose from her seat and looked around the chamber.

"The proposal has been presented." She said. "All those in favor?"

Hands began to rise. Some right away, others after a brief hesitation. 

Harry found himself watching the traditionalist faction more than anyone else. He looked at Lucius Malfoy, who glanced in his direction with annoyance and irritation before averting his gaze and raising his hand. 

For a moment, several politicians froze and stared at him in disbelief. Not only was the traditionalist faction made up of many of Voldemort’s supporters who hate Harry Potter by principle, but Lucius himself had spent much of the hearing opposing Harry. 

Harry fought his smirk. Lucius's expression suggested he would rather be anywhere else, but unfortunately for him, blackmail had a way of encouraging civic participation.

One by one, members of his faction followed his lead. A few looked confused, while others looked annoyed. None appeared willing to publicly oppose the man who effectively controlled their political bloc, but they were not happy with his decision either. There will be some fighting in the traditionalist faction later on, that much Harry is certain. 

The scales were tipping in his favor, with most of the traditionalist faction voting for Harry, he had secured nearly a third of the votes.

Then Lord Greengrass raised his hand, and that proved a decisive factor. 

Unlike Malfoy, Greengrass occupied the center of the political spectrum. Many neutral members watched him carefully whenever controversial issues arose. And so, seconds after he raised his hand, dozens of additional hands followed. 

The outcome became obvious long before the counting finished.

When the counting finished, Amelia glanced at the parchment handed to her and nodded.

"The proposal is accepted."

Over two-thirds of the Wizengamot had voted in favor, and so, for the first time in his life, his future belonged to him. 

The journalists did not wait for Amelia to conclude before jumping out of their seats and trying to reach Harry, and for once, he did not care about them or all the attention. 

He is won, he is free. 

As he got up from his seat, he did not look at the forgotten Dumbledore or the journalists shouting his name, his eyes met Crowley's, and he mouthed: 

"Thank you." 

The solicitor lowered his sunglasses and winked at him.

“Our seeker is free!” Fred shouted, or maybe it was George; he could not tell. “Let’s celebrate!”

***

Several days after the trial, Harry found himself once again standing outside Crowley's office.

The secretary looked genuinely apologetic.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Potter, but Mr. Crowley already left for the day."

Harry frowned.

"He left?"

"Yes."

"We had an appointment."

The secretary offered him a sympathetic smile, and Harry sighed. 

The annoyance was made worse by the fact that Dobby had spent nearly an hour getting him ready for a meeting that wasn't going to happen. The elf had insisted that a proper gentleman dress appropriately for every occasion and that business meetings demanded formal attire, completely ignoring that this wasn't actually a formal business meeting as he enthusiastically indulged his newfound hobby of dressing Harry up like a human doll.

He turned to leave before noticing that someone else remained seated in the waiting area.

The first thing Harry noticed was the white hair. He did not look old enough to have fully white hair, he was at most in his forties. He sat comfortably in one of the armchairs with a book resting upon his lap.

His eyes were a remarkably bright blue, and he wore an elegant cream-colored suit that managed to look both like something an old English gentleman would wear and perfectly comfortable at the same time.

There was something oddly reassuring about him, something familiar that Harry couldn't quite explain. 

The man looked up from his book and smiled warmly. The expression reminded Harry vaguely of Professor Sprout; it carried the same warm, welcoming feeling.

Harry approached him. 

"Just so you know, Crowley's not here."

The man blinked and then he laughed softly.

"Oh dear." His voice was soft and warm, the kind that put people at ease without even trying. "He isn't, is he?"

Harry shook his head.

"He left for the day."

The man's smile became knowing.

"Of course he did."

The response caught Harry's attention.

"You knew?"

"Oh yes." The man closed his book. "He has been avoiding me for two days."

Harry raised an eyebrow, and the man extended a hand.

"Aziraphale."

Harry shook it.

"Harry."

"A pleasure to meet you, Harry." 

Harry sat down across from him.

"You know Crowley?"

Aziraphale smiled, and his expression immediately became fond, sad, and amused all at once. 

"Oh yes." The smile widened slightly. "We've known each other a very long time."

Harry tilted his head.

"I didn't know Crowley had friends."

Aziraphale laughed.

"My dear boy, neither does Crowley."

Harry snorted, and Aziraphale giggled.

"That old fool would rather swallow his own foot than admit he cares about anyone." The fondness in his voice deepened. "In all the years I've known him, not once has he openly admitted to caring for another person."

Harry could believe that. Crowley was, as the Japanese men would say, a kudere, or was it tsundere? He was mixing the terms in his head. What was a man who seemed cool as a cucumber, indifferent on the outside, but quite caring and decent on the inside?  

"Yet somehow," Aziraphale continued, "he always finds ways to show it."

For a brief moment, his gaze drifted toward the empty office, and something changed in his expression. Behind his eyes appeared a deep sadness and longing, a nostalgia so old it seemed to have woven itself into his very being, and Harry became very certain that this wasn't merely an acquaintance or friend.

This man considered Crowley to be someone important to him, very important, and whatever had happened between them clearly hadn't healed. The feeling had to go both ways, he thought. Crowley had never once failed to appear for an appointment; at worst, he would reschedule, which meant he was avoiding Aziraphale.

Harry briefly considered asking what happened between them, but the question never left his mouth.

"How do you know him?" Aziraphale asked instead.

Harry shrugged.

"He's my solicitor."

Aziraphale paused and looked him up and down.

"You seem rather young to require a solicitor."

Harry laughed.

"So I've been told."

The older man smiled.

"I'm beginning to suspect there's a story there."

"There is." Harry offered no details.

"Ah." Aziraphale nodded knowingly. "One of those situations."

Harry wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but it felt accurate. The older man glanced toward Crowley's office once more before letting out a quiet sigh.

"Well." He stood. "I suppose I should apologize on his behalf."

Harry snorted.

"You don't have to."

"Oh, I've been apologizing for Crowley for centuries."

The words slipped out so naturally that Harry almost missed them. Centuries? He repeated in his mind, and before he could question it, Aziraphale continued.

"Do you need someone to escort you home?"

Harry shook his head.

"My butler is waiting outside."

Aziraphale stared and then laughed.

"Of course he is."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Of course?"

"My dear boy, you're one of Crowley's clients." Aziraphale spread his hands. "What else was I expecting?"

Harry found himself smiling. The man had that effect on people, you can't help but lower your guard and feel at ease. 

Aziraphale nodded toward the door.

"Run along, then." His eyes twinkled. "No point waiting for that old crow."

Harry stood.

"Nice meeting you, Mr. Aziraphale."

"And you as well, Harry."

Harry turned and began walking toward the exit, but just before reaching the door, something made him glance back. Aziraphale remained standing beside the armchair as the afternoon sun streamed through the large front windows behind him, and for the briefest moment the light seemed to gather around him, forming a soft golden halo around his white hair and gentle smile.

Harry froze for a second and stared at him.

The image lasted less than a second before Aziraphale waved cheerfully, shattering the illusion as the light became ordinary sunlight once more.

Harry stared for another moment before shaking his head. That was something, he guessed. Harry pushed open the door and stepped outside, leaving Aziraphale alone in the waiting room.

***

Author’s Note: And so, Volume 2 ends, and with it the trials, hearings, and legal drama that have occupied much of this part of the story. There are still a few legal matters unfolding in the background—Sirius is, after all, suing the Ministry—but they will remain largely off-screen from this point onward.

The story now moves on to the next stage of Harry's journey. I hope you've enjoyed this volume, and I'll see you in Volume 3.