Chapter 14- The Trial, Part 1

November 17, 2003

For those working the weekly grind, Mondays are traditionally endured as the worst day of the week after a leisurely weekend. Monday mornings especially, and the Monday morning in question would be no different. Hermione was to testify about the morning she was hurt, and Rick was killed. The wizard allegedly involved in the warehouse ambush confessed to the crime upon his arrest, in the hopes of a more lenient sentence.

Hermione, and four witnesses who had just happened to walk by the building in question the morning of the incident, waited in the gallery behind the prosecution and defense desks. Practically the entire Hit Wizard division was present, many of Hermione's friends and supporters, and Harry sitting next to her. At nine a.m. the doors to the Wizengamot chamber opened and two Hit Wizards entered the chamber with a bedraggled wizard. Hermione already knew who he was. Wallace Towson, aged 46, formerly from Bristol. He had been residing in a make-shift jail at the Ministry with the other 36 wizards and witches that had been arrested and awaiting trial. Some of the ones with a minor charge, like Ron, had been sent home with a monitoring bracelet and put under house arrest.

The Hit Wizards stood Towson between them while five magistrates entered the chamber and took seats in the area where the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot usually sat. Since this wasn't a full Wizengamot trial, ordinary criminal proceedings were held by five magistrates, five who also held Wizengamot seats and were experienced criminal advocates or prosecutors. Five magistrates for criminal trials was voted upon by the Wizengamot, and there had to be a majority vote for conviction.

The wizard seated in the middle of the five spoke. "Let it be known on this day, the 17th of November of the common era 2003, this session is called to order. Will the accused state his name for the record?"

He cleared his throat. "Wallace Towson."

"Mr. Towson, do you understand the charges that have been brought against you stemming from events of September 30th? That of aiding and abetting smuggling, destruction of property, assault with grievous bodily injury, and involuntary manslaughter?"

Wallace's face paled and he nodded. "Yes sir, I know the charges."

"Very well, you may be seated. The prosecution may begin."

Master Prosecutor Kenneth Green stood and straightened his robe. "Honorable magistrates see before you William Towson, who is indeed charged with aiding and abetting an illegal international smuggling operation. He is also charged with destruction of property that led to a charge of assault with grievous injury to Hit Witch Hermione Granger, and the charge of involuntary manslaughter of Hit Wizard Richard Portman. He confessed to the charges while awaiting trial in the hopes of leniency. We know why, and we can understand why he would. Confession is good for the soul, as the saying goes. Realizing the gravity of the charges against him, the testimony of today's witnesses, the evidence, and the results of the seventeen previous trials, confession is also good for the defense. We will present eye-witness testimony of the morning in question and sworn affidavits from three others that were convicted that name William Towson in their affidavits. That concludes my opening statement."

The chief magistrate scribble on a parchment and looked to the defense advocate, Frank Trumble. "The defense may begin."

Mr. Trumble stood. "Honorable Magistrates, yes, my client confessed to these crimes, but a confession does not mean an automatic guilty verdict. He is entitled to the due process of our legal system, which he will admittedly take full advantage of today. My client is not an evil man. He has not been convicted of a serious crime in his life before this. I also submit that Mr. Towson suffered mental trauma during the Voldemort war, confirmed by an experienced St. Mungo's trauma counselor. This trauma certainly could have led to an altered state of mind, culminating in Mr. Towson's appearance in this chamber this morning. That concludes my opening statement."

The chief magistrate scribbled on his parchment and spoke. "Prosecutor Green, you may call your first witness."

The prosecutor stood. "I call Wilhelmina Rockford as my first witness."

The chief magistrate stood and pointed out a comfortable-looking chair below the lectern, facing the chamber. "Mrs. Rockford, please come forward and sit in the chair below us."

Mr. Rockford patted his wife's hand and she took the indicated seat. The prosecutor stood behind his lectern and began.

"Mrs. Rockford, I understand that you've submitted pensive memories of the morning in question?"

"Yes, I have."

"Very good. Can you tell us of the events of the morning of November 17th?"

"I remember it, plain as day. Mr. Rockford and I own a greengrocer on Diagon Alley, for 32 years now. That morning we were laying out some apples when I noticed a man pushing a box through the side window of the building across the way. I didn't think anything of it, stuff like that happens all the time there, so I kept on with the apples."

"Would you be able to identify the man pushing a box through the window?"

"Sure, he's right there," she said, pointing at Towson.

"Chief Magistrate, please note that the witness positively identifies the accused, Wallace Towson."

"Noted, continue."

"I was about finished with the apples when a young witch stopped at the cart and bought an apple. She started eating it and told me that she bought fruit and vegetables there all the time. I thanked her for her business and then she leaned against the front post, all casual like, and asked me about the goings-on across the street."

"Who was the young witch?"

Mrs. Rockford pointed to Hermione. "Her, up there in the gallery with Mr. Potter."

"Chief Magistrate, please note that the witness positively identifies Miss Hermione Granger."

"Noted. Continue."

"And what did you tell Miss Granger?"

Mrs. Rockford cocked her head sideways and thought before she spoke. "That I hadn't seen anyone coming in or out of that place for a few years now. Some places never got repaired or used after the war. She thanked me, wished me a good day, and walked across the street to the window side of the building. I went inside my shop to clean the windows and I saw Miss Granger walk by the window and look in. She kept on walking to the far side of the building, still eating that apple."

"Why did you continue to look at Miss Granger after she left?"

Mrs. Rockford shrugged. "I can't help but see, it's right there in my sight when I look up. I thought I had seen her somewhere before, turns out I did, she was in the papers and such. I was curious, I guess, why she'd be looking in the window of an empty building."

"Mrs. Rockford, I know the next part of the story will be difficult, but can you tell it as best you can?"

She nodded. "Not long after Miss Granger walked to the far side of the building, there was a loud racket from inside and then the window side of the building blew out! Mr. Rockford came from inside the shop and told me to stay put while he went across the way. Others from the alley went to the mess too. A few minutes later, a crowd of people from the Ministry showed up. They took a covered body from the building, put Miss Granger on a stretcher, and left. Some Ministry people asked me and Mr. Rockford some questions and then we went about our day."

"Very well, Mrs. Rockford, thank you. No more questions for the witness, magistrates."

"Advocate Trumble, your turn."

The advocate stood. "Mrs. Rockford, how long did you say you've had your shop in Diagon Alley?"

"32 years."

"So, you're confident of the goings-on there?"

"Of course, I'm there most days."

"If you don't mind my asking, what is your age?"

"59."

"Do you wear spectacles?"

"No."

"Have you ever been to a healer to have your eyes examined?"

"No."

"Has anyone approached you about speaking at this hearing?"

"Why, yes. The prosecutor here sent me a letter and made an appointment with me to get my statement, schedule an eye examination, and put my memories in a pensive."

"You weren't compelled or forced to be here today?"

"Certainly not, we're free to do as we please, aren't we? I wanted to tell what happened, someone died after all."

Hermione expected this line of questioning. The advocate was doing his job, that of trying to cast any sliver of doubt in the witnesses. However, in this line of questioning, there was no doubt of Mrs. Rockford's veracity and pensive memory of the morning in question.

"Thank you, Mrs. Rockford. I have no more questions for this witness."

"Mrs. Rockford, you're excused. As for the rest of us, we'll have a ten-minute recess before the next witness."

Harry bought Hermione a cup of tea from one of the Ministry's refreshment kiosks and she sat on a bench, gazing at the atrium statue.

"Thoughts?" he asked.

She shook her head and took a sip of tea. "Well, just one thought. Ron's case is on the docket for tomorrow afternoon."

"Are you going?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Some… dirty laundry is going to be displayed."

He snorted.

"And the newspapers made his arrest as salacious as possible, it'll be the same with his trial," she sighed.

"Can't be helped, he brought all this on himself," he stated.

She nodded. "I know, but I just can't get my head wrapped around why he would wreck his family's trust, his job, and his relationship with me by doing something so thoughtless."

After the break, testimony resumed, and Mr. Rockford testified. His testimony was much like his wife's apart from going to the damaged building and finding Hermione and Rick. The third witness was the attendant at Magical Menagerie, who said that she had seen Hermione crossing the street while eating an apple. When Hermione walked out of sight and the explosion was heard, she rushed to see what had happened. She reported seeing Hermione, unconscious and injured, among the mess of bricks, glass and wood and Rick laying not far away. Doing his duty, the advocate cross-examined the witnesses, although there really wasn't much to examine about their testimony.

Hermione, the day's most pertinent witness, was slated to testify next. She prepared herself mentally as best she could, knowing how difficult it would be would testify about Rick. She was startled from her musings by the prosecutor's voice.

"Miss Granger?"

Harry squeezed her hand. "All right?"

Back into awareness, she saw that the entire chamber was looking at her.

"Miss Granger are you prepared to testify?" the chief magistrate asked.

"Yes sir."

She gave Harry a last glance before she left the gallery. She walked across the chamber and sat in the admittedly comfortable chair and settled in. Comfortable chairs made it easier to talk, she guessed, and the chief magistrate spoke.

"Miss Granger, the DMLE has declassified the information relating to this case, as well as the larger smuggling operation. You can speak freely."

"Yes sir."

The prosecutor started. "Miss Granger, what brought about the surveillance of address number fifteen in Diagon Alley?"

She nodded. "In June of this year, the DMLE learned from another Ministry department that a number of people were caught attempting to bypass inspections of imported goods and avoid the taxes on said goods. The Hit Wizards were tasked with the initial investigations, and my former partner and I were assigned surveillance on address number fifteen in Diagon Alley. My partner and I observed the location over the course of two weeks, and we had planned to make an arrest on the day in question."

She paused, took a deep breath, and continued. "Rick took the far end of the building, and I took the Diagon Alley end. I engaged in conversation with Mrs. Rockford, bought an apple, and continued to the building. I walked by the window on the east side of the building and looked briefly inside. I noted 3 crates and continued to the far side of the building where Rick was waiting. We initially decided to enter the building through the window, but it was spelled to prevent opening. Rick said that it odd for the building to have no door and wondered if it was charmed to be invisible. We then worked our way around the perimeter of the building, testing the walls at various locations for a hidden door."

"And did you find doors?"

"Yes, two, on the north and south sides of the building. Simple but clever, really, to charm the doors. We disabled the spell on the north side door and entered. As soon as we were inside, the door slammed shut. We attempted to open it again, but it must have been spelled to open only for the person who set the spell. That's when the bells and sirens started sounding inside the space, indicating that we must have tripped an alarm. We next tried the window by trying to break it, but it was shielded. Out of options, knowing that someone must be on the way, we attempted to apparate out. That failed too, when we ran into an anti-apparition ward. We fell to the floor and were disoriented from spell backlash."

"So you would say that someone did some extensive spellwork to keep people out?"

"Yes sir, and once inside, trapped inside. We decided that brute force would be necessary to get out the building, so we both prepared to cast the bombarda spell on the north door. We were interrupted when the door and window started to vibrate. Just as I threw up a shield, the window… exploded, for lack of a better word. I was hit with debris and thrown across the room, furthering my disorientation. I felt pain from my head and arm and blacked out. The next thing I know, I woke in St. Mungo's."

"How long do you estimate the incident inside lasted before you lost awareness?"

She thought before she spoke. "Two minutes."

"What injuries did you endure?"

She pointed to the area just above her hairline. "A fracture of the orbital bone, concussion, broken wrist, and numerous lacerations and deep tissue bruising."

"When did you learn of the death of Mr. Portman?"

She took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart. "A couple of days after I woke."

"Before this incident, did you manage to record any evidence?"

She nodded. "Photographs of individuals entering the building with crates and bins, Mr. Towson putting bins through the window, and pensive memories of what we witnessed."

"How was it determined that the building wasn't a storage building or used for business?"

"We attained the deed for the building and learned that it was registered under a name we now know to be an alias. After the incident, the bins and crates were taken into evidence. The goods found inside the bin require a permit for storage, and there was no permit on record with the deed. The building also has no business permit on file."

"Chief Magistrate, all of the evidence for this case has been entered into the record," the prosecutor stated.

"Noted."

"I've concluded this line of questioning, but I request permission to recall Miss Granger at a later time if necessary."

"Granted. Advocate, you may begin your questions."

"Miss Granger, how many investigations have you taken part in during your time at the Ministry?"

"With which department, sir?"

"Both, aren't investigative procedures similar from department to department?"

"I'd say so, yes sir."

"So, the number?"

"According to my files, fourteen up until the incident."

"You would consider yourself an experienced investigator?"

"I would."

"Are investigations usually as eventful as the one in question?"

She shook her head. "No, most are uneventful."

"On the day in question, before you entered the building, did you ever see anyone enter or leave the building?"

"No."

"While inside, did anyone enter the building aside from yourself and Mr. Portman?"

"No."

"How do you know that my client is the one that caused your injuries?"

She shrugged. "I don't. I only know his confession and his pensive memories that I viewed of the day in question."

"What do you know for certain?"

"That he delivered a crate through the window that morning."

"How do you know that?"

"By viewing Mrs. Rockford's and Mr. Towson's pensive memories. Mrs. Rockford saw Towson put a bin through the window, and Towson's own pensive showed him delivering a crate through the window. I feel I've been very clear on this."

Hermione had been warned that placing doubt about pensive memories was an ages-old defense strategy.

The prosecutor stood. "I object, chief magistrate. It is well-known that pensives used for criminal justice purposes are tested and verified for authenticity before use. If the defense suspects that the pensive memories submitted as evidence aren't genuine, then he needs to make a motion for that. Otherwise, I request that we move on from these pensive questions."

The chief magistrate looked to the defense advocate. "Advocate?"

"No motion is needed. I will refrain from further pensive inquiry."

"Do you have more questions for Miss Granger?"

"No, chief magistrate, not at this time. I do, however, request permission to recall Miss Granger later if need be."

"Granted. There will be a ten-minute recess before the defendant is called to testify."

#

In the Wizengamot atrium, Harry and Hermione ignored the hawker for the Daily Prophet.

"Well, that was aggravating," Harry said and bit into a biscuit.

Hermione dunked hers into a cup of tea and took a bite. "The advocate is just doing his job, love. Your trials are different. With a full Wizengamot assembly, trying an Azkaban-bound dark wizard, more direct methods are used to verify guilt. This is an ordinary criminal trial of a minor player."

They sighed when they saw a well-known reporter for The Daily Prophet approach them.

"Miss Granger, Quincy Hammond from the Daily Prophet. Can I ask you a few questions?"

"No comment."

"But I haven't asked you anything."

"No comment."

He looked to Harry who replied, "No comment."

The reporter sighed heavily and walked away. Harry and Hermione gave each other a high-five and returned to the court room.