Fudge's Trial, part 2

Fudge sat in the accused's chair yet again. At least the chains weren't so tight today. The Auror who cast the spell to apply them must have started to think he wasn't guilty. Good, good. One more person convinced. Or at least starting to doubt his guilt. And once doubt set in, it wasn't long before it seemed reasonable. And reasonable doubt was all that was needed.

A good number of the remaining Wizengamot also appeared doubtful, or at least bored enough with the repeated failures of the prosecution that they were unlikely to vote him guilty. Consider him stupid, or a fool, perhaps, but not guilty. Which of course was the goal. Even the Chief Witch was starting to lose her patience. Maybe he'd get a mistrial.

He glanced carefully around the room, and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Also good. They were two thirds of the way through the charges, and so far nothing had stuck. A few more days of convincing himself that he did nothing wrong in receiving campaign contributions and he would be a free man. Soon after that he and the rest of his money would be on the beach in The Caymans.

Another careful glance around the room. That blasted group from Hogwarts was already in place, a block of colorful muggle clothes in a sea of respectable black robes. Well, if he and Dolores couldn't kill or drive them all off, he and his money would just have to leave instead, leaving them royalty of the ash heap.

Any rumors that they were somehow responsible for the removal of his friends in the Wizengamot had to be just that, rumors. Lucius must have somehow broken under questioning from Shacklebolt, and Chief Prosecutor Hughes had gotten lucky. It was obviously luck, as his repeatedly following his failing theories over and over, despite failing every time, just showed he was a loser, and deserved to be left behind. And poor.

One last glance at the current and recent students. Something about them today made him uneasy. In the past, they had chatted amongst themselves, and more recently glared at him as the trial had failed to go their way. Today however, they all sat quietly, still, and were all looking directly at him, most with a small smile on their face. Xeno's insane daughter was the exception. While smiling, she was staring off to the side, fiddling with a galleon in her hand. It was somewhat unnerving.

Suddenly another chair rose from the floor, with another man chained to it. It was Jonn Sommers, which made no sense, as he had been the first witness called against him. Given how he was also the first in the long string of witnesses to fail to prove the case against him, he couldn't think of any reason why they would bring him back.

The Chief Witch Anne Noggle led the procession of the remaining Wizengamot in through the doors to take their seats. Prosecutor Hughes and his assistants sat at their table across the open area, and Fudge's advocate, John Packington sat at his table next to Fudge.

The session was called to order, and in a surprise move, the three drops of veritaserum were given to Mr. Sommers. This got the gallery's and the reporters' attention. Their numbers had waned as the prosecution had repeatedly failed in it's efforts.

"Mr. Sommers," began Hughes, "I would like to review a few details about the financial transaction of May 15, 1993 that we have previously discussed."

"We have established that the transaction took place, and you have admitted to providing the money. I must ask you, did you consider it a bribe at the time?"

"No."

"Objection, your honour," said Fudge's advocate. "The campaign donation in question, and it's legality, has already been established, and Mr. Sommer's opinion about the nature of the transaction has no basis in law, and is thus irrelevant. Though, I note that perhaps I shouldn't object as his testimony yet again exonerates my client."

A few in the gallery tittered at that.

"Mr. Hughes?" asked the Chief Witch.

"I agree, your honour. However, I am not asking Mr. Sommer's opinion regarding the legal category of the transaction, I am asking him details about the transaction as an event as he was a witness to it."

"I fail to see the distinction."

"With a few followup questions, I hope to make it quite clear, your honour."

"Then be efficient, Mr. Hughes, my patience for this will be limited."

"Of course, Chief Witch."

He turned to his witness. "Mr. Sommers, did you view the transaction as a campaign donation?"

"Yes."

At this Fudge looked smug, and Mr. Packington looked ready to object again.

"Why did you view the transaction as a campaign donation?"

"'Cause he tole me to call it that if anyone asked."

At this, Fudge paled to an awful grey-green, and began whispering heatedly to Mr. Packington.

"You stop him, and you stop him right now."

"I can't, it's something that he was a direct witness to, and the Chief Witch just allowed it."

"Well, find something to object to, or I'll find some way for you to be sitting in this chair instead."

"Threatening me, and withholding evidence that limits my ability to prepare an adequate defense, means I could drop you as a client, so shut it and calm down."

Meanwhile, Prosecutor Hughes was continuing his questioning. "And if you didn't?"

"If I didn't give him the money, and call it a 'donation,' he was gonna chuck me in Azkaban, 'cause he had evidence against me."

The gallery erupted into noise in surprise, only to quiet down as the Chief Witch glared at them.

"And the nature of this evidence?" asked Huges.

"Objection, your honour!" said Mr. Packington. "Mr. Sommers is not currently on trial, nor can he be asked to provide unknown evidence against himself."

The Chief Witch glared at prosecutor Hughes again. "Mr. Hughes, Mr. Packington has a point. Open court is not the place for discovery."

"I agree your honour. However, as Mr. Packington also pointed out, as Mr. Sommers is not on trial, he is merely describing his motivation for participating in the transaction."

"Furthermore, as prior testimony has most certainly cleared both Mr. Fudge and Mr. Sommers of bribery in this transaction, he will not be on trial for it, thus anything he says about the transaction is not evidence against himself. I'm about to establish that Mr. Sommers is actually a victim, not a co-conspirator."

The noise in the gallery rose again. The Chief Witch grabbed her gavel and banged it loudly on the sounding block to restore a semblance of order.

Hughes continued. "And before Mr. Packington can object again, we had previously reached an agreement with Mr. Sommers regarding whatever potentially criminal behaviour may have been committed that allowed Mr. Fudge to coerce Mr. Sommers."

"I object yet again, Chief Witch. If the prosecution has evidence against my client, they are required to provide such to the defense before trial."

"Mr. Packington has all the evidence, your honour. It is merely the characterization of the evidence that we differ on. Mr. Packington will say that any and all of these transactions were perfectly legal campaign donations. We have been positing that they are evidence of bribery, which we will now admit may not be the case. However, we now believe they are evidence of extortion, and have shown that at least one party supports that belief. If after reviewing the evidence and interviewing Mr. Sommers and the other witnesses, they failed to account for this possibility, it does not mean that we were remiss in any way."

The Chief Witch sat thoughtfully, scowling first at prosecutor Hughes, then at her desk in thought, then finally at Mr. Packington.

She turned back to Hughes. "Are you going to recall all the witnesses, then?"

"Unfortunately yes, Your Honour."

"And you're changing the charges in each instance?"

"Yes again, Your Honour."

Her scowl deepened. "I don't like such surprises, Prosecutor Hughes. Why am I not trying to beat Mr. Packington in calling for a mistrial?"

The gallery gave a collective shout/groan, and it grew from there. Some of the comments were along the lines of "Just when it was getting good." The rest were in protest of the possibility of Fudge getting off due to the prosecution's incompetence. The noise rose despite Chief Witch Noggle banging her gavel to the point the handle broke. She finally had to fire off a concussive blast from her wand, and addressed the crowd.

"Keep quiet! You are here a courtesy, not as a necessity. Any more delays caused by the gallery, and you'll all be escorted out and the gallery closed for the remainder of whatever trial we have." The gallery quieted, but a low rumble of voices continued.

Fudge had a smile starting on his face. A mistrial would be a very good thing.

"Thank you, Chief Witch," said Mr. Packington.

She jabbed the pointy broken end of her gavel at him. "Don't get ahead of yourself. A mistrial is not exoneration."

Fudge was having a hard time not laughing out loud. He didn't care about exoneration, he just needed five minutes out of custody, a quick dodge to a floo, and he'd be set for life.

"And you," she snarled at Hughes, "shenanigans like this are a good way to get barred from the Wizengamot and demoted to law clerk. I'm not kidding about the mistrial, unless you've prepared to fix this mess."

"My apologies, Chief Witch. We have indeed, and were just about to get there."

Her raised eyebrow made him hurry along.

"Chief Witch, the prosecution hereby drops all 141 charges of bribery against Mr. Fudge. We apologize for the time taken by this trial so far. However, we are filing 141 charges of extortion and blackmail instead. We anticipate adding multiple counts of conspiracy for numerous felonies as well. While the evidence and witness list is exactly the same, we acknowledge that Mr. Fudge's defense team may wish to review it and them extensively."

The noise in the gallery swelled again, only to die after the Chief Witch grabbed her wand.

Fudge had gone from near glee to near panic. He needed the mistrial or a not guilty verdict. New charges applied now meant that—

"We also request that Mr. Fudge be placed in a Ministry holding cell immediately, without bail, given the number, nature, and severity of his alleged crimes, as well as for the large sums of money that remain unaccounted for. We view him as a significant flight risk. There is also the matter of his personal safety. We cannot guarantee his safety outside of the Ministry building now that criminal behaviour beyond bribery is nearly assured in each of the 141 cases, many of whom have not yet reached, and perhaps will not reach, an amnesty deal with us. This can only add to his personal danger and thus flight risk."

The gallery and even the reporters were all in loud conversation, many pointing down at the courtroom floor, and weren't influenced at all by another concussive blast.

Fudge was thrashing back and forth in his chair, cursing his advocate, Hughes, and Chief Witch Noggle. Then he saw that the students, lead by that bastard Potter, the mudblood, and the Lovegood chit, were all still sitting quietly, smirks on their faces, and truly lost it. Face red, nearly purple, he threw himself against his chains at them. "You worthless vermin. Why couldn't you have just died like you should have. You don't deserve—"

He was cut off by a silencing charm from the Chief Witch. She cast a repairo on her broken gavel and banged just once, not even trying to quiet the crowd, which was now on its feet, most yelling back at Fudge. The court dicta quill would record her words regardless.

"Cornelius Fudge, all charges of bribery are dropped. You are hereby remanded to Ministry custody, without bail, for numerous charges of extortion and blackmail. A preliminary hearing is set for three weeks from today, where the prosecution and the defense will state their readiness to go to trial. Case dismissed."

She banged her gavel one final time, and headed out the doors to her chambers. She needed a drink.

Aurors came to release Fudge from the accused's chair. As soon as the chains were released, he dodged under the unprepared Auror's arm and lunged at the front row of the gallery, hands reaching out to throttle the neck of a smiling, smirking, Harry Potter. He made it only half way before four stunners hit him, and he fell to the floor, skidding on his face into the bar. As he was placed in manacles and dragged away, the Hogwarts group started applauding.

Luna leaned over to Hermione. "Now that's doing it right."

A/N: So, fun with Fudge. And with a gavel. Which, while a British invention, is apparently never used in British courts or halls of government, only auctions.