Nexus

The Daily Prophet

Deputy Jackson Let Off On Charges of Dark Magic!
On Monday, November 2nd, Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt held a hearing for Perseus Jackson. Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Jackson had been accused of using illegal Dark Magic to kill He Who Must Not Be Named.
"Jackson has used a horrendous form of magic on two occasions," said Ogden at the trial. "This magic controls the human body in a disgraceful and barbaric way!"

The accusation declares that Jackson used the Dark Arts for blood magic to gruesomely, violently kill the Dark Lord. The Minister's decision not to send the wielder of such scandalizing magic to Azkaban has raised many concerns and objections from the Ministry of Magic.

"What does this mean for our justice system?" Scrimegour pleaded in an exclusive interview. "We lose all integrity when Dark Magic goes unpunished. Jackson should not be allowed to teach our children! He is a danger to young witches and wizards."

Indeed, Shacklebolt's verdict has caused no less than four families to pull their children out of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "He pleaded guilty to Dark Magic!" Cried one anonymous parent. "Even if the Minister says it's not illegal, we don't want someone like that around our kids!"

Pleas aim towards Headmistress McGonagall from the Board of Governors to replace Deputy Jackson. Will the Headmistress deal justice where the Minister has not? All eyes await her decision as the future of Hogwarts's safety and quality are defined.

"Wow," Harry shook his head in disbelief. "They're really laying it on thick. Rita Skeeter is acting like you weren't absolved of the accusations!"

"Of course she is," Hermione spat. "I should've gotten her locked up when I had the chance."

"Agreed," added Ron, scratching out a paragraph on his parchment. He, Harry, and Hermione were sitting at desks in Percy's classroom while he graded papers after Tuesday classes had ended. They had an hour until dinner that the trio was spending with him. Ron was trying to write a 5-scroll essay for Transfiguration due to the next day, Hermione was rewriting hers for the third time, and Harry had abandoned the assignment entirely to angrily read the morning's Daily Prophet for the tenth time.

"This is ridiculous!" Harry snapped. He'd been saying angry expletives all day.

"Harry," Percy sighed, putting down his quill after giving a student an E despite them having submitted half the length he'd asked for. His head was hurting worse than normal and he didn't care for in depth grading. "I really appreciate your loyalty. But the trial is over now, and I can handle the fallout myself." He stood, reaching under his desk for the potion. It was just around time to sip on it some more. As he poured the purple liquid into a glass, Percy could feel the three students' eyes on him. He felt the uncomfortable burn of their watchful gazes, but knew they were still adjusting to the knowledge of his illness.

"Alright," Harry sighed, folding up The Daily Prophet. "It just bugs me a lot. How can they villainize you for defeating Voldemort?"

"Riddle as a monster, but they see me as one, too," Percy explained, licking his lips and placing the glass back on his desk. The potion had a gross cherry after taste, sort of like cough medicine. "It's not just my Dark Magic--they see me as a threat. I'm a demigod: your magic doesn't work the same on me, and my powers aren't limited by your laws or wands. I'm too different to not be dangerous to them." He piled the students' parchment scrolls together. "It's not only about what I can do, but what I represent." He sat down again and scanned a letter from Minerva, getting distracted by her message.

"I get that," Harry sighed. "I just hate that Rita Skeeter made it sound so one-sided in The Daily Prophet."

Percy's head snapped up in alarm. "The Daily Prophet? What are you on about?"

Ron looked at him funny. "The article in the post?"

He stared at them blankly. What post? He hadn't seen anything about the trial. How had there been a story buzzing around about it, and he hadn't heard anything of it all day? He had a subscription for gods sake!

Harry's confused expression melted, turning into sadness and then quiet resignation. He handed Percy a newspaper.

It read: Deputy Jackson Let Off On Charges of Dark Magic! with a photo of himself in the Wizengamont, jerking against the chains binding him. The photograph made him look wild and unrestrained. Percy read through the article quickly, his heart sinking at what it said. When he looked back up, all three students were looking at him sadly.

Understanding dawned upon him suddenly. "Ah," he he frowned, folding the newspaper and slipping it in his desk. He'd need to read it if he forgot again. "We've been talking about this all day, haven't we?"

They nodded at him.

Percy wanted to curl into a ball and break down right there. He was losing his mind and couldn't do anything about it. He wanted to scream but he knew he couldn't. Not in front of those three.

Or maybe he should? Was that the sort of talking that Healer Worrace insisted upon?

So be it, then.

"You all go on to dinner," Percy told them. "I've got some things to take care of. Ron, can you come help me with something?"

Harry and Hermione looked curiously at their friend. The redhead shrugged and walked over to Percy while the other two packed their bags and left the classroom.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, fiddling with the edge of the desk. Since the war he had grown even more, an inch taller than Percy. The demigod hoped he stopped growing lest he be towered over by his own student.

"I wanted to touch in," Percy admitted. "How are you holding up? I understand if you don't want to talk about...loss, but know that I'm here if you do."

Panic fluttered across Ron's face for a moment. "Oh, yeah." He looked around the room. They sat in silence for a few minutes. When Ron spoke, his voice was thick and low. "I miss him."

Percy nodded and closed his eyes to hold back sudden tears. The corner of his eyes prickled but he forced it back. He couldn't think about Fred—one of his best friends since age 11. He hadn't allowed himself to think of his friend, to grieve. If he did, Percy would fall apart. But he owed it to Fred to watch out for his brothers.

"I wish I could do more for George," Ron added hesitantly.

Percy nodded in agreement. He kept in touch with George, the two clinging to each other with Fred's loss. But in all their letters, George had seemed aloof. His grief was eating him up, and Percy didn't know what to do about it.

An idea sprung in his head. "You know," he began slowly as the thought formed. "After the war, I think we could all do with a bit of a laugh. Maybe it is time to get the joke shop back up." After Fred's death, Weasley Wizard Wheezes had been closed. George had been in too much pain to even walk down that street.

Ron's head shot up, eyes wide in alarm. "I don't think George is ready to do all that by himself."

Percy gave a small smile. "What if he isn't alone? I think he would appreciate the help...from a brother."

Ron looked thoughtful. Surprised at the suggestion, and then his cheeks upturned and eyes relaxed as he warmed up to the idea.

"Yeah," he said with enthusiasm. "Maybe after we graduate—or I could even help him now from Hogwarts! I'll go send an owl." Ron gathered his books and bag over his shoulder. "Thanks, Percy!" He called as he darted from the classroom to the Owlery.

Percy smiled.