If Paths Diverge

Chapter 32

On the morning of his trial, the Interim Minister, Jeffers, contacted Harry for a private meeting. He was due to face him in court that afternoon, so Harry was very confused as to what the man could possibly want. Unless it was to threaten him or coerce him to say or not say certain things to get an easier sentence.

Hermione had asked to be there for the meeting, or even simply to have a lawyer present, but Harry didn't really care at this point. He was ready to confront whatever was thrown at him. Nothing really scared him anymore.

When footsteps approached, he stood up, blanking his features and taking in a deep breath.

The man stopped once in sight, his gaze sweeping Harry in a strange way. He opened the cell door, entered, and then leaned against the bars.

"Jeffers," Harry acknowledged, confused by the man's silence.

Jeffers folded his hands.

"Mr Potter," the man inclined his head. "There has been a change in plans. I will argue your case and see to it that you are cleared of all charges."

Harry's muscles spasmed.

"What?"

Jeffers quirked his lips in a bewildering smile.

"I am sure that this is confusing. I am here to ensure that you will comply with my terms."

Harry paused and then let out a bitter laugh.

"Terms. Of course." Harry sat back down. "Alright, what do I have to sign away to receive this facade of mercy?"

He wasn't an idiot. The man was likely just here to taunt him. To offer the illusion of freedom and then laugh in his face when he could rip it away.

I should just tell him to stuff his terms up his arse, the pious little git.

"My terms are these," Jeffers said, smirking in his usual manner. "Firstly, you keep your mouth closed in court unless I directly ask you to speak, and then you may answer only the questions I put forth to you."

Harry frowned, suspicious.

"No way, why would I—"

"Ah ah," Jeffers said reprovingly, with a shake of his finger in Harry's face. "Listening now. My second term is that you will back me up regardless of the truthfulness of my statements and trust that I have a plan."

Harry made a noise of disgust.

"Why would I trust you? I don't trust you, there's no way I'm just going to—"

"Silencio," Jeffers said, his wand suddenly in his hand and the rest of Harry's diatribe lost sound.

He dropped his jaw in shock and then glared at the other man, taking a step forward with his fists balled.

"I wouldn't attack me if I were you, Mr Potter," Jeffers said, casting a pitying look at Harry's clenched hands. "I am, after all, the Minister and you are a criminal."

Harry felt himself shudder in enraged disbelief at the man's audacity.

"Now then, my third term— and remember that I am here to help you, so it would be wise not to come any closer."

Harry paused, eyebrow raised, and Jeffers took that as compliance.

"Thank you. Now, my third and final term is that you agree to follow me after we walk out of here, though I will not be telling you where we are going. You will have to trust me, yet again."

Harry opened his silenced mouth, but before he could even gnash his teeth, Jeffers folded his arms and continued.

"Trust, Mr Potter, is what I ask of you right now. I will get you free, but you will have to follow me and not interrupt or gainsay what I put forth. Can you do that? A nod will do, or, of course, a shake of your head if you will not and then I will happily Obliviate you and sign the parchment to send you to Azkaban."