Everybody knows the noble and most ancient house of Black, a British-French pureblood family whose use of magic was as dark as the nightsky and their folk as dangerous as assassins. Their newest heir is no different from her ancestors.
The year is...
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POLARIS CAME DOWN the stairs in formal attire, a scowl on her face. "Change of plans, Potter, the minister just sent me a letter that I have to be at your hearing. I can't arrive with you for obvious reasons but I obviously will vote for you."
The Potter heir looked at her and nodded. Polaris saw the nerves written on his face and sighed slightly. She didn't know how she would feel in his situation.
"I'm pretty sure that there are a lot of people who will vote in your favor, don't fret about that." Harry nodded at her words with a small, squeaky 'thanks' before she made her way to the fireplace. She took a handful of floo powder and with a shout she was off to the ministry.
Polaris arrived at the ministry a bit earlier than she expected. She didn't know why she was there in the first place as it was just the case of underaged magic but the ministry is still on edge about Harry Potter. Polaris took the hat of the purple cloak she wore and draped it over her head, making her way towards the hearing in fast steps. She was quite glad that they had vowed for silence, a way to protect the people that are a part of the Wizengamot in case of revenge from an unhappy result.
They waited a while before Polaris heard Harry gasp. Polaris could only guess it was because of the, well, dark atmosphere in the hall.
The walls were made of dark stone, only slightly lit by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of Harry, but in the highest benches of all were many shadowy figures, including Polaris. Many had been talking in low voices, but as the heavy door swung closed behind Harry an definite silence fell.
A cold male voice rang across the courtroom. "You're late."
"Sorry," said Harry nervously. "I-I didn't know the time had changed."
"That is not the Wizengamot's fault," said the voice. "An owl was sent to you this morning. Take your seat."
Polaris wondered if there really was an owl sent to him this morning. She watched as Harry dropped his gaze to the chair in the center of the room, the arms were covered in chains. Harry's footsteps echoed loudly as he walked across the stone floor. When he sat on the edge of the chair the chains clinked rather threateningly but did not bind him. Harry looked up at the people seated at the bench above and made eye contact with Polaris. She looked at him with soft eyes, the softest Harry had ever seen them.
There were about fifty people in the Wizengamot, all wearing plum-colored robes with an elaborately worked silver W on the left hand side of the chest and all staring down at him, some with very strict expressions, others looks of frank curiosity and then Harry saw Polaris in the far back of them all, a calm expression on her face.
In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. A broad, square-jawed witch with very short gray hair sat on Fudge's left, she wore a monocle and looked forbidding. It was Amelia Bones, one of the only witches Polaris could properly stand in the Wizemgamot. On Fudge's right was another witch but she was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was in shadow. Polaris knew it was Dolores Umbridge, a witch that often looked at her with a strange look.
