Unlike a Sister (Harmione)

Chapter 24: Testimony

The Muggles of Gloucester typically passed the abandoned warehouse near the center of old town without a second thought. But, on a blustery January morning, hundreds of strange people were assembled outside. They wore curiously outdated clothes and held signs. Every time one of the townsfolk tried to read the signs, however, they'd suddenly become very distracted and remember they were terrifically late for another appointment.

The Aurors and officials from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes on site had reminded the protesters to keep their chants to Muggle-appropriate slogans. If directly asked what they were doing, they were to say they were protesting tax hikes to the hydraulic licensing process in the Severn Consortium. No one usually asked questions after that.

His cloak whipping around him, Harry made his way through the line of security wizards and Aurors guarding the entrance, his face impassive as the protestors shouted to him.

The Gloucestershire Division of the Wizengamot was a handsome Regency-era building, its stone the color of wet sand. Inside, a gallery bracketed in ionic columns led the way to a large meeting chamber. By one o'clock, the chamber was close to bursting with over three hundred visitors and journalists. Harry could see at least five Prophet reporters, the Quibbler's law and justice correspondent, two loathsome staffers from The Screeching Mandrake, and dozens of foreign outlets.

Moving down the aisle, he dodged a volley of questions from reporters and took his seat in the first row behind the counselors' tables. Hermione looked around at the commotion caused by his arrival and fleetingly smiled at him before turning back to her whispered conversation with Lakey, Emi, and several assistant counselors.

Edward Bruton-counselor to the defendant-sat at the other table with his own team. Close to ninety, Bruton was a large man with prodigious jowls, crepe-like skin, and an aquiline nose. His eyes glimmered with a dark intelligence, small and black.

Beyond the counselors, Harry could see the carved wooden dais of the witness stand and a long marble panel, behind which seven high-backed chairs were arranged in a row.

"Call to order!" shouted a man next to a side door. "Rise for the honorable members of the Wizengamot of Gloucestershire."

The journalists and spectators scrambled to their seats and the chamber fell silent. The side door opened and seven wizards and witches filed in. They wore crimson robes lined in gold with ceremonial wigs. Despite the regalia, Harry recognized most of them. Three were serving lifetime appointments, four were elected. Two of the appointed judges were from the Fudge era, the other appointed by Minister Shacklebolt. And then there was the other consideration: four of the magistrates were purebloods, two were half-bloods, and one was a Muggle-born.

One of the appointed judges-an elderly man with a grooved face and a shock of white hair-took the center chair, his colleagues arranged around him.

"The honorable Gaheris Fawley presiding," finished the court attendant.

"Be seated," said Judge Fawley, his voice craggy and deep like a cavern in a storm. "The guards will bring in the accused."

Another door opened and there stood Theodonus Callahan. A ripple moved through the chamber as the ex-Auror was brought forward by two security wizards, the photographers in the press box contorting themselves to find the best angle.

Callahan was much changed since Harry last saw him in the holding cells at Stonehouse. He wore clean, formal robes. His dark blond hair was neat and combed back. He was clean-shaven and wore square-rimmed glasses Harry had never seen before. They gave him an air of bookish benignity.

He was directed to a chair near Bruton's table and the former Auror looked around. Briefly, his and Harry's eyes met. And, just before the younger man turned back to magistrates, Harry thought he saw the corners of his lips quirk.