HARRY POTTER STORY: Lions in snake den

Part 37

The day of the trial began under a veil of low, silvery clouds that blotted out the early sunlight. The air around Potter Manor carried a strange, heavy stillness—one that even the distant songbirds seemed to respect. The manor's ancient wards shimmered faintly along the treeline, reacting to the tension within.

Hadrian Potter had been awake for hours before dawn. He hadn't slept much; not because of fear—fear was something he had long learned to master—but because his mind was too sharp, too focused, too calculating to allow rest.
Inside his private study, the glow of enchanted candles cast warm light across walls lined with books and scrolls. The Potter family crest—a rampant stag entwined with the Peverell triangle and a snake coiled through its antlers—hung above the mantle, glinting faintly in the flickering light.

Hadrian stood before a mirror, fastening the last clasp on his formal robe. It was deep emerald with subtle black undertones—chosen not just for its symbolism, but to make a statement. The colors of Slytherin and the House of Potter united in one garment. His signet ring gleamed on his right hand, an ancient heirloom inscribed with runes of protection and authority.
He looked every bit the young lord he was becoming—measured, composed, and dangerously intelligent.

A few steps away, his desk was covered in parchment—legal references, case precedents, and copies of Wizengamot rulings. He'd studied them relentlessly for days. His quill rested in an inkpot beside a neatly written statement—a concise, razor-sharp summary of events, emphasizing self-defense and ministerial negligence.
He exhaled slowly, steadying himself. He knew what today was: not just a trial, but a test. A test of control, influence, and composure. The Ministry didn't just want to punish him for using a spell—they wanted to humiliate him, to remind him that even a Potter could be brought to heel.
But they'd underestimated who they were dealing with.

Hadrian touched his wand lightly to the surface of a small enchanted mirror. "Hermione." The glass shimmered, and his sister's face appeared. Hermione was already dressed in her own formal robes—silver-trimmed, elegant, and sharp. She looked every bit the young heiress she was becoming.

"You're up early," she said softly.
"I never went to sleep," Hadrian replied, half-smiling. "You?" She shook her head. "Too much to think about." Her tone was brisk but her eyes betrayed the worry she was trying to suppress. "I went over the legal texts again. Everything points to corruption in the Ministry's handling of this. They've altered the report—no mention of the Dementors."

Hadrian's jaw tightened. "Cowards. They'll twist the narrative until it fits their agenda."
Hermione hesitated. "Do you think they'll actually expel you?" He met her gaze through the mirror. "They might try. But they won't succeed." His tone carried such certainty that it made her exhale in relief despite herself. "You sound like Grandfather Sal when you say that." Hadrian smirked faintly. "Good. It means I'm learning."

Before Hermione could respond, a knock echoed from the study door. It opened to reveal Sirius Black, dressed sharply—an unusual sight for him. His robes were tailored midnight black with faint silver embroidery, and though his hair was still a touch wild, his eyes were focused.

"Morning, pup," he greeted, stepping inside with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You look terrifyingly professional. Merlin help the Ministry."

"Someone has to remind them that they can't bully anyone they please," Hadrian replied smoothly. Behind Sirius, Remus Lupin entered, his expression calm but watchful. His robes were simple and practical, yet neat—a reflection of the man himself. He looked between Godfather and Godson, his gaze lingering on Hadrian with a mix of pride and quiet apprehension.
"Everything's ready?" Remus asked.
"Almost." Hadrian closed the folder on his desk. "I've reviewed the statutes, prepared the statements, and secured evidence of my innocence. The only thing I can't prepare for is the stupidity of politicians."