It's All Just Temporary with a Bit of Necromancy

Chapter 29: All Rise

All Rise

Harry focused on taking deep breaths.

He didn't focus on the loud chatter that echoed within the vaulted ceilings of the courtroom. He didn't focus on the two chairs in the center of the room with chains attached to the arms. He didn't focus on how tight his chest felt at the sight. He ignored the stadium seating of the Wizengamot members, all dressed in plum-colored robes. He didn't focus on the extra stage protruding from the stadium seating, holding the four chairs of the case's preceding individuals. He didn't think about how grateful he was for being kept in a separate section from everyone else so he wouldn't have to deal with people sitting next to him — pressing against him.

Harry only focused on his breathing, taking one breath after the next.

Most of all, Harry just kept reminding himself that he wasn't the one on trial. He was just a witness, the victim. No matter the outcome, once this whole nightmare of a day was over, he would be returning home to Slytherin Manor, where Marvolo would be waiting for him.

Dumbledore sat directly across from him on the other side of the courtroom in the defendant's witness section. The man had dressed in midnight blue robes with glittering stars. Harry could picture him with a stereotypical muggle wizard's hat and thought the Headmaster fit the caricature well. Dumbledore hadn't even bothered to glance at him. Instead, the man calmly sat, observing the courtroom as everyone found their seats. This room wasn't too different from the one Harry had been tried in just over a year ago. Except for this time, there were far more people. The guest seating was standing room only, and the front row was filled with reporters. Rita Skeeter winked at him, and Harry felt nauseous.

He really didn't want to be here. He wanted justice to be served, but he really didn't want to think about that week during the summer. Didn't want to think about how drastically his life changed because of the actions of that week. Harry was doing so much now; he didn't want to think of the past. He could still feel his nerves twisting tighter in his stomach.

Marvolo had assured him that he wouldn't come off as weak. If anything, Harry would gain approval ratings out of sympathy alone. Harry had ranted at Marvolo for an hour about how much he hated pity and sympathy and just wanted people to approve of him for the things he wanted to do. Marvolo had told him to accept whatever approval he received no matter how he got it to turn his ideas into reality. Harry had gone flying until dinner after that.

"All rise," a large wizard declared from the side door. The room fell silent as everyone stood. The wizard opened a scroll and proceeded to read off of it. "Presiding over the trial of Harry Potter v. Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt is the Honorable Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, the Honorable Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones, the Honorable Interim Chief Witch Augusta Longbottom, and the Honorable Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour."

The four people announced strode into the room and claimed their seats on the protruding stage, all dressed in stiff black robes. Augusta had been voted in as Interim Chief Witch just an hour ago. It was believed that waiting until the morning of the trial would prevent corruption. Harry didn't think waiting until the last minute helped much of anything since everything had been decided days ago over fancy dinners and persuasive lunches.

Once the four people sat down, the rest of the courtroom did the same. Harry tried not to fidget on his uncomfortable wooden bench.

"Bring in the accused," the wizard bellowed again.

The side door opened once again, and four red-robed Aurors escorted Shacklebolt and Moody into the room. The Aurors guided the accused to the two chairs sitting in the middle of the open floor and adjusted the chains to only encircle their wrists, leaving their legs free. Moody and Kingsley did not look good, even though they were held in the holding cells attached to the Auror Office and not Azkaban. Kingsley, in particular, looked haggard, ashen, and drawn. Moody had lost a significant amount of weight, and his scars and injuries looked more prominent because of it. Moody's magical eye had been removed, leaving just a grotesque indented hole in the man's face.