Trial day arrived under a sky that felt heavier than usual.
Rose woke before dawn.
Helios had already been awake.
He had warned her the previous night that although the letter stated eleven o'clock in the morning, the Ministry would almost certainly alter the time at the last minute.
"They'll try to catch you unprepared," he had said. "Arrive early. Always arrive early."
Arthur Weasley offered to escort her personally, his face grave but kind. He seemed far more nervous than Rose felt.
Helios insisted on coming as well.
"I'll sit in the gallery," he said simply.
No one objected.
They left Grimmauld Place early. Tonks met them halfway and volunteered to guide them through the Ministry's labyrinthine corridors.
"You'd be surprised how easy it is to get lost in here," Tonks muttered as they stepped out of the lift into the bustling Atrium. "Or conveniently misdirected."
The Ministry was packed.
Far more crowded than Rose had expected.
Witches and wizards moved in tight clusters. Ministry employees whispered urgently. Journalists lingered near the notice boards.
Helios noticed the tension immediately.
"They've turned this into spectacle," he murmured quietly.
Rose didn't reply, but she had already noticed.
This was not a quiet disciplinary hearing.
This was public theatre.
Arthur approached them briskly, parchment in hand.
"They've moved it," he said, breath slightly hurried. "The time's been changed."
Helios didn't look surprised.
"To eight," Arthur added. "It's starting now."
Rose inhaled slowly.
"I expected that."
She had been prepared for irregularities. Helios had drilled it into her repeatedly — expect manipulation.
They hurried toward the courtroom.
Arthur walked beside Rose through the heavy doors, while Tonks guided Helios upstairs to the visitors' gallery overlooking the chamber.
The Wizengamot was already assembled.
Rows of witches and wizards in plum-coloured robes filled the tiered seats. The golden "W" shimmered behind them. Their expressions were cold. Formal. Judgmental.
Rose stood alone in the centre of the circular floor.
Alone — but not unprepared.
Helios took a seat in the upper gallery, eyes sharp and attentive. He noted the press benches immediately.
The Daily Prophet scribes.
Other lesser-known publications.
And something else—
Wizarding Wireless Network microphones enchanted into the walls.
This was being live broadcast.
Interesting.
Below, the senior undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge, leaned forward with a sickly sweet smile, clearly preparing to begin.
Rose spoke first.
"Before this hearing proceeds," she said clearly, her voice steady and amplified by the chamber's acoustics, "I have a procedural question."
A ripple of surprise moved through the Wizengamot.
Umbridge blinked.
"I beg your pardon?"
Rose lifted a parchment.
"I received formal notice stating that my hearing was scheduled for eleven o'clock this morning."
She glanced at the high clock mounted along the wall.
"It is currently eight."
She allowed the silence to stretch for just a moment.
"According to the Wizengamot Procedural Codex, Section XII, Subsection 4B, any alteration to a scheduled hearing time must be formally notified to the accused no less than forty-eight hours in advance, unless extraordinary circumstances are declared."
She lowered the parchment.
"I received no such declaration."
A murmur began.
Several members of the Wizengamot shifted in their seats.
Helios allowed himself the faintest smile.
Umbridge's smile thinned.
"The Ministry retains the right to adjust scheduling where necessary."
"Certainly," Rose replied calmly. "Under Article Seven of the Magical Judicial Administration Act of 1709 — which requires written explanation and recorded justification."
She tilted her head slightly.
"May I request that documentation be entered into the record?"
That landed harder than any raised voice could have.
The word "record" echoed through the chamber.
Journalists scribbled furiously.
Helios noticed even more quills begin moving in the gallery.
Rose continued, voice measured.
"I would also like clarification as to why my hearing time was changed without lawful notification."
She emphasized the word carefully.
Unlawful.
It rang through the chamber like a struck bell.
Umbridge's lips pressed into a tight line.
"Miss Potter, this is highly irregular—"
"So was the time change," Rose replied evenly.
A few quiet snickers echoed from somewhere in the gallery.
Rose took one more step.
"And I must ask — would this procedural oversight have occurred had I been a pure-blood witch?"
The chamber froze.
Even Helios's posture straightened slightly at that.
That was bold.
It was not a statement she made lightly.
But the implication was clear.
The Daily Prophet scribes nearly tore holes in their parchment with the speed of their writing.
In the gallery, Helios could see the tide shifting already.
The Ministry had intended to place Rose on the defensive.
Instead, she had opened by questioning their legality.
And now the Wizarding Wireless Network carried her voice beyond the courtroom walls.
The Wizengamot members exchanged uneasy glances.
From the very beginning, the Ministry had lost control of the narrative.
The tension in the courtroom stretched thin enough to snap.
Then the heavy doors opened.
A soft murmur rippled across the chamber as Albus Dumbledore strode in, robes sweeping behind him like a deliberate entrance in a staged performance.
To many watching — especially those listening through the Wizarding Wireless Network — it looked like a hero arriving to rescue the accused.
He stopped at the centre, his blue eyes calm.
"I will represent Miss Potter in this hearing," he announced evenly.
There were approving nods among several Wizengamot members.
But before anyone could proceed—
Rose spoke.
"You cannot represent me, Headmaster."
The words were polite.
Dumbledore turned slowly toward her.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You are the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot," Rose continued steadily. "Your position requires impartiality."
The chamber grew very quiet.
"If you represent me," she went on, "it undermines your neutrality in this very body."
Dumbledore held her gaze.
"And I am fully capable of representing myself," Rose replied.
A few quills scratched nervously in the press section.
Dumbledore seemed ready to argue—
Then paused.
He understood.
A public dispute with the accused would not strengthen his image.
Not today.
With a faint nod, he stepped back and moved to his designated seat among the Wizengamot.
That small concession shifted the atmosphere again.
Rose had just refused Dumbledore publicly.
Amelia Bones cleared her throat.
"Let us proceed."
Umbridge rose, parchment clutched in her stubby fingers.
Her tone dripped artificial sweetness.
"Miss Rose Potter stands accused of performing a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-populated area, in direct violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery."
She smiled thinly.
"How do you respond?"
Rose did not hesitate.
"I did not cast any Patronus Charm."
The chamber stirred sharply.
That answer had not been expected.
Umbridge blinked.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I did not cast a Patronus," Rose repeated clearly.
Umbridge sputtered slightly.
"There were witnesses—"
"Witnesses who saw a Patronus in my area," Rose corrected. "Not witnesses who saw me cast it."
A few Wizengamot members exchanged uneasy looks.
Umbridge pressed on. "Are you suggesting that this is a coincidence?"
"I am suggesting," Rose said calmly, "that I am not the only witch or wizard in Britain capable of casting a Patronus."
A faint ripple of restrained amusement moved through the gallery.
Helios leaned back slightly.
Umbridge's face flushed.
"You expect this court to believe that an unknown wizard appeared in your Muggle neighbourhood and performed advanced magic by accident?"
Rose tilted her head.
"It is not my responsibility to identify who cast magic in a Muggle area."
She let the words settle.
"That responsibility belongs to the Ministry."
The word landed hard.
"You are accusing the Ministry of negligence?" Umbridge snapped.
"I am asking why no proper investigation was conducted," Rose replied evenly.
She lifted a parchment.
"I received this letter stating that my wand would be confiscated and that I was expelled from Hogwarts."
Her voice did not waver.
"That letter was sent before any formal hearing."
The parchment was passed to the clerks.
Murmurs increased.
"How," Rose continued, "can the Ministry issue punishment before determining whether I performed the alleged magic?"
The Wizengamot members shifted visibly now.
The accusation had become the accused.
Umbridge's voice grew sharper.
"The Daily Prophet has reported—"
"The Daily Prophet," Rose interrupted gently, "is not an investigative body of magical law."
A few scattered coughs disguised laughter.
Rose took another step forward.
"Furthermore, several days have passed since the alleged incident."
She paused deliberately.
"If I had cast the spell, my wand could have been examined immediately under Priori Incantatem to determine its most recent spells."
That caused several heads to snap toward Umbridge.
She continued calmly.
"Why was my wand not requested for immediate examination?"
Silence.
Because everyone in the room knew the answer.
If the Ministry had acted promptly, they could have confirmed or disproven her claim.
They had not.
"And now," Rose concluded, "any magical residue in the surrounding area would be too diluted for reliable trace detection."
The technical precision of her argument stunned several members.
Amelia Bones leaned forward, eyes sharp with interest.
"You are suggesting," Bones said carefully, "that the Ministry acted prematurely."
Rose met her gaze.
"I am suggesting that I was accused before evidence was gathered."
In the gallery, Helios allowed himself the smallest nod.
The Ministry had hoped to corner her.
Instead, they had revealed their haste.
And haste, in law, smelled like fear.
Umbridge's knuckles were white around her parchment.
"Miss Potter," she said tightly, "are you claiming complete innocence?"
"Yes."
"And you deny casting a Patronus?"
"Yes."
"And you expect this court to believe that you were simply… present?"
"I expect this court," Rose said evenly, "to demand proof before punishment."
The chamber fell into a deep, echoing silence.
For the first time since the hearing began, the Wizengamot did not look ready to condemn her.
They looked uncertain.
And uncertainty meant power had shifted.
The Ministry had tried to put Rose on trial.
But now—
The Ministry itself was being examined.
No one had expected Rose Potter to know the Ministry's procedural codes.
No one had expected her to cite sections and subsections.
And certainly no one had expected her to dismantle the accusation without raising her voice.
Members of the Wizengamot leaned toward one another in quiet discussion.
They could not simply vote.
Not without evidence.
And the Ministry had provided none.
Just an accusation.
Just assumption.
That was not enough.
Dolores Umbridge's face had lost much of its colour. She stood stiffly, parchment trembling slightly in her hands.
They had expected Rose to claim Dementors.
That had been the trap.
If she declared Dementors had attacked her in Little Whinging, then the Ministry could either deny it — making her appear unstable.
But she had done neither.
She had not even mentioned them.
Instead, she had attacked the procedure itself.
It was elegant.
It was devastating.
Rose stood in the centre of the chamber, calm as ever.
"I must also inquire," she said clearly, her voice echoing in the high ceilinged courtroom, "why the entire Wizengamot has been assembled."
A few heads lifted sharply.
"This is an underage magic allegation," she continued. "Such cases are typically handled in a smaller disciplinary hearing."
She let her gaze sweep across the rows of plum robes.
"And yet, every seat is filled."
The implication hung in the air.
"This suggests," she said steadily, "that the Ministry intended to make an example of me."
Murmurs spread.
Umbridge opened her mouth, but Rose spoke over her — not loudly, but decisively.
"I do not know what each of you came here expecting to witness today."
Her voice hardened slightly.
"But I do know that all summer, I have been publicly discredited in the Daily Prophet."
She glanced toward the press benches.
"And now I stand here accused without proof."
The Wizarding Wireless Network microphones carried every word beyond the chamber walls.
Rose took a slow breath.
"If this is how Wizarding Britain treats its citizens, then perhaps I must consider seeking citizenship elsewhere."
That caused an uproar.
Several members sat forward abruptly.
Amelia Bones raised a hand for silence.
"You are suggesting what, Miss Potter?" she asked carefully.
"I am suggesting," Rose replied evenly, "that other magical governments may be more willing to treat me fairly."
"I am the Triwizard Champion," she continued. "I have represented this country with honour."
She paused deliberately.
"And yet my own Ministry attempts to expel me and confiscate my wand without investigation."
The chamber was no longer hostile.
"I should have considered changing my nationality," she added quietly, "the moment my godfather was sent to Azkaban without a trial."
The room went still.
Amelia Bones' sharp eyes narrowed.
"Your godfather?" she repeated.
"Yes," Rose answered. "Sirius Black."
Gasps rippled through the chamber.
Several Wizengamot members exchanged alarmed looks.
"That is a serious allegation," Bones said.
"It is a documented fact," Rose replied calmly. "He was imprisoned without formal trial proceedings."
Even some of the more rigid members shifted uncomfortably.
The implication was unmistakable.
If the Ministry had denied due process once—
What prevented them from doing so again?
Helios, from the gallery, watched carefully.
Rose had done it.
She had turned a disciplinary hearing into a referendum on Ministry integrity.
The Wizengamot could not risk pushing her further.
If Rose Potter — the Triwizard Champion, the Girl Who Lived — publicly sought political asylum in France, or Bulgaria, or any other magical nation—
It would be a humiliation Wizarding Britain could not survive.
And everyone knew that the French would accept her instantly.
Especially given her known friendship with Fleur Delacour.
Amelia Bones conferred briefly with several senior members.
No formal vote was taken. It did not need to be.
The evidence was insufficient.
The procedure flawed.
Amelia Bones rose.
"In the absence of verifiable evidence and due procedural compliance," she declared, "Miss Rose Potter is cleared of all charges."
The chamber erupted into overlapping noise.
Journalists scrambled to record the outcome.
The Wizarding Wireless announcer nearly spoke over himself in haste.
Helios remained seated, composed.
He had known she would win.
But even he had not expected her to dominate the room so completely.
Rose stood still for a moment, then inclined her head.
"Thank you," she said simply.
She turned and walked toward the exit.
The gallery stirred as Helios moved down the steps to meet her at the corridor.
The moment she stepped out of the courtroom doors—
She saw him.
And for the first time that day, her composure broke.
She rushed forward.
Helios barely had time to brace before she threw her arms around him.
"You were right," she whispered fiercely. "Every word."
He allowed himself a faint smile.
"Of course I was."
But then—
Before he could say anything further—
Rose pulled back just enough—
And kissed him.
Squarely.
Right on the mouth.
For a heartbeat, the corridor went silent.
Then—
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
Cameras erupted from every direction.
Journalists who had rushed out of the courtroom captured the moment instantly.
Helios froze.
This—
He had not predicted.
Rose pulled away, cheeks flushed but eyes bright with triumph.
"You're my lucky charm," she grinned.
"Let them write about something true for once."
Behind them, the headlines were already forming.
Today had not gone according to plan at all.
Author's Note:
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