"Based on the testimony of Rubeus Hagrid and the memory provided by the defendant, Harry James Potter is found not guilty of involuntary manslaughter. The magic that resulted in a Muggle's death is classified as an accidental Magical Outburst. Dennis Kunt's parents are required to pay for the wand their son broke while attacking the defendant. Proceedings will be brought against Petunia and Vernon Dursley to remove their guardianship of Harry Potter," Amelia Bones declared in an official tone.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He had feared right up until the last moment that they would send him to prison.
When Dennis burst into flames, Harry had been too terrified to move, let alone run away or help. But when Dennis, engulfed in fire and screaming in pain, came toward him, Harry suddenly found himself able to move again and fled in a panic. The last thing he remembered was the smell of burning flesh.
When he came to, Harry decided that what had happened the previous day must have been a hallucination. The only thing he could think to do was go to the Dursleys'. But as he approached their house, a red flash greeted him.
This time, Harry woke in a cell. Before he could panic, an investigator came over and began taking his statement. Too frightened to hold anything back, Potter told them everything he knew: about Elemental Magic, the torture, and Hagrid.
Soon Hagrid came to see him and explained the situation. Dennis was dead, and Harry was to be tried for murder.
Cases involving the murder of Muggles were not usually given much attention. But with a hero of Magical Britain on trial, the case had been assigned to Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They had even considered appointing Dumbledore or Minister for Magic Fudge as the judge.
Hagrid said Amelia Bones was the worst possible choice. The other two would certainly have acquitted Harry: Dumbledore, in the half-giant's opinion, was the fairest person there was and would understand Harry had not set Dennis on fire on purpose. And Fudge respected Dumbledore, so he would never let them sentence the Boy Who Lived.
Amelia Bones, on the other hand, was very strict. If she was certain of someone's guilt and intent to commit a crime, she could calmly sentence them to anything, even a Dementor's Kiss.
Harry did not know what a Dementor was, but if its kiss was a sentence, it had to be something horrible and disgusting.
The news made Potter withdraw into himself completely. It was not even because of the murder. Harry felt no remorse about Dennis. Maybe Piers had beaten all the feelings out of him. Maybe he simply did not see Dennis as a person, or did not think he was responsible for his death. Harry did not know why, but the fact that he had killed someone did not bother him at all.
The trial ahead worried him far more. Harry was terrified. He was afraid of everything: that they would send him to prison, sentence him to death, or burn him at the stake as witches had been burned in ancient times. He feared the trial itself, the huge crowd staring at him in judgment, Amelia Bones, who would judge him, and even the moment Dennis's parents would testify.
In the end, everyone at the trial saw not the Boy Who Lived, but the Boy Who Was Afraid.
It began terribly. Harry was brought into the courtroom. He looked around, saw a hundred people staring at him, and came up with the most original solution: he ran away.
No one had been guarding him. Nobody expected resistance from an eleven-year-old boy. Hagrid had asked Amelia Bones to reduce the number of people in the courtroom, but she had ignored his request. The second time, Harry was guarded carefully and given no chance to escape.
Every time someone asked him a question, Harry stammered, stumbled over his words, and changed or amended his answer again and again. The answer to one question in particular stuck in the minds of those present:
"Did you intend to harm Dennis Kunt?"
As soon as Harry heard it, he closed his eyes and replied in a muddled voice, "No, of course I didn't want anything to happen to him. Although, no, I mean, yes, I did want it, but only that time, because he was going to burn me. Just that time, not before. I mean, I wanted it other times too, but, well, no, I mean yes, I wanted to... It's complicated."
Even Harry didn't understand what he had said, but everyone was ready to agree with his last statement. It really was complicated.
In the end, with Potter's permission, they decided to take his memories. No one but Harry knew what Amelia Bones had seen in them. But when she lifted her head from the Pensieve, her face deathly pale, many realized there had been nothing good in Harry Potter's memories.
Most of the judges favored finding Harry James Potter guilty, but Amelia Bones used her veto and acquitted him.
Two minutes after the verdict was announced, nearly everyone had left the courtroom, but Harry was still trying to take in what he had heard.
Not guilty?
The cost of the wand?
The Dursleys' guardianship?
What did that mean? Would he no longer live with his aunt and uncle?
Harry worked up the courage to thank Amelia Bones, whom he was terribly afraid of, but she had already left. Hagrid met him at the courtroom exit.
"Well, Harry?"
"They acquitted me, Hagrid. I... I'm not going to live with the Dursleys anymore," Harry managed to say, his tongue barely working.
That was it. He had said it out loud. So it was true.
"No way!" Hagrid blurted. "I mean, congratulations, Harry." The half-giant corrected himself. "But they can't take the Dursleys' guardianship away that quickly. That needs a separate hearing and new guardians."
Guardians? Would he have a new mum and dad?
No way. That sort of thing did not happen. Even if someone took him in, they would be just like the Dursleys, if not worse. There were far too few good people in the world...
Harry knew only one.
But maybe...
"Hagrid," the boy began hesitantly. "Would you, um... would you want to be my guardian?"
Hagrid stared at him, stunned.
Potter sighed.
"Harry," the half-giant said gently, "I can't be your guardian. I live in a hut, and it's small. There's barely enough room for me, and I hardly earn anything. Besides, nothing's been settled with the Dursleys yet. Why don't you talk to Albus Dumbledore about it? Whatever he says, that's what will happen."
Harry nodded, hiding how upset he was.
"Let's go see Amelia Bones and find out what's happening with the Dursleys," Hagrid suggested.
"Great idea!" Harry agreed, nodding eagerly.
Hagrid managed to distract him from his sad thoughts. They found Amelia Bones in her office. She sat calmly, drinking tea, though her face was still noticeably pale.
"Hello, Madam Bones. Harry and I came to find out what's happening with the Dursleys' guardianship," Hagrid said at once.
"Hello, Hagrid. Harry. Please, sit down." Amelia pointed to two armchairs beside her desk. "What I saw in Harry Potter's memories was as horrible as anything that could possibly fit the definition of the word. I know Dumbledore insisted that the Dursleys be the boy's guardians, but what Harry is going through there matters more than Dumbledore's wishes."
"What if Harry doesn't want to leave them?" Hagrid asked.
"I can't do anything without Harry's consent, but I don't think that will be a problem. Right, Harry?" Amelia turned to him.
"Of course!" he replied happily.
"There you are." Amelia smiled. "That's what I thought. I'll try to settle the guardianship issue before the Christmas holidays."
"But what if... what if nobody wants to be my guardian?" Harry asked, voicing the question that worried him most.
Amelia smiled again. "Harry, do you know that you destroyed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when you were still a baby?"
Potter nodded.
"Well, you might be surprised by how many people will want to be your guardians."
"All right, we'll be off. Goodbye, Madam Bones. I'll talk to Headmaster Dumbledore about it," Hagrid said. He beckoned Harry over and led him to the exit.
As Harry left the office, he turned around. "You won't let them leave me with the Dursleys, will you?"
"I'll do everything in my power, Harry," Amelia replied.
For the rest of August, Harry lived in a small room at the Leaky Cauldron, kindly provided by Tom, the owner. It was the happiest time in Potter's life. During those two and a half weeks, Harry had more freedom than he had ever had.
All day, he read books about magic. He didn't clean, do laundry, or go outside, since there were so many people on the street. Of course, after a week, the room had turned into a huge mess, but Harry was still happy. He had discovered what it was like not to be called every two minutes to do a chore, and to spend the whole day doing whatever he wanted.
Harry spent a lot of time with his owl, Element. Hagrid had told him that owls could be given your own food if they couldn't go hunting or their hunt was unsuccessful. Harry treated her as a substitute for a real friend, telling her stories and asking her questions.
"Element, why do you think goblins aren't given wands? What makes goblins worse than wizards?"
Or, "Element, do you happen to know how a luck potion works? A drink can't give someone good luck, right? Otherwise, every wizard would drink it and go to a casino to win millions."
Element stayed silent, sometimes hooting in agreement, but Harry treated her like a sensible conversation partner.
Most of his time, though, he spent reading the textbooks he had bought in Diagon Alley with Hagrid. After two days of nonstop reading, he finished the books on Elemental Magic and moved on to Zhig Myshyakoff's Magical Drafts and Potions, Bathilda Bagshot's A History of Magic, and Adalbert Waffling's A Theory of Magic. Those subjects did not require a wand.
After finishing those, he read Newt Scamander's Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. He was in the middle of it when Hagrid barged in. He really did barge in: the door was barricaded by a huge pile of books.
To say Hagrid was surprised by the state of the room would have been an understatement. Such a quiet, frightened boy, and he had made such a pigsty of the place.
Hagrid made Harry clean up, then took him to get a new wand. At first, Harry wanted to put the pieces of his old wand into a pink umbrella, as Hagrid had done, but Hagrid talked him out of it. The piece of wand hidden in the umbrella was a secret, the half-giant explained, and he didn't want to draw attention to it.
On the way to Ollivanders, Harry tried again to persuade Hagrid to buy him books that weren't on the school list. Hagrid remained firm, but Harry memorized the shop's location and decided he would go there by himself after Hagrid left.
They bought a wand and returned to the room at the Leaky Cauldron. Thirteen inches, acacia, unicorn tail hair, good for casting spells. Harry was pleased with it.
At first, a different wand had chosen Potter: dragon heartstring, ten inches, very rigid. But Harry dug in his heels and refused to take it. He wanted another one because he remembered what had happened to the "very flexible" wand. At last, Ollivander relented and let him try a few more. Or rather, he let another wand choose the boy.
Harry had been eager to try out his new wand, but Hagrid brought him a birthday present, and he forgot all about his plans. Hagrid gave him a big cake with "Happy birthday, Harry" written on it.
Harry started thanking Hagrid profusely again, but Hagrid left at once, claiming he had important business to attend to. Harry wasn't especially hungry, but the cake was so delicious that he managed to eat the whole thing in a day. In his ranking of the most delicious things he had ever tasted, it knocked the cupcake the Dursleys had given him for his eighth birthday out of first place.
For the next couple of days, Harry read and worked up the courage to go to Diagon Alley. After finishing Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and Phyllida Spore's One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, he made his first attempt.
It failed miserably. Just as Potter was about to enter the bookshop, he saw a large, noisy, red-haired family inside. They were chattering, joking, and arguing, all very loudly. Terrified, Harry turned around and ran back to the Leaky Cauldron. Five minutes later, he was in his room, trying to hold back the fear threatening to overwhelm him.
A few strangers lost in their own thoughts made him a little afraid. A large crowd, loudly talking among themselves, filled him with raw terror.
Once he had recovered, he made a second attempt that same evening. There were hardly any people in the streets, and he reached the bookshop without trouble. Only a boy, probably choosing textbooks, and a woman who looked to be between thirty-five and forty, presumably his mother, were inside.
Harry slipped in silently and went to a display of books on protection from fire and concealment. He quickly picked up two and was about to take them to the counter when he came face-to-face with the boy.
He was about Harry's age, with brown eyes, brown hair, and a cheerful expression.
"Hi!" the boy said with a smile.
Harry started to panic, but quickly got ahold of himself. The main thing was not to raise his head, so the stranger wouldn't see the scar beneath his hair. Now he needed to say something.
"Hi," he said, trying to smile.
"Who are you?"
Damn. Why had he asked that?
Potter glanced around. The woman was still arguing with the shopkeeper about something.
"I'm Justin," the boy said. "Justin Finch-Fletchley. Are you going to Hogwarts? I saw you with Hagrid a couple of days ago."
"Uh, well, something like that," Harry mumbled.
"Can you believe Hogwarts has flying lessons, and they didn't tell us first-years anything about them? There wasn't a single book on the list about it. So I came here to buy a book about flying," Justin told him. Apparently, he couldn't wait to share the news with as many people as possible.
"Flying?" Harry asked with interest. He supposed there was no harm in learning more. Justin was keeping his distance and hadn't asked his name. He wasn't holding out a hand to shake, either.
"What flying lessons? Hagrid didn't tell me anything about them," Potter said.
"I only found out today too, and I came straight here to buy a book about it. A lot of people say you can't learn a sport by studying theory without practice, but I think you can learn almost anything from books." Finch-Fletchley looked at him hopefully. "Do you agree?"
Harry didn't know what to say. He couldn't imagine how you could learn to fly from a book. But Justin's parents were surely wizards, and had been teaching him about the wizarding world since he was little. So he probably knew better.
"Yeah, I agree," Harry said uncertainly.
Justin was delighted. "Are you going to get a book about flying?"
"I guess so," Potter replied after thinking it over. If Justin was right, Harry really did need to learn about flying.
"There they are." Finch-Fletchley pointed to a display of enormous purple-pink books with leather covers.
Harry picked one up, took out his money, and began calculating the cost. "All right, one Sickle is twenty-nine Knuts. Thirteen... plus eleven... plus... damn. I'm short."
"I can't get this book. I'm three Knuts short," Harry said sadly. Apparently, he would have to learn the finer points of flying through practice.
"Here." Justin held out three tiny coins.
Harry stared at them in horror. A trap?
"Don't worry about it. You can pay me back when we're at school," his new acquaintance explained, misreading his expression.
Harry cautiously took the coins, careful not to touch the outstretched hand.
"Which house do you want to be in?" Potter asked, surprising himself.
"Uh, well, I don't know what the houses are," Justin said hesitantly.
"Seriously? I thought you knew a lot about the wizarding world."
"No, my parents are Muggles. I only know the basics about the school. You don't have anything against Muggle-borns, do you?"
"Of course not." Harry hadn't even known there was such a term. He felt a strange urge to talk to someone. "I'll explain everything. There are four houses: Gryffindor is for the brave and honest, Hufflepuff for the friendly and hardworking, Ravenclaw for the clever and resourceful, and Slytherin for the cunning and ambitious."
"Well, then, probably Gryffindor," Justin said after thinking it over. "What about you?"
For some reason, Justin's answer made Harry decide Gryffindor really was an excellent choice.
"Probably Gryffindor too. Definitely not Hufflepuff, anyway."
"Justin, come on. I've finished talking to the shopkeeper," called the woman who had come with him.
"Yes, Mum." Justin headed gloomily for the exit. At the door, he turned around. "See you at school! By the way, you never told me your name."
He hadn't asked for his last name, right?
"Harry. My name is Harry."
Harry Potter bought three books and hauled them back to his room. When he put them on the table, he suddenly realized that, for the first time, he had enjoyed talking to someone.