CH 56

Madam Marchbanks intoned, "Vernon Winston Dursley, Petunia Anne Dursley nee Evans, you have been charged with ten counts of child abuse physical; ten counts of child abuse psychological; ten counts of child neglect; ten counts of child endangerment; and attempting, through ongoing abuse physical and psychological, to end the line of a Noble and Most Ancient House. How do you plead to the charges."

"I do not recognise this injustice!" bawled Vernon with venom. "You're only freaks! We only recognise the authority of the realcourt system of the United Kingdom, not this nonsense..."

"Silence!" bellowed Madam Marchbanks again.

Again, Vernon's jaw snapped shut.

"Your plea of not guilty has been entered into the record. And you, Madam Dursley, how do you plead?"

"Not guilty!" she haughtily replied.

"Very well," said Madam Marchbanks. "So entered." The old witch then turned to Madam Bones and said, "Madam Bones, please present your case." What followed was like a revisited horror story for Harry. All the memories he had given to Madam Bones of growing up with the Dursleys were put on display above the pensieve that had been brought in for that purpose. They weren't all of his memories, but they were indicting enough.

Other memories were also played. Memories from someone else. These memories were of aurors going to Privett Drive to talk to the Dursleys and being verbally abused. Vernon had even tried to hit one of them, requiring the auror to hit him with a Petrification Curse. There were memories of a minute inspection of the cupboard under the stairs, of Dudley's bedroom, and that there was a spare bedroom that was partly full of Dudley's things, mostly broken. A running commentary of what was found was provided by an auror clearly speaking to the record of the memory. During the whole time the memories were playing, Daphne had developed almost a death grip on Harry's arm. From only a few minutes in she had buried her head into his shoulder and was softly weeping. He asked her once in a whisper if he should take her outside. She refused, saying she would sit through it all, even if she couldn't watch a lot of it.

At one point Harry told her to look at Dumbledore's face. The old man was sitting there, openly weeping. It wasn't an act.

On a few occasions different people vomited. The mess was very quickly vanished.

When the whole display was finished, the room sat in utter silence.

It took a good few seconds before Madam Marchbanks looked to Amelia and asked for other evidence against the accused. Madam Bones stood and read out the list of injuries that Harry was suffering from when he was brought into Saint Mungo's. There were quite a few and it took several minutes to read through the list.

When she was done Amelia said, "I can have the healers brought in to give evidence to confirm or clarify this information if it is the wish of the court."

"No," said Madam Marchbanks is a near croak. "I don't think it will be necessary."

After a few calming breaths she asked, "Is there any further evidence against the accused?"

"No, Madam Marchbanks," replied Amelia.

Harry heard one lone voice say quite clearly, "Thank Merlin!" is a very heartfelt manner. Madam Marchbanks then turned to the accused pair and said, "Mister and Missus Dursley, in the pursuit of fairness, do you have any evidence to provide in your defence?"

Again, Vernon near bellowed out in a snarl, "The freak deserved all of it! I intend to break your freakishness out of him if it's the last thing I do! And how dare you freaks invade my home and kidnap us! When the real police hear about this they'll take care of you all, thank you very much! They know I'm a fine..."

"Silence!" bellowed Madam Marchbanks for a third time.

Again, Vernon's jaw snapped shut.

Looking at Petunia, she said, "And you, Missus Dursley? Our records indicate you are the blood relative of Mister Potter being the younger sister of his mother. Is that correct?"

Petunia, with tears rolling down her cheeks, simply nodded.

"And you have been aware of magic and the magical world since you were a small child. Is this correct?"

Again, Petunia simply nodded. This time with her head bowed.

"Missus Dursley," said the old witch with an angry voice. "I knew your sister quite well. She was considered the brightest witch, or wizard, of her generation. She fought against the evil that was ripping our world apart, the same evil that would have eventually ripped your own world apart. In essence, she fought for you and your way of life. And she gave her life for it.

"How you could then do this..." she gestured to where the pensieve sat on its plinth "...to your own nephew, to her own child, to the one we consider one of our greatest heroes, simply horrifies me."

Hesitating for a few moments, Madam Marchbanks then said, "Petunia Dursley, do you have any evidence to provide in your own defence?"

"We never wanted him," she began. "He was dumped on us without us being asked. If we were asked, we would have said, we didn't want him."

With her voice gaining strength and anger she said, "But, no. Albus-bloody-Dumbledore said we had to take him in. We hadto provide him a home. He didn't even have the decency to come and discuss it with us. He dumped the baby freak on our doorstep with a letter on top. A letter! "In his letter, he said that, as long as Harry could call our home his home, there were blood wards - in place to protect us. To protect us from freaks like you! Well, they didn't do much good, did they? You still came and ruined our lives!

"Why won't you people leave us alone?" she near-screamed. "We don't want any part of your world. We just want to be ordinary people, free to live our lives the way we want!" before subsiding into wails and sobbing.

Waiting a few moments for Petunia to subside again, Madam Marchbanks said, "As there is no further evidence to present. I now call..."

Surging to his feet, Harry called, "Wait!"

Angry mutterings came from the tiers as Madam Marchbanks banged her gavel on the bench a couple of times. "And, who are you to interrupt this trial, young man?" she asked with a stern expression.

Standing up straight, Harry Replied in a firm but carrying voice, "Harry James Potter. Heir Apparent to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter."

Madam Marchbanks stared back for a few moments while ignoring the mutterings going on around her. When the noise subsided again, she said, "I see. Well, if there is anyone who has the right to interrupt this trial, it's you. What can we do for you, young man?"

Firmly, he said, "I wish to speak in defence of my aunt and uncle, Vernon and Petunia Dursley."

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