Chapter 8 The Hearing

Harry gasped; he could not help himself. The large dungeon he had entered was horribly familiar. He had not only seen it before, he had been here before. This was the place he had visited inside Dumbledore's Pensieve, the place where he had watched the Lestranges sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban.

The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of him, but ahead, in the highest benches of all, were many shadowy figures. They had been talking in low voices, but as the heavy door swung closed behind Harry an ominous silence fell.

A cold male voice rang across the courtroom.

‘You're late.’

‘Sorry,’ said Harry nervously. ‘I—I didn't know the time had been changed.’

‘That is not the Wizengamot's fault,’ said the voice. ‘An owl was sent to you this morning. Take your seat.’

Harry dropped his gaze to the chair in the centre of the room, the arms of which were covered in chains. He had seen those chains spring to life and bind whoever sat between them. His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked across the stone floor. When he sat gingerly on the edge of the chair the chains clinked threateningly, but did not bind him. Feeling rather sick, he looked up at the people seated at the bench above.

There were about fifty of them, all, as far as he could see, wearing plum-coloured robes with an elaborately worked silver ‘W’ on the left-hand side of the chest and all staring down their noses at him, some with very austere expressions, others looks of frank curiosity.

In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic. Fudge was a portly man who often sported a lime-green bowler hat, though today he had dispensed with it; he had dispensed too with the indulgent smile he had once worn when he spoke to Harry. A broad, square-jawed witch with very short grey hair sat on Fudges left; she wore a monocle and looked forbidding. On Fudges right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was in shadow.

‘Very well,’ said Fudge. ‘The accused being present—finally—let us begin. Are you ready?’ he called down the row.

‘Yes, sir,’ said an eager voice Harry knew. Ron's brother Percy was sitting at the very end of the front bench. Harry looked at Percy, expecting some sign of recognition from him, but none came. Percy's eyes, behind his horn-rimmed glasses, were fixed on his parchment, a quill poised in his hand.

‘Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August,’ said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, ‘into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

‘Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley—’

‘—Witness for the defence, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,’ said a quiet voice from behind Harry, who turned his head so fast he cricked his neck.

Dumbledore was striding serenely across the room wearing long midnight-blue robes and a perfectly calm expression. His long silver beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with Harry and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose.

The members of the Wizengamot were muttering. All eyes were now on Dumbledore. Some looked annoyed, others slightly frightened; two elderly witches in the back row, however, raised their hands and waved in welcome.

A powerful emotion had risen in Harry's chest at the sight of Dumbledore, a fortified, hopeful feeling rather like that which phoenix song gave him. He wanted to catch Dumbledore's eye, but Dumbledore was not looking his way; he was continuing to look up at the obviously flustered Fudge.

‘Ah,’ said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. ‘Dumbledore. Yes. You—er—got our—er— message that the time and—er—place of the hearing had been changed, then?’

‘I must have missed it,’ said Dumbledore cheerfully. ‘However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done.’

‘Yes—well—I suppose we'll need another chair—I—Weasley, could you—?’

‘Not to worry, not to worry,’ said Dumbledore pleasantly; he took out his wand, gave it a little flick, and a squashy chintz armchair appeared out of nowhere next to Harry. Dumbledore sat down, put the tips of his long fingers together and surveyed Fudge over them with an expression of polite interest. The Wizengamot was still muttering and fidgeting restlessly; only when Fudge spoke again did they settle down.

‘Yes,’ said Fudge again, shuffling his notes. ‘Well, then. So. The charges. Yes.’

He extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read out, ‘The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the second of August at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offence under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks’ Statute of Secrecy.

‘You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?’ Fudge said, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment.

‘Yes,’ Harry said.

‘You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?’ said Fudge.

‘Yes,’ said Harry, ‘but—’

‘Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry angrily, ‘but I only used it because we were—’

The witch with the monocle cut across him in a booming voice.

‘You produced a fully-fledged Patronus?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry, ‘because—’

‘A corporeal Patronus?’

‘A—what?’ said Harry.

‘Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapour or smoke?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry, feeling both impatient and slightly desperate, ‘it's a stag, it's always a stag.’

‘Always?’ boomed Madam Bones. ‘You have produced a Patronus before now?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry, ‘I've been doing it for over a year.’

‘And you are fifteen years old?’

‘Yes, and—’

‘You learned this at school?’

‘Yes, Professor Lupin taught me in my third year, because of the—’

‘Impressive,’ said Madam Bones, staring down at him, ‘a true Patronus at his age ... very impressive indeed.’

Some of the wizards and witches around her were muttering again; a few nodded, but others were frowning and shaking their heads.

‘It's not a question of how impressive the magic was,’ said Fudge in a testy voice, ‘in fact, the more impressive the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the boy did it in plain view of a Muggle!’

Those who had been frowning now murmured in agreement, but it was the sight of Percy's sanctimonious little nod that goaded Harry into speech.

‘I did it because of the dementors!’ he said loudly, before anyone could interrupt him again.

He had expected more muttering, but the silence that fell seemed to be somehow denser than before.

‘Dementors?’ said Madam Bones after a moment, her thick eyebrows rising until her monocle looked in danger of falling out. ‘What do you mean, boy?’

‘I mean there were two dementors down that alleyway and they went for me and my cousin!’

‘Ah,’ said Fudge again, smirking unpleasantly as he looked around at the Wizengamot, as though inviting them to share the joke. ‘Yes. Yes, I thought we'd be hearing something like this.’

‘Dementors in Little Whinging?’ Madam Bones said, in a tone of great surprise. ‘I don't understand—’

‘Don't you, Amelia?’ said Fudge, still smirking. ‘Let me explain. He's been thinking it through and decided dementors would make a very nice little cover story, very nice indeed. Muggles can't see dementors, can they, boy? Highly convenient, highly convenient ... so it's just your word and no witnesses....’

‘I'm not lying!’ said Harry loudly, over another outbreak of muttering from the court. ‘There were two of them, coming from opposite ends of the alley everything went dark and cold and my cousin felt them and ran for it—’

‘Enough, enough!’ said Fudge, with a very supercilious look on his face. ‘I'm sorry to interrupt what I'm sure would have been a very well-rehearsed story—’

Dumbledore cleared his throat. The Wizengamot fell silent again.

‘We do, in fact, have a witness to the presence of dementors in that alleyway,’ he said, ‘other than Dudley Dursley, I mean.’

Fudge's plump face seemed to slacken, as though somebody had let air out of it. He stared down at Dumbledore for a moment or two, then, with the appearance of a man pulling himself back together, said, ‘We haven't got time to listen to more tarradiddles, I'm afraid, Dumbledore. I want this dealt with quickly—’

‘I may be wrong,’ said Dumbledore pleasantly, ‘but I am sure that under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the accused has the right to present witnesses for his or her case? Isn't that the policy of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones?’ he continued, addressing the witch in the monocle.

‘True,’ said Madam Bones. ‘Perfectly true.’

‘Oh, very well, very well,’ snapped Fudge. ‘Where is this person?’

‘I brought her with me,’ said Dumbledore. ‘She's just outside the door. Should I—?’

‘No—Weasley, you go,’ Fudge barked at Percy, who got up at once, ran down the stone steps from the judge's balcony and hurried past Dumbledore and Harry without glancing at them.

A moment later, Percy returned, followed by Mrs. Figg. She looked scared and more batty than ever. Harry wished she had thought to change out of her carpet slippers.

Dumbledore stood up and gave Mrs. Figg his chair, conjuring a second one for himself.

‘Full name?’ said Fudge loudly, when Mrs. Figg had perched herself nervously on the very edge of her seat.

‘Arabella Doreen Figg,’ said Mrs. Figg in her quavery voice.

‘And who exactly are you?’ said Fudge, in a bored and lofty voice.

‘I'm a resident of Little Whinging, close to where Harry Potter lives,’ said Mrs. Figg.

‘We have no record of any witch or wizard living in Little Whinging, other than Harry Potter,’ said Madam Bones at once. ‘That situation has always been closely monitored, given ... given past events.’

‘I'm a Squib,’ said Mrs. Figg. ‘So you wouldn't have me registered, would you?’

‘A Squib, eh?’ said Fudge, eyeing her closely. ‘We'll be checking that. You'll leave details of your parentage with my assistant, Weasley. Incidentally, can Squibs see dementors?’ he added, looking left and right along the bench.

‘Yes, we can!’ said Mrs. Figg indignantly.

Fudge looked back down at her, his eyebrows raised. ‘Very well,’ he said aloofly. ‘What is your story?’

‘I had gone out to buy cat food from the corner shop at the end of Wisteria Walk, around about nine o'clock, on the evening of the second of August,’ gabbled Mrs. Figg at once, as though she had learned what she was saying by heart, ‘when I heard a disturbance down the alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. On approaching the mouth of the alleyway I saw dementors running—’

‘Running?’ said Madam Bones sharply. ‘Dementors don't run, they glide.’

‘That's what I meant to say,’ said Mrs. Figg quickly, patches of pink appearing in her withered cheeks. ‘Gliding along the alley towards what looked like two boys.’

‘What did they look like?’ said Madam Bones, narrowing her eyes so that the edge of the monocle disappeared into her flesh.

‘Well, one was very large and the other one rather skinny—’

‘No, no,’ said Madam Bones impatiently. ‘The dementors ... describe them.’

‘Oh,’ said Mrs Figg, the pink flush creeping up her neck now. ‘They were big. Big and wearing cloaks.’

Harry felt a horrible sinking in the pit of his stomach. Whatever Mrs. Figg might say, it sounded to him as though the most she had ever seen was a picture of a dementor, and a picture could never convey the truth of what these beings were like: the eerie way they moved, hovering inches over the ground, or the rotting smell of them, or that terrible rattling noise they made as they sucked on the surrounding air....

In the second row, a dumpy wizard with a large black moustache leaned close to whisper in the ear of his neighbour, a frizzy-haired witch. She smirked and nodded.

‘Big and wearing cloaks,’ repeated Madam Bones coolly, while Fudge snorted derisively. ‘I see. Anything else?’

‘Yes,’ said Mrs Figg. ‘I felt them. Everything went cold, and this was a very warm summer's night, mark you. And I felt ... as though all happiness had gone from the world ... and I remembered ... dreadful things....’

Her voice shook and died.

Madam Bones's eyes widened slightly. Harry could see red marks under her eyebrow where the monocle had dug into it.

‘What did the dementors do?’ she asked, and Harry felt a rush of hope.

‘They went for the boys,’ said Mrs. Figg, her voice stronger and more confident now, the pink flush ebbing away from her face. ‘One of them had fallen. The other was backing away, trying to repel the dementor. That was Harry. He tried twice and produced only silver vapour. On the third attempt, he produced a Patronus, which charged down the first dementor and then, with his encouragement, chased the second one away from his cousin. And that ... that is what happened,’ Mrs. Figg finished, somewhat lamely.

Madam Bones looked down at Mrs. Figg in silence. Fudge was not looking at her at all, but fidgeting with his papers. Finally, he raised his eyes and said, rather aggressively, ‘That's what you saw, is it?’

‘That is what happened,’ Mrs. Figg repeated.

‘Very well,’ said Fudge. ‘You may go.’

Mrs. Figg cast a frightened look from Fudge to Dumbledore, then got up and shuffled off towards the door. Harry heard it thud shut behind her.

‘Not a very convincing witness,’ said Fudge loftily.

‘Oh, I don't know,’ said Madam Bones, in her booming voice. ‘She certainly described the effects of a dementor attack very accurately. And I can't imagine why she would say they were there if they weren't.’

‘But dementors wandering into a Muggle suburb and just happening to come across a wizard?’ snorted Fudge. The odds on that must be very, very long. Even Bagman wouldn't have bet—’

‘Oh, I don't think any of us believe the dementors were there by coincidence,’ said Dumbledore lightly.

The witch sitting to the right of Fudge, with her face in shadow, moved slightly but everyone else was quite still and silent.

‘And what is that supposed to mean?’ Fudge asked icily.

‘It means that I think they were ordered there,’ said Dumbledore.

‘I think we might have a record of it if someone had ordered a pair of dementors to go strolling through Little Whinging!’ barked Fudge.

‘Not if the dementors are taking orders from someone other than the Ministry of Magic these days,’ said Dumbledore calmly. ‘I have already given you my views on this matter, Cornelius.’

‘Yes, you have,’ said Fudge forcefully, ‘and I have no reason to believe that your views are anything other than bilge, Dumbledore. The dementors remain in place in Azkaban and are doing everything we ask them to.’

‘Then,’ said Dumbledore, quietly but clearly, ‘we must ask ourselves why somebody within the Ministry ordered a pair of dementors into that alleyway on the second of August.’

In the complete silence that greeted these words, the witch to the right of Fudge leaned forwards so that Harry saw her for the first time.

He thought she looked just like a large, pale toad. She was rather squat with a broad, flabby face, as little neck as Uncle Vernon and a very wide, slack mouth. Her eyes were large, round and slightly bulging. Even the little black velvet bow perched on top of her short curly hair put him in mind of a large fly she was about to catch on a long sticky tongue.

‘The Chair recognises Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister,’ said Fudge.

The witch spoke in a fluttery, girlish, high-pitched voice that took Harry aback; he had been expecting a croak.

‘I'm sure I must have misunderstood you, Professor Dumbledore,’ she said, with a simper that left her big, round eyes as cold as ever. ‘So silly of me. But it sounded for a teensy moment as though you were suggesting that the Ministry of Magic had ordered an attack on this boy!’

She gave a silvery laugh that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up. A few other members of the Wizengamot laughed with her. It could not have been plainer that not one of them was really amused.

‘If it is true that the dementors are taking orders only from the Ministry of Magic, and it is also true that two dementors attacked Harry and his cousin a week ago, then it follows logically that somebody at the Ministry might have ordered the attacks,’ said Dumbledore politely. ‘Of course, these particular dementors may have been outside Ministry control—’

‘There are no dementors outside Ministry control!’ snapped Fudge, who had turned brick red.

Dumbledore inclined his head in a little bow.

‘Then undoubtedly the Ministry will be making a full inquiry into why two dementors were so very far from Azkaban and why they attacked without authorisation.’

‘It is not for you to decide what the Ministry of Magic does or does not do, Dumbledore!’ snapped Fudge, now a shade of magenta of which Uncle Vernon would have been proud.

‘Of course it isn't,’ said Dumbledore mildly. ‘I was merely expressing my confidence that this matter will not go uninvestigated.’

He glanced at Madam Bones, who readjusted her monocle and stared back at him, frowning slightly.

‘I would remind everybody that the behaviour of these dementors, if indeed they are not figments of this boy's imagination, is not the subject of this hearing!’ said Fudge. ‘We are here to examine Harry Potter's offences under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery!’

‘Of course we are,’ said Dumbledore, ‘but the presence of dementors in that alleyway is highly relevant. Clause Seven of the Decree states that magic may be used before Muggles in exceptional circumstances, and as those exceptional circumstances include situations which threaten the life of the wizard or witch himself, or any witches, wizards or Muggles present at the time of the—’

‘We are familiar with Clause Seven, thank you very much!’ snarled Fudge.

‘Of course you are,’ said Dumbledore courteously. ‘Then we are in agreement that Harry's use of the Patronus Charm in these circumstances falls precisely into the category of exceptional circumstances the clause describes?’

‘If there were dementors, which I doubt.’

‘You have heard it from an eyewitness,’ Dumbledore interrupted.

‘If you still doubt her truthfulness, call her back, question her again. I am sure she would not object.’

‘I—that—not—’ blustered Fudge, fiddling with the papers before him. ‘It's—I want this over with today, Dumbledore!’

‘But naturally, you would not care how many times you heard from a witness, if the alternative was a serious miscarriage of justice,’ said Dumbledore.

‘Serious miscarriage, my hat!’ said Fudge at the top of his voice. ‘Have you ever bothered to tot up the number of cock-and-bull stories this boy has come out with, Dumbledore, while trying to cover up his flagrant misuse of magic out of school? I suppose you've forgotten the Hover Charm he used three years ago—’

‘That wasn't me, it was a house-elf!’ said Harry.

‘YOU SEE?’ roared Fudge, gesturing flamboyantly in Harry's direction. ‘A house-elf! In a Muggle house! I ask you—’

‘The house-elf in question is currently in the employ of Hogwarts School,’ said Dumbledore. ‘I can summon him here in an instant to give evidence if you wish.’

‘I—not—I haven't got time to listen to house-elves! Anyway, that's not the only—he blew up his aunt, for God's sake!’ Fudge shouted, banging his fist on the judge's bench and upsetting a bottle of ink.

‘And you very kindly did not press charges on that occasion, accepting, I presume, that even the best wizards cannot always control their emotions,’ said Dumbledore calmly, as Fudge attempted to scrub the ink off his notes.

‘And I haven't even started on what he gets up to at school—’

‘But, as the Ministry has no authority to punish Hogwarts students for misdemeanours at school, Harry's behaviour there is not relevant to this hearing,’ said Dumbledore, as politely as ever, but now with a suggestion of coolness behind his words.

‘Oho!’ said Fudge. ‘Not our business what he does at school, eh? You think so?’

‘The Ministry does not have the power to expel Hogwarts students, Cornelius, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Nor does it have the right to confiscate wands until charges have been successfully proven, again, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August, in your admirable haste to ensure that the law is upheld, you appear, inadvertently I am sure, to have overlooked a few laws yourself.’

‘Laws can be changed,’ said Fudge savagely.

‘Of course they can,’ said Dumbledore, inclining his head. ‘And you certainly seem to be making many changes, Cornelius. Why, in the few short weeks since I was asked to leave the Wizengamot, it has already become the practice to hold a full criminal trial to deal with a simple matter of underage magic!’

A few of the wizards above them shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Fudge turned a slightly deeper shade of puce. The toadlike witch on his right, however, merely gazed at Dumbledore, her face quite expressionless.

‘As far as I am aware,’ Dumbledore continued, ‘there is no law yet in place that says this court's job is to punish Harry for every bit of magic he has ever performed. He has been charged with a specific offence and he has presented his defence. All he and I can do now is to await your verdict.’

Dumbledore put his fingertips together again and said no more. Fudge glared at him, evidently incensed. Harry glanced sideways at Dumbledore, seeking reassurance; he was not at all sure that Dumbledore was right in telling the Wizengamot, in effect, that it was about time they made a decision. Again, however, Dumbledore seemed oblivious to Harry's attempt to catch his eye. He continued to look up at the benches where the entire Wizengamot had fallen into urgent, whispered conversations.

Harry looked at his feet. His heart, which seemed to have swollen to an unnatural size, was thumping loudly under his ribs. He had expected the hearing to last longer than this. He was not at all sure that he had made a good impression. He had not really said very much. He ought to have explained more fully about the dementors, about how he had fallen over, about how both he and Dudley had nearly been kissed....

Twice he looked up at Fudge and opened his mouth to speak, but his swollen heart was now constricting his air passages and both times he merely took a deep breath and looked back down at his shoes.

Then the whispering stopped. Harry wanted to look up at the judges, but found that it was really much, much easier to keep examining his laces.

‘Those in favour of clearing the witness of all charges?’ said Madam Boness booming voice.

Harry's head jerked upwards. There were hands in the air, many of them ... more than half! Breathing very fast, he tried to count, but before he could finish, Madam Bones had said, ‘And those in favour of conviction?’

Fudge raised his hand; so did half a dozen others, including the witch on his right and the heavily-moustached wizard and the frizzy-haired witch in the second row.

Fudge glanced around at them all, looking as though there was something large stuck in his throat, then lowered his own hand. He took two deep breaths and said, in a voice distorted by suppressed rage, ‘Very well, very well ... cleared of all charges.’

‘Excellent,’ said Dumbledore briskly, springing to his feel, pulling out his wand and causing the two chintz armchairs to vanish. ‘Well, I must be getting along. Good day to you all.’

And without looking once at Harry, he swept from the dungeon.

哈利现在气喘吁吁；他现在只有自救。他曾经进入过和这里差不多恐怖的地牢。哈利以前既没有看过这里。也没有来过这里。但是，他在丹伯多的记忆盆中曾经访问过这里，在这个地方他看见雷斯坚被判在阿滋卡班终生监禁。

　　墙壁是由黑色的石头构成的，火炬发出昏暗的光线。他的两边是空空的长椅，但是在顶头一排最高的长椅上有许多阴影。他们都在小声说话，但是当哈利身后的大门轰然关闭的时候，大厅里充满的不祥的寂静。

　　一个冷漠的声音在审判庭中响起。

　　“你迟到了。”

　　“对不起，”哈利紧张不安的说道，“我—我不知道时间改变了。”

　　“那不是陪审团的过错，”这个声音说道，“今天早晨已经给你家派了一只猫头鹰。坐下吧。”

　　哈利低头仔细观察审判庭中间的椅子，椅子的扶手上隐藏着镣铐。他看见过这些镣铐象有生命一般弹出来固定住任何坐在椅子里面的人。他通过石头地面走够去，脚步的回声显得格外响亮。当哈利小心翼翼的坐到椅子边缘的时候，镣铐发出威胁的叮当声，但是并没有锁住他。哈利的感觉更加不舒服了，他抬起头看着坐在上面那排长椅上的人。

　　从他能够看见的数目估计，大约有五十个人坐在那里，他们都穿着李子色的长袍，在长袍胸前左边的位置上绣着一个做工精美的银色“W”的字样，所有人都从鼻子下方凝视着他，有些人脸上带着一丝不苟的表情，而其他人看上去则十分的好奇。

　　在前排正中间的位置上坐着法尼治·福吉，魔法大臣。福吉是一个身体肥胖的人，经常戴着一顶灰绿色的魔法帽，不过今天脱掉了；他今天还脱掉了他平常和哈利说话的时候惯有的纵容的微笑。一个有着宽阔的，正方形下巴的女巫坐在福吉的左边，她戴着单片眼镜，表情可怕。在福吉的右边是另外一个女巫，不过她坐在长椅的很后面，所以她的脸整个藏在阴影里。

　　“很好，”福吉说道，“被告已经到了—尽管是最后到的—让我们开始吧。你们准备好了吗？”他问在座的各位。

　　“是的，先生，”一个哈利熟悉的热心的声音说道。罗恩的兄长珀西正坐在前排长椅的最旁边。哈利抬头看着珀西，希望从他的身上看出某种迹象，但是没有回应。珀西的眼睛藏在牛角镜框的眼镜后面，面前放着一张羊皮纸，手上握着一只大号的羽毛笔。

　　“8月12日的纪律听证会，”福吉用一种响亮的声音说道，而珀西则马上做起了记录，“将审理哈利 波特先生违反未成年人魔法限制条例和国际魔法保密条例的违纪行为，哈利 波特先生现为萨里郡小惠金区女贞路4号的居民。”

　　“质询者：法尼治 奥斯瓦尔德 福吉，魔法大臣；爱米拉 苏珊 波尼斯，魔法条例执行处处长；多罗尔斯 简 乌姆布瑞杰，魔法部高级次长。庭审记录员：珀西 艾格那提斯 威斯里—”

　　“辩护律师，阿巴斯 帕斯威尔 乌尔福瑞克 布瑞安 丹伯多，”一个平静的声音在哈利的身后响起，哈利迅速的转头看去，结果扭到了脖子。

　　丹伯多正安详的走过房间，他穿着一件深蓝色的长袍，一脸极为平静的表情。他的长长的银色须发在火炬的光线之下闪闪发光。丹伯多站到了哈利旁边通过眼镜片抬头看着福吉，他的半月形眼镜架在长长的鹰钩鼻子的中段。

　　陪审团的成员们开始交头接耳。所有的眼睛现在都集中在丹伯多身上。有些人面色苦恼，而其他人则微微的有些恐惧；而后排的两个年纪稍长的巫师则挥舞着双手表示欢迎。

　　当哈利看见丹伯多的时候，一股强有力的感情从胸中升起，那种充满希望的感觉不亚于听见了凤凰之歌。他想看见丹伯多的眼睛，不过丹伯多并没有看着他；他一直持续的盯着显然狼狈不堪的福吉。

　　“啊，”福吉说道，他看起来完全惊慌失措。“丹伯多。是的。你—恩—得到我们—恩—改变听证会时间—恩—和地点的消息吗？”

　　“我本来肯定会错过听证会的，”丹伯多兴高采烈的说道，“然而，归功于一个幸运的错误，我提前三个小时到了魔法部，因此一无所损。”

　　“是的—好吧—我想我们需要另一张椅子—我—威斯里，你能不能—？”

　　“没关系，没关系，”丹伯多高兴的说道；他掏出了自己的魔杖，做了一个小手势，一只柔软的印花棉布的扶手椅子就出现在哈利的旁边。丹伯多坐下了，他长长的手指末端张开，透过手指用一种饶有兴趣的眼神仔细打量着福吉。陪审团的成员们仍然在窃窃私语，他们表情慌张，坐立不安；直到福吉再次开口的时候他们才安静下来。

　　“是的，”福吉慢吞吞的查阅着他的笔记再度说道：“好吧，那么。因此。指控。是的。”

　　福吉从面前大堆的文件中抽出一张羊皮纸，做了一个深呼吸，然后开始宣读，对被告的指控如下：

　　被告明知故犯，在已经收到魔法部因相似指控而发出的一张书面警告之后，本应当充分意识到其行为违法，但仍然在麻瓜的聚居区使用了帕特拿姆魔法，并且是当着一个麻瓜的面施展的，时间是8月2日晚上9点23分。该被告的行为违反了1875年制订的未成年人魔法限制条例第3条之规定，并且同时违反了国际巫师联盟魔法保密条例第13条之规定。

　　“你是住在萨里郡小惠金区女贞路4号的哈利 詹姆斯 波特先生吗？”福吉从羊皮纸的上方盯着哈利问道。

　　“是的，”哈利说道。

　　“三年前你曾经收到过魔法部关于非法施展魔法的正式警告，是吗？”

　　“是的，不过—”

　　“但是你仍然在8月2日的晚上施展了帕特拿姆魔法，对吗？”

　　“是的，”哈利说道，“但是—”

　　“你明知在未满17岁的情况下是不允许在学校以外的地方使用魔法的，对吗？”

　　“是的，但是—”

　　“你知道自己身处一个满是麻瓜的区域，对吗？”

　　“是的，但是—”

　　“你充分意识到当时和一个麻瓜非常接近，对吗？”

　　“是的，”哈利恼火的说道，“但是我施展魔法是因为我们当时—”

　　那个戴着单片眼镜的女巫用一种急速的语调打断了哈利的话。

　　“你施展了一次完整的帕特拿姆魔法，对吗？”

　　“是的，”哈利说道，“因为—”

　　“一次有形的帕特拿姆魔法，对吗？”

　　“一次—什么？”哈利说道。

　　“你的帕特拿姆魔法有清楚的形象吗？我的意思是说，它不是一阵蒸汽或者一股烟，对吗？”

　　“是的，”哈利说道，他现在感到既没有耐心也稍微有点失望，“它是一头牡鹿，它总是一头牡鹿。”

　　“总是？”波尼斯夫人大声问道。“你在此之前已经施展过帕特拿姆魔法吗？”

　　“是的，”哈利说道，“我能够施展这种魔法已经一年多了。”

　　“那么你那时15岁？”

　　“是的，而且—”

　　“你在学校里学会的？”

　　“卢平教授在我三年纪的时候教会我，因为那个—”

　　“令人印象深刻，”波尼斯夫人说道，她低头盯着哈利，“在那个年纪施展一个真正的帕特拿姆魔法。。。真是令人印象非常深刻。”

　　她周围的某些巫师和女巫再次的窃窃私语；有些人点头，但也有些人皱着眉毛，摇了摇头。

　　“现在不是这个魔法如何令人印象深刻的问题，”福吉用一种暴躁的声音问道，“事实上，越是令人印象深刻就越糟糕，我认为，这个孩子施展的魔法被一个麻瓜清楚的看见了！”

　　那些刚才皱眉的巫师现在喃喃自语的表示同意，但是珀西假装神圣的点头的样子刺激哈利说话了。

　　“我施展魔法是因为摄魂怪！”哈利在任何人能够打断他之前大声说道。

　　他原本希望出现更多的骚动，但是陪审团一片安静，好象比前一次还要浓厚。

　　“摄魂怪？”波尼斯夫人过了一下问道，她的浓密的眉毛抬了起来，直到她的单片眼镜几乎要掉下来。“你是什么意思，孩子？”

　　“我的意思是有两只摄魂怪在半路出现，它们袭击了我和我的堂兄！”

　　“啊，”福吉再次说道，他很不高兴的傻笑着看看周围的陪审团成员，好象要他们也来分享这个笑话。“是的，是的。我想我们曾经听过类似的事情。”

　　“摄魂怪出现在小惠金区？”波尼斯夫人用一种十分诧异的声调问道，“我不明白—”

　　“你不明白吗，爱米拉？”福吉仍然在傻笑着，“让我来解释吧。他已经彻底的想过这件事，并且觉得摄魂怪可以用来编造一个非常真实的封面小故事。麻瓜看不见摄魂怪，他们能吗，孩子？很方便，很方便。。。因此那仅仅是你的一面之辞，没有目击证人。。。”

　　“我没有撒谎！”哈利响亮的声音盖过了审判庭当中爆发的另一阵窃窃私语。“它们有两只，从小巷的两端冲出来，周围变的又暗又冷，我的堂兄感觉到了它们并且跑过去—”

　　“够了！够了！”福吉的脸上带着一种目空一切的表情说道，“我很抱歉打断你的话，但我确定这只是一个预先编排好的故事—”

　　丹伯多清了清喉咙，陪审团再度安静下来。

　　“事实上，我们有一个证人目击了摄魂怪在小巷出现，”他说道，“我的意思是除了达德里 达斯利以外的其他人。” 福吉圆胖的脸松弛下来，好象有人从里面抽走了空气一样。他盯了丹伯多一会儿，然后，好象有人把他拉回来一样，他说道：“我恐怕我们没时间再听更多的谎言了。我要很快的处理—”

　　“我也许是错的，”丹伯多高兴的说道，“但是我确信陪审团章程是正确的，被告有权利提供其案件的目击证人？难道这不是魔法条例执行处的政策吗，波尼斯夫人？”他指了指带着单片眼镜的女巫继续说道。

　　“正确，”波尼斯夫人说道，“非常正确。”

　　“哦，很好，很好，”福吉突然说道，“这个人在哪里？”

　　“我把她带来了，”丹伯多说道，“她就在门外。我能—？”

　　“不—威斯里，你去，”福吉向珀西咆哮道，“叫她马上过来，从审判庭楼厅走到石头踏步这里，然后迅速通过并不准看哈利和丹伯多。”

　　很快的，珀西回来了，后面跟着费格太太。她看上去惊恐不安，而且比以前更加古怪了。哈利希望她没有忘记换掉她那双男用拖鞋。

　　丹伯多站起来并把他的椅子让给费格太太，然后用魔法替自己再变了一把。

　　“全名？”当费格太太极度紧张的坐在椅子的最边缘的时候福吉大声问道。

　　“阿拉贝拉 多林 费格，”费格太太用一种颤抖的声音说道。

　　“你的确切身份？”福吉用厌烦高傲的口气问道。

　　“我是小惠金区哈利 波特先生住处附近的居民。”费格太太回答道。 “除了哈利 波特先生以外，在我们的记录里没有任何其他的男巫或女巫住在小惠金区，”波尼斯太太立刻说道，“那个位置总是太靠近监视器，提供。。。提供过去的事件。” “我是一个史奎伯，”费格太太说道，“因此你们没有登记我，对吗？”

　　“一个史奎伯，恩？”福吉靠近费格太太看了看说道，“我们将会调查。你把你的出身详细资料交给我的助手威斯里。顺带提一句，史奎伯能够看见摄魂怪吗？”他左顾右盼的补充道。

　　“是的，我们能！”费格太太愤怒的说道。

　　福吉向下看了看费格太太，他的眉毛抬了起来，“很好，”他冷淡的说道，“你的故事是什么？”

　　“我在8月2日晚上9点钟左右外出，到威斯特里亚步行街拐角处的商店买猫食，”费格太太立刻急促的说道，好象她已经用心学过要说的话，“但是我听到在木兰后街与威斯特里亚步行街之间的小巷传来一阵骚动。接近街口的时候我看见摄魂怪跑—”

　　“奔跑？”波尼斯夫人尖锐的说道，“摄魂怪不会奔跑，它们是滑行的。”

　　“那就是我要说的意思，”费格太太很快说道，一抹粉红色出现在她干瘪的脸上，“它们沿着小巷滑行，看起来就象两个孩子。”

　　“你说它们看起来象什么？”波尼斯太太的眉毛皱的如此之深以至于她的单片眼镜都从脸上掉下去了。

　　“是的，其中一个非常肥胖而另一个很瘦—”

　　“不，不，”波尼斯太太不耐烦的说道，“摄魂怪。。。描述摄魂怪。”

　　“哦，”费格太太脸上的红晕现在爬到了脖子上。“它们很大。巨大而且穿着斗篷。”

　　哈利感到他的胃在这一刻可怕的沉了下去。无论费格太太说什么，在哈利听来好象她最多就是曾经看过摄魂怪的图片，而且这些图片不是按照真实样子传达的：它们可怕的移动方式，漂浮在地面以上几英寸的地方；或者是它们腐烂的气味；还有它们吸取周围空气所发出的可怕的喀哒声。。。

　　在第二排，一个矮胖的巫师正在侧身和他的邻居耳语。这个巫师留着一部巨大的黑胡子，而他的邻居则是一个头发卷曲的女巫。这个女巫傻笑着点点头。

　　“身材高大，披着斗篷，”当福吉嘲弄的喷着鼻子的时候，波尼斯太太冷淡的重复道，“我明白了。还有其他的吗？”

　　“是的，”费格太太说道，“我感觉的到它们。周围的一切都变的寒冷，提醒你，那是一个非常炎热的夏季的晚上。而且我感到。。。仿佛所有的快乐都从这个世界上消失了。。。而且我回忆起了。。。恐惧的事情。。。”

　　费格太太声音颤抖，死气沉沉。

　　波尼斯太太的眼睛稍稍睁大了。哈利可以看见波尼斯太太眉毛下面单片眼睛曾经压着的地方出现了一抹红晕。

　　“摄魂怪当时在干什么？”波尼斯太太问道。哈利又重新燃起一丝希望。

　　“他们冲向了那两个孩子，”费格太太的声音现在变大了，而且也更有自信了，粉红的颜色也退回她的脸上。“其中一个孩子摔倒了。另一个孩子逐渐后退，尽全力抵挡摄魂怪。那个孩子就是哈利。他两次尝试施展魔法，但是只放出了一股银色的蒸汽。第三次尝试的时候，他终于施放出一个完整的帕特拿姆魔法，这个魔法击退了第一只摄魂怪，然后，在哈利的努力下，这个魔法把第二只摄魂怪从哈利表兄的身边赶走了。而这就是当时发生的事情经过。”费格太太有些不太完整的结束了称述。

　　波尼斯夫人沉默的看着费格太太。福吉则完全没有看她，不过他却在焦躁不安的翻着文件。最后，福吉睁开眼睛极具攻击性的说道：“那就是你全部要说的，是吗？”

　　“那就是所发生的一切，”费格太太重复了一遍。

　　“很好，”福吉说道，“你可以走了。”

　　费格太太用害怕的眼神看了一眼福吉和丹伯多，然后站起身来慢吞吞的走向门口。哈利听见大门在她身后轰然关闭。

　　“这并不是一个十分可信的目击证人，”福吉傲慢的说道。

　　“不，我还不能确定，”波尼斯太太很快的说道，“她显然非常精确的描述了摄魂怪攻击时所产生得影响。我想象不出如果摄魂怪没有出现在小维茵的话，她为什么要这样说。”

　　“但是摄魂怪在麻瓜的居住区域徘徊并且遇见了一个路过的巫师？”福吉轻蔑的嗤之以鼻，“这种可能性非常，非常的小。就算是商品推销员都不敢打赌—”

　　“哦，我认为我们之中没有任何人会相信摄魂怪是碰巧出现在那里的。”丹伯多轻轻的说道。

　　坐在福吉左边的女巫，也就是脸藏在阴影中的那个，身体不安的移动了一下，但是其他人仍然安静的坐在原地一动不动。

　　“这个假设意味着什么？”福吉冷冰冰的问道。

　　“这意味着我认为摄魂怪是受命去那里？”丹伯多说道。

　　“我认为我们有相关记录可查，看看是否有两只摄魂怪受命去小惠金区巡游！”福吉咆哮道。

　　“这些日子以来，不排除摄魂怪受命于魔法部以外的其他人，”丹伯多平静的说，“我已经向你提供了我在这件事情上的看法，法尼治。”

　　“是的，你提供了，”福吉咄咄逼人的说道，“但是我没有理由相信你的观点有任何可信之处。摄魂怪现在正待在阿滋卡班魔法监狱并忠实的执行着我们下达的一切命令。”

　　“那么，”丹伯多平静而清晰的说道，“我们就必须扪心自问为什么魔法部里有人会在8月2日命令摄魂怪前往小巷。”

　　听完这些话之后审判庭里一片寂静，福吉右边的女巫身体前倾，因此哈利第一次看清楚她的样子。

　　他认为这个女巫长的象一只苍白，巨大的癞蛤蟆。她几乎是蹲在椅子上，这个女巫长着一张宽阔松弛的脸，有着象维能姨丈一样又粗又短的脖子，以及一张宽而呆滞的嘴巴。她的眼睛又大又圆并且向外鼓凸。甚至是她卷曲的短头发上面扣着的黑色天鹅绒蝴蝶结都给哈利一种感觉，仿佛那就是她要伸出粘糊糊的长舌头捕食的一只大苍蝇。

　　“这位就是多罗尔斯 简 乌姆布瑞治，魔法部高级次长，”福吉说道。

　　这个女巫用一种振颤的，故作少女状的，高亢的声调说话，这让哈利毛骨悚然；他觉得象癞蛤蟆的叫声。

　　“我肯定没有理解你的话，丹伯多教授，”

　　她吃吃的傻笑着，不过又大又圆的眼睛还是一如既往的冷漠，“我太傻了。但是听起来你有点觉得是魔法部下命令袭击这个孩子的！”

　　她发出了一阵清脆的笑声，这使得哈利的寒毛孔都竖起来了。陪审团的其他几名成员都在嘲笑她。不过更确切的说是们中没有一个真的笑出来。

　　“如果摄魂怪现在真的只能从魔法部接受命令，而一周前两只摄魂怪也真的袭击了哈利和他的表兄，那么接下来的逻辑就是魔法部有人下令执行这次袭击，”丹伯多彬彬有礼的说道，“当然，也有可能这些额外的摄魂怪是在魔法部得控制之外—”

　　“不存在魔法部控制之外的摄魂怪！”福吉的脸涨成了猪肝色吼道。

　　丹伯多轻轻的点点头。

　　“那么毫无疑问魔法部必须展开全面调查，为什么有两只摄魂怪会远离阿滋卡班，还有它们为什么在没有得到命令得情况下展开袭击。”

　　“还轮不到你来决定魔法部该做什么，不该做什么，丹伯多！”福吉脸上现在出现了维能姨丈引以为自豪的紫红色，并且大声咆哮。

　　“当然不是，”丹伯多温和的说，“我仅仅是在表达我的决心，那就是这一事件不能就这样不了了之。”

　　丹伯多盯着波尼斯夫人，而后者也调整了一下单片眼镜微微皱着眉头回盯着丹伯多。

　　“我要提醒在座诸位，如果这些摄魂怪的行为真的不是出自这个孩子的主观臆想，那也不是这次听证会讨论的题目！”福吉说道，“我们在这里的目的是为了检查哈利 波特违反未成年人魔法限制条例的行为。” “我们当然是，”丹伯多说道，“但是摄魂怪在小巷出现是非常关键的问题。根家魔法宪法条例第七条之规定，在特殊情况下允许在麻瓜面前施展魔法，那些特殊情况里面就包括魔法师本人的生命受到威胁，或者任何其他魔法师或麻瓜的生命受到威胁的情况—”

　　“我们知道宪法第七条是怎么规定的，非常感谢！”福吉狂怒道。

　　“诸位当然清楚，”丹伯多亲切的说道。“那么我们就必须同意哈利在这种情况下施展帕特拿姆魔法完全符合宪法条例中关于特殊情况的规定。”

　　“对于当时是否存在摄魂怪我表示怀疑！”

　　“诸位刚才已经从一个目击者那里听见了，”丹伯多打断他说道。

　　“如果你仍然怀疑她的证词的真实性，那么把她叫回来。再问她一次，我肯定费格太太不会反对的。”

　　“我—那个—不用了—，”福吉气急败坏的说道。在他的面前摆放着那份没用的文件。“只是—我希望今天就到这里，丹伯多！”

　　“但是很自然，如果你担心这一选择会导致审判的严重失误的话，随便你询问目击者多少次。”丹伯多说道。

　　“严重失误，我的天哪！”福吉用最高的声调说道，“你甚至会对一个孩子编造的公鸡-公牛的故事信以为真并苦恼不已吗，丹伯多，难道你真的要对他在校外违法施展魔法的行为包庇纵容吗？我猜想你已经忘记他三年前施展盘旋魔法的事情了—”

　　“那不是我干的，那是一只房屋小精灵干的！”哈利说道。

　　“你看？”福吉咆哮着，他对着哈利的方向比划着一派胡言的手势。“一只房屋小精灵！在一所麻瓜的房子里！我问你·”

　　“这只惹出问题的房屋小精灵现在是霍格瓦彻魔法学校的雇员，”丹伯多说道，“如果你希望的话我可以立即把它召唤过来作证。”

　　“我-不-我没时间听那些房屋小精灵废话！不管怎么说，这不是第一次了—对着上帝发誓，他居然把自己的姨妈打得飞出去！”福吉重重的拍击着审判庭的长椅并且打翻了一瓶墨水。

　　“我承认，那一次你非常和善的不予追究，并且说即使最好的巫师也不能永远控制住他们的情绪。”当福吉手忙脚乱的收拾文件的时候，丹伯多平静的说道。

　　“而且那时我也没有提过对他如何惩罚。”

　　“但是，魔法部并没有权力惩罚霍格瓦彻魔法学校的学生在校内的行为不端。哈利那次的行为和本次听证会无关，”丹伯多甚至比刚才更加彬彬有礼，不过在他的话背后却有着一种冷冰冰的暗示。

　　“哦呵！”福吉说道，“也就是说他在学校不管干什么都不关我们的事，恩？你是这么想的吗？”

　　“正如8月2日的晚上我提醒你的那样，魔法部无权开除霍格瓦彻的学生，法尼治，”丹伯多说道，“无论魔法部是否有权没收他的魔杖直至调查完全结束为止；我也要象8月2日晚上那样再一次提醒你，你的那些绝妙的延误表明你自己忽略了一些重要的法律条文，当然我相信你不是故意的。”

　　“法律是可以改变的，”福吉野蛮的说道。

　　“当然可以改变，”丹伯多点点头说道，“而且你肯定会做出许多修改的，法尼治。为什么在我离开陪审团的短短几周之内，处理一个如此简单的未成年人施展魔法的问题却要使用一个如此全副武装的刑事犯罪审判程序！”

　　陪审团的一些巫师在他们的座位里不安的扭动。福吉本已经涨成深褐色的脸现在显得更黑了一点。然而，坐在福吉右边的那个长得象癞蛤蟆一样的女巫却仅仅是瞪了丹伯多一眼，她的脸上面无表情。

　　“正如我意识到的那样，”丹伯多继续说道，“在这个地方已经没有法律了，这个法庭的全部作用就是惩罚哈利曾经施展过的每一点魔法。他还要为一点特别的冒犯承担责任，因为他为自己辩护。哈利和我现在所能做的所有事情就是等待你们的裁决。”

　　丹伯多再次手指交叉，一言不发。福吉盯着丹伯多，很显然被激怒了。哈利看了看坐在旁边的丹伯多，感到很放心；他不仅完全相信丹伯多刚才对陪审团说的话是完全正确的，而且，现在也该是做出决定的时候了。但是，丹伯多似乎再一次想忽略哈利要观察他眼神的企图。他持续的抬头看着上面的一排长椅，陪审团的全体成员正在小声的进行紧急磋商。

　　哈利向下看看自己的脚。他的心脏看起来已经肿胀到了一个异乎寻常的尺寸，它在肋骨下面大声的砰砰直跳。他本以为听证会会比现在更长一点。他完全没有信心自己已经给陪审团留下了一个好印象。他说的并不多。他应当对摄魂怪的问题解释的更加充分，比如关于他怎样摔倒，以及他和达德里怎样险些遭受摄魂怪的死亡之吻。。。

　　哈利有两次看着福吉想开口说话，但是他肿胀的心脏限制的空气的流动，每次他都仅仅只能勉强的做一个深呼吸，然后又低头看着自己的鞋子。

　　接着耳语声停止了。哈利想要抬头看看陪审团，但是他发现低头检查鞋带要比抬头容易的多。

　　“同意撤消被告一切指控的陪审员请举手？”波尼斯夫人很快的说道。

　　哈利的头猛的抬起来。空中举着很多的手。。。超过半数！哈利的呼吸急促起来，他想要尽力去数，但是在他数完之前，波尼斯太太已经说道：“下面认为被告有罪的陪审员请举手？”

　　福吉举手了；跟着他的有大约12个陪审团成员，包括他右边那个象癞蛤蟆的女巫，以及那个长着一部不相称大胡子的矮胖巫师，还有那个坐在第二排的卷毛女巫。

　　福吉看看周围，仿佛有什么东西堵在喉咙里，接着他的手放下了。他做了两次深呼吸，并用一种尽力压制愤怒而扭曲的声音说道：“很好，很好。。。撤消一切指控。”

　　“棒极了，”丹伯多高兴的说道。他抽出了魔杖让那两张印花棉布的扶手椅消失了。“好吧，我要走了。各位，再见吧。”

　　接着，他没有再看哈利一眼就从地牢里消失了。