The Boy Who Lived

The Muggle Courts

'HEARSAY!' interrupted Vernon's solicitor. 'The witness cannot possibly remember.'

'The jury shall discount the last comment,' said the judge sternly, looking out at them over his glasses from beneath the wiry-curls of his dirty-white wig.

'...I still returned once a year, on the eve of my birthday, it was important to those around me; you see, apart from Minnie, my aunt and cousin are my only living blood relatives. Vernon Dursley had left Aunt Petunia so I didn't remember him and I never met him until I was eleven. When I went for my annual stay on the eve of my twelfth birthday, Mr Dursley had returned. He threatened me from the moment I met him. He threw me out of the sitting room, I wasn't allowed to sit in there with my aunt or cousin. He claimed he was going to send me to Borstal for Delinquent Boys, burn my belongings, and beat any ideas otherwise out of me. He lied to my friends who came to pick me up, told them I'd gone back to Scotland. I didn't know him and I didn't understand his hatred towards me. It was very confusing. I believe, now, it was a cross between blaming me for his failed marriage and because my parents had set aside a fund for me, registering me with a private boarding school. I was... I am considerably wealthy. I believe envy played a part in his victimisation...'

'Supposition, my Lord,' interrupted Vernon's lawyer.

Young Harry had a presence in that courtroom, he seemed at ease speaking before the courtroom, as if he'd done this a number of times before. He made even Vernon's solicitor seem insignificant with the way he engaged with the jury and those present. Perhaps it was the intensity of his green eyes, of Lily's eyes. He ignored the man's complaint and nor did the judge uphold it.

'There was an incident the night of my twelfth birthday, when the Dursleys had guests come for a dinner party. The accident involved my aunt's showcase pudding being dropped on the kitchen floor. I was blamed because I was out of my room. I wasn't involved in the actual dinner party itself. That wasn't allowed, that would have involved admitting I existed and it would have meant feeding me...'

'Why should I waste my time and hard-earned money on a useless, lazy, lying layabout? Just like his father,' muttered Vernon loudly.

'Irrelevance,' said Petunia's solicitor. 'The witness's father has no bearing on this case.'

'The jury shall discount that last comment by Mr Dursley. Please don't interrupt again, Mr Dursley. You will have your time in the stand.'

'May I ask what profession you hold, Mr Potter,' Petunia's solicitor said quizzically.

'That is not relevant to the witness's statement,' Vernon's solicitor interjected.

'Just establishing the witness's character, you honour. The defendant seems keen on portraying a particular picture of Mr Potter which does not fit with my understanding of the young man. It suggests Mr Dursley is trying to undermine Mr Potter's credibility.'

'I see. Carry on,' said the judge.

'Special forces,' answered Harry, barely batting an eyelid. 'Do you need to see proof of employment? Obviously, there will need to be some degree of secrecy but I'm sure my employer would oblige.'

'No, that won't be necessary,' said the judge.

'I understand you are highly decorated, at only eighteen,' said Petunia's solicitor.

'Yes, sir. Knight Grand Cross, for acts of outstanding bravery or distinction, a Commendation for valuable service to the crown, an O.M., and the Ottaline Cross.'

The judge's eyes widened and Vernon went purple in the face. Petunia felt rather humbled. Though she wondered what the Ottaline Cross was, she'd never heard of it but then, there were many military decorations and medals and it was another world for her. She wondered, briefly, if there was a wizarding equivalent of the Victoria Cross.