the gentle moon / george weasley

even the ones in this courtroom?

The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of her, 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 August an ominous silence fell.

A cold male voice rang across the courtroom. "You're late."

"Sorry," said August nervously. "I-I didn't know the time had changed."

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

There was a lone chair in the middle of the room, facing maybe 50 people all in matching plum-colored robes with an elaborately worked silver W on the left-hand side of the chest. They were all looking down at her over their noses.

"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 August knew very well. Percy was sitting at the very end of the front bench. August 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 eighteenth of August," said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, "into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Werewolf Regulations under Werewolf Registry by August Moon O'Keefe, resident at number 18, Turnip Drive, Devon, England."

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of 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 defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," said a quiet voice from behind August, who turned her head so fast she cracked her 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 August and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose.

"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 an armchair appeared out of nowhere next to August.

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

She looks up at all of the Ministry, and she's biting what's left of the nail on her thumb. She watches the Minster extricate a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read,

"The charges against the accused are as follows: That she did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of her actions, fail to register herself with the Werewolf Registry under the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, on October the thirteenth at thirty-four minutes past eleven, 1981."

"You are August Moon O'Keefe, of number,18, Turnip Drive, Devon, England?" Fudge said, glaring at August over the top of his parchment.

"Yes," August said.