Prologue: Amnesty

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The corridor outside the doors to the Wizengamot court was empty but for four people. Three stood talking, just outside the door, one was sitting on a bench some way ahead of them.
The three were Ministry members. Although they talked loudly and laughed once again, because the dark days were over, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named reduced to nothing and safety had returned at last to the wizarding world, their voices were hushed now as they sent glances over to the fourth figure, a young man sitting placidly on the bench.

"So it is true." A fat witch in a purple hat said, glancing at him, not bothering to do so discreetly. "He was a part of it all."
"Are you surprised?" an elderly, short wizard said in reply, although he dropped his voice to a hush.
"I'm not." A young wizard scoffed. 'You didn't go to Hogwarts with him. He was a strange kid, I'm telling you..."

At this, the other two glanced at the man on the bench, but he seemed to not have heard them, his eyes fixed onto the floor.

"Honestly, the things he would do in his spare time... Well, they were questionable to say the least, although I would say vile. And when he looked at you" -the man paused to shudder- "It was as though he was looking for a way to tear your soul out with hooks. Unblinkingly. Was quite an ugly kid too, to be honest."
The fat witch in the purple hat glanced at the man over her bulbous nose, then sniffed.
"I suppose not much has changed."

At this, the man's pale fingers tightened a little on the material of his black robes, but not enough for anybody to notice.

"But I don't reckon he'll pull through. No," said the short, elderly wizard, "he'll end up in Azkaban, just like the rest of them. I'm only a little surprised he's showing no sign of resistance. Not like the rest, who they had to either drag in stupefied or who had babbled the whole way here. No - he came along with me nicely. Like this was just another day."

The man on the bench scoffed at this, but so quietly, they didn't notice. Because for him, it was. It was just another day. Another day filled with blunder and regret.

The doors to the Wizengamot court creaked open and a frowning fellow with a black cap of hair poked his head out.
"Alright, Abernathy. Bring him in."
"Alrighty-ho." the elderly wizard said, then approached the man on the bench, "Let's go, son, eh?"

The pale man stood, the chains around his wrists jangling as he did, and entered the court mutely. Abernathy followed him in.
The other two remained outside, chatting and exchanging stories about the one who had left. Some involved boys named Sirius Black and James Potter, although those names were spoken in whispers. Some involved strange spells nobody had heard before, strange injuries inflicted on the ones who had been less in favour with the man who had just left.
"I suppose we should have seen it coming, as soon as You-Know-Who was gaining followers. Of course he was one of the ones who went first." the young wizard went on, raising his eyebrows, "It's as though he was made for that role."

Just then, there was a bang behind the court doors, a yell, then a scuffle. The two stopped talking to listen.
"Traitor!" A shrill voice had yelled. "A disgrace to the Dark Lord's fame-!"
The yell was cut off by a few sparks and bangs. Silence returned, broken only by the deep voice of the Wizengamot.

Nothing more was heard, at least not by the talking pair, not until there was a final bang of the court being dismissed.

Another death-eater, probably the one who had let out the scream, was taken out suspended in mid-air. Then, the rest of the Wizengamot filed out, which the talking pair greeted, until Abernathy came out with the man in chains and the one with a black cap of hair shut the door behind them and left.

"What happened in there, Abernathy?" the fat witch said, her eyebrows shooting up at the sight of the pale man in chains.

"There was a fuss," the elderly wizard said, "one of the prisoners stole the wand of a guard and fired. It was dealt with, thankfully, before anybody retained any real damage."

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