Wednesday, March 1, 1922
The Wizengamot Courtroom,
9 AM
The trials were finally coming to an end. Dorian felt as if so many in the wizarding world hadn't been able to think or talk about anything else. Verdict after verdict sent tongues wagging. Guilty. Innocent. There was spectacle, there was intrigue, and there were still many questions left to be answered.
March 1 heralded the most important trial of them all. It was the day the very minister for magic would answer for charges that had sent Dorian's brows rising.
There was a part of the man that didn't want to believe they were true. He and Merrow weren't friends. They may have shared a handful of words or so since the time the man took office, but he'd never given the impression that he was anything like what the council was asserting. With a less level head, the chief of staff may have audibly called the charges superfluous and unfounded, but it wasn't his job to decide, not by himself. This was a matter for the council.
The members of the wizengamot would need to come to a conclusion together, regardless of his personal opinions on the matter.
There was a heaviness that accompanied Dorian as he led everyone into the courtroom. It was a potent mixture of disappointment and disbelief that he knew he would have to swallow in order to see the day's proceedings to a proper and respectable end. Minister Merrow, treason. It just didn't make sense.
"Come in, take your seats quickly. We'll be beginning shortly," he said.
Dorian sat himself at the centre of the large platform. "While I doubt I need introduction," having overseen the first trial, "I'll introduce myself again for the record. My name is Dorian Montreaux and I'll be the facilitator for this morning's proceedings. A few reminders before we begin, if you will. There will be no speaking out of turn. We will conduct ourselves appropriately for the setting, or we will be excused." There was no need to cast his gaze in any direction. The words would find their intended targets. "Once the doors have been closed, no one is allowed in or out until the conclusion of the matter, witnesses notwithstanding. Wand usage is not permitted within the courtroom unless under the directive of the prosecutor, defence or facilitator as a means of presenting evidence. The verdict of the facilitator – in this case, myself – is immediate, binding and final."
Dorian inhaled a subtle breath, steeling himself as he prepared to get to the bottom of the matter. His personal feelings had been left at the door. He had a job to do.
"Minister Merrow, you stand accused of First-Degree Manslaughter under Magical Statute 345.B, Child Endangerment under Magical Statute 102.A, Criminal Conspiracy under Magical Statute 410.D and, finally, Treason Against the Wizarding State under Magical Statute 001.A."
To say that the man had a lot to answer for...would be a gross understatement.
Welcome to the final of the Wizengamot trials. We're no longer new to this but it bears saying anyway: before posting, please familiarise yourself with the courtroom rules found here. We'll be moving on in a day.
His day in court had finally arrived.
Having kept a closer eye on the preceding three trials than most would have noticed, Wylder Merrow knew this whole ordeal was a crapshoot. Haswell had been found guilty and sentenced to two years in Azkaban for her conviction on child endangerment. Blackwood and Barlowe had been acquitted.
He supposed it made sense if one were to look at things pragmatically. Ruby Haswell was directly responsible for her staff and the well-being of her students, whereas Blackwood was only privy to her decisions and Barlowe had only done what anyone in his right mind would have.
Wylder knew had he not been careless enough to have his own spell turned back on him, he would have taken the kill shot himself in the moment when it became apparent there was no 'taking him alive'. Still, he didn't regret the actions of that night, or even the minor role he had played in all of it.
The children were safe. The head administration at Hogwarts had been dealt with, and there were two less cult members running free in the world.
It was...the other charges that left him unsettled.
Conspiracy and treason.
Two things, two charges that he'd never thought would be uttered alongside his name. And yet there they were, in black and white on the warrant he'd been served with.
It was preposterous. Wylder had never done anything other than serve his country and kinsman to the best of his ability, even if he faltered at times. The man knew that perhaps he wasn't the greatest orator, or the most charismatic. Perhaps he didn't stir faith in his people that someone who knew how to maneuver through the political machine might. But he'd never made any decisions that he didn't feel served everyone in the Wizarding state's best interests. He'd never lobbied for the Wizengamot to pass bills or laws that served his interests or lined his pockets.
It was a job he never wanted. But he had stepped up and done his best anyway.
He should have returned to his quiet life after the war and been content to care for his aging parents.
As Dorian Montreaux called the Wizengamot to order, Wylder stood, alone in the middle of the floor, his eyes glancing over each of the faces that would decide his fate. There was no high-powered barrister at his side to advocate for him.
Wylder had always been accountable for himself and his actions, and he didn't need anyone else speaking for him. If he were to be acquitted it would be because his explanations were sufficient. If he was convicted, it was because they weren't.
He wouldn't have that outcome hanging over some young barrister's head.
Perhaps some would see it as foolish. Wylder was just the type of man who preferred to keep things simple. He hadn't looked over the 'evidence' the MLE was presenting to the Wizengamot about his supposed crimes, not wanting to get himself riled up beforehand.
Instead, he'd take each accusation as it came.
"Minister Merrow, you stand accused of First-Degree Manslaughter under Magical Statute 345.B, Child Endangerment under Magical Statute 102.A, Criminal Conspiracy under Magical Statute 410.D and, finally, Treason Against the Wizarding State under Magical Statute 001.A."
Wylder only gave a slight nod of his head, stoic and militaristic as he clasped his hands behind his back.
Haswell’s trial had gone as expected, and so had the other two. This one, though, with the minister facing charges of conspiracy and treason, was one that Galen would not sleep through. (He hadn’t really slept through them, but didn’t consistently have a list of questions ready.) Today, he did.
He took his seat amongst the rest of the Wizengamot members, parchment and quill at the ready. He’d be participating through the lens of his studies; anthropology. He was thoroughly interested in the questions others had for the man as well.
Perhaps, Galen thought, Merrow wouldn’t have looked so bad had he not been dangling upside down in the tower that night. Sure, it could have happened to anyone, but only fools went into those kinds of situations unprepared.
Still – his eyes were locked on the figure of Wylder. That had been his only opinion of him, though he appreciated the man appointing him to Headmaster of Hogwarts.
But perhaps his opinion didn’t matter. It would make sense, he thought, for Merrow to follow Haswell to Azkaban. Both of them were in leadership roles. Everyone else was just doing what they knew they should. Ruby and Wylder had acted… well, he hadn’t been there but they hadn’t done the things he thought should have been done.
At least, though, Haswell hadn’t been hanging upside down by the ankle.
Galen, ensuring he had the best seat in the house for entertainment, took the spot next to where he knew the wand maker had sat in the last trial. He didn’t know the woman well, but found her highly amusing.
Bernie was not happy.
And it showed.
Walking into the trial, she grumbled under her breath in unintelligible sounds as she found her seat. She sat in the same spot, every time, giving herself a good view of the chamber. Today, Galen, the new Headmaster of Hogwarts, sat next to her, which was just fine with her. He smelled WON-DER-FUL! Like Man… and trees.
The handsome man next to her wasn’t enough to squelch the anger and annoyance brewing inside.
After the last two trials Bernie had been called in for a “meeting.” To talk about her “behavior.” Even in her head the words were dripping with sarcasm and spite. Apparently her questions were out of line, unprofessional and would no longer be tolerated.
She protested, but it fell on deaf ears. If she wanted to keep her family's longstanding spot on the Wizengamot, she needed to act accordingly. And by accordingly, they meant boring and pompous.
Patriarchal Bastards….
Moving around to get comfortable, Bernie took out her parchment notepad and quill, ready to take notes. She still wasn’t sure if she would attempt to ask a question, time would tell.
Watching the Minister take his seat, Bernie squinted to look at the man. Her head tipped to the left, then the right, her eyes never leaving the man in charge of the entire wizarding community. He was powerful. There was no doubt, but was he guilty?
Waiting for the trial to truly get under way, Bernie sketched on her notepad, The picture took shape without her really knowing what she was drawing. At first it just looked like a person, then as the details took shape it was more clearly a man. At the point where she was done with the picture, she twisted the paper upside down, revealing the true nature of the drawing. It was a rough picture of the Minister being hiked up to the ceiling by his ankle. But this time, unlike what actually happened in the tower last year, there was a chain around his ankle.
She hummed a sound, looking at the picture, then looked at the minister. Squinting one more time she nodded. Yep… she could see it.
This was it, the final trial. And the one Bertram was most invested in. Ruby had gone away for her part in the dark tower incident. That horrible night that left his granddaughter forever altered. Thayer was dead, Ruby was in Azkaban, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted someone to pay for her pain.
And the only one left was Merrow. He was up on very serious charges, treason and conspiracy two that Bertram wasn’t expecting. He knew the minister, not well, but they had worked closely together over the last couple of years.
While the charges shocked him, he also wasn’t shocked. Power was dangerous in the wrong hands. The evidence would tell a lot. Along with the witnesses. Bram was looking forward to this trial and all the things that were about to be revealed. They wouldn’t have charged him with crimes that they didn’t have evidence to back up.
Walking in, Bram found a seat towards the front, with a good view of the Minister and any witnesses that were called to testify. He had a notepad, in case he needed it, but typically didn’t. But in this trial, he wanted to be prepared.
As the chamber was called to attention, it caught Bram’s eye that the minister didn’t have anyone at his side. He was representing himself. Now THAT made this all the more interesting. Would it be smart? Only time would tell.
Merrow had always been a man of few words. It didn't surprise Dorian that he did little more than nod with his hands clasped while he waited for the proceedings to move forward.
They were doing this then.
The man spared only the briefest glances down the platform to ensure that all the right people had received his warning. The mad woman was doodling. He supposed it was better than having her open her mouth. If they could avoid another farce when it came to the questioning, he would be grateful. Regardless of the charges being mounted, the minister deserved a respectable trial, one that was fitting of his station.
The rest, well, they would figure it out as they went along. One way or another, the truth would come out. If it so happened that the man was guilty of such things, it would become their duty to judge him as guilty. Should the evidence prove insufficient, the man would be amenable to letting him walk a free man.
Honoured members of the Wizengamot, we have gathered for the last time to once again review the events of the incident that took place in the Dark Tower at Hogwarts on the night of March 12, 1921. The story had been rehashed in several ways by several witnesses, but I ask that you listen with fresh ears and judge the minister on the merit of his own actions, not things you may have heard from other trials."
There was no need to get their wires crossed.
"The prosecution alleges that while responding to the Dark Tower hostage crisis on March 12, 1921, Merrow knowingly engaged in conduct that materially contributed to the fatal confrontation within the tower and the resulting death of Arthur Thayer."
And Dorian was very interested to know how.
"Though Merrow did not cast the fatal curse that killed Thayer, his actions are alleged to have materially escalated the confrontation and prolonged the crisis, contributing directly to the chain of events that culminated in Thayer’s death when lethal force was ultimately deployed to end the attack." In a case they'd already tried and concluded. Barlowe had done what he needed to do, and three children were alive today for that fact. It didn't bear mentioning further.
"Further, it is alleged that Merrow failed in his duty of care as Minister of Magic by rendering himself effectively incapable of intervening in defence of the bound minors present within the tower, thereby leaving them exposed to extreme, sustained, and foreseeable magical danger."
As he moved down the list, he found the one that had given him the most pause.
"Finally, it is alleged that Merrow maintained covert contact with Arthur Thayer in the months preceding the attack, receiving financial transfers from Thayer’s Gringotts accounts and exchanging correspondence concerning the Hogwarts Carnival and related activities. The prosecution asserts that these communications and financial transactions demonstrate deliberate coordination with an individual affiliated with an extremist faction responsible for acts of violence against the wizarding community, constituting criminal conspiracy and acts of treason against the wizarding state."
Dorian lowered the paper, returning his gaze to the minister.
"Mr. Merrow, how do you answer to these charges?"
It just went on and on. Wylder did his best to remain stoic as the list of charges grew longer and longer. None of which were new and surprising. When his arrest warrant was issued, he'd been read them all at that time, but hearing them laid out in detail, before the Wizengamot, stirred something he didn't often allow himself to feel.
Anger.
Wylder was a proud man in many ways. His reputation was important to him. His military service his proudest achievement. Having all of that tarnished under the accusations that he'd ever betray his country and people tested that control more than he would have liked.
"The prosecution asserts that these communications and financial transactions demonstrate deliberate coordination with an individual affiliated with an extremist faction responsible for acts of violence against the wizarding community, constituting criminal conspiracy and acts of treason against the wizarding state."
Financial transactions? Wylder's brow came together only momentarily before he pulled for stoic resolve again. There were no financial transactions between him or anyone else. Wylder didn't use his political seat for personal gain. He was happy to leave that to the sort who saw fit to manipulate a public servant position. He wanted no part of it.
Eager as he was to see these alleged 'financial transactions', Wylder only spoke two words.
"Not guilty."
The man took a deep breath. Speaking had never been his strength, and he knew he would struggle. Action had always served him better, but that wouldn't suffice here.
"Thank you for giving me the opportunity to speak for myself," he said evenly, pausing for a long moment while he reached for the words he knew he needed. For many of them it would be the most they'd ever heard him speak, and perhaps there was some amusement in that.
Wylder wouldn't return it in any case.
"I am admittedly not a man who has ever relied on words to define his service," he continued, his gaze steady as it moved across the chamber. "My record has, until now, spoken sufficiently on its own." Another long pause as he felt his heart begin to thunder behind his chest. Not of fear, but deliberately, urging the man to show himself as the battle-worn soldier he was.
"I have served this country in war. I have served it as an auror. I have served it in office. Every decision I have made in both capacities has been guided by one principle. Protection of the wizarding public." His hands remained clasped, though the tension in them was obvious to anyone looking closely enough.
"What is being alleged here is not failure. It's betrayal." It was a word that sat heavier on his chest than all the others. "That I would conspire with a man like Arthur Thayer. That I would accept payment from him. That I would assist in any act that would endanger this institution or the children within it."
His jaw tightened visibly at the silent storm that was brewing within him. "I will state this plainly, so there is no confusion." His voice didn't rise, rather it sharpened with each deliberate word that fell from his lips. "I did not meet with Arthur Thayer to plan an attack, nor did I receive any payment from him. I did not exchange correspondence in furtherance of any such act."
He'd never even met the man prior to walking through that door in the tower.
"And on the night of March twelfth, I didn't stand idle by choice." His chest lowered heavily with the disappointment he felt with himself, but he continued regardless. "The situation within that tower was volatile beyond what any report can adequately capture. Decisions were made in seconds. Spells were cast under pressure that few in this chamber have ever had to endure. The children were not simply present. They were restrained, positioned and used as leverage. Though I requested Thayer be taken alive, it became an impossible act. Any action taken in that room carried the risk of immediate escalation. I and my co-defendants acted within those constraints."
A flicker of something passed behind his eyes before it disappeared again. Perhaps a quick glimpse of emotion, or perhaps it was just the exhaustion of a man who had seen more in his short thirty-seven years than most men had seen in their lifetime. "As for Arthur Thayer, he entered that tower with intent. He created the conditions that led to his own death. That outcome, however regrettable, does not constitute criminal liability on my part."
All of this had been a mistake. Who did he think he was? A boy - trained to be an auror and then drafted into the Great War - plucked from obscurity to lead the free wizarding world. It was preposterous. He knew it then, but he'd been too damn noble, thinking it was some sort of calling to serve when asked. He should have heeded his better judgement.
"I regret the outcome of that night. Any loss of life under my watch is not something I take lightly." It was the closest he would come to emotion. It was enough. "But regret is not guilt. And accusation is not proof."
Now he looked directly at them, at all of them, beseeching them to use whatever good reason they had in their heads to look at this entire thing with common sense.
"I did not betray this country. I did not conspire with its enemies. And I did not abandon those children. I will not accept responsibility for the actions of a man who chose violence and extremism, nor for the necessity of stopping him."
Silence lingered for a moment.
"I understand the gravity of these charges, as well as the standard to which I'm being held. I have met that standard in war. I have met it in service. And while I regrettably agree I did not meet it on the night of March twelfth, I stand fast in the truth that I didn't commit a single crime that night, or any date prior."
With that his shoulders relaxed. "Thank you."
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