Fear coursed through him as all the memories surged to the surface, unhindered by his shields and the depths he had buried them. He wasn't ready, he couldn't face them now. He couldn't relive it, they couldn't ask him to do it. He didn't want them to know. They would finally see how much of a freak he was, they would see everything he had hidden, every beating, every chore, every taunt. And he would have to face them, he would have to look at the Dursleys and speak about what had happened there, he would have to break the one rule that had been drummed into him for as long as he could remember. "Nothing is wrong. Nobody can know. You must not tell."
His breathing had quickened and his eyes darted around the courtroom as if seeking an escape, mirroring the fear he felt. Tremors ran through his body and he couldn't stop them. All he could see was his uncle, his face mottled with rage, all he could hear was his taunts. "You're worthless. Freak. Your parents would be ashamed, they were good for nothing drunks. And you're just like them Freak. They got themselves killed. They abandoned you."
Discover moreScience Fiction & FantasyMyth & FolkloreFamily LawCourts & JudiciaryFan FictionSomeone was shaking him. "Harry...Harry...It's alright, you're safe here...Harry," A voice was calling him, breaking through his memories. He recognised the voice, he knew it. The sound promised safety, comfort, protection. Trying to force the memories down he latched onto the voice, clung to it like a lifeline as he scoured his memory searching for the owner of the voice. It came to him in a flash. Sirius. His godfather, his protector and the man he regarded as a father.
With a gasp he pulled himself out of the flashback and his gaze met concerned grey eyes. He managed to summon a weak smile as he slumped back into his godfather's hold. The moment he had pulled himself out of the flashbacks Sirius had stopped shaking him and was now regarding him steadily, compassion and concern etched in every feature. "I'm alright Sirius, it was just flashbacks," he murmured although privately he felt anything but alright. All the images were swirling around in his mind, accompanied by all the pain, despair and fear that had originally accompanied them, not to mention the fear of the people who were now only a few meters away.
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His godfather just looked at him, obviously disbelieving. It was getting harder and harder to hide things from Sirius and Harry was beginning to realise he didn't want to. However, Sirius didn't press him. "Come on pup, lets get this over with."
Harry allowed Sirius to lead him down the steps to the witness stand. Somebody had placed a low bench near the front of the stand and Harry was grateful for that. He was well aware that it was likely he would be up here for quite a long time and he didn't want to have to stand for the entire time, not to mention it would allow Sirius to sit beside him, staying with him the entire time.
Discover moreFan fiction booksMobile app developmentFictionPress integrationWriting workshopsApp store marketingSirius sat down, gently pulling Harry down to join him, keeping an arm wrapped around the boy's shoulders. Harry leaned into the touch, staring straight ahead at the goblins. He was using every ounce of self control he possessed to prevent him from glancing over at the Dursleys, and cowering away. He could feel their gazes boring into him. They had been silenced but that didn't stop them from glaring at him with so much hate the force of it made him quail. He was going to stay strong, he would get through this but all his instincts were screaming at him to run, to get away, to run so they couldn't hurt him and it was only strength of will and his godfather's grip that kept him in his seat.
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The prosecutor, an older female goblin, her expression hawk-like and fierce had been watching their progress and now Harry was somewhat settled in the witness stand she came forward to start the testimony. "Mr Potter, can you tell the court what your life was life, growing up in the Dursley household before we move onto more specific matters?"
Harry took a deep breath and prepared to speak when his eyes darted towards the Dursley's; a habit ingrained in him through years of beatings, to check with his uncle before he did or said anything about his home life. His uncle's features were twisted in a snarl his eyes promised the worst beating he had ever sustained if he ever spoke. He couldn't help it; years of being forced to keep quiet asserted themselves in that one moment and he opened his mouth but nothing came out. Fear rose up in him as well as disgust. He was so weak. He could face a Basilisk, a teacher possessed by Lord Voldemort himself but he couldn't say anything against his Aunt and Uncle even when he was at a trial and he knew they couldn't hurt him.
Discover moreAnxiety & StressChildren's BooksScience Fiction & Fantasy BooksPsychologyE-BooksUncle Vernon was still staring at him although as the silence stretched his mouth curved upwards in a smug smirk. He knew he had thoroughly beaten the boy. The freaks could drag them to trial but they couldn't make the freak to speak, weak and pathetic as he was, clinging to his godfather like a needy child. Harry couldn't drag his eyes away, the smirk made him feel so angry but he was still helpless. He couldn't speak out, Uncle Vernon had ensured that with the years of abuse, the years of punishments, pounding his message into him with numerous beatings, not to mention the constant stream of verbal abuse.
"Close your eyes." The command was spoken softly but it was still a command. Sirius pulled him against his side, recognising that Harry needed help to break out of the influence his uncle exerted over him, repeating the command just as gently. Harry leaned against him, latching onto the sound of his godfather's voice. Sirius repeated the command once more and with a great effort Harry tore his gaze away and shut his eyes.
The effect was instantaneous. Although the fear was still there it was not as strong as before. He still didn't want anyone to know but he would be able to do this. The memory of Uncle Vernon's face rose in his mind, but it was just that, a memory. It didn't have the same power as the man himself did. It didn't have the same power to terrify and silence him. It couldn't bring back the scared five year old cowering against the back of his cupboard, praying for somebody, anybody to come and take him away.
Sucking in a deep breath he started to speak but still keeping his eyes closed, his voice flat and devoid of any emotion.
"My room was the cupboard under the stairs. I've slept there for as long as I can remember, the only time I got a room was in the summers after I got my letter to Hogwarts but this summer I was moved back to the cupboard. I don't know why." You could have cut the silence in the courtroom with a knife. Harry however was completely oblivious to this, continuing to speak in the same deadened voice, still leaning against Sirius's side, taking comfort from the presence of the older wizard.
"My chores started just after I turned three. I cooked the meals, cleaned the house, any household chores were usually mine including hovering, washing up and any maintenance such as painting the fence. Outdoor work started when I was six, in addition to the chores inside, I was responsible for keeping the garden tidy, weeding, mowing the lawn, trimming the hedges and all related work and I was also expected to clean the windows and the car."
Beside him he heard Sirius's sharp intake of breath and he felt his godfather's arms tense. But he didn't mind the reaction, it proved beyond a doubt that Sirius cared and that caused a warm feeling to rise up in him. Sirius was angry on his behalf, it was the first time in his life that anyone had actually stood up for him and tried to protect him and it made him feel so, so loved and that made it that little bit easier to talk about.
Discover moreAuthor toolsWriter communityMobile user analyticsAuthor resourcesMobile fanfiction appHe paused, wondering what to say next. Describe your life at the Dursleys was a fairly broad question to ask and he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to say. He had told them about the chores and the cupboard, was the punishments, the taunts, the lies and the slurs against his parents involved in that as well or was he supposed to wait for another question to be asked? He was saved from making a decision by the prosecutor, who had obviously had some experience with these sorts of cases, and noticing the pause asked a second question, more information could always be found later.
"How did you receive all the injuries that were documented on the medical scans? Just general information please, I will enquire about specific incidents later."
Nodding his acknowledgment of the clear instructions Harry started speaking again, still keeping his eyes closed tightly, trying not to remember specific details.
"They were from punishments and Dudley mostly. Dudley was encourage to beat me up. He had a gang at school, they called it 'Harry Hunting' and they would play it every break time and after school. If they caught me they would beat me up. It got worse as I got older, and they got stronger." He paused then continued, his voice still dead. "There were also the punishments, whenever I did something wrong, or freakish," his voice curled around the word, "Uncle Vernon would beat me and throw me into the cupboard. It happened fairly regularly, most days I would be hit at least once and I hardly went a week without getting at least two beatings." It was taking a huge effort to keep his voice level. As he spoke events were flashing before his eyes, he had buried the memories deeply but talking about them was bringing them all back.
Uncle Vernon would take him into the spare room and close the door. He would always be taken there for punishments. The walls were white and clean, almost mocking him with their innocent colour, as if they didn't know that was the room he hated above all else at the Dursleys. The bland walls seemed so harsh and unforgiving, time and time again he had been beaten in that room and every time they would stand there and come out unmarked whilst he would be a mess of bruises and cuts and sometimes even broken bones. He could remember it clearly, too clearly.
Uncle Vernon's hand on his throat, pushing him against the wall making it hard to breathe. His hot breath on his face, sometimes tainted with the smell of drink and his other hand rising and falling again and again whilst his mouth spat insults that he knew were true, that he believed. And then the pain. Pain every time the fist connected with his flesh, pain from every single bruise and cut that littered his body. Feeling like he was on fire and when Uncle Vernon dropped him, curling into a tiny ball before pulling his way, hand after shaking hand, despite the blood, myriad bruises and broken bones, back to his cupboard.
He didn't realise his voice had trailed off, didn't realise he was shaking until he felt his godfather's arms go round him. Suddenly he realised tremors were running through his body, he was shaking in Sirius's firm hold and his godfather was murmuring reassurances, giving as much comfort as possible.
The images faded and as soon as they did he felt a sense of shame well up inside him. He hadn't been able to deal with it and he hadn't even had to describe anything in detail. Uncle Vernon was right, he was weak and worthless. He couldn't even deal with a memory that couldn't hurt him and he had broken down in front of the entire court like a young child. He was weak and a freak, nobody normal would ever react so badly. This was part of the reason he hadn't wanted anyone to know. What would they think if they knew that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived couldn't stand up to his stupid muggle uncle and broke down just because he had a flashback? All his uncle's taunts had been right. He was a freak and weak. There was no other explanation.
Face burning, he pulled away. He didn't deserve the comfort Sirius was giving him, he was completely and utterly useless. However his godfather was much stronger than he was and his arms held him firmly, preventing him from escaping no matter how much he wanted to. Unwilling to make more of a scene in front of the goblin court, they probably already think I'm mad, he thought bitterly, he allowed Sirius to continue to hold him. It was only then the words the animagus was speaking actually started to penetrate.
"You are not weak Harry James. You have been through things most people would have nightmares about; of course you didn't come out unscathed. You are not weak, you are extremely strong. What they did was inexcusable and for you to still be the kind, loving, compassionate, wonderful boy is nothing short of a miracle." The passion in Sirius's voice was obvious and Harry was more than a little startled by his vehemence. He made a move to protest but Sirius stopped him.
"No Harry, listen to me. Most people would have been unable to stand your life and for you to have gone through all that and still be the incredible boy you are makes me extremely proud of you."
Startled his eyes flashed up to meet Sirius's and he could see nothing but truth in the clear grey eyes that were still looking kindly down at him. "You are sitting here and talking about what you went through and that takes more strength than I and most other wizards possess." Slowly the shaking was stopping. Never before had anyone told him something so simple as the fact they were proud of him and slowly he began to see some of what Sirius was arguing. He didn't believe his godfather when he said he was strong but he could see clearly that Sirius was proud of him and that more than anything else convinced him that he was going to get through the rest of the testimony, even if he had to sit on Sirius's lap to do so. He would make his godfather proud.
"Think you can continue?"
Harry nodded decisively, turning his attention back to the goblins but ensuring his gaze didn't so much as pass over the Dursleys. He was expecting to see annoyance or impatience at the very least, after all this was a trial and very few wizards were ever allowed to have a case heard here and goblins were not renowned for their patience. However to his utmost surprise there wasn't even a hint of irritation on any of the goblin's features, not even the prosecutor's. Instead most of the goblins had a look of understanding on their features, particularly those in the judging panel, suddenly Sharpclaw's words came back to him, "You are not the first child they have seen seek comfort from their guardian in cases like this." So maybe his reaction was normal, perhaps they had expected this, which was why they weren't really reacting to it.
Noting that Harry had recovered somewhat the prosecutor stepped forward to continue the questioning.
"How did you receive the two fractures in your legs, a fractured spine, a broken wrist, internal injuries and a concussion during the June of 1988?"
Harry suddenly felt extremely glad Sirius hadn't allowed him to escape, still had him tightly wrapped in an embrace. The memory of that beating was one of the worst he had; it only came second to hearing the murder of his parents. It hadn't just been the awful pain of the injuries but the taunts that Uncle Vernon had delivered had been some of the harshest he had ever had heard. Keeping his eyes focussed on his godfather, hoping that would prevent him from having a flashback he drew breath and started to speak.
"It was the worst beating I had ever received. When I took my report home from school at the end of the summer term it said I had received a detention for being found on the school roof even though I didn't know how I got up there. I now know it was accidental magic and I apparated in order to escape Dudley and his gang who were chasing me and that my Aunt and Uncle were also aware that it was accidental magic." He spoke in a measured tone but Sirius could feel how tense his godson was and he knew that the calm facade he was showing was just that, an act. Tenderly he rubbed Harry's back with one hand but it seemed to make no difference.
"They waited until the summer holidays and until Dudley was in bed. They didn't want the school to become suspicious, and they would be if I stayed off too long because of an 'illness' and they didn't want to frighten Dudley...
"You used your freakishness didn't you boy?" Uncle Vernon spat, his face a mottled red and the stench of whisky on his breath. "It isn't enough that you come here and poison our lovely normal household with your filth but you have to do it where people can see you. You'll make them think we're freaks boy and I won't stand for that." His voice had gone cold and somehow it was all the more frightening for that.
"Your punishments haven't worked before so I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't ever forget. I'm going to stamp it out of you once and for all." He could see the crazed light in his uncle's eyes and the anger that was only fuelled by the excessive amounts of alcohol he had consumed.
Whimpering Harry pulled back until he was pressed against the wall of the guest room. "NO UNCLE, PLEASE." He screamed. "I didn't do anything, I don't know what happened. Please don't punish me, please, please." A sharp kick to the ribs cut his begging off instantly and he curled in on himself, gasping as he tried to breath around the pain in his chest.
"You pathetic wretch. If you make one more sound I will lock you in your cupboard for the entirety of the summer understand?" Too frightened to speak Harry simply nodded. "I SAID DO YOU UNDERSTAND!" He roared.
"Y-y-yes sir." His eyes were wide and frightened, emerald orbs filled with terror. It was an expression no eight year old should ever possess.
The smile had returned to Vernon's face. It showed an almost sadistic pleasure in the terror it was about to inflict on a small child and for Harry it promised nothing more than the worst pain he had ever felt. Still grinning manically, he reached into a cupboard and pulled out an old cricket bat, the wood hard and unyielding. Harry blanched, all blood flowing from his face and instantly he curled up into a tight ball, his hands coming up to protect his face. There was nothing he could do. No other defence he could hide behind, all he could hope to do was protect his face and chest.
The bat rose in preparation for the first blow and Harry pulled himself into the smallest ball he could, trying to provide the smallest target he could but still knowing that the pain would come and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He couldn't even scream.
The bat fell, hitting his back with a sickening crunch. Pain flared along his spine instantly and Harry bit his tongue so hard it bled to keep the scream locked up in his throat. But he couldn't control his body. At the first blow his legs jerked outward, pulling him out of his foetal position and sending him sprawling to the floor. Between that blow and the next he yanked his hands up to cover his face once more, the pain that lanced up his back every time he tried to move preventing him from returning to his original position.
Blows rained down on him, the cracks they made as the impacted with his body mingled with the roaring of his blood in his ears and the taunts his uncle was screaming at him.
Pain screamed from his legs as blow after blow hit him. From the agony coursing through his body he was certain that at least one if not both his legs were broken and still his uncle's words were ringing in his ears. "FREAK! WORTHLESS FREAK! YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED WITH THOSE MISERABLE EXCUSES OF PARENTS AND THEN WE WOULD NEVER HAVE TO BE BURDNED WITH YOU! FREAK!"
The agony was building and building and building. His body thrashed on the floor, desperately trying to escape the pain that engulfed it but there was nowhere to go. Blood filled his mouth and dribbled out onto the wooden floor, leaving crimson trails. His hands were stained red and he could see the edge of the bat was slick with his blood.
Then, miraculously the blows stopped. Harry couldn't believe it, he had managed not to scream, maybe now the beating would be over. One glance at his uncle's face dispelled that idea immediately. Rage was still plain to see in his entire posture.
A hand reached down and grabbed his throat, yanking him upwards. "You will wish you died along with your bitch of a mother, freak." He whispered, his voice deadly. He threw Harry back down onto the floor then the bat rose and was wacked down on his spine. It collided with a sickening crack and Harry's body arched. Pain more intense than anything he had ever felt before surged through him for a split second and the scream he had fought so valiantly to keep locked up was torn from his throat.
Then he collapsed as blessed, blessed numbness flooded through his legs although pain still lanced up his back. Uncle Vernon grabbed him and flung him against the wall, the impact causing his head to snap back and his vision to start swimming. "I thought I told you to make no noise," he growled. Throwing the bat to one side he proceeded to beat Harry with his fists, blows connecting one after another in a single strand of agony.
Pain. Blackness. Pain. Blackness. Harry couldn't stay awake. Flashes of pain rushed through him, keeping him awake but the blackness was yawning, getting wider and wider with each passing second. He was sinking deeper and deeper. Everything, including Uncle Vernon was fading, soon they would be gone, the pain as well. He welcomed the blackness. Soon it would all vanish.
"I don't remember any more. I woke up in the hospital but that whole period is still rather hazy. The medicine they gave me meant I was asleep half the time and the rest was clouded by the painkillers." Harry's voice came to a stop in the now silent courtroom. Almost detachedly he realised his cheeks were wet and tears were still pouring down them. He couldn't remember when he started crying.
There was a beat of absolute stillness in the courtroom when he finished then he found himself crushed against Sirius's chest. His godfather's arms wrapped around him and holding onto him as if Sirius thought he was about to disappear. Harry's face was buried against his godfather's chest and his hands gripped the animagus's robes tightly and he had no intention of letting go. His hair was wet, not from his own tears but Sirius's and his own tears were soaking his godfather's robes but he didn't care, not anymore, no matter what his audience thought. The memories had been too painful, too hard to relive.
All around them the goblins were in uproar. Abuse was completely taboo in their culture and to hear the account of his beatings, to realise those beasts cared so little for the child in their care that they had injured him so badly that he would have been paralysed except for an outburst of accidental magic in the hospital. Yes there were abuse cases in the goblin world but none so severe as this one.
But Harry ignored the shouting and the fury that surrounded him. It was over, he had done it. He had told the entire court the worst memories he had of the Dursleys treatment, yes there were still horrible stories but the worst was over and he had survived it. He was scared and shaken and he felt as if a hundred dementors had been alongside him whilst he was giving his testimony, forcing him to relive the pain and despair of that night but he had done it and Sirius was here, holding him as if he planned never letting go. And that was perfectly alright with Harry. He clung to Sirius, tears still streaming down his face. He could remember it too clearly, he could feel the ghost of the searing pain fill him and only the presence of Sirius reminded him he was no longer there, he was safe and they couldn't harm him anymore.
And it was only going to get easier now. The memories were still awful but now he had conquered the worst ones the others would come more easily. He had beaten them, finally he had broken away from the Dursleys and managed to face up to what they had put him through. It had only taken him reliving one of his worst memories but it was a start. Now the healing could properly begin.
There were a few more questions after that and although his voice shook and he still stayed in Sirius's lap, tear tracks marking his face Harry answered them all. He still hated every single moment he was on the stand but he was able to cope, he didn't break down again. He had to close that part of his life, he had to get rid of the stain they had poured over his life and the shadow they covered him in. And so he talked.
Once he had started the words didn't seem to stop. They poured out of him, describing his treatment in minute detail, every taunt, every rule, every beating, nothing was left out. The entire time Sirius stayed with him, holding him in an embrace and providing support just by his presence.
Finally he was finished. The rush of words ceased and he rested his head against Sirius's shoulder, suddenly tired. He had bared his entire life with his relatives and it had hurt but for some reason he felt better, much happier than he had ever felt before. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted, leaving a more complete person behind. He knew there were still scars, some which would never fade and that he would still have problems trusting and he would still have nightmares and worry but he had managed to rid himself of a large portion of their influence. He would never be quite so frightened of Uncle Vernon again.
Sirius stood, helping Harry to his feet and leading him back to their seats, his arm still wrapped around the teen. For his part Harry just allowed himself to be led and as soon as they reached their seats he sank down next to Sirius and curled up against his godfather's side, his head pillowed against Sirius's shoulder. His godfather wrapped one arm around him protectively and Harry smiled wearily before closing his eyes and burying his face in his godfather's robes.
He was emotionally exhausted. The testimony had taken him through panic, fear, despair, resolve and finally relief mixed with hope. He had seen some of his worst memories and finally confronted the people who had made his life hell ever since he was old enough to walk and it was over. They would never hurt him again, except in his nightmares and he had Sirius now, he had a family, a father in all but blood and despite the problems that would arise he knew he was loved.
He didn't want to hear the Dursley's defence. It would only hurt him if he listened to it and maybe even bring back some of the doubts, some of the memories. Harry focussed his attention on his godfather, to the exclusion of everything else. He could hear the jagged heartbeat and he could feel the slight movement of Sirius's breath as it flowed through the animagus's lungs. He wouldn't be able to sleep, not here, not with their presence but he could do the next best thing. He relaxed as far as he was able, Sirius's strong arms holding him securely. He was safe.
Sirius clenched his jaw tightly. It was the only thing he could do without alerting Harry to his anger. Listening to the account of Harry's experiences at the hands of the bastards he called his Aunt and Uncle had filled him with rage and it was only the presence of Harry, snuggled against his side that was preventing him from jumping up and cursing them with every dark hex he had ever been forced to learn by his family. He had known that they had done awful things to Harry but hearing the account of his worst beating left him feeling cold. Harry had been paralysed, if he hadn't done accidental magic he would never have walked again, never ridden a broom, would never have had the chance to run around Hogwarts or do so so many things.
Sorrow and grief filled him, Harry had been hurt so badly, and not just physically but emotionally as well and it was his fault. If he hadn't suggested the switch in secret keepers, if he hadn't gone after the rat instead of looking after his godson Harry would never have had to go through that hell. Harry had forgiven him, he didn't blame him but that didn't stop him blaming himself. It was his fault and although he would never be able to reclaim those years he had spent in Azkaban whilst Harry was being tortured by his relatives, he would do everything in his power to give Harry all the love and affection had been missing. To be the parent Harry had never been able to have.
Sirius's eyes narrowed as Vernon Dursley was un-silenced for the first time since his outburst at the beginning of the trial. He knew that everybody deserved a chance to speak in their own defence, his experiences had shown him more clearly than anyone else that everyone deserved a trial, there was always and chance no matter how small that they were actually innocent. That thought however did not stop the hate he felt for the man to stir, the person who had dared to hurt his godson. The person he was sure would be found guilty.
Held back by several heavy restraints Vernon Dursley made his way slowly to the stand. Sirius smiled in vicious satisfaction as he noticed that the bastard was limping, evidently the goblins had tormented him physically before the trial had started. On his way to the stand Vernon glared straight at Harry, his mouth curling up in a sneer that greatly resembled Snape and his eyes glinted with rage. Reflexively Sirius tightened his hold and pulled Harry closer. There was a short pause then, "What's wrong?" His godson asked quietly, not moving from his position at Sirius's side. Sirius's free hand came up and brushed gently through his pup's messy black hair. "Nothing's wrong Harry," he replied softly, "It's just your Uncle, and I'm a little protective and angry at the moment." The only response was Harry reaching out and wrapping his arms around his godfather and Sirius couldn't help but smile at the caring and compassionate nature of his godson. That was definitely something he had inherited from Lily.
"Vernon Dursley, you are called to present your defence for the allegations of abuse to one Harry James Potter Heir Apparent."
"Now look here," Vernon began angrily, "I don't know what you freaks are thinking which made you drag us all the way out here and make us sit through this farce of a trial but I will not stand it, do you hear me! It's kidnapping plain and simple and my family and I want nothing to do with your freakish world and abnormal people. It's bad enough we had to have one of them in the house in the first place." His voice was getting louder and louder and Sirius could feel Harry starting to tremble although he could see his godson was trying his hardest not to pay attention. Gently he started stroking his fingers through Harry's hair, hoping the gesture would remind Harry that he was here and that Sirius was with him and wouldn't let the bastard hurt him ever again.
Vernon turned and levelled a hate filled glare straight at Harry. "It's all that freak's fault. He came into our nice normal lives and disrupted them. We swore we wouldn't have one in the house! Swore we'd stamp it out of him but no he had to get a letter didn't he! He had to be one of them. He deserved it, he deserved to be punished, he deserved everything he got!" Vernon's voice had risen to a shout and Sirius felt anger well up inside him.
How dare that thing sit there and say his godson deserved to be punished, deserved the beatings! No child ever deserved treatment like that but definitely not Harry, not his wonderful, kind, loving child! He was on his feet, his wand pointing straight at Vernon, cold fury etched on his face. "Say that again Dursley," he hissed menacingly, one arm still wrapped around Harry, holding the boy tightly against him and trying to reassure him that his anger was not directed at him.
Harry clung to Sirius. He had been taken by surprise when his godfather had surged to his feet but he had quickly managed to get to his own feet, still keeping his grip on his godfather and Sirius's arm still holding him tightly, showing him that the fury Harry could feel throbbing around him was not directed at him but rather at his Uncle. But even with his face still buried in Sirius's robes he could clearly hear the sneer in his uncle's voice as he replied.
"He's a pathetic, weak, worthless freak. Look at him! Not even man enough to face the truth! Instead he hides behind you like a child, freak that he is."
Sirius's voice was soft when he spoke again, but it didn't lose any of its bite or potency.
"He is still a child. As much as child as your son, more of a child even. A child who deserves a family, a home, love. Something you seem to have forgotten when you shut him up in a cupboard, treated him like a slave, beat him and taunted him. And a wonderful child like him is something you could never be or understand Dursley."
Vernon Dursley stood there, mouth open, unable to think of a reply. The comment about Dudley had hit home.
Anger spent somewhat, Sirius sat down once more, gently pulling Harry into an embrace, smiling as Harry relaxed and returned the hug. As Vernon Dursley was dismissed from the stand the goblins started their deliberations. Sirius knew that with the evidence that had been presented and the lack of any proper defence it was only a matter of how severe the punishment would be and looking at the fierce shouting and gesturing in gobbledegook, there was certainly a large amount of disagreement.
His attention was distracted by his godson. After the confrontation Harry had curled up against him and had wrapped his arms around him, refusing to let go. In a quiet voice, so that nobody else could hear he whispered, "Why Sirius?"
"Why what pup?" Sirius asked softly, his face betraying his confusion. Harry raised his head from its position against his godfather's chest and looked up, Sirius was startled to see the pain and trouble in his eyes. "Why did they hate me? What did I do to make them do that?" The simplicity of the question tore at his heart. But the inflection that it might have been Harry's fault in whatever way was even worse.
"You didn't do anything pup." He replied, his voice tender. "You did nothing to deserve it, it was no way your fault." Harry's emerald eyes were fixed on his, searching for any signs of deceit. "You were only a baby when they started, and you are still just a child. There is nothing you could ever do that would have warranted what they did to you, it was completely inexcusable."
"But why?" Harry's voice was barely a whisper and the hurt was plain to see. Sirius pulled him closer and held him gently, letting his love surround his godson.
"I don't know pup," he replied quietly. "I don't understand how anyone could hurt a child and especially you." Harry met his gaze for several more moments before smiling slightly and resting his head against his godfather's chest once more. A sad smile tugged at Sirius's lips. Harry was here and safe but the fact that they had to have a trial in the first place only reminded him even more strongly of his failure when it came to his godson. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss into Harry's messy hair. "I love you Harry," he whispered, "And I am so, so proud of what you have done today."
The goblins had finished their deliberations. The leader of the judging panel walked forward, his expression set. Slowly he raised his hand and instantly the whole courtroom fell silent, waiting for him to speak.
"We were assembled today to investigate the crime of child abuse at the call of Sharpclaw on behalf of Lord Black and his ward Harry Potter Heir Apparent." He paused for a moment, allowing the charges to sink in before continuing. "The evidence we have been presented shows a systematic system of abuse, all aimed at harming the child both physically and emotionally and the revelations today have shown this case to be the worst ever to have been heard in a goblin court since our founding. As such the sentences are as follows;"
"To Mr Vernon Dursley: Firstly the entirety of your estate is to be confiscated and added to the Potter Vaults as monetary compensation for the wrongs against him. Secondly you are given 57 life sentences in the Mines of Kirth-Sevn."
"To Mrs Petunia Dursley nee Evans: You are given 19 life sentences in the Mines of Kirth-Sevn."
"Lastly to Dudley Dursley: As you are still a minor and you actions were heavily influenced by your parents your sentence has been adapted to compensate. You will serve 20 years in the Mines of Kirth-Sevn before you will be oblivated, de-aged and provided with a new identity before you serve a year in a secure muggle young offenders facility before you will rejoin muggle society."
A single life sentence in the mines was harsh, it would involve backbreaking labour, little food, being kept in isolation for the entirety of the sentence with no parole. And multiple life sentences were more than just a formality, when the Dursleys approached the end of their natural life cycle they would be de-aged to young people before living out their second sentence, a cycle which would be repeated until all their life sentences had been spent. Only then would they be allowed to die.
It would be 2850 years before Vernon Dursley would be allowed that escape and he would beg for death before the end.
The goblin's gaze surveyed the Dursleys, seeing for the first time expressions of fear on their faces as they realised what this actually meant, that they were actually in trouble that they couldn't get out of. Then, "Take them away." He barked. Instantly goblin guards sprang into action, taking the Dursleys at sword point they were lead out of the chamber to begin their sentences.
Harry collapsed against Sirius, relief flowing through him. The Dursleys were gone. They would never, ever be able to reach him again. He could scarcely believe it, the people who had tortured him all his life, throughout his entire childhood were gone and nothing would ever be able to bring them back. He was free, for the first time in nearly thirteen years he was completely free. He felt tears spring into his eyes, tears of relief but he couldn't turn away until the Dursleys were completely gone. He had to watch, had to see for himself that they had been taken away just so he could believe it was real. He held his tears back until they had gone then he turned, burying his face in Sirius's chest so that nobody would see his tears, see his complete and utter relief that it was over. It was finally, completely and utterly over.
His godfather held him, stroking his fingers through his hair and letting him cry. He didn't say anything, he just held him tightly, letting Harry soak his robes with his tears and for that Harry was grateful. He wasn't sure he could cope with anything more, all that filled him was relief and there wasn't anything he could do to stop his tears or calm him down.
Slowly the tears stopped and he felt Sirius's hand on his shoulder encouraging him to stand. Shakily he stood, tear tracks marking his face. He saw Sharpclaw murmuring something to his godfather and he saw the flash of surprise that crossed the animagus's face followed by the nod of acquiescence. "The head judge wants to speak with us before we leave Harry," he said quietly. "There isn't anything wrong," he added hastily when he saw the fear that sprung into Harry's face at his words.
Sharpclaw led them both down to the floor of the courtroom where a regal looking goblin stood, his face still set in stern lines, however these lost some of their strength as his gaze fell on Harry. "Come here young one," he commanded, his gravelly voice somehow containing a compassion that few had ever heard. Glancing up at Sirius worriedly, Harry hesitantly started towards the goblin. He shivered slightly, here in the courtroom he suddenly felt very exposed without Sirius beside him.
"Your father may join you, although you need not be afraid young one." Confusion was etched on Harry's face and he glanced back at Sirius, asking the goblin a question with his eyes. Yes he regarded his godfather as a father figure but how on earth did the goblin know and why did he refer to Sirius as such?
"He may not be your father by birth or blood but he has become your father through trust and love." The goblin said. Harry smiled and threw a look at Sirius, asking him to come with his eyes. The animagus nodded slightly and soon Harry felt his hand resting firmly on his shoulder. A large portion of his fear evaporated as he leaned into the comforting touch. With a few quick strides they were standing in front of the goblin, meeting his eyes respectfully as Sirius had taught him. For a moment the goblin's expression lightened, before it sobered once more.
"Young one, you have endured much for one your age and have become strong because of it but you still have wounds that need healing. You must not be afraid to ask for help, despite the experiences that have forced you to rely only on yourself. Your father loves you child, let him help you and cherish his support. I have seldom seen a parental bond so strong between two individuals and you are blessed because of it. However I would like to extend the blessings of the goblin race over you, to aid in your healing. Wounds from those who should have cared are always the hardest to heal."
Pressure from Sirius's hand indicated that he should kneel and he quickly complied, bowing his head to accept the blessing. The ancient goblin chanted for several moments, the guttural language rising and falling in cadences. Then he reached out his hand and laid it on Harry's head, palm across the scar. It stayed there for a few moments before the goblin pulled his hand back, his expression furious.
"Will someone please tell me how in Ymir's name this boy is a horcrux?