Harry Potter: New World - Chapter 369
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I spent about an hour at Mr. Guber’s house. During this time, we discussed all the nuances of the forthcoming case, compiled a list of necessary appendices to the statement and other materials, compiled the statements themselves in two copies, the work on one of which will depend on Lady Greengrass’s decision regarding publicity. After that, using Mr. Guber’s owl, I sent copies of the statements to Nymphadora and, leaving the money to the lawyer, I went back to Hogwarts.
Sneaking under the spell of secrecy into the castle, I was in some anticipation of what was to come. Anticipation and apprehension at the same time. But all unnecessary thoughts were put aside when I, in the middle of the night, entered the hospital wing of Hogwarts. Lady Greengrass was still there, holding the hand of a calmed and asleep Daphne. Hermione and Astoria were also already sleeping in their assigned beds, so I transfigured a chair next to Delphine’s chair and cast a privacy spell around us.
“I have just one question, mentor,” I spoke quietly, trying not to create unnecessary noise even through the privacy charms. “Is publicity permissible in this matter?”
Delphine looked at me with some incomprehension, but rubbing the thick braid of almost white hair thrown over her shoulder, she understood the meaning of my question.
“Are you up to something? And yes, acceptable. It’s not like anything happened.”
“Nothing special. Just a preemptive strike through the Wizengamot. It is unlikely that there will be a tangible sense, but there will still be some result. You, as I can see by your eyes, are also up to something.”
“Yes. But this is somewhat different. You said I could call for you in case of anything, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then I may need your help. I’ll let you know,” Delphine nodded importantly.
“Good. I need something from the girls right now, and unfortunately, we have to wake them up.”
“I’ll do it. Come back in a couple of minutes.”
I quietly walked away, closing the white screen behind me, and stepped stealthily toward Madame Pomfrey’s office. After knocking on the door and waiting for an answer, I went inside.
Madam Pomfrey’s office looked more like a warehouse of various potions, bandages, and other medical equipment, and Madam Pomfrey herself, sitting at a separate table, looked like an intendant.
“Mr. Knight?” the gaunt witch looked at me in a surprised and stern manner. “Why aren’t you in bed yet?”
“I need your help, Madam Pomfrey.”
“Hmm. Something happened?”
“Absolutely. For a possible disciplinary hearing on the case, which will be initiated any minute, the diagnostic results of all the participants are required. The twelve guys you know from Slytherin, Miss Astoria, Daphne Greengrass, and Miss Granger.”
Madam Pomfrey looked at me extremely surprised.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Knight. But I can only give them to representatives of the DMLE or Aurors. Or by official order to a member of the Wizengamot.”
“I don’t need to pick them up,” I smiled. “I just want to make sure of their authenticity and certify it.”
“Certify it?”
“As a member of the Wizengamot from the House of Black.”
I pulled the appropriate parchment from my pocket, and Madam Pomfrey touched it with her wand, making sure of its authenticity.
“Well… That’s acceptable.”
Madam Pomfrey got up from the table and walked over to the filing cabinet I hadn’t noticed before. Pulling out one of the drawers that seemed endless, she began methodically searching for the folders she needed, taking out sheets of parchment from there. When she had fifteen sheets in her hands, she slid the drawer back and returned to the table, putting them in front of me. The verification procedure is simple — I hold one end of the parchment, Madam Pomfrey — the other. This is how the signature and seal of the healer are manifested… Master healer. Interesting.
Although I did not read the text of the conclusions, but I saw them, which means I remembered it. All are original, and I didn’t learn anything new there. Bodily injuries of varying complexity, but light according to the local classification. The girls have stress, abrasions, bruises, and Daphne has an almost disappeared trace of Imperio. As I noted at the Tournament, and in the books before that, the Imperio’s trace can only be detected within a very short period of time after its disappearance, but paradoxically, it cannot be diagnosed at the moment of the Unforgivable without knowing the patient’s initial mental data. If at least an hour had passed from the moment of removal from Daphne Imperio and before hospitalization, it would have been impossible to find traces of the spell. Approximately the same situation developed in the early eighties, when real Death Eaters lied by saying that they allegedly acted under Imperio – it was impossible to prove it, and Veritaserum will not answer these questions because a man under Imperio does not know how and why he acted so and not otherwise.
Having made sure of the authenticity of all the diagnostics that Madam Pomfrey is obliged to perform when someone goes to the hospital wing, I put the sheets in a separate folder. Having found a red block of magic sealing wax on the table of our healer, I sprinkled a couple of drops from it onto the folder, attaching my ring with coat of arms to it.
“Verum, Wizengamot Senior…”
All the protocol phrases are in mangled Latin. At least it’s not in French, which became popular in the Middle Ages.
“Thank you, Madame Pomfrey. Either my lawyer, Herr Guber or the DMLE can come for copies.”
Madam Pomfrey just nodded, putting the folder in the desk drawer, and I left her office, walking back through the hospital wing, back behind the screen to the girls.