Chapter Text
The first word who come to mind when one's thoughts turn to goblins is grumpy. Or, granted, a synonymous. A wizard walking in that particular office of Gringotts, in that particular meeting between the Director, the Head of Security, both the Account's Manager of Sirius Black and the Potters and last but not least the Head of the Inheritance Office... Yes, a wizard walking in would not take the time to think as his body would immediately take over and start running to stay alive. Maybe would he stop to take a breath and even eat something while looking over his shoulder but he would definitely not think about that office until, years later, he would be found by an adventurous hiker hiding in a tree and forced to see a mind healer and pass the rest of his life in the safety of the psychiatric ward.
#So, Hammertooth, what about Sirius Black's trial?# asked the Director. #Still pending, according to the files. Not likely to ever happen, I believe.# shrugged Hammertooth, with a nasty look. #And the Potter's will? What happened to it?# asked the Director, this time to the Head of the Inheritance Office... Who was the more murderous of them all, if possible - because, quite frankly, is it possible to be more murderous to a bunch of goblins already contemplating on how to kill as many wizards possible in the least amount of time? And who had already jotted down quite the amount of really nasty ideas? Daggerbeard took a breath before answering, in a calm voice with icy fury on it, #We have, of course, already took care of the financial aspect of it. Every monetary deposit required by the Potters have been made, the change of ownership of one manor is still going on since we haven't yet tracked down the heir for that. What is particularly concerning, though, is the placement of the son. He was supposed to go either to Sirius Black or Alice Longbottom. Since both are... indisposed, for the moment, we were considering giving him temporarily to Augusta Longbottom, as it should be. But Dumbledore took him right after the death and told us the child was with his mother's relatives, hidden behind blood wards. Their will clearly state that the boy should never fall under the guardianship of these muggles.# He was staring at a file on the office of the Director like he could hear him cry for mercy and wished not to grant him it. #What do we know about these blood wards?# It was the Head of Security who answered this time: #They hid the boy well, but are linked to intentions. When we manage to find him since we don't have ill wills toward him, we won't have any problem.# #Good# answered the Director. #Now, what was it about the key to the Potters' vaults?#
Llewellyn Ward was a happy wizard. Recent graduate of the Durmstrang Institute, having successfully acquired his diplomas in international, French, German, Italian and British laws and pursuing the merry business of any lawyer. His speciality was criminal law and while he had a nice office as a junior associate in a great firm he was never truly happy but when he had the opportunity to, as he said, "put it in the arse" of a government or a big company - and at home with his young wife and his adorable son. And his name was already one of the ones that were only whispered in the offices of those who had the unfortunate idea to challenge him in court. Even some judges dreaded the idea to have this young attorney in their court. But today he was probably the happiest he ever was except for his wedding and the birth of his son because of what he just heard from his mentor. Gringotts wanted to hire him to ensure the infamous Sirius Black got a trial and charge one quite famous Albus Dumbledore with kidnapping, fraud and identity theft. He couldn't stop the grin. The papers had already written stories and speculations about the Boy-Who-Lived, the defeat of the self-proclaimed British Dark Lord and the treason of the boy's godfather and his murderous rampage in a muggle street. "I guess it's a yes then" was all his mentor said with a chuckle before dismissing him so he could prepare for his trip.
A few days later, a quite surprised Sirius Black was transferred from Azkaban to a high-security cell in London, where he was told to await his trial where he would be sentenced to the Kiss. He didn't really care for the threat, he didn't even hope for a trial before that. He had been so stupid to let Hagrid took Harry and to go after Peter alone. He just hoped that Alice took good care of his godson. He was even more surprised when after his first night of good sleep, one of the guards brought him to the visitation area, telling him with a sneer that his lawyer wanted to meet him.
The young man - because he was young, maybe younger than him - who greeted him on the area was well-dressed with a bottle green cloak over a nice grey shirt and black trousers, though it was all a bit fade compared to his bright blue hair. That was probably the most recent lawyer in Britain and he couldn't get away from refusing a public appointment by the DMLE. He was quickly corrected when, after the guards had left them, the lawyer threw a bunch of privacy spell and sat down. "I guess, Mr Black, that you must be quite confused. I will give you a rundown of what transpired during the last month and why I am here today, I will answer your questions at the best of my abilities and then we will get to work. First of all, I have been hired by Gringotts and they're the ones who pay my fees, so that's one thing you don't need to worry about. Second of all, you and Alice Longbottom were to be the guardians of Harry Potter if something happened to his parents as stated in their will. Thirdly, well... Since both of you are... indisposed... Young Harry should have gone, per the regulations of Gringotts, the will and the laws of Britain to Augusta Longbottom, who's already caring for her grandson. Instead, Albus Dumbledore have removed Mr Potter from the wizarding world and trusted him to one Petunia Dursley, née Evans, sister of Lily Potter. They're hidden behind powerful wards, but the goblins are tracking them down. As soon as your trial his over - and do know that they don't care about the result - they will take Mr Potter back and trust him in the care of the most suited person. And, of course, I will be charging Mr Dumbledore with kidnapping, at least." The lawyer stopped, seemingly breathing for the first time since he started talking. "Questions, Mr Black?". Sirius had a lot to ask and the only question Ward could not answer was if the Longbottoms were expected to make a full recovery and if so, how long would it take?
Ward had only a few questions and told so to his client, his hair turned grey. " I will be blunt Mr Black. Gringotts does not care if you're guilty or not and even less about the result of this trial. But they cannot close your account if you're not legally condemned and it will cost them more money to keep it open that is contained in your vault. But they know quite well that I don't lose a trial. So... Were you the Secret Keeper of James and Lily Potter?" Sirius looked at him, a bit shell-shocked by the question before anger took over "No! It was Peter! That blasted rat! Setting me up by cutting his own finger before turning into the rat he is!" He loosed himself in a fit of rage, suddenly standing up and tearing on his clothes, revealing a bare left arm. "I'm not a bloody Death Eater and I would never do anything to harm James and Lily and little Harry...". He looked in the blue eyes of his lawyer, who was patiently waiting for him to calm down. " Sorry, Mr Ward. It's just... I don't get how so many people could think so poorly of me... ". " Your reaction is totally understandable, Mr Black. Though I will ask you to stay dressed while in court. Would you mind trusting me with memories of that day? So that I can use it as proof and build my case on that?"
Later that day, in the office Gringotts had put at his disposal, Llewellyn was lost in his thoughts. He had already felt disgust on his life, and once even for a client. He had felt disdain for everything British while studying the laws of the land and learning how they dealt with the aftermath of the war. What happened in the memories trusted to him by Sirius Black, though, had left him to an unbearable sadness and a craving for a few dozens of shots of vodka, at least - just what he would require to pass out. But as time went on, he was surged by a will: the will to free this man and having him caring for his precious godson. Other muggleborns - though he was raised with wizards, his grandma being a squib - made a joke of him being as stubborn and driven as Stalin. And equally frightening. He wrote a letter to Remus Lupin, hoping the man would respond to this one and accept to meet him. He knew the man was a werewolf and that he was probably hurt it caused his friends to distrust him during the war, but a quality required for every good lawyer and trained in him by years interacting with his metamorphomagus-full family on the Russian side, was body-reading. And from what he saw in the memories, Lupin was a gentle and reasonable man, who would be relieved to know that his best friend didn't kill the other two - not that he did not try for the rat. Also, he would make an excellent witness if the court reacted as he expected. He didn't care to stop the dark chuckle, soon turning in an evil laugh. In the office next to his, Gringotts' Director couldn't repress a grin as he watch Lucius Malfoy shuddered before him.
The next morning, Llewellyn dressed to impress. He bore an Acromantula web grey shirt, partly covered by a dark lethifold vest, with black trousers. Dragonhide boots and gloves, a blood-red cloak and goblin-silver jewellery - a broach and cufflinks - completed his clothes. What would really be impressive though would be the ice-cold blue eyes and white hair he took from a picture of Grindelwald. He had an appointment with the DMLE today and was planning on making a grand entrance for the British. The fact that they weren't informed of this appointment was definitely not something who would make a smile play on his lips, of course. He put the vials of memories in the designed compartment of his attaché-case and took the floo toward the ministry of magic.
The Atrium of the ministry was brimming with activities but he didn't care to look around. He walked to the reception desk in great, confident strides and spoke before the witch in duty could interrogate him. "Llewellyn Ward, attorney-at-law for Delacour, Molohov & Ward.", he informed while putting his card on the desk in a cold voice. " I'm here to see Mr Bartemius Crouch Senior, regarding a case." The witch was taken aback and stuttered "Do you have an appointment?". The young attorney crushed the pity he started to feel in favour of the poor girl, instead putting on his best predatory smile. "It is my duty as an attorney, as state article 5, Alinea c, paragraph 8 of the Code of Conduct of British Attorneys that I swore to observe two years ago, that I shall bring to the DMLE every memory-proof in favour of my client to be checked by a sworn-in clerk and put under a locked stasis charm by that same clerk... Now, I understand that the DMLE have no one working at this post for the moment, otherwise, I would have of course took an appointment with that clerk." The witch was at a loss of word and, eyes-wide wrote something on a piece of parchment who transfigured itself as a badge. She was going to give it to him when he reached out with his wand so to put it on the magical scales. The receptionist heavily blushed and, as the propriety of his wand appeared on parchment, muttered them under her breath "Aspen wood, white river monster spine core, 12 inches, flexible... It's quite an original wand, Mr Ward... ". For an answer, the witch only obtained a raised eyebrow and she returned the wand and the badge. " The DMLE is on the second level, sir." He nodded and took off, badge stick to his vest. The badge read "Attorney Ward, administrative and legal inquiries addressed to the DMLE, visitor" and managed to attract a number of odd stares from the ministry employees who managed to read it. They were quickly refrained from asking questions by the icy demeanour of said attorney.
The DMLE was a sort of great hall with a number of desk placed seemingly at random covered in files, carefully enclosed dark artefacts and of course diverse objects and amulets designed to warn and shield their users of a number of danger. Llewellyn hid his smirk while wandlessly throwing a charm who would cause such objects to go on and off on his passage. A little trick but useful to throw the opposition off balance. Of course, he was almost immediately stopped by an Auror. One with a number of scars on his face. He remembered from the papers that it was Alastor Moody, a fervent, paranoid opponent to anything dark. Once again, he refrained a smirk, only levelling him with cold eyes. Some of his friends were Aurors and they had stated a lot that their British counterparts were the shame of the profession. From what he had seen in his files and during his studies, the blame was more on the legal and judiciary system than on the men themselves. That knowledge didn't stop him from showing arrogance though.
"I wish to meet Mr Crouch regarding the case of Sirius Black." Silence fell upon the hall like an iron curtain and he was amused to see disgust and hatred boil in the single eye of the Auror facing him. "So you're the one defending that traitor scum! No wonder you set our detectors on." His voice really was filled with disgust mused Llewellyn. "Maybe we should have a little talk, you and me, hmm?" The auror was definitely too close for the taste of the young lawyer facing him and clearly drinking his coffee Irish. He drew a notepad from the pocket of his shirt and raised an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of wands pointed at him from every direction. He jotted down a few things on his notepad and smiled. "Must I remind you that, as a Russian-American citizen, I am protected by the Treaty of Moscow, 1887, and the Treaty of New-York, 1936? And, of course, as a sworn-in attorney, by British law? Please, do hex me. It would be quite a pleasure to remind everyone in this room the power of uncorrupted law and to ruin your lives and your ministry while I'm at it." His unpleasant, sadistic even, smirk and his cold arrogance was not what the Aurors were expecting. The quotation of international treaties neither, considering. "What did you write?" barked Moody. Again, raise of an eyebrow. "Why, only a few notes, just in case my client wish to charge you for slander." he was answered in a pleasant tone, who grew colder following. "And definitely some for the report I will present to the Justice Department of the ICW. Don't worry though... I am used to threats and it will not be the biggest point of my report. The numerous violations of inalienable rights recognized in the Statement of Magical Beings' Rights which Britain signed in 1867 and again in 1943 following the addition of the nicknamed "werewolf clause", even if the paragraphs in question include vampires, half-giant and, quite frankly, a number of hybrids I never thought were possible before reading it... That will be the biggest point, I think. May I see Mr Crouch now?"
The voice who answered, coming from behind him, was strained by fatigue and stress. "Come into my office, Mr Ward and please excuse my men for their... caution. We had a few rough years." Llewellyn turned slowly. The man who spoke was small with hair already turning to grey and, from his posture, could certainly be a fierce enemy on a battleground despite the evident fatigue. He nodded. "Perfectly understandable, but not excusable sir. I maybe be used to be threatened in regard to my profession, it is not something I will accept when those threats are unjustified while I am under the protection of the laws I swore to both serve and observe." Crouch only nodded, his eyes saddened, and took to his office, one of the four who were closed, at the end of the hall. "Return to work, men." While he was following the Head of the DMLE, Llewellyn could feel the glare from Alastor Moody and see the rest of the Aurors look at their devices suspiciously, as if they have felt the things bite them but didn't have any proof.
The office, while spacious, was spartan in matters of decorations, with only a few sleeping portraits and a wedding picture who obviously represented the Crouches. They both sat and Crouch immediately summoned a house-elf and asked for tea with some scones. Llewellyn had put his attaché-case next to his seat and waited silently. "I wished to thank you for reporting the lack of trial and investigation regarding Sirius. We no more are in wartime, as you pointed, and as such he does deserve a trial even though I'm not sure of why you took interest in this. I will not lie, I asked a few questions about you: a muggle father partner in a wizarding law firm, a muggle mother with a family connection via a squib to the director of Durmstrang Institute and yourself who, two years after having graduated, had achieve the feat to obtain licence to exercise in numerous countries, including mine... All of that is unheard of in Britain, though I came to understand that the muggles politics in eastern Europe had led to a number of arrangements concerning the security of muggleborns' family." He took a pause, sipping his tea, his eyes becoming more piercing. "How come did you take the case of young Mr Black?". Llewellyn smiled, adding a bit of lemon and two sugars in his own cup before whirling it with a spoon. " Client confidentiality sir. Answering you would go against my contract. But regarding Mr Black... I wish to introduce memories as proof. To do so, they need to be check by a sworn-in clerk to assure they have not been tampered with and put under a locked stasis charm. I would have gone through the proper channels if there was a sworn-in clerk but I discovered that the last one died at the beginning of the war and have not been yet replaced?". Again, Crouch eyes seemed to be haunted. "Yes... It has posed a number of problems regarding the last trials, but it seems no one wish to take the post...".
Llewellyn took a sip, while he let his eyes slowly turn to a warm green. " Well... There is a precedent, in which case the head of the DMLE took the oath...". He paused, letting the idea sink in and added "Of course, you would not be able to sit as judge and would have to let the seat to someone else. Regarding the precedent, who took place in 1797 in the case of Malfoy vs Weasley, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot took the role for the trial..." They drank in silence for a moment, Llewellyn helping himself to a few scones. Crouch broke it with a simple statement. "You're a metamorphomagus." "I am". " So... Everything outside was a show, I guess. Why did you reveal it?". The voice of the older wizard was full of distrust and anger. "I change my appearance according to what I want to show to the people around me. And sometimes, I fully admit, to what my wife wants to see." Llewellyn had made his voice as soothing as he could, which was quite a lot since it was part of the intense training his father and his associates had put him under. "Since you will not seat as a judge, there's no need to intimidate you." Crouch eyed him a bit warily before relaxing.
"Fine, I'll take the oath and owl Dumbledore that he is to take my place as judge."
"Hmm... Well, that's where it becomes a bit awkward... He won't be able to.". In less than a breath, the ice blue eyes were back. " I hereby inform you, in my capacity as attorney and per request of the clients I represent in this affair, namely Sirius Black and Gringotts Bank, that we accuse the wizard Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore of kidnapping, identity theft and financial fraud." He drew a heavy file from his case, putting it on the desk. "My clients, as is their lawful right, request the immediate arrest of said Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and the perquisition of his properties as to find more evidence of the charges, retrieve Mr Harry Potter, one-year-old and victim of said charge of kidnapping and the property of said Mr Potter, notably his key vault but not excluding the possibility of other thefts."
Crouch, already pale thanks to week with almost no sleep and a diet of tea and not much else now looked sick and ready to pass out. "You can't be serious?!"
"That would be my client, sir."