Having one’s arms crossed over one’s chest was said to be a much closed position. It wasn’t open and welcoming or particularly friendly. This was how Hannah was stood outside the court room as she and Knox Greyfriar awaited their official hearing to see if their appeal would be granted. To see if their convictions would finally be taken back on the ground they’d been unfair. To see if she would receive compensation for a ruined reputation and a burnt down home.

Hannah wasn’t feeling welcoming or friendly and approachable. She felt nervous and uncomfortable. Last time her and Knox had been stood outside this room was when he’d physically dragged her out after they’d lost the case. This was not happening this time. Hannah was convinced she would hold herself back and focus. Not that she’d need to. It would go well; she needed it to go well.

So with her arms crossed, the witch was pacing back and forth, passing Knox Greyfriar each time. After a while she stopped and glanced at him.

“What if they don’t accept this appeal, Knox? We carry on like this? I don’t know how many shops I can be thrown out of, or howlers I can get before I lose it.” For once, her words when talking to this particularly wizard were not spoken in a harsh tone. Her voice was soft, revealing just how worried she was. How much this situation was truly affecting her sanity. Revealing how young she really was. She truly didn’t want to deal with this forever. Hopefully Knox’s connections could help them.

Hannah had it worse than Knox, he suspected.  He was a Wizengamot Elder, a wizard, a fellow who struck an imposing figure.  He was the former headmaster of Hogwarts.  He'd gotten Howlers.  There was an article about him in the Prophet every full moon.  But there'd been no personal violence, no assaults on his home.  And for the most part, one of his glowering stares was enough to put a stop to any whisperings behind his back.  But not so for Hannah, and she was visibly agitated today.

"You can't worry about that right now," he said, his own arms crossed his chest as well.

The court was already convened inside.  And the lawyers for both sides were inside as well, getting the preliminaries out of the way, procedures that Knox was well aware of, but perhaps Hannah wasn't.  They'd be called in shortly so everything could begin. 

He was probably as nervous as she was, so aware of all the things that could go wrong, the loopholes that could be opened and closed, the enormous subjectivity involved.  He wasn't sure yet exactly which Elders would be present, although he had a good idea.

"It'll depend on who's presiding. I think we can count on a few sympathetic ears, but their hands could be as tied as ours.  The law's clear.  We'll have to prove our actions could not have provoked the outcome."  He shook his head and peered at Hannah gently.

"You've got to stay calm. We both have."

“So,” Hannah began to respond to Knox’s comments. “Our futures depend on who happens to be sat in that courtroom today, how they feel about werewolves and if they’ve had enough coffee to get them through the morning in a pleasant mood?”

Already Hannah wasn’t feeling herself remaining calm. She already resembled a bag of stress and nerves and despite the fact she knew this would not help her in court, she was struggling to control it. On a day to day basis this short and pretty healer was well put together, she was in control of her emotions, professional and very often cold. She avoided people and up until recently, no one had had an issue with that. Witches and wizards had always left her alone to get on with her work, to keep her head stuck in a text book or magical journal. They’d left her to hide at home with Clifford the Boa Constrictor, not bothering anyone, no one bothering her.

Now she’d been through this. She’d reluctantly bonded with another person, going through a scary experience with him, saving his leg and now trying to save their reputations. But currently Hannah was wondering what the point was. Her reputation was already shattered and getting an apology from the court wouldn’t change that. In the eyes of the public she and Knox Greyfriar would continue to be dangerous monsters and this heartless Wizengamot, through all their laws and traditions had left Bombay and Greyfriar to deal with such hatred alone and without help. That was not how a ministry should act towards its citizens.

The great doors of the courtroom swung open and a Clerk stood there in his smart uniform.
“Knox Tremayne Greyfriar and Hannah Elizabeth Bombay. Please enter the courtroom” his voice rang out, echoing throughout the courtroom and the corridor the offenders would stood in. Hannah glanced once more at Greyfriar.

“Calm. We remain calm, professional and they can’t deny us.” The words weren’t to reassure Knox, they were to stop Hannah from fleeing right then. She took a deep, calming breath and stepped through the double doors into the enormous room. Her brown eyed gaze instantly shot to the members, gathered way above them perched on their thrones so they could quite literally look down upon their subjects. No wonder Knox loved this job. He could lord it over the general public from a throne up high, imposing his position upon the vulnerable.

Except now it was these two that were the vulnerable.

It was time.  The doors opened and he took one last look at Hannah, hoping what she said was true.  That if they did everything right they'd be assured a welcome verdict; if they only kept their calm they'd be trusted.

The clerk led them into Courtroom Three.  In the middle of the chamber awaited the table they'd share with their lawyer.  Before them was a convention of twelve plum-robed Wizengamot Elders their caps striking stark shadows across their faces, making it difficult to see who was actually up there.  He thought he saw -

"Be seated!"

Knox complied and set himself down into his seat slowly.  Their lawyer was sitting stock still and stiff as a board next to them, papers laid out in front of them.

"This super-sub-committee to hear the appeal of the convictions of Knox Tremayne Grefyriar and Hannah Elizabeth Bombay can hereby proceed.  The court will now hear from the convicted the grounds they posit for overturn."

Knox sighed and swallowed the lump in his throat.  Their laywer stood and said, "Mr. Greyfriar will present grounds for both convicts himself."

A hand was waved to give permission and Knox Greyfriar stood.  He was an experience public speaker and had never shyed away from offering his opinion, solicited or not.  He had a booming voice and had become a man unafraid of his own convictions.  But this would be one of the rare moments he would rather have stayed quiet if he thought it would have done any good.

"Witches and wizards of the Wizengamot, thank you for your time," he began.  "We intend to prove that Healer Bombay and I were convicted on false grounds, that our illegal transformations were not, in fact, the result of our negligence but rather the inevitable consequences of events entirely out of our control.  We intend to show that both Healer Bombay and I made all appropriate precautions required by law, but that we could not have predicted what we would find when we arrived at the Tilberthwaite land."

He took a deep breath and looked away from the Wizengamot to glance at Hannah before continuing.  "We were victims of circumstance, and then victims of this court.  To turn over the conviction would be the only just course of action.

"Thank you."

Tarron sat in the center of the Wizengamot's stalls, back straight and arms folded on the decorated wooden Chief Warlock's stall before him. The halls used by the Wizengamot and their committees were all rather similar, though this room was dwarfed by the full sized Wizengamot chamber. The tall dark walls and wooden paneling had probably been considered nice at one time; now, with their associations and age, the deep shadows and high stalls made the rooms oppressive and dark.

Especially for those about to be judged. He had to lean forward slightly to comfortably see Hannah, Knox and their lawyer, the defendant's stall having been positioned well below him and the banners on the lip of his stall blocking some of his view. His plum robes shifted as he did so, the sound soft but seemingly loud in the acoustically designed room.

The lawyer and Knox made their opening statements, the both of them clear of tone and certainly convinced of their argument. Tarron himself, so far, needed convincing. His expression remained neutral despite the urge to raise his eyebrows. It was not every day they had to sit in judgement over one of their own; certainly it was less often that they repeatedly did so in attempts to overturn their earlier judgement.

"Master Greyfriar," he said, when the defendants had fallen silent. "It is not often the Wizengamot retracts its judgments, and even rarer that we must sit in court and judge one of our own." His disapproval of this situation - both of this meeting, and of the fact Greyfriar had been brought before them at all, would not have been obvious to most. But to those who knew him, it was there, hidden in slight differences in his usually very controlled tone.

He sat back ever so slightly, gaze falling to the papers before him for the briefest of moments. "We will hear your plea out, Master Greyfriar, and make the appropriate choice. Mister Cesswick, if you would restate the case against Master Greyfriar and Miss Bombay?" He looked down to the lawyer sitting one of the stalls below him, who stood and cleared his throat.

The Warlock was an imposing figure and Knox Greyfriar had known well enough to give the wizard his distance in this last year.  He was potentially as powerful as the Minister of Magic herself, but with far fewer vulnerabilities to his position.  He'd earned his role as Chief Warlock fairly and he'd kept it with his sturdy, unwavering principles.   And none of those thoughts provided Knox with any comfort at all.  He wasn't an easy man to read.

Knox listened in silent deference to Knight and to the proceedings and allowed their lawyer, Sedgewick Cesswick, to comply with the court's request.  Cesswick nodded once to Hannah and then to Knox before standing.  At this point, he had no need to refer to his notes.

"On the 6th of August in 2009, Greyfriar and Bombay were dispatched on Wizengamot business to the Godric's Hollow home of the infirm Aelfric Tilberthwaite, to hear and assess his claims that he had been cursed by hidden inscriptions in the Daily Prophet.  Greyfriar would be acting as Wizengamot Elder, and Bombay as a verified Healing Magics opinion.

"That night would be a full moon, and so the journey was planned for the afternoon.  The Tilberthwaite home, it turned out was inaccessible by Apparition, Portkey or Floo and so the journey was made on foot.

"When Greyfriar and Bombay arrived, they found that Mr. Tilberthwaite had expired and during their attempts to better assess the situation, the house consumed them and they were trapped in the cellar.

"Night fell and the moon rose and Greyfriar and Bombay transformed into werewolves.  In the morning they were collected by agents from the Werewolf Capture Unit who had been sent to find them.

"On the 11th of August, Greyfriar and Bombay were charged and soon after sentenced for breaching the Codes of Werewolf Law that require all registered werewolves to consume Wolfsbane Potion and transform in an approved Safe Location on every full moon.

"They were sentenced to 7 months probation and fined 700 galleons each.

"This sentence was appealed on the 2nd of November and the Wizengamot's sentencing appeal sub-quorum ruled that the probation be stopped short on the grounds that Greyfriar and Bombay did not knowingly breach the laws and have otherwise acted in good faith."

Cesswick paused and nodded.  The groundwork had been laid.

"It is now our position that the conviction itself be overturned and Greyfriar and Bombay's reputation as dutiful, law-abiding citizens be restored."

It all sounded strange being laid out so matter-of-factly.  Knox and Hannah had been living with the reality of it for months now.  The public's scorn over what Knox firmly believed was an unavoidable accident.   It was all he could do but to sit and breath evenly.  The hairs on the back of his neck were on end - he envied those who sat before them in judgement and he feared that Hannah wouldn't be able to hold her tongue.

Hannah had been told quite plainly by Greyfriar not to say anything during the hearing. He was obviously convinced she would lose it like she had previously. He no doubt expected he would have to physically haul her from the court room a second time. The older wizard obviously didn’t realise how she had been suffering from a lack of sleep, stress and fear last time. Now it was December and she’d had months to calm down, to deal with the fall out and to get her head around the situation. Hannah wasn’t an emotional idiot and Greyfriar was obviously too thick and in his own stuck up world where he was above everyone.

Now though, it was the wizengamot members sitting above them, asserting their position in the hierarchy as they glared down at the two convicted werewolves and their lawyer. As Knox spoke, Hannah remained sat in the seat, visibly uncomfortable as she sat stock upright, hands clenched in her lap. Her light brown eyes scanned the people above, a small handful of wizards and witches in official robes, some watching them carefully, the others looking bored and uninterested.

Cesswick spoke, laying out the details as if retelling a dull sotry that didn’t involve anyone they knew. As if describing the uninteresting plight of a couple of strangers. Hannah used to possess that skill. She could treat any patient as if they weren’t a real person with real emotions and feelings. She still tried to, but her own emotions had become more pronounced after being bitten. She felt things more strongly. Now she felt the need to speak strongly.

But Knox had told her to remain silent.

Hannah looked up at the Chief Warlock and pursed her lips in thought. She resisted glancing at Greyfriar before the youngest witch in the room slowly pushed herself up from the chair.

“If I may say something, Sir?”

Hannah's voice immediately set him on edge and he sharply lifted his head.  He'd been deep in near-meditation, trying to remain calm as their lawyer's retelling was stirring up fear and anxiety.  He knew he'd need to appear calm, and Hannah Bombay speaking was decidedly not a part of that potion!

He looked from Bombay's face up to Elder Knight, and back to Hannah.  He wasn't going to argue with her in open court.  And she seemed... calm.  Restrained, even.  Knox's face was set in wary neutrality, and then he sighed as he slowly sat back.

If the Wizengamot would allow it, so would he. 

"Thank you, Mister Cesswick," Tarron said, the thanks automatic - how often did he say it, per day? But he sat in the stall with his hands carefully crossed on the wooden desk before him, lips pressed together in thought. His own judgement on the matter was, he'd admit, a bit shaky. That'd be Aisling's influence, he'd admit - his wife's more modern view of things had made his own traditional one a little less firm. He could only hope he unbalanced her in return. He was still hesitant to overturn the Wizengamot's judgement.

Bombay asked to speak, and Tarron's slight change in stance was echoed in the stalls near him as Elders glanced at each other. The last time Miss Bombay had spoken, she had said things she hopefully regretted; but today she seemed calm. He could only hope this remained the case.

He briefly met Knox's eyes, which did little to reassure him they wouldn't have to calm the witch down in a few minutes - but so be it. Tarron looked down to Cesswick and the scribes around the lawyer, and gave a subtle nod. Papers were quickly shuffled around, the quills re-inked.

"Speak, Miss Bombay," Tarron said, a tad sharply.

“Actually, Sir, it’s Healer Bombay.” The young witch softly responded. “I am a qualified healer and would appreciate being addressed by my title as it was while doing my job and working out of loyalty to the ministry when this unfortunate incident occurred. I am not a criminal, Elder Knight. I am a healer. I spend my time saving lives, not destroying them. Mr Greyfriar and myself were sent on an errand for your office to a location, where had we been a month earlier, no harm would have befallen us, Mr Greyfriar’s leg, or our reputations.

“As it was, I was called for on this specific date at a time which your office deemed acceptable. The ministry knew of our condition at this time. Greyfriar’s situation was certainly no secret and I was fully registered as per the law. Do you not think, Sir that perhaps you should have sent your elders to this specific location before the residing wizard left the land of the living and decomposition claimed his flesh?”

She hadn’t meant to make it sound like she was blaming the Chief of the Wizengamot for their plight but it sure as hell did now. And the witch didn’t really fancy stopping not that she’d started.

“I cannot help but believe, Sir, that we are the innocent victims of the ministry’s lack of urgency in a case you could hardly bother yourselves with.”

Knox Greyfriar made a very quiet sort of garumph as he sat back in his chair trying very hard not to sulk or reveal that he was in agony.  She'd corrected Elder Knight.  And the way she was saying 'sir' sounded like an insult.  He let his eyes slowly close as she went on.  He had a headache now.

Hannah, just stop... he thought.  She was right in many important ways, but totally misrepresenting the mechanisms in her zeal.  Tarron Knight had nothing to do with this.  The scheduling for this routine visit to a home-bound citizen on a low-priority case was well within standard operation.  There was no reason to expect the old man had expired or that his residence was a danger to any who entered.  They wanted to prove accident not negligence.

Very lightly he laid a had on her arm, hoping to stop her from speaking more in the most delicate way possible.  Knox raised his voice to speak, but their man Cesswick beat him to it.

"That is, Elder Knight, we aim to prove at this time that the circumstances were accidental and that my clients are not at fault.  Certainly Healer Bombay's situation is slightly different from Elder Greyfriars as she is not an employee of the Wizengamot but St. Mungo's.  You'll find in the affidavets that her role in the home visit to Mr. Tilberthwaite on the night in question was Consulting Healer, as she's been contracted many times before."

Tarron's only response to Hannah's speech was a careful raise and then crease of his eyebrows. It was a slight, controlled gesture; thoroughly polite, but just enough to show the Chief Warlock's displeasure at her tone.

It would have been a good speech, too, he had to admit. But her accusatory tone did rather undercut any real appeal it had; the Wizengamot had not gathered here to day to hear how a crisis with two grown and consenting adults was entirely their fault, or how he himself was apparently responsible for some clerk not looking at a second sheet of paper.

His gaze flicked to Greyfriar, the look scanning, careful. Greyfriar seemed well aware of hos Bombay's words sounded, which meant they likely weren't cahoots on that stance. Good.

"Thank you, Healer Bombay," he said simply, when she had finished. The lawyer quickly stated the defense's angle, and he looked down at the man as he did so. For someone attempting to establish accident, Healer Bombay certainly was terrible at communicating such.

He looked back to the two of them. "Accident may indeed be established," he said, as the lawyer shuffled papers below him. "However, should the decisions of this council place its employees, or commissioned assistants, in foreseeable danger - it is fully within the rights of those persons to refuse, or question, their task. Unless you can produce proof and witness that you raised concerns with this task before its commencement, then it must be assumed by this court that both parties found the date and time of the assignment acceptable."

His gaze went to the rows of Elders for a moment before focusing on the two wizards in the tiny defense box. "Have you any more statements to make before the Elders discuss your plea?"

It was just as Cesswick and Greyfriar suspected may be the case: Chief Warlock Knight wasn't going to consider Ministry culpability.  There just wasn't any documentation available to prove it if it were true.  Neither he nor Hannah had made any protest because, presumably everyone involved saw little risk in the endeavor.

This was of both bad omens and good - if the responsibility for the risk lie with the werewolves and they made no protest, the accident could be ruled as foreseeable.  But if the responsibility for the risk was found to be evenly shared and universally unforeseeable, then they must find the events as purely accidental with no criminal culpability.  What a horrible tangle.

At Elder Knight's last query, Knox raised a finger and stood.  He scanned the small quorum of fellow Elders gathered to hear them and said, "I thank the court to consider this matter carefully.  Consider who the real victims of this accident are.  Public servants acting in good faith to the Ministry of Magic.  Consider that the Tilberthwaite home had been aggressively enchanted and had fallen into disrepair, that we entered the home in broad daylight, hours from night fall, with thoughts only to ensure Mr Tilberthwaite was well.  Consider that had Healer Bombay and I had any reason to expect what eventually transpired that the task could have waited another day.  Just as the Ministry of Magic couldn't have foreseen it, neither had we."

He paused.  He didn't like to beg. 

"Thank you."

After her speech Hannah sat down once more. She knew a risk had been taken. You didn’t just accuse the chief of the wizengamot of being the cause of your misfortune. Hannah hadn’t meant for it to come across quite as it had. The very situation infuriated her; it made the beast inside her grow with rage and frustration and caused emotions that usually would be quelled by the healer. This wasn’t her. It hadn’t been her using the accusatory tone with Elder Knight. But what non werewolf would believe that? No one who hadn’t felt the same beast within them would know anything of it.

Bombay wished to further contradict and argue Knight’s words but she knew it would not only be the Wizengamot’s wrath she would incur. Greyfriar would also bear down on her with her own hatred and wrath. She didn’t want that. Despite herself, she wanted his support.

Knox spoke his own summing up of kinds and Hannah glanced up to him. Was that it now? Was this them finished until they finally found out the verdict? Or would Knight tell them his verdict now? A flat denial and how could she speak to a Wizengamot Elder in such a manner?  The witch decided to once more rise to her feet and stand before the elders beside Greyfriar. Her hand dropped to her side, brushing against Greyfriar’s own.

“We thank you for considering our case.”

It was then that Cesswick stood and tapped the edges of a slim stack of papers against the desk in a sort of final way, like punctuation at the end of a sentence.  "Yes, well.  The inquiring rest their case, Chief Warlock.  When can we expect a decision?"

Knox knew, and had told Hannah as much beforehand, that they would have to wait.  The quorum gathered would convene, they would possibly break for research, and then re-convene to write a decision and then, finally, Knox and Hannah would be called back to hear what had come of their request.  Could be a few days, could be a week.  But the Chief Warlock was obliged to give then a tentative date. 

Yuletide was nearly upon them and soon little Lucy would be home from Hogwarts and the little cottage he shared with her and Devlin would become much richer.  He'd even decided to decorate this year since it wasn't only himself.  He wanted this over and done with, even if the news wasn't good.  It was too grim a star to hang over his tree, and far too heavy.