22 December 2009
9:00 am
Courtroom 7

Owls arrived for Hannah Bombay and Knox Greyfriar from Mr. Cesswick. 

They've decided.  A decision on the appeal will take place at 9:20 am in Courtroom 7.  Best of luck to you.

Warwick

And then Knox sent one off to Hannah right away.

I'll meet you in the Atrium.  See you then.

K.

---

Knox was already at the Ministry that Tuesday for work but spent the whole morning letting a cup of coffee get cold and make a ring on his desk in his small cluttered office in the Wizengamot Administration wing.  It was unnerving.  A few times one of the presiding Elders would walk by his open door.  No one made eye contact of course.  It wasn't often that one of their own was being heard on the floor like a normal citizen.  But that was how it was. 

He wished he had some idea of what to expect.  But he did know that he couldn't wait.

The clock began to chime nine and he slowly reanimated with a deep breath.  The old wizard stood from his chair and donned his outer cloak.  It was deep brown and had a subtle diamond-shaped texture in the fabric.  Then his old hat.  He checked for his wand and was on his way.

In the Atrium he waited near the fountain after the wand check and looked for his partner in all this.  The Healer Hannah Bombay. 

The nightshift had been long, uncompromising and tough. It had been bursting with incompliant patients, bloody patients and patients about to join Merlin above. This morning Hannah was as usual exhausted, ready for bed and questioning her career as a healer when so many people refused to allow her to help them. She needed this appeal to go her way. She longed to return to the days of solitude working out of a quiet lab with the deceased for company, regular living people fearing a visit to the healer of the silent.

But that life would never be returned to. The ministry no longer wanted to fund their Silent Healer and Hannah Bombay had been forced to return to the loud hospital where she’d been bitten within a few weeks of her return, changing her life forever. But the ministry still wanted to make her life unpleasant, they still wanted control and were going to exert it this morning when they decided if Hannah Bombay and Knox Greyfriar would be cleared of any charges against them.

So the witch was fighting through the bustle of witches and wizards heading to work. She looked tired, ready to collapse, but she never the less pushed her way through the crowd to the front of the queue to have her wand checked. Tininess was definitely an advantage when it came to squeezing through crowds.

Finally Hannah appeared on the other side, looking rather more dishevelled than her usual polished appearance. Her scraped back hair fought to escape the confines of the bun, her black robes covered a blouse that looked beyond the help of scourgify, so often had it been stained, and she was at her honest natural height, the usual heels having been replaced by a pair of flat boots to better facilitate spending the night on your feet and running between patients.

A pair of brown eyes searched the atrium before her for a very noticeable figure. But so many people flooded the large entrance that it was difficult to spot the hairy wizard that had become such a familiar sight. But she spotted him and marched towards him.


“Morning.”

"You worked tonight?" Knox marveled.  The witch looked as if she'd been up all night, and he supposed that was common enough for a St. Mungo's Healer.  "On the eve of our reckoning?"

He smiled crookedly.  "That's no fun."

Knox led the way down into the Ministry, first to the lifts, updating her as he went.  There wasn't much new to share, but he had a little.

"Cesswick's already down.  I tried to get some idea of how this will go.  Had a look at the records of those on the quorum.  Knight's right down the middle on most things, but strict on werewolves.  Not good for us," he said.  "But Hiddleston, who I know, could have voted in our favor, so that's one.  Even in my best estimation it'll close."

He'd wished he could have had something for them both to expect, one way or another.  He wasn't looking forward to the shock of finding out.  And, Knox had found that he wasn't able to be honest with himself what he thought was actually going to happen.  Was he anticipating the worst so that he could be happily surprised at a better outcome? He didn't feel nearly enough dread to actually believe they were doomed.  He just had to know for sure so he could respond properly, he supposed.

Ding. 'Level Ten.  Wizengamot Courtrooms.

"Are you ready?"

“Not everyone can sit behind a desk at comfortable hours.” Hannah sniped before frowning. That wouldn’t help. As they began to walk towards the elevator, she decided to apologise. In her own way. “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep last night.” She added instead, her voice softer as she gave Knox a mildly apologetic look. Sniping at him, like she seemed to enjoy doing, would get them nowhere. As Bombay was slowly realising more and more, they were in this together. He wasn’t an enemy. He was a very loose definition of a friend in reality.

In the lift Knox informed his companion of the situation and the further down they went into the ministry, the more Hannah’s nerves increased. She craved the verdict to go their way, for this nightmare to start ebbing away into the distance, but the sensible minded witch was very aware that it wasn’t likely. As Knox had stated, Knight was against werewolves. Which meant that the Chief of the Wizengamot was against them.

Level Ten. The lift drew to a stop, the doors opening and Knox questioned Bombay. She glanced up at him, shaking her head. She was anything but.

“I’m not sure I even want to know.” The healer spoke quietly, stepping out of the lift and walking beside the taller wizard towards the courtroom they were due in. “Can we not just fail to attend and get breakfast instead?” She offered a weak smile to Greyfriar. For a healer completely lacking in humour, this was quite a strange comment.

The lift came to a stop and Knox followed Hannah out into the black stone walls of the Level 10 corridors.  They were an imposing place, some of the oldest chambers of the Ministry of Magic.  Knox could just never feel at ease here, even though for the most part, this was where he had sway.  Not today, of course.  Not lately. 

"Don't tempt me," he muttered sympathetically, thankful and surprised inside at that kind of suggestion from the sharp-clawed healer.  He could go for fried potatoes covered in spices and onions right about now, alongside a giant mug of black coffee and half a blood-red orange from Pomegran's fruit stand in Diagon... "After," he counter-suggested.  "If we feel up to it." 

In a flash, he had a quick phrophetic vision of a favorable verdict and the two of them whisking off to his cottage to have a sun-light hot breakfast, laughing and worry-free.  It was shattered in a blink.  Cesswick was rushing over.

"Good, you're both here," he said trying to remain as neutral as possible.  "This will be quick.  All's to be done is initiate the session and read the verdict.  It'll adjourn directly following.  If..."

Cesswick stopped for a second, looking sad.  "Whatever happens, I hope you know I've done my best.  This has never been a sure bet.  If... if the appeal is turned down, we're done.  This is it."

He smiled then, perhaps realizing he was being quite a downer.  But he had to be realistic.  This had been a longshot from the start and he'd rather prepare himself for disappointment than to get his hopes up.  Get their hopes up.

Knox nodded and put a hand on their lawyer's shoulder.  "Thank you.  I know.  You've been excellent."

“If they make the right decision, you mean.” Hannah quietly corrected Knox as the lawyer rushed over the join the couple. She was certainly not going to feel up to socialising and acting normal if the appeal was denied. Hannah knew the denial would change nothing regarding how things stood at present in society and her gringott’s account balance, but it would crush that last bit of hope she had that things could change. She wasn’t sure which direction she could go in there. There would be no other options.

And this sentiment was confirmed by Master Cesswick’s words “ If... if the appeal is turned down, we're done.  This is it."

Greyfriar thanked the lawyer and Hannah nervously crossed her arms over her chest. Cesswick certainly hadn’t inspired hope in her with his words before they entered the courtroom.

Then the witch had a chilling thought as she regarded Cesswick. He didn’t look all too confident.

“So you mean…when the appeal is turned down, don’t you?” she quietly ventured, forcing herself to accept this obvious probability. “You tried.” A shrug was offered before Hannah started walking towards the courtroom door.

“Let’s get this over with.” She gestured them to follow her and pulled the courtroom door open herself and stepped inside, not willing to wait for the call to enter. What difference was it going to make?

"Ahh...."  Cesswick, as much as a beast he could be in the courtroom didn't quite know what to say to Healer Bombay when she emphasized 'when'.  He'd really wanted to be nuetral, or hopeful even.  But he had a sense about these things, and he wasn't getting the good vibes he usually did when things were going his way.  But perhaps it was the uncertainty of this one.  He'd looked, much like Greyfriar had, and found nothing to ease or support his worry.

Knox had been ready to add some wise words to the moments before they stepped over the threshold, but Hannah was done waiting and both Cesswick and Greyfriar had to hop a step or two to keep up and not appear as though they'd been startled. 

It was the same room as before, with the same table and the same quorum of Elders just finding their seats.  But it was heavy in here and none of the Elders would meet Knox's gaze. 

Knox stood at his place at the table while Cesswick arranged the few papers he needed.

"Your honors.  Warwick Cesswick, counsel for Hannah Bombay and Knox Greyfriar in the matter of the appeal of the convictions for werewolf misconduct.  Seeking your answer, your honors."

The Wizengamot members who had been chatting quietly amongst themselves all silenced and scowled down to see Hannah Bombay step quietly into the room not having awaited their call. Hannah didn’t worry too much about their reactions to her disrespect, it wasn’t going to change a verdict she was expecting, anticipating, fearing.

Behind her Knox and Cesswick followed her into the centre of the room behind a large table where they all stood. Hannah watched as the lawyer fiddled with the papers. He didn’t look hopeful, his expression was flat, his eyes unable to reassure her. Hannah knew was was coming. Surely Greyfriar did as well.

Bombay’s heart began to beat quickly against her chest as the lawyer finally looked up and addressed the court. Calmly, her cold hand reached out, seeking Knox’s. She clasped it and gave it a squeeze. This was one of those moments the witch needed human contact to get through.  She needed to know she wasn’t in this alone.

Knox flinched at the unexpected touch and looked down.  Hannah Bombay's small, slender hand was wrapped around his.  His first instinct was that something was wrong and in the startled seconds he looked behind them.  Her touch must indicate some secret warning or ... he looked at Hannah.  She was looking down and her profile looked suddenly lined and worried. 

She wasn't warning him.  She was holding his hand.  The old wizard felt a sudden sense of loneliness and he realized how little contact he had in his life and how much all of this had been wearing him down.  His shoulders relaxed and he let his gaze drop, too.  His big hand adjusted in her grip so that the touch was mutual.  He gave her a small squeeze back.  He needed her here, he realized.  He didn't want to face this on his own, no matter how blustering and professorial he was.

Knox inhaled and let his breath out slowly.  They'd come a long way together.

The two defendants entered, and for a long moment there was a familiar shuffle and bustle of several people trying to be quiet all at once. With the echo in the Wizengamot’s courtroom, this was rather pointless.

While this particularly case had weighed heavily on Tarron – it was not often they had one of their own members up before them, after all – he was glad to finally have it out of the way, swept under the rug. But - if only it would be that easy. Tarron knew full well they’d be cleaning up after this mess for some time, even if it was in theory decided here and now. Such cases had a way of riling people up, no matter the verdict. They’d argued long enough about this one, in his mind.

At least this was a case in which the judgment his court pronounced was one with which he agreed. He sat back in his bench as the lawyer spoke, the room still filled with the not-so-quiet sounds of shuffling as the last of the Elders found their way to their seats.

“Good day, Mister Cesswick,” Tarron said, deep voice echoing through the chamber with a slight note of resignation. “Master Greyfriar. Healer Bombay.” He didn’t emphasize Healer, though a darker part of his soul was tempted to. With the way she’d walked in, the woman was in fine spirits – as fine spirits as she’d been the first time she’d come in here.

Just what he needed.

“The Wizengamot has considered your appeal at some length,” he said, though some length was a term one could accurately apply to everything they discussed, even if they all agreed. The bloody court could have spent three years deciding where to order lunch from; it didn’t mean their decision was the best one.

“And, after that due consideration, it is the decision of this court that the charges against you be upheld.” He gave this a moment to sink in, hands folded in front of him on his wooden desk.

From on one of the further back benches, a safe distance from Tarron as Head of the Wizengamot, Edwin Glass sat contemplating the two stood in the dock. One was a fellow wizengamot elder, and had suffered a broken leg when the whole house had collapsed. It had been a merry mess, and much as he disliked the fact that Knox had gone on the duty so late in the day on a full moon, and taken with him the healer that was also afflicted, but they were there to carry out a duty.

It had been a bloody mess to clear up too, what with a body in there too, somewhere. He and MLE had been at odds over it all, and as much as he enjoyed a bit of chaos, he preferred it when Accidents and Catastrophes were not yelped at for arriving to deal with a mess, which had become a crime scene.

It wasn't very popular at all for there to be a werewolf in the wizengamot or in St Mungo's treating patients. He didn't doubt Bombay's prowess at healing, nor Greyfriar's judgement in court, but they couldn't be seen to be getting off lightly. They were not 'looking after ones own'. The public defiance of the move with the WCU in the time that followed - the press reporting Greyfriar as being disappointed at colleagues had ruffled many feathers amongst the wizengamot.

“The Wizengamot has considered your appeal at some length, and, after that due consideration, it is the decision of this court that the charges against you be upheld.”

Edwin leaned ever so slightly forward, his eyes keenly fixed on the two in the dock. This would not be what they were hoping for. A continuation of the fine and probation. For their defiance and appeal, for bringing it all back up, perhaps they should have increased it, but appeals were not a form of re sentencing other than when it became more lenient.

It came quickly, like the humane removal of a sticky bandage, shockingly fast and leaving a feeling of tingling and then numbness.  A growling sigh escaped him and he dropped Hannah's hand to wipe his face and beard one time with his hands before looking up at the court with a sad disappointment.

There were friends there.  There were colleagues.  And perhaps enemies as well.  He was new to the court.  Young.  A werewolf.  Nothing about his standing among his peers was at all simple.  He had wondered if they'd rule against them in an attempt to preserve the appearance of not being biased, if Knox had been sacrificed for the Wizengamot's reputation.  It was a dark doubt to have about the body he was sworn to, but a doubt he felt just the same.

Perhaps it was easier than considering they'd followed the law to the letter and spirit and simply found their case wanting.

Cesswick read out his part.  A boilerplate expression of gratitude and acceptance of the verdict, an acknowledgement of the court's authority and thankfulness for the reconsideration.  But Knox didn't hear any of it.  He stood rooted on the spot until the gavel rang out twice, ending the hearing officially.

At the address Hannah found herself finally looking up to the face of the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. He was a wizard that obviously had no concept of compassion or consideration for the real right and wrong. He looked so stern, as if he didn’t want to be there. Neither did Hannah nor the companion whose hand she was holding in a most uncharacteristic move. Yet she needed his support there. She’d realised how truly alone she actually was and Knox was the only wizard in a similar position to her. They’d been through it all together and despite her regular comments to the contrary, Hannah trusted and needed him.

“And, after that due consideration, it is the decision of this court that the charges against you be upheld.”

The verdict was spoken plainly, clearly, quickly. For a moment the witch didn’t react. It felt as if she’d taken a stunning spell to the abdomen, rendering her paralysed and bringing about a nauseating feeling within the stomach.

Knox’s hand pulled away and immediately Hannah felt isolated once more. Part of her wanted to say something but last time she’d done that in response to a verdict Greyfriar had dragged her from the courtroom. But this time she needed to get out of the room herself. Before the emotions got the better of her in front of a courtroom of prejudice bullies.

“I hope the guilt from your prejudice prevents you from sleeping ever again. I curse you, Knight.” The witch practically spat the words out before she stepped away from the table and left the courtroom quickly, her legs carrying her through the door as the heaviness of the appeal loss weight upon her shoulders. Her breathing increased and once outside of the courtroom she slumped against the wall, tears welling in her eyes. Hannah had been convinced she’d known the verdict but it had still come as a surprise, hitting her hard. Perhaps that was the tiredness and stress. She didn’t show emotions!

Ignatius sat on the front bench that gave him a clear view of both the appellants and the chief of the Wizengamot.  He made a point to be able to see the most important players in the room without being obvious about looking, which gave him an excellent view of Greyfriar and Bombay as the final decision was announced. 

A decision he agreed with, despite his opposition to the original verdict.   The Wizengamot could not be seen to show favoritism to one of its own so soon after handing a verdict down.  Even if the verdict had been wrong.  And despite his unhappiness with this whole affair, the older man could not help but smile at Bombay's outburst.  As long as they were not directed at him, Ignatius did tend to enjoy outbursts in the court.  He'd have to look up the healer's information later, it'd been a while since he'd made a donation to St. Mungo's, and he was going to miss the New Year's Eve benefit since it was his turn to be a the manor for his grandson's transformation.

Hannah stormed out as Hannah did and Knox felt a great weariness.  He'd hoped they could leave together, but he stood there a moment at his table.  Cesswick had really no paperwork to gather this time, but didn't seem like wanted to linger.  He waited at Knox's flank.

Knox looked up with a long, probing stare.  Up at Gabrielle Murray.  At Ignatius Prewett.  Edwin.  Knight.  At the others.  He wondered what they must be thinking, who'd dominated the deliberations, and what they thought of him now.  A failed appellant? A disgraced werewolf? A young Elder who didn't know his place?  Things had been tense before; would that change for the better or worse?

One last look at them all before he turned and left.  He needed to find Hannah right away so he could cease feeling so betrayed. 

She was in the black marble corridor, crying.  Immediately, Knox's heart sank and his own sturdy, bombastic walls began to disintegrate.  Seeing her like that - he never had before.  Hannah was always angry, not defeated, not sad.  He struggled not to see her as someone he ought to protect, but at the same time, he'd been wanting her anger to bolster him up.  He didn't realize that before this moment, her wrath had been a driving force behind this whole effort.  She never doubted herself and never forgave those who'd hurt them.  She looked so small now, and Knox felt so bare.

Cesswick muttered his farewell, and made some indication he'd be in touch, but Knox didn't care. 

Tears in his own eyes, he forgot Hannah's spines and reached out of her, wrapping his arms around her small shoulders.  He laid his cheek on her head and shut his eyes.