His eyes widened, finally looking as nervous as she knew he would be. "And how
long do you need it?"
Mia smiled innocently. "As long as it takes."
January 18th, 1999The walls of the large courtroom were made of dark stone, and the torches that
gave light to the room made it feel as though the government of Wizarding Britain was set
back centuries—which, according to many of their practices and laws, they were.
The members of the Wizengamot had long since abandoned the official dress code
for more casual—though still proper—dress robes. Those who stuck to the old ways wore
the official uniform and sat bunched together to show the animosity between the groups.
Dressed in plum robes with a silver embroidered "W" on the front were Cornelius
Fudge, Dolores Umbridge, and a scattering of pureblood elitists—most of whom held the
family seats of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. William Burke sat between Damocles Belby and
Marcus Flint Sr, all behind Peneus Parkinson and Horace Slughorn. Mia knew that
Slughorn very likely wore the official robes because he thought the colour plum brought
out his eyes. Sitting among the families, but out of uniform, were Theodore Nott, Tiberius
Ogden, Elora Zabini, and Cygnus Bulstrode.
The opposite bank of seats was much more colourful, a fact that seemed to offend
their tradition-bound opponents. Elphias Doge sat conversing with Amos Diggory and
Adrian Abbot as though they were all old friends. Aubrey Fawley was catching up with
Augusta Longbottom and Ernest Macmillan Sr, while Bill Weasley—who had accepted the
Weasley seat on behalf of Arthur—was shaking hands with Garrick Ollivander and helping
the elderly wizard into his own family seat.
A small group of citizens were allowed in to view the open session, as was protocol,
and that was how Mia, Harry, Sirius, and Remus found themselves facing the Wizengamot
that early morning.
When the large doors to the left opened, and Kingsley walked in, Mia smiled at him.