Yet another Monty Python x Harry Potter crossover. Also, RIP Terry Jones. You've gone on to join Graham Chapman in Castle Aaaaagh.

A Python Saves the Day

Hermione watched on in silent fury as Umbridge viciously persecuted the poor muggleborn woman seated in the accused's chair in the courtroom.

Only Harry's presence behind her, hidden beneath his invisibility cloak, reminded her that she needed to remain incognito. She wished there was something she could do to save the innocent soul being so unjustly condemned, but how could she persuade these backwards, inbred morons that the muggleborn woman was, in fact, a real witch?

That's when it came to her. As studious as she had always been as a child, Hermione would admit to a fondness of occasionally goofing off with her father to watch certain shows and movies on the telly.

It would be a gamble to use it here, but what did these cretinous bigots know about muggle programming?

"Dolores?" Hermione spoke up in her most officious tone of voice. "Might I interject?"

"What?" Umbridge snapped at being distracted from her vitriolic tirade. "Oh, Mafalda, dear, yes, what is it?"

"I do believe, in this situation, we should draw on the wisdom of the lessons taught to our ancestors hundreds of years ago in order to render a sound judgement."

The rest of the court was watching her intently, now, and Hermione took strength from her years of experience being the class know-it-all to inspire the spiel she was about to recite as if it actually made any sense whatsoever.

"There are, as I understand it, tried and true methods of telling if someone is a witch," she said.

"Are there?" one of the Wizengamot members asked, joined in by a chorus of murmurs from his colleagues. "What are they? Tell us!"

"Do they hurt?" another wizard added.

"Tell me," Hermione said, drawing herself up in the most pompous manner she could. "What was it that muggles did to witches they captured back in the Dark Ages?"

"Burn them!" another Wizengamot members shouted, leading to the rest of the chamber echoing the words.

"And what do muggles burn apart from witches?"

"More witches!" said yet another Wizengamot member, earning him a dope-slap from the witch next to him.

"…Wood?" guessed another.

"So, why do we witches burn?"

There was much head-scratching and nervous fidgeting from everyone as each member of the court didn't want to get the answer wrong and be regarded as an idiot. Hermione caught the eye of Mrs. Cattermole, the muggleborn who was on trial, and saw that her expression basically said, 'Are you fucking kidding me?' Nice to see that someone, at least, was getting the joke.

Finally, Corban Yaxley, the prosecuting wizard, spoke up in a quiet, uncertain voice.

"B-Because they're made of-of wood?"

"Good," Hermione said with the air of a teacher applauding a particularly slow student for actually getting an answer right, making Yaxley puff up with pride at being seen as the smart one for a change. "So, how do we tell whether or not Mrs. Cattermole, here, is made of wood?"

"Build a bridge out of 'er?" said another Wizengamot member.

"Ah, but can you not also make bridges out of stone?"

"Oh, yeah…"

"Does wood sink in water?"

"No! No, it floats!" Yaxley spoke up again. "It floats! We could throw her into a pond!"

As the court began to cheer, Hermione called for everyone to settle down.

"What also floats in water?" she said.

"Bread!"

"Apples!"

"Remembralls!"

"Pumpkin juice!"

"Gravy!"

"Chocolate frogs!"

"Mud!"

"Hogwarts! Hogwarts!"

"No, lead cauldrons! Obviously!"

"A duck!" a deep voice boomed from behind Hermione, causing her to jump and turn to see that Harry had removed the cloak.

"Ooooh," the court responded to his answer.

"Exactly," Hermione said, noting the humorous glint in his eyes and feeling as pleased as punch that Harry knew what her joke was to join in with her when she needed it. After all, without the correct answer – which the witches and wizards wouldn't have known – this could have gone on for hours. "So, logically?"

"If she…weighs the same as a duck…she's made of wood," Yaxley reasoned out.

"And, therefore?"

"…A witch!"

The courtroom erupted into raucous cries of 'a witch!' as they scrambled to arrange for a set of giant scales and a duck to be brought into the courtroom. No one noticed Hermione surreptitiously cast a spell on the scales to ensure they would always be even. It wasn't much, but this little adjustment could potentially save countless lives. Even if the charm failed, she mentioned to Umbridge that the accused should have the chance to request to trial by being chucked in the nearest pond – which would obviously see them released once they swam to safety (ironic how a trial which once meant death to innocent and guilty alike when used by muggles now ensured the freedom of the people it was originally used to persecute). Also, with Umbridge distracted by the weighing, Hermione managed to snatch the locket.

As Hermione and Harry prepared to leave, Umbridge stopped them.

"Why, Runcorn," she said to Harry in her simpering voice. "I never knew you were so wise in the ways of science."

"Well, Ma'am, you have to know these things in my line of work, you know," Harry said blithely.