Chapter Seven
Orders of the Court

It had been a pleasant day for Ginny Weasley. She hadn't done much, just lolled around the Burrow with her mother, waiting for Harry to return from work. When he had done so, surprisingly early, they'd enjoyed a brisk walk around the fields together, and were ready to enjoy dinner, which was being cooked up by Molly. Ginny sat back in her chair at the dining table, sighing happily.

Things were looking up for her. She hadn't seen or heard anything from Luna, and even though that worried her a little, she knew that it was best if she kept her distance. Things were most likely still going to be tender between them, especially after what she did to Barty's potion. Barty was safely locked away in a medical institute, and even though Harry often complained about how he should have been returned straight back to Azkaban, Ginny didn't care. He was out of her life, and if he was locked away, he was out of Luna's.

They might not be talking at the moment, but Ginny still cared a lot for her friend.

Harry sat down beside her and squeezed her hand, before looking out of the window. "The post is late today," he commented, and Molly made small conversation with him about how Errol hadn't emerged from his sleeping spot in the yard until lunch time. Ginny smiled as she watched her husband chat animatedly with her mother—she knew how much Harry loved being here, surrounded by the bustle of family.

She, on the other hand, had big hopes for moving out. She wanted to settle down now that she and Harry were married. She wanted to decorate a living room together, have a kitchen or a bathroom to themselves—just have some alone time. Alone time was hard to come by, when traffic was often rushing through the Burrow.

Harry had spent a great deal of time attempting to renovate Grimmauld Place in the past several months, and she had even told him that she would be happy to live there, even if it was just temporary until they found somewhere permanent. He told her in apologetic tones, that they couldn't live there, unfortunately. It seemed that the Administration department at the Ministry had become recently aware of another possible heir to the Black family property, and Harry, who wasn't a blood relative, wouldn't be first in line to claim the house.

Ginny's thoughts returned to the present as she focused on a dark speck outside, which was growing larger as it grew closer to the house. A large, handsome owl jumped onto the window ledge a few moments after, clutching a thick envelope in it's beak. A medallion with the Ministry for Magic emblem on it was around the birds neck. Molly automatically reached for the envelope, allowing the owl to immediately fly away from the window. "It's for you, Ginny, dear."

Ginny furrowed her brow as she took the envelope and turned it over in her hands. What could the Ministry want from her? Shrugging, she carefully sliced open the envelope, and slid two pieces of parchment out into her hands.

Dear Mrs. Ginevra Molly Potter,

This is a court order, demanding your presence in front of the Wizengamot. The date will be shown at the end of the letter.

As you are aware, you recently committed the following offence:

Contaminating and replacing a fellow wizard's important medical potion. As you were aware, the Calming Draught prescribed to Mr. Bartemius Crouch Junior was an important factor in his day-to-day life. Upon removing this product and leading him to believe that he was still taking the potion, Mr. Bartemius Crouch Junior went on to suffer a distinct mental breakdown, which has been diagnosed by psychiatric expert Dr. Amir Babar.

It is Dr. Babar's belief that the disruption in his chemical balance was partially what caused the attack on Mr. Rolf Scamander in Diagon Alley.

The Wizengamot will assess whether you should serve a prison sentence for your crime against Mr. Crouch. You can expect that Dr. Babar will lead the Wizengamot, as the nature of the offence is in his profession.

It is suggested, that in the week before your court date, you should find as many people to bear witness for you in court.

Yours sincerely,

Percy Weasley

Personal Assistant to the Minister of Magic.

Ginny dropped the letter to the table, her face paling. Harry raised an eyebrow in her direction. "Ginny? What is it?"

"I..." Ginny was speechless. She had never expected that she would have to attend court for what she did to Barty's potion. In fact, she had almost forgotten about it entirely. It often sprang to mind during moments of guilt, but she thought that she would just always have to suffer in silence for her misgivings. She never in a million years thought that the Ministry would actually do something about it.

Harry grabbed the letter, and she watched as his green eyes scanned left-to-right quickly, absorbing the information. His frown grew more and more prominent as he got further down the letter, and he finally threw it down on the table. "This is ridiculous," he snapped. "They can't give you a Hearing for this."

"Hearing for what?" Molly piped up, sitting down on Ginny's other side. Harry quickly explained the letter to Molly, and she shook her head indignantly. "Arthur!" she yelled out of the open kitchen window, and Arthur Weasley quickly made his way up from the shed at the bottom of the garden. "Why didn't you tell us that Ginny has a Hearing in front of the Wizengamot?" she demanded to know as soon as he walked into the kitchen. She slapped the letter into his chest, and the colour drained from his face as he read through it.

"I...I thought it was just a scare tactic," he admitted. "I'd heard rumours, but no confirmation. I didn't want to mention anything in case I was wrong," he thumbed the bottom of the letter, pointing to Percy's name. "I imagine Percy feels the same way."

"Just wait until I get my hands on that boy!" seethed Molly. "Sending his only sister such a horrid letter!"

"It won't be his fault, Mol," Arthur said, forcing Molly down onto a chair by her shoulders. "Percy sends out most of Kingsley's letters, especially if Kingsley is going to be in the Wizengamot for the Hearing."

"Kingsley?" Molly and Harry both shrieked at the same time. "How could he do this to Ginny?" Harry continued, the rage evident on his features. "He's a member of the Order of the Phoenix. He's supposed to be against Death Eaters."

"This isn't about Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix anymore, Harry," Arthur said quietly. "In the eyes of the law, Barty is a seriously ill individual. His actions have been judged to be caused by insanity, so it's hard for them to see him as a criminal—especially not now that Dr. Babar is involved."

"Dr. Babar," Molly scoffed. "Why does he have the right to lead this case? Ginny had good intentions when she did what she did—she just wanted to help Luna get out of a bad situation. Her actions were made in rage and emotion—doesn't that account for anything?"

"I suppose it depends on what Dr. Babar says in court," Arthur replied meekly. He was looking over at his daughter, who had remained silent during the outburst. "I know it seems like he is siding with a criminal, but Dr. Babar is actually making a lot of progress in the Wizarding World as we know it. He has been spending most of his free time in the Wizengamot, learning the laws and even having a hand in rewriting some of them when it comes down to psychiatric evaluation. He's been hosting Ministry seminars on psychiatry too, to educate the Wizengamot and future witches and wizards who want to be part of the court."

"Well, I see you're well and truly on Barty's side," sneered Molly, looking quite irritated with her husband. She stood up and went to stand behind her daughter, placing her hands on her shoulders protectively. "Don't worry, dear. We'll sort this all out."

Ginny bit her lip and shrugged her mother's hand away, standing up from her seat. She didn't speak or look at anyone in her family, choosing instead to walk out of the kitchen and head upstairs to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She went over to the window and stared out into the distance, squinting at the hills that she knew obscured the Lovegood residence.

She had the urge to write to Luna—to apologise, express her sorrows profoundly, anything. At that moment, all she wanted was her friend.

oOo

When Barty and Luna apparated to the front of the Crouch Manor, they spent a few moments in silence, looking up at the big old house quietly. Luna was quietly observing the topmost room with the large window, when a distinct 'pop!' echoed from behind them. Barty turned to face John Dawlish, who was wearing a grin that didn't quite meet his eyes.

"What do you want?" snapped Barty, standing in front of Luna protectively. He could already see that Dawlish's curious eyes were scanning down the front of Luna's body, trying to detect any hint of her pregnancy.

"I just came to make sure you're getting settled back in alright," Dawlish drawled. "After all, neither of you have been..." he seemed momentarily stuck for words. "Well, involved with society for a while." He paused, waiting for Barty to reply, but he didn't. "Well. Shall we go in and have a cup of tea?"

Barty was about to open his mouth and tell Dawlish to shove it, but he was quietened by Luna, who placed a small hand on his shoulder, smiling up at him. The silent gesture calmed him, and he shot a pursed-lipped glare at Dawlish. "Fine. I suppose we need to discuss this business about you being my WatchWizard." He turned and proceeded to unlock the front door, striding in and kicking of his shoes.

Luna also took off her shoes and hurried through into the living room, but Dawlish stomped through, tracking mud and dust into the carpet. Barty closed his eyes for a moment, trying to force down the urge to scream bloody murder at his 'WatchWizard'.

While Luna began to reacquaint herself with the house, venturing through the kitchen, Barty sat down on the armchair opposite Dawlish, who had slumped down on the couch. When it became evident that Barty wasn't going to offer him the cup of tea that he'd been hoping for, he cleared his throat and began to speak. "So, arrangements...we've been through all the regulations of my post before, but there are some changes this time. The Minister has requested that I provide you with around the clock care. Obviously, this isn't something that we would both easily agree on, so I've come up with a good solution." He pulled two plain blue buttons from his coat pocket, and gave a triumphant nod. "This is your button, this is mine. They act as...well, like a communications device. You just press your button, and it will send a vibration through to mine, and I'll know that you need me to pop round."

Barty was only partially listening to Dawlish waffle on about buttons - he had glanced through the archway into the kitchen and noticed that Luna was hovering near the kitchen table. She was stroking the wood softly, wearing a vacant, knowing smile on her face. Barty couldn't help but grin—he knew she was remembering how they had put that kitchen table to use.

"Barty, are you listening?"

Barty turned his attention back to Dawlish, though reluctantly. "There will be no need for you to 'pop' anywhere," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "Because you are not my WatchWizard."

"Well, I am, Barty," Dawlish leaned back. He had that grin on his face again, and Barty wanted nothing more than to punch him straight in the mouth.

"Don't you remember how much you humiliated me, just a few months ago?" Barty snapped. "How you turned me down when I went to my WatchWizard - the person who is supposed to be giving me dutiful attention and care? Do you remember how after you shunned me that day, I tried to kill myself?" Before Dawlish could reply, Barty whipped up the sleeve of his left arm, exposing several ugly scars, marring the faded Dark Mark. Dawlish remained silent, his mouth hanging open. "I said, you are not my WatchWizard," continued Barty, pulling his sleeve back down. "I'll apply to the Ministry for a change, and until then, I'll just keep seeing Doctor Babar."

Dawlish laughed haughtily. "You can't do that," he told Barty, though his voice wasn't convincing. There was a distinct wobble to the tone. "Babar isn't in the same position as I am. I was personally asked by Kingsley Shacklebolt himself to be your WatchWizard—"

"—Well, you won't mind if I send an owl to the Ministry just to check on that, do you?" interrupted Barty. "Because I can remember the details of my return to society when I left Azkaban, and I'm pretty sure that I had the option to request a change if my WatchWizard and I weren't getting along."

The smug grin on Dawlish's face was wiped immediately, and now it was Barty's turn to grin triumphantly. "Well, there's no need for that."

"Good, so we're understood," Barty said. He stood up, and held his hand out to Dawlish to shake. Dawlish shook it quickly, leaving a lasting, harsh grip on his fingers, and then Barty escorted him to the door.

Just as Barty was about to close the door in his face, Dawlish spun around, suddenly wearing a nasty look on his face. "You know, I only accepted the position of continuing as your WatchWizard because no one else in my department wanted anything to do with you," he sneered cruelly. "Not to mention that the pay rise I would receive for putting up with you was substantial."

"It's a shame you're going to miss out on that, then," Barty quipped, smirking. Dawlish was acting pathetic—like a child—and he had no interest in spending any more time around the man. He was just about to close the door, when a large tawny owl suddenly swooped over the threshold, dropping a package in Barty's arms.

The seal on the envelope had the Ministry emblem, and Dawlish was leaning forward, trying to get a better look at it. When Barty noticed he was poking his overly large nose into his business, he slammed the door in his face, feeling satisfied when he heard the crunch of Dawlish's nose breaking against the glass.

He waited until Dawlish's cursing subsided and he heard the 'pop!' of him disapparating from the premises, before walking back into the living room, turning the envelope over in his hands.

"What's that?" Luna asked. She had returned from her venture around the house, and was perched on the edge of the armchair, smiling at him.

At the sight of her sitting there, back in his house, back in front of him, he had no interest in the Ministry's letter. He threw it onto the armchair and stalked towards Luna, pulling her into his arms. She laughed as he spun her around in the middle of the living room, and it was like music to his ears. He had longed to hold her for so long, to hear her voice, to feel her warmth...

She pulled his head towards her and captured his lips in her mouth, and kissed him heatedly. Barty kissed her back, trying to distil the passion that Luna was clearly alluding—he knew that the excitement would cause a natural bodily reaction in him, and he was too afraid. Those babies in her belly—he was scared that he might hurt them, or hurt her.

He pulled back as Luna pushed her hands up the front of his shirt, taking a long, flustered breath. "What's wrong?" Luna asked him in a breathy voice. It was haggard and needy, and it only filled Barty with even more desire.

"I don't want to hurt you," he murmured, looking away. He suddenly felt embarrassed for acting so...considerate.

Luna pressed her hand to his cheek and turned his face towards her. Her grey eyes were wide; great silver pools that made his heartbeat slow and a general air of calm overcome him. "You could never hurt me," she whispered. "I promise." In between her words, she placed quick, delicate kisses to his lips. She grabbed his hands, forcing him to take hold of her waist, and Barty could suddenly take no more.

His kisses grew dominant and desperate, his hands running up and down her back and buttocks possessively. She grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head, and he started unbuttoning the front of his blouse. He quickly got agitated with the buttons, however, and resorted to tearing the front over, sending the remaining buttons bouncing around the room. Upon noticing the creamy expanse of skin, he leaned forward and attacked her collarbone with kisses, and she moaned his name. "Shall we go upstairs," she suggested, her voice hitching with excitement.

"No," Barty growled, pushing her back onto the couch and looming over her. "This won't take long."

Luna stifled the urge to laugh, as she adjusted herself to get comfortable on the crinkly parchment of the envelope, the one that Barty had carelessly slung aside just moments ago.