Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his friends/enemies.

Judgement II

Dismissing the heartbroken man, the two Emissaries turned towards their next victim.

For long moments the two siblings just looked at Lily, casing the redhead to shift uneasily in her chair. James glared angrily at the two, wrapping a supporting arm around his wife's shoulders, all but daring the Emissaries to do anything to hurt Lily.

Mischief shook her head sadly, how far the once promising youth had fallen. He actually was arrogant enough to go against Magic herself? Their mistress would not stand for that, and Mischief knew that James' fall would be long and hard.

"Lily Potter, of those gathered here for judgement, we found you the one least guilty of crime under the plea made by Drake Malfoy. You honestly thought that the baby taking your son's place was an orphan since you did not take part in either the planning or the execution of the kidnapping of the boy.

"However, that does not excuse your appalling attitude towards the life he has been forced to endure at the hands of your sister and her family. Yes, it was important to keep yourself and your family safe. But that did not give you the right to condemn an innocent child to hell on earth."

"Come now, hell on earth? Melodramatic much?" James asked with a scoffing laugh.

"Your time will come, James Potter. Kindly do not interrupt again, or I will silence you until it is your turn," Mischief said sternly with a disapproving glare.

James huffed but he did fall silent, but only after eyeing Sirius warily. Obviously the man did have some sense of self-preservation.

"I agree with James," Lily said, holding her head up proudly. "I know that there is little love between Petunia and myself, but going so far as to call life with her hell on earth? No that is going too far. I am positive that my sister took good care of the boy she thought was mine," Lily stated firmly.

"You can say that even after the memory you witnessed earlier? Are you that unwilling to admit the truth? Are you so filled with pride that you no longer can bow your neck and admit that you have done wrong?" Mischief asked gently, eyeing the redheaded witch sadly.

Magic had once held such high hopes for this one, and see what had happened to her. How far from her potential she had fallen. Lily had allowed her love for her family to consume her entire being, leaving little of the brilliant and curious child that had once attended Hogwarts.

Furthermore, Lily had allowed her pride in giving birth to the prophecy child to blind her to reality, believing that anything was justified as long as it kept her precious baby safe. No, Magic was most definitely not pleased with Lily Potter nee Evans, and her wake up to reality would be both harsh and cruel.

Lily tossed her head proudly. "I have done nothing wrong. All I did was provide a safe haven for my child, for my family. My son has an important part to fill as the one chosen by the Fates, and I resent that you are judging me, judging us, for doing what was necessary for the greater good.

"Besides, what proof do I have that that 'memory' you showed us was real? How do I know that you didn't doctor the proof? Just to make your 'case' look better for the masses? I know Petunia, and I refuse to believe that she would treat a child that shabbily!"

"Ah, hubris, the deadliest of sins, and the one most difficult to admit to," Mischief said, slanting a glance at her brother. "And although family loyalty is admirable, blind faith and a refusal to accept the truth, is not. But do not worry, Lily Potter, you will have ample opportunity to see for yourself just what kind of person your sister is," Mischief said, giving Lily a decidedly feline grin.

Lily blanched and shrank back in her seat, eyeing the Emissaries nervously, not liking the way the female was looking at her. As if Lily was a tasty morsel the Emissary was just waiting to devour.

"Don't you dare lay a finger on my wife!" James hissed, wrapping his arm more securely around Lily's shoulders.

Mischief arched an eyebrow arrogantly, staring down her nose at James. "Oh, but I will not lay a hand on your precious wife, James Potter. Have no fear. No, Magic has chosen a most suitable punishment for the one you hold so dear." Mischief's smile grew more feral.

"It has been decided that Lily Potter shall endure the same sufferings you forced upon an innocent child. Yes, Lily, you shall serve as your sister's house-elf. Just as Drake was forced to act like the Dursleys' personal slave."

"What?!" Lily cried, aghast, looking at James helplessly, tears springing to her eyes in her distress.

"You will do no such thing!" James shouted, pointing his wand at Mischief, only to have it yanked from his grasp by a very displeased-looking Trouble.

Mischief acted as if there had been no interruptions. "You will appear at the Dursley home each morning in time to cook them breakfast. You will then proceed to do all the chores Petunia assigns for you. You will not be allowed to leave until you have cooked them dinner and finished the cleanup, unless Petunia herself gives you leave to do so. Take heed that she must do so willingly, out of her own free will. In other words, no coercion of any kind," Mischief said smugly.

"But... What about my family?!" Lily spluttered in outrage. "Who will look after my husband and son? They need me!"

"They will just have to learn to do without you for a while, Lily Potter, just as Drake Malfoy was forced to do without his family for fourteen years."

"But... That's not the same thing!" Lily cried angrily, looking like she wanted to hex Mischief to hell and back, only she had enough sense not to lift her wand at the Emissaries.

"Isn't it? Drake was removed from a family who loved him, placed with people who hated and detested him. It is only fair that you shall be taken from your loving family, forced to work for people who hates and detests you, don't you agree? Just be thankful that we will not force you to live with your sister around the clock. That decision can be remedied," Mischief said in warning, causing Lily to snap close her mouth, the words she had been about to launch at the Emissary unvoiced.

"Oh, yes, before I forget, you will not be allowed to use magic while working for your sister. You will do everything the Muggle way, just as young Drake was forced to do," Mischief said, a vicious smile on her face.

"What?! You can't be serious!" Lily exclaimed in a strangled voice, looking as if she was about to faint at any second.

"We can and we will," Mischief said simply. "Be grateful that we have decided to show you mercy-"

"Mercy?!" Lily cried in disbelief.

"Yes, mercy. Nights and weekends will be your own, but the rest of the time you will belong to your sister. During the day you will only be allowed to eat what she gives you. You will not be allowed to use magic in any shape or form to influence your sister or her husband, just as they will not be allowed to physically harm you," Trouble said, a shark like grin on his face. It was obvious that he was taking great pleasure in dishing out Lily's punishment.

"No! There is no way in hell that I am going to be Petunia's servant! I refuse to be her house-elf!" Lily shouted, livid.

"Oh, but you will," Mischief replied coldly. "You never bothered to ensure that the boy you agreed to place with your sister was safe. You never cared enough about the boy taking your son's place to make sure that he was treated fairly by your kin. Therefore you will now get a taste of the life he was forced to live, and your sentence will last the same amount of time that Drake Malfoy was forced to live in that house with those despicable people.

"Be glad that we are feeling generous, or we would have included in your punishment the time the child resided here at Hogwarts. Would have served you right, if you ask me," Mischief said with a sniff, silencing the furious redhead with a wave of her hand.

"Oh yes, one last thing. You better learn to bend that stiff neck of yours, or Magic will find a way to teach you humility," Mischief added, her eyes glowing in anticipation of the punishments awaiting Lily Potter if she didn't swallow her pride and admitted that she had acted wrong towards the Malfoy child.

Dismissing the fuming redhead, Trouble and Mischief turned towards their next victim.

"James Potter, your crimes are far worse than those of your wife. You are the one who kidnapped the boy, almost killing his twin brother and his godfather in the process. Not to mention that you did kill the boys' nanny.

"You have been given proof of the kind of life you doomed the child to, and I can find no sense of remorse in you. Not even the smallest amount." Trouble shook his head tiredly, sad that such a promising wizard had fallen so deeply into hubris.

"Our first impulse was to remover your magic, but upon further investigation, we have come to the conclusion that it would not be enough."

"I'm sorry, but what was I supposed to do? We needed a strong infant, one who could pick up the mantle as the Boy Who Lived while my son were in hiding, training. We needed the people to have hope. It wasn't as if we could pick a near Squib as a stand-in!" James exclaimed, going from sorrowful to indignant.

"You are a proud man, James Potter. Proud of your name, proud of your magic, proud that you are a Gryffindor, proud that you managed to marry the cleverest witch of your time, proud that you are the father of the Boy Who Lived, proud that your son is the protégé of Albus Dumbledore. The list goes on and on, does it not?

"So what kind of punishment would be suitable for you? Like I said, our first impulse was to remove your magic, since you have clearly shown that you are not worthy of such a gift. Our second impulse was to turn you into a wyvern, since they too hold the same pride in themselves that you do."

"What?! You can't do that!" James cried desperately, shuddering at the mere thought of being tuned into a mindless beast. "Please, you can't do this. What of my wife? My son? They need me! I... Please," James begged, nearly in tears from the fear of being taken away from his family, from his life in the wizarding world.

Trouble arched his eyebrows, clearly not impressed by the pleas coming from the senior Potter. "However, that would not teach you anything, now would it?" Trouble drawled, shaking his head as James all but fainted in his relief of escaping such a fate.

"No, after much consideration we came up with a more fitting punishment," Trouble said, chuckling softly as James grew tense once more. Had the foolish mortal honestly thought that he would go unpunished?

"What... what will you do to me?" James asked with a croak, wishing he was anywhere but here. How had things gotten so completely out of control? And what could he do to escape whatever fate the Emissaries had settled on? This was so unfair! He hadn't done anything, for Merlin's sake. All he had attempted to do was keep his family safe. Harry was important. He was the Boy Who Lived, what else could he had done? They needed a substitute, and Drake Malfoy had been just what they needed. Who cared about the devil's spawn? On the contrary, they should all go down on their knees and thank him for taking care of the brat before he could grow up and become another Death Eater. But was anyone thanking him? No, they weren't. Life was so unfair at times! James thought, sitting back in his chair with a pout.

Trouble snorted, having picked up on the mortal's thoughts. All James cared about was himself. He didn't hold an iota of compassion for others, unless they belonged to the small group he considered family, and even then James still put himself and his feelings first above all else. Even his wife and son.

"Your arrogance is all but unparalleled, James Potter, and no one has done anything to knock you down a few pegs. On the contrary, Albus Dumbledore, who was supposed to teach you right from wrong, and show you the errors of your way, did nothing but coddle you, just because you were born a Potter.

"It will be all but impossible for you to change your ways, but we will give you one last chance to redeem yourself. You will be de-aged to your sixteen year old self, you will then be sent to Merlin's School of Magics-"

"No! You can't do that! He will be killed!" Lily cried shrilly, wrapping her arms tightly around her husband, looking as if she would never let him go.

"Lily is correct, James will be killed if you send him to that... school," Albus said, unable to stop himself from sneering as he said school. "Everyone knows that half the student body are killed off before they graduate. Besides, only various Dark Creatures attend Merlin's school these days, James won't stand a chance against them!"

"On the contrary, only the best and the brightest are accepted to Merlin's School of Magics. That so few humans attend is not something to be proud of, Albus Dumbledore. No wonder your world has fallen into such a sad state if you are unable to acknowledge that 'Dark Creatures' as you call them, are human too.

"It is clear that you have forgotten your roots. You were all created as equals by Magic. She was the one to bestow you with her gift of magic, yet you consider yourself better than anyone else just because you are wizards? Perhaps you should all be sent to Merlin's school, maybe then you would learn to tolerate others," Trouble said musingly, losing himself in thought for a moment.

"You can't do this! Albus! Make them stop! James will be killed, and what will happen to me and Harry then?" Lily cried, bursting into tears and hiding her face in her husband's shoulder.

"I can't guarantee that James Potter won't be killed," Trouble said, having some difficulty keeping a straight face. "However, by attending Merlin's school we are giving him a chance to redeem himself. And it is our hope that the teachers and students of Merlin's School of Magics will be able to knock the arrogance out of him. Know this, James Potter, unless you have come to truly regret the things you have done in your life by the time you turn twenty-one, and yes, you will get to keep your memories, your magic will be stripped from you and you will be forced to live out the rest of your life as a non-magical entity."

"No!" Lily wailed in distress, bursting into hysterical sobs.

"Would you prefer that he lives out his life as a wyvern?" Trouble asked solicitously.

Lily's only response was to cry harder.

James was opening and closing his mouth, but no words would form by the stunned man, who was, finally, beginning to realise just how serious his situation was.

Dismissing the two, Trouble and Mischief turned their focus on the last Marauder.

"Peter Pettigrew, unlike Remus and Sirius, your crimes are not ones of neglect. You betrayed James and Lily Potter to your master, Lord Voldemort. If it hadn't been for your actions that night, this entire mess would never have happened.

"But your betrayal does not stop there, does it, Peter?" Mischief asked with a deadly purr. "Oh no, you returned to your master and actively helped resurrect him into a new body, stealing both blood and magic from Drake Malfoy while doing so.

"Because of your actions, Drake Malfoy has been subjected to many different forms of torture, and each and every one of them can be traced back to you!" Mischief growled, starting her audience by how feline she sounded.

"P-p-please, he was too... too p-p-powerful! What was I to do? I couldn't fight him and win! I didn't want to die, is that such a crime? I only did what I had to live! Please, have mercy!" Peter wailed, tears streaming down his face. He would have fallen down onto the floor to growl at the Emissaries feet if it hadn't been for the invisible bonds keeping him tied to his chair.

"Silence! Your pleas do not please us! You have no love for anyone but yourself! Your judgement has been passed. As punishment for the crimes you have committed against Drake Malfoy, your magic will be bound and you will work alongside with Argus Filch as caretaker of Hogwarts for the rest of your life. How long that life will be depends on Magic and whether you manage to appease her with your hard work or not.

"You will be unable to change into your animagus form, and you will be unable to influence the students and the faculty to aid you with their magic. You have much to atone for, Peter Pettigrew, and it will take a lot of hard work to make Magic's heart to soften."

Growing tired of Pettigrew's blubbering pleas, Mischief silenced the little rat turning towards the next one to be judged.

"Tom Riddle, better known as Lord Voldemort, honestly, who came up with those ridiculous monikers You-Know-Who and He Who Must Not Be Named anyway?" Trouble muttered, shaking his head at the wizarding world's stupidity.

Voldemort, who had been having the time of his life, sitting there and listening as the heroes of the Light were being torn to shreds, jumped slightly in surprise as the Emissaries' attention was suddenly focused on him.

"You have caused the wizarding world quite a lot of strife, haven't you? My, my, my, you've been busy over the years, and few of your deeds were good. I admit that not all the blame for how you turned out can be placed on you, but you are responsible for most of your decisions since you reached adulthood."

The Dark Lord couldn't help but preen slightly as his struggles were acknowledge by the Emissary, but before he could turn smug, Voldemort frowned when Trouble began talking about blame and responsibility. How dared this... creature judge him? Didn't they realise who he was? How dare they look down on him for wanting to fulfil his ancestors noble quest of cleansing the magical world of those not worthy of the gift of magic? Shouldn't they be on his side? Especially considering the way they had dealt with Dumbledore's people?

"You claim you want to preserve the wizarding world. You claim that you wish to preserve the Old Ways, and yet you have done nothing to do so. Because of you, many old families have been lost. Because of you and your bloodthirstiness, many innocent people have lost their lives. Your hands reek with blood, and yet you are not satisfied."

"Now see here," Voldemort exclaimed, not about to let that statement go unanswered. "First of all, I am not bloodthirsty! How dare you claim that I am? And for the people I have killed, they were all blood traitors or otherwise unworthy of being part of the wizarding world. All I did was remove those with unclean blood. You should approve of what I did and stand behind me.

"If you honestly are Magic's Emissaries, then you should know that we need to clean our world of all Mudbloods and of all the traitors who would rather mate with Muggles than with wizards and witches," Voldemort said hotly, longing to put the insufferable beings under a swift Crucio. Maybe then the fools would change their tune and start realising that what he was doing was actually right, not to mention for the best of the wizarding world.

Trouble gave Riddle an incredulous look. "You actually dare to put yourself above Magic? You, a mere mortal, actually believes that you know better than the creator of magic?"

"Everyone knows that Muggleborns carry dirty blood," Voldemort retorted hotly, holding his head up proudly. "They are the reason as to why our magic is weaker today than it was a thousand years ago. Unless we remove that taint, there won't be a wizarding world in a few generations time. If you truly speak for Magic, then you already should know this. It is unfortunate that Drake Malfoy was... manhandle by me and my men, but if we had known who he really was, then we would have rescued him and brought him back to his family. Surely you cannot punish me for trying to fulfil my forefather's wishes?" Voldemort asked, giving Trouble a smile that came across more smarmy than benevolent. The Dark Lord obviously had not practised his smiles nearly as much as he had practised his Crucio.

"I had not thought it possible, but your arrogance actually rivals that of James Potter," Trouble muttered with a shake of his head. Raising his voice he continued, "You speak of Salazar Slytherin as if you actually knew what his wishes and goals for the wizarding world were. You have never met the man, and you never even bothered to seek out his portrait, the one he left behind in his secret chamber so that he could converse with his descendants. No, you have no reason to sit there and look smug, Tom Riddle," Trouble said sternly, ignoring the confused look on Voldemort's face as he learned that his ancestor had left his portrait behind. Something that Tom had never learned during his time as a student at Hogwarts.

"Especially considering that your father was a Muggle. You take such pride in your mother's blood line, but you do not seem to realise that if it wasn't for her mating with Tom Riddle, a man with no magic flowing through his veins, then you would share her fate. The fate of being a Squib. Yes, you heard me correctly. Due to the inbreeding the Gaunts subjected themselves too, all in their desperation to keep their blood 'pure', they all but lost that which they cherished the most, their magic.

"Only the very blood that you have spent your entire life cursing made it possible for you to born a wizard. Yes, too much Muggle blood will weaken the blood of wizards, but the same goes for too much of your 'pure' blood as well. If it wasn't for the Muggleborns brining in fresh blood, you would have bred yourself out of existence a long time ago. Let this be a lesson to you all, Magic knows what she is doing, and she does not appreciate having her judgement questioned by mere mortals," Trouble said with a sneer.

"I find it extremely insulting that you wizards think that you know better than out Mistress, and that you believe that it is within your right to decide who should have the power of magic and who shouldn't. Magic is wild, magic is free, magic is a gift to mankind, and it is not up to you to question who Magic bestows her gift to," Mischief added, giving everyone sitting in the Great Hall a stern look.

"But enough of this. We are here to cast judgement on the one calling himself Lord Voldemort," Trouble said, ignoring the fit said Dark Lord was going through. It did not sit well with Voldemort to have all of his beliefs turned on upside down, and he was spluttering in impotent fury, seething with the need to curse something to compensate for the unpleasant news and truths that had been revealed here today. He especially did not appreciate hearing that it was only thanks to his Muggle father that Tom had been born with the gift of magic.

"We thought long and hard to come up with a suitable punishment for you, Tom Riddle, and I believe we have come up with something fitting," Trouble said, his smile a true piece of nastiness.

"First, your soul will be returned to you," Mischief said, giving Voldemort her own smile before chanting softly in an unknown language, causing the self-proclaimed Dark Lord to glow with a golden light.

When the light died down, he was completely transformed. For one thing he was no longer bald, but had a full head of black locks. His nose had returned, as had his lips, his eyes were no longer red but a deep emerald green, and his frame was no longer skeletal but had filled out nicely.

Nodding his head in satisfaction, Trouble gestured towards Riddle's left arm. "You will note that you now are carrying a bracelet. Please not the stones adorning it. Each of those stones represents a day of life. Every time you heal someone, you will gain one day's worth of life. Every time you harm someone, you will lose seven days worth of life. In other words, it will be up to you how long your life is.

"It does not matter if you heal a human or an animal. If the creature is magical or mundane. What matters is whether you heal or harm those you encounter from now on. You strived for immortality, if you work hard you might actually achieve it," Trouble said with a smirk.

Tom Riddle didn't look as if he appreciated the Emissary's sense of humour. On the contrary, he looked as if he was about to have a stroke as he sat there staring at his wrist in shock and horror.

"To give you a chance to ease into your new life, we have given you five days worth of life. What you do with those five days are entirely up to you. Oh yes, before I forget. The harm 

rule applies on anyone you order, bribe, or otherwise cajole to do the cursing for you. You are no longer Lord Voldemort, you are now Tom Riddle. Your Death Eaters have been released from the brand you gave them, and if you attempt to start up your ways as a Dark Lord again, I'd advice you to do a lot of healing first, or your rule might be the shortest one in history," Trouble said, his smirk growing both bigger and smugger.

"That leaves you, Albus Dumbledore," Mischief said calmly, turning her attention on the aged Headmaster. "You claim that what you do is for the greater good, yet, if you tally the results of your sacrifices, you are no better than what Voldemort was. Neither of you care who is hurt as long as you fulfilled your vision of the wizarding world. Neither of you care about your pawns, as long as they do your biddings.

"What is worse is that you, as Headmaster of this school, are supposed to look out for and protect all of your students. Something that you have wilfully neglected ever since you took up position as Headmaster of this school. Do you dare deny it?" Mischief asked sternly, seeing the protest building in the old man's eyes.

"I have done everything within my powers to keep each and every student attending Hogwarts safe," Albus said with great indignation, seething at the nerve of accusing him, him, of not keeping his students safe.

"So you did punish Sirius Black when he almost caused the death of Severus Snape? You did punish Professor Quirrell when he jinxed Drake Malfoy's broom? You did punish said professor when he let a Troll into the school, almost causing the death of Hermione Granger? You did remove the possessed journal that was in Ginevra Weasley's possession in her first year? You did take steps to remove the Dementors stationed around the school before they could rebel and almost have half the school kissed? You did take steps to stop Sirius Black from entering the castle? You did expose the imposter that masqueraded as Mad-Eye Moody? You did take to task Dolores Umbridge when the wards warned you that she had brought a Dark Arts object into the school? You have attempted to minimise the House rivalries plaguing this school? You have taken steps to stop the harassments taking place in the four Houses? Do I need to go on?" Mischief asked, arching a challenging eyebrow at Dumbledore.

"I have performed my duties to the best of my abilities," Albus said stiffly, not about to answer each accusation. As if he had had time or ability to deal with every tiny matter happening within the school. Not to mention that some things needed to happen for the greater good.

"I thought you'd say that," Mischief said with a derisive snort. "Enough of this! Albus Dumbledore, you have been judged and found guilty. Your punishment, I think, will be most fitting.

"For all of your life, you have attempted to better the wizarding world. Sadly, your attempts to do so have been as successful as the attempts made by Voldemort," Mischief said, ignoring the spluttered complaints coming from Dumbledore that he was nothing like that pompous Dark Lord wannabe, thank you very much! Tom was still in too much shock to add his voice in indignation of being compared to Albus Dumbledore.

"Since you have no remorse in your soul for the sufferings you have caused, you have been granted a long, long life. However," Mischief went on, holding up a commanding hand as whispers sprang up around the room. "However, you will only be able to observe the world around you; you will be completely unable to interact with your fellow man.

"You will not be able to speak to anyone, nor write, nor in any other way communicate with others. The only exemptions will be your brother, and the house-elf we will provide for you, and she will only be able to do your shopping for you.

"As punishment for your crimes, you will be forced to watch as the world moves on without your input or your influences. Only when you are truly sorry for your actions will you be able to pass on to the next grand adventure. Or possibly when Magic takes pity on you, whichever comes first," Mischief said, knowing that it was more probable that the world go under than either conditions be fulfilled. Still, strange and impossible things happened every day.

"So Magic has willed it, so it will be!" Trouble and Mischief intoned in chorus.

"There is one or two matters that still need to be dealt with, I fear," a beautiful voice said, sounding like a mild summer breeze. Trouble and Mischief both dropped down onto one knee, bowing deeply.

"All hail Magic, the ruler of Earth's magical powers," the two Emissaries intoned, and as they finished speaking, a woman was standing between them. The female figure was beautiful and ethereal, and her dress was made of white flowers and various green leaves. She was barefoot, and on her head was a crown made of oak leaves. "Please raise, my darlings," Magic said, placing a hand on each of her Emissaries heads.

The two immediately rose and moved so that they flanked Magic, taking up a protective stance.

"I have listened to the events taking place here today, and there are two matters left that need to be addressed. Fawkes! Come before your Mistress!" Magic commanded, and moments later the majestic Phoenix appeared in a burst of flames.

"Fawkes, I am most displeased with you," Magic said, giving the fire bird a stern look. "You are a creature of Light, and it surprises me that you chose to remain with a wizard who clearly left the Light a long time ago. What do you have to say in your defence?"

Fawkes merely hung his head, looking sad and miserable as he trilled a few short notes.

"I see. You allowed love to blind you. While it is commendable that you came to love the wizard you bonded with, it does not excuse you for not leaving him when it became obvious that he no longer walked in the Light. Your presence gave Albus Dumbledore credibility he otherwise would not have, giving him that much more power to harm and hurt the wizarding world.

"Because I am compassionate, I shall allow you to choose your punishment. Ether you will be banished from this world, sent to another dimension where you will live an age alone. Hopefully, this will make you stronger so that you do not fall into the same trap twice. Or, you will die and your magic will be given to babies who are Squibs, boosting their magic, turning them into wizards and witches. Which punishment do you prefer?"

Fawkes tilted his head to the side, and then he trilled a few notes.

"So be it," Magic said sadly, and in the next moment Fawkes was gone. "I hope you are happy now, Albus Dumbledore. Because of you, this world has lost a wonderful being, and it will be that much poorer because of it!"

"Love is the greatest gift anyone of us can receive. I find it reprehensible that you killed an innocent just because he followed his heart," Dumbledore said, giving Magic a disapproving glower.

"Fawkes is not dead. He now resides in a different dimension. He has kin there, and it is my hope that they will be able to help him heal from the harm you have caused him."

"But... You said..." Dumbledore actually stuttered in his shock.

Magic arched an eyebrow as she gave Dumbledore a look. "I am harsh, but I am not cruel. My rule is just and fair. Do you dare questioning me?" she asked haughtily.

Albus gathered himself with some difficulty. He had been presented with shock upon shock, and his mind was reeling with the things that had happened this day. "I question that you judge Fawkes so harshly. He gave me his love and his support. How dare you punish him for that?" he asked, gathering himself up and presenting an air of indignant righteousness.

"I am amazed at you, Albus Dumbledore. You who always preach about doing what is right versus what is easy. Yes, Fawkes loves you, and because of that love, he refrained from taking actions against you when you began to stray from the Light. Fawkes opted to do what was easy, which in this case was doing nothing at all.

"Because of his inactions, he gave you a weight among the Light you would not otherwise have, making it that much easier for you to rule the wizarding world. Remember, Fawkes is a Phoenix, and as such he lives by different rules than you humans do.

"Due to his love for you, his very being became perverted, until he no longer was a pure creature of Light, but something else entirely. I have given him the chance to find his way back to being a Phoenix. I can only hope that time away from you can heal him of the wounds being bond to you have caused him," Magic said, a sad look on her face.

"How dare you insinuate that I have caused harm to Fawkes?! How dare you claim that his love for me has twisted who he is? How dare you-" Dumbledore was so furious he was vibrating in his chair.

"Do be silent wizard," Magic said sternly, shutting the insufferable man up before dismissing him completely by focusing on the last person that needed to be dealt with.

"The other matter that needs to be addressed is you, Madam," Magic said, turning her head a little so that she could stare McGonagall in the eyes.

"Me?!" McGonagall squeaked, shocked that she had done anything that would draw the attention of Magic herself upon her.

"Yes, you. You were given the responsibility to watch over a child, a young boy," Magic said sternly.

"I was?" Minerva echoed dumbly, wondering frantically just what and who Magic was talking about.

"Yes. You agreed to be Harry Potter's godmother. You failed to do your duty. You allowed Albus Dumbledore to talk you out of doing what was right. You opted to do what was easy instead. And when the boy didn't turn out the way you had hoped, you put the blame on the child instead of your own shortcomings.

"Fortunately for you, you will now get the chance to redeem yourself. The true Harry Potter is a proud young man. Too proud. Considering his role models, this is not surprising. I charge you with the task of turning him into a young man society can be proud of. In other words, it is now your duty to turn Harry Potter into an upstanding youth instead of the arrogant prankster he is today. Know that if you fail in changing his behaviour before his eighteenth birthday, the consequences for the two of you will be most painful and unpleasant. You have been warned. I suggest you use the next three years wisely," Magic said, giving McGonagall a disapproving glare before fading from view, ignoring the indignant protests coming from both Minerva and Harry.

"Magic has spoken," Trouble and Mischief intoned, and then there was a bright flash of light. When everyone could see again, the Emissaries were gone, as were everyone but Peter Pettigrew and Harry Potter, both who were sitting there, looking confused and uncertain as to what to do next.