Natsu Dragneel and the Order of the Phoenix

The Hearing

Natsu gasped; he could not help himself. The large dungeon he had entered was horribly familiar. He had not only seen it before, he had been here before. This was the place he had visited inside Master Makarov's Pensieve, the place where he had watched the Lestranges sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban.

The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of him, but ahead, in the highest benches of all, were many shadowy figures. They had been talking in low voices, but as the heavy door swung closed behind Natsu an ominous silence fell. A cold male voice rang across the courtroom.

"You're late."

"Sorry," said Natsu nervously "I — I didn't know the time had been changed."

"That is not the Wizengamot's fault," said the voice. "An owl was sent to you this morning. Take your seat."

Natsu dropped his gaze to the chair in the center of the room, the arms of which were covered in chains. He had seen those chains spring to life and bind whoever sat between them. His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked across the stone floor. When he sat gingerly on the edge of the chair the chains clinked threateningly, but did not bind him. Feeling rather sick, he looked up at the people seated at the bench above.

There were about fifty of them, all, as far as he could see, wearing plum-colored robes with an elaborately worked silver W on the left-hand side of the chest and all staring down their noses at him, some with very austere expressions, others looks of frank curiosity.

In the very middle of the front row sat Tome E. Fiore, the Minister for Magic. E. Fiore was a portly man who often sported a lime-green bowler hat, though today he had dispensed with it; he had dispensed, too, with the indulgent smile he had once worn when he spoke to Natsu. A broad, square-jawed witch with very short grey hair sat on E. Fiore's left; she wore a monocle and looked forbidding.

On E. Fiore's right was a wizard, but he was sitting so far back on the bench that his face was in shadow.

"Very well," said E. Fiore. "The accused being present - finally - let us begin. Are you ready?" he called down the row.

"Yes, sir," said an eager voice Natsu knew. Gray's sister Ultear was sitting at the very end of the front bench. Natsu looked at Ultear, expecting some sign of recognition from her, but none came. Ultear's eyes were fixed on her parchment, a quill poised in her hand.

"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," said E. Fiore in a ringing voice, and Ultear began taking notes at once, "into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Natsu Igneel Dragneel, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

"Interrogators: Tome Elliot Fiore, Minister for Magic; Lily Luna Olietta, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Karacka John Eisenwald, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Ultear Ur Milkovich -"

"Witness for the defense, Makarov Yuri Wulfric Brian Dreyar," said a quiet voice from behind Natsu, who turned his head so fast he cricked his neck.

Master Makarov was striding serenely across the room wearing long midnight-blue robes and a perfectly calm expression. His silver mustasch and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with Natsu and looked up at E. Fiore through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose.

The members of the Wizengamot were muttering. All eyes were now on Master Makarov. Some looked annoyed, others slightly frightened; two elderly witches in the back row, however, raised their hands and waved in welcome.

A powerful emotion had risen in Natsu's chest at the sight of Master Makarov, a fortified, hopeful feeling rather like that which phoenix song gave him. He wanted to catch Master Makarov's eye, but Master Makarov was not looking his way; he was continuing to look up at the obviously flustered E. Fiore.