HP: TSH — Chapter 317 - Extra: Praeris in Later Years 5

Praeris's words had real pull. The wizards of the Wizengamot could not quite suppress the faint, barely perceptible wavering on their faces.

"I object." Alexander's expression was impassive, his deep voice measured. "Ultimately, Praeris violated the regulations. If having a reason is enough to break the law, then what is the point of law?"

Albert raised his head, visibly approving of the argument.

"Praeris, you administered medication to a patient without obtaining a consent form because you knew you could never get one." He pinpointed the flaw cleanly. "As a Senior Healer, I can say with full confidence that I would never sign that consent form."

"Now you can say it was a special exception made for Dumbledore. Dumbledore is a war hero — is Harry Potter one? Harry Potter is a hero — do the members of the Order of the Phoenix count? If Order of the Phoenix members count, do the Hogwarts students who fought in the battle not count as heroes?"

Alexander spread his hands wide, arms opening further with each category he named.

"Praeris, I admire your talent." Coming from the plaintiff who had brought the accusation, the sentence landed like a thunderclap. Then his next words made everything clear. "Precisely because of that, you terrify me. Your future is limitless. If not for your age, no one would hesitate to call you a Potions Master. In the years ahead, you will create more and more dangerous potions, apply them to more and more people, and bind potion research to a train hurtling toward the abyss, causing incalculable consequences."

Praeris's low profile made it easy to underestimate her. But Alexander Shafiq had seen enough of the world to know exactly what he was looking at.

If you do not clip a bird's primary flight feathers early, you cannot stop it from soaring recklessly through the open sky. Whether she would become the next Dumbledore or the next Grindelwald, no one could say for certain.

This was Hermione's first time observing a trial, and it shook her deeply. The exile and the war had forced her to grow up fast, but politically she was still only a modestly gifted newcomer.

Nearly every time someone opened their mouth, Hermione had the same feeling: that's completely right. Then the next person spoke, and she was persuaded again. Then the person after that, and she was swept along all over again.

She could not help but wonder: what if everyone's starting point was justice? If the goal worth fighting for was only an imperfect justice, should you still keep fighting for it?

She would, without question. But... Hermione found herself thinking back to Kingsley's wry, tired smile when she had applied for the clerk position. He had looked at her and said: "Hermione, reality may not be what you imagine. A piece of heartfelt advice, in debates with politicians, what you need to do is not think about who is in the right. You must remember what it is you want to achieve."

This hybrid trial-and-hearing became a landmark on Hermione's political education. Kingsley had taught her the theory. Praeris was demonstrating the practice. And Hermione sat in that courtroom as a student, already knowing she would one day stand before her own assembly and argue just as fiercely for the rights of house-elves.

"Mr. Shafiq, you are quite right." After affirming Stella, Praeris affirmed her opponent just the same. Everyone knew she wasn't conceding. "Rules are indeed not to be trampled, but rules are not dead things."

She stood composedly before the assembly and looked toward the current Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "Mr. Abbott, I would like to ask you a presumptuous question."

"Miss Prince, go ahead."

"I have heard that during the war, for the sake of judicial justice, you spent a long time writing formal letters of complaint. What you received in return were laws changed, one by one. Is that correct?"

That was, admittedly, rather presumptuous.

Albert's face went through several colors before he finally answered honestly. "That is true, but,"

"Thank you." Praeris cut him off. "Miss Stewart, I would also like to ask, you previously worked in law drafting and amendment, and achieved widely recognized results. Is that correct?"

Stella said, "Yes."

"From this we can see," Praeris said, looking at the two officials who had each worked in that field, "that whether the outcome is good or bad, law is not a coffin buried in the ground, nailing life and the possibility of future progress shut inside it. It develops. It progresses. It adapts to the changing times."

"I admit my initial choice was concealment. I understood better than anyone the disaster this knowledge could bring, and letting it disappear silently seemed like the wisest option." She looked at Alexander, her meaning pointed. "But reality has shown me that secrets cannot remain secrets forever. My views have changed."

"Miss Granger, you work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, is that correct?" Praeris asked softly.

Hermione, scribbling notes at top speed, nodded.

"I understand that there are corresponding management and control regulations for dangerous or precious magical creatures, specific permits, for instance. Is that correct?"

Hermione was glad to be of help. "Yes. Kneazles, Fwoopers, and Crups, for example."

"Miss Stewart, you once worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Dealing with the same magical creatures, your department also had specific trade restriction measures. Is that correct?"

"Correct."

Praeris finished her questions and turned back to Alexander. "You are a Senior Healer with considerable depth in potion research as well. In the process of making potions, we require many rare magical creature products, Lobalug venom, for instance. Yet we do not hunt Lobalugs to extinction, nor do we ban their use outright. We impose strict restrictions instead. That is the civilized way to handle the tension between danger and necessity."

"Today and going forward, we will see more and more potion talents emerge, and more valuable yet dangerous potion research along with them. What is the real difference between how we view new potions today and how we once viewed magical creatures? Faced with valuable but dangerous potions and potion research, we don't need to slap the whole thing dead with one blow. We are simply missing the corresponding oversight regulations. That is all."

"The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and the Department of International Magical Cooperation have already shown us the answer: channeling is better than blocking, and oversight is superior to prohibition. So why, when it comes to potions, must we shrink back timidly and reverse the course of history? If we are truly that afraid of getting hurt, we might as well stop learning magic altogether. Is magic not dangerous?"

In just a few exchanges, she had made several Ministry departments into the foundation of her argument. Alexander, who had brought this prosecution in the name of justice, had been quietly repositioned as a conservative old fossil dragging history backward. Praeris had become the rising voice with something to offer.

She pressed her advantage. "I trust the esteemed members of the Wizengamot have already read the proposal I submitted, drafted specifically to address this matter."

She looked at Alexander and smiled. "Mr. Shafiq, I understand your position. Your refusal to sign my consent form proves my point exactly, we lack a standardized mechanism for evaluating high-risk frontier research. You could use your signature to stop me from researching right beside you. But could you stop me from researching while hiding under the covers at home?"

From somewhere in the shadows came the helpless splutter of a wizard who could not hold in the laugh.

"Ahem. I have a few words." A long-bearded wizard cleared his throat. "Prince, your name has long preceded you, and I imagine I need no introduction, I am Damocles Belby."

Damocles was the inventor of the Wolfsbane Potion. Praeris had built her early reputation on an improvement to that very potion. The moment she heard his name, her expression shifted. She became noticeably more serious.

"You believe..." Damocles spoke slowly, each word enunciated with care, "...that we need a potion oversight framework. As you say, faced with a wizard who hides away conducting research in secret, what should the Ministry do? As far as I know, before I publicly announced my results, no one knew I was working on the Wolfsbane Potion."

"It is a win-win mechanism," Praeris answered steadily. "Suppose someone is researching a potion. In your view, what do they need?"

"Inspiration, experience, and materials for research."

"Correct. But the most important thing is missing." Praeris said it plainly. "Money. In my student years, I had no money for research and could not get hold of certain rare materials. It was my professor and the owner of Slug and Jiggers Apothecary who made it possible."

"So I believe such a mechanism can be built into the oversight framework: once a frontier dangerous research assessment is approved, those deemed valuable can receive varying degrees of subsidies. Once the research successfully enters the market or is put to use at St Mungo's, the Ministry receives a corresponding share of the profits."

"Under oversight, with profit involved, a person who has no need for money and yet deliberately breaks the law to conduct dangerous research in secret should at least have to explain themselves. Shouldn't they?"

"What if a wizard has no shortage of money?" Damocles asked.

Praeris smiled. "Controlled magical creature products — shortage or not?"

If no shortage, the Ministry should be knocking on the door.

"I have no further questions," Damocles said.

He had no further questions, but the rest of the Wizengamot had begun to murmur. Stella, Kingsley, and Albert conferred quietly among themselves, then separated, waiting for the chamber to settle its differences.

Gradually, the whispers died down.

Stella asked softly, "Albert?"

Albert, his name now hanging in the air, finally said, at his own pace, "Those in favor of finding the charge not sustained, please raise your hands."

He did not raise his own hand at first. The prospect of amending laws again had clearly left its mark on him. But after a moment's hesitation, up it went.

Behind him, the Wizengamot followed in near-unison. At a glance, at least eighty percent.

"Right," Albert said. "The charge is not sustained. Next, those in favor of preliminarily passing the On the Ethics and Classification Framework for Potion Research, please raise your hands."

This time, nearly everyone.

"The proposal is preliminarily passed and will be forwarded to the International Magical Law Office."

Alexander's face had gone pale. He sank heavily into his chair. He did not understand why he had lost.

Praeris shook her head inwardly. What Alexander would never know was that his defeat had been decided from the very start.

She faced the older Healer and said with complete sincerity, "Mr. Shafiq, should the oversight law be enacted, I am willing to be the first person placed under it."

"Are you pitying me?"

"No. I admire your courage."

Accusing a colleague was no small thing, and accusing one with reputation, prospects, and connections was something else entirely, especially when that colleague's patient was Dumbledore. It was a foolish kind of courage. But Praeris gave him that much, at the end.

The wizards came down from the benches one by one. A good number made their way over to shake Praeris's hand, smiling as they told her she was young and promising, exceptionally gifted, and they hoped she would soon wake Dumbledore. Damocles, for his part, left without a word to anyone.

Praeris received each one the same way, the corner of her mouth lifted, unhurried.

Someone even offered comfort on the matter of Damocles, telling her that was just his nature, stubborn as a mule, that brilliant people were always a little strange, and that she herself was quite extraordinary, even her temperament was something to admire.

The last to approach her was Stella. The Deputy Minister slipped an arm around Praeris with the ease of long practice, beaming. "Congratulations, Praeris."

"You were so fierce just now," Praeris said, making a point of it.

"Public and private must be kept separate." Stella's tone was knowing.

Their perfectly timed performance laid to rest any lingering suspicion among the wizards that Slytherin's key figures had been at each other's throats.

Praeris walked out of the chamber and stopped.

The number of people waiting for her had multiplied. What had been just Draco Malfoy alone was now Draco Malfoy, Severus, Harry Potter, and Ron, four people arranged in two loose pairs, pointedly not speaking to one another.

"How did it go?" / "How did it go!"

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter spoke at exactly the same moment. They both paused, shot each other an odd sideways look, and arrived at matching expressions of discomfort.

Praeris laughed inwardly. "The charge was not sustained," she said. "The proposal was preliminarily passed."

Ron pressed a hand to his chest and exhaled. "Brilliant. Hermione was right, you always pull through."

They exchanged a few words, and then Hermione came out as well, full of praise for how Praeris had handled herself. Satisfied that she was unharmed, the three of them set their minds at ease and headed off together.

That left only Draco Malfoy and Snape.

Draco Malfoy was doing his best to telegraph something urgent with his eyes alone. "Knowing about your situation," he said, "Professor Snape was very worried."

"Hm?" Praeris smiled. "Perfect timing, then, everyone's here. I know a restaurant. When I was little, my mother — Sylvia — used to take me there sometimes on weekends. Shall we go?"

Draco Malfoy's expression said: you are absolutely done for.

Snape looked at her. A moment of silence. Then: "Where is it?"

Draco Malfoy made a small, stunned sound.

"Not far from here," Praeris said.

Back then, Sylvia was perhaps missing Winnie. She would take Praeris to a restaurant near the Ministry from time to time, on the chance that an old friend who worked there might walk through the door.

➤ Next: Extra: Praeris and Snape