Chapter Fourteen: The Inquiry

Star Wars + Harry Potter Crossover

A/N: Chap 13 review responses are in my forums.

Chapter Fourteen: The Inquiry

Kyle Katarn NEVER has a bad feeling about this. I mean, why would he?

"Do you think it was Dumbledore?" Harry asked in their quarters the evening after the first task. A copy of the Daily Prophet was spread out on the Harry's writing desk, as well as a summons to the Wizengamot.

"Not directly," Kyle said. "He was able to feign honesty when I confronted him. It's more likely something he engineered. The man is subtle, I'll give him that. He might have let slip one word, and that would have been enough. More likely it was one of his stooges—possibly Black since he has the most to gain if the Ministry tries to take you away."

"Can they?" Harry asked, wide-eyed.

"Within the greater galactic law, no," Kyle said. "When you turned fourteen, in fact, the law gave you the right to choose whether to become a Jedi Knight or not. Even Imperial law recognized that basic right. I'm sure you've noticed most padawans are actually older than you—that's because they start later. The only young ones we have are either orphans, or students whose parents accompany them to Ossus."

"Like Ansaki."

"Precisely. But there's also the more practical side of the question—whether we can physically stop them. That's why we're going to this inquest, Harry. Your people have their own power, and while I can take any one or even five at a time without effort, I would eventually fall if they come at us with numbers."

"But…"

Kyle put a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, we need you to get through this tournament. I need you safe. If that means we play along and let them officially take custody of you, we'll play along. You're a Jedi Padawan—there's no prison on this world that can hold you. Once we're done with the tournament, if necessary we'll call the Preening Crow and we'll leave this world once and for all."

"Okay, Kyle. But…shouldn't we at least prepare?"

"Oh, we'll prepare. The moment Amelia told me about the article, I've been preparing. I just want you to know that we have options."

"Right. Of course. So when is the inquest?"

"Tomorrow morning. So meditate and then get to sleep. Wear your Jedi robes."

~~Katarn~~

~~Katarn~~

The nondescript man in the red auror robes met them near what looked like a Muggle phone booth before the sun even rose the next morning. "Mr. Katarn, Mr. Potter?"

"That's us. Gawain Robards?"

"Right, sir. This way, please."

He led them into the phone booth and punched in a combination of numbers. Moments later, despite the morning Muggle foot traffic walking unknowingly all around them, the booth sank into the ground. Harry stood with Kyle's hand on his shoulder fighting back waves of worry with every trick he knew in the Force.

While he had seen Kyle at his weakest and most tired, and felt genuine terror at losing him, never before had he faced the prospect of someone else just taking him away from his master. The idea was ludicrous within the greater galaxy. Separating Jedi masters and padawans was a crime. And yet, on this primitive backwater of a planet that was his birthplace, the prospect was terrifyingly real.

"Is it a public session?" Kyle asked the auror.

"No, sir. Boss managed to get a closed hearing. You should have heard the squawking about it, too."

Kyle nodded; Harry could feel satisfaction from the old Jedi.

They emerged from the phone booth into a genuinely impressive, cavernous space lined in offices, almost like someone took Picadilly Square and put it underground. However, it held an oppressive air to it. There wasn't enough light, Harry decided. The Praxeum on Ossus always had light. Too much of the Ministry cavern seemed shrouded in shadow for Harry's taste.

People stared at them in the clunky lift after they passed through a cursory inspection point, but he followed Kyle's lead and ignored the looks. They continued out into the level that held the courtroom where the entire Wizengamot would be hearing the case.

"You look like you have a plan," Harry said under his breath.

"I have about six. We'll see which one fits best."

They were met outside the courtroom by a tall, gaunt fellow in a yellow and black pinstriped silk suit with an alarmingly crimson tie. He was the palest fellow Harry had ever seen, with dark circles under his eyes, and had no presence in the Force at all. Instead of offering a hand, he nodded regally to Kyle. "Master Katarn?"

"Mr. Sanguini," Katarn said with a curt nod. "Are we ready?"

The tall man smiled, and Harry suddenly realized why he was having such a hard time sensing the Force from him. The smile flashed a pair of long, sharp, almost snake-like fangs. "Indeed we are, Master Katarn."

With the tall vampire in the lead, the three stepped into a crowded, noisy amphitheater. While the observation seating was empty, the seats of the Wizengamot members were full to capacity. What caught Harry's attention was how old and decrepit the walls of the space appeared. While the seats were polished, as was the wood half-wall that separated the Wizengamot members from the floor, the walls and columns behind them revealed cracked or missing plaster, broken brick work and web-strewn murals of past members.

The members themselves were dressed either in black or plum-colored robes with large, trigonal hats that matched the color of their robes. Like the walls behind them, most appeared as old and decrepit as their surroundings—at least three members were actually asleep.

Dumbledore was one of the few not asleep. He wore a plum robe and hat, and stood speaking with another extraordinarily old witch with lines in her face that appeared to be deep enough to tickle her spine. As they walked in, Harry saw two raised platforms framed in banisters. On the right side facing the Wizengamot stood Cornelius Fudge, whom Harry recognized from the First Task. With him stood a short, wide-bodied woman in Wizengamot robes. She left the podium when they entered and walked quickly back to the stands where she sat.

"Well, it looks as if we're all here, then," Dumbledore said from the central podium. "Mr. Sanguini, what surprise. What can we do for your today?"

"I have been retained by Mr. Katarn as legal counsel, Chief Warlock," the Vampire said. His voice sounded deep, cool and powerful.

"This is a simple inquest, Mr. Katarn does not need counsel."

Sanguini flashed his fangs. "With respect, Chief Warlock, a simple inquest does not require the entire Wizengamot to be in session. Therefore, he does."

"Oh get on with it, Dumbledore, and let's put the Potter boy where he belongs!" the craggy-faced old witch Dumbledore spoke with when they entered said.

The Chief Warlock managed to look chagrinned at the statement before rapping his gavel. "Very well, this special session of the Wizengamot is in session. Our purpose today is to review the guardianship of one Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, deceased. Minister, I believe you are representing the Ministry?"

"I am!" Fudge all but bellowed. "Witches and wizards of the Wizengamot, the Ministry has been inundated with demands from our people to get to the root of this matter. And so I directed Madam Mafalda Hopkirk of the Improper Use of Magic Department, which as a department within the DMLE also oversees child welfare in general, to determine how Harry Potter came to in the custody of Mr. Kyle Katarn. I also directed Ms. Hopkirk to determine just who Mr. Katarn is. I call on Madam Hopkirk to give testimony."

Hopkirk appeared to be a frumpy witch of late middle age wearing a too-tight business skirt of a unique orange color that did fascinating things to her complexion. She walked daintily on heels far too long for her to balance on and took a seat that popped into existence between the two boxes, facing the Wizengamot.

"Mrs. Hopkirk," Fudge said pompously. "What is your role in the placement of orphaned wizard children?"

Hopkirk cleared her throat, twice. "My office is in charge of placing such children with foster families, Minister."

"Very good. And did your office place Mr. Potter with Mr. Katarn?"

"No, we have no record of Mr. Katarn at all, Minister."

"Thank you," Dumbledore said. "You are dismissed, Ms. Hopkirk."

"Ahh, with respect, Chief Warlock," Sanguini said with a fang-filled smile that at once begged forgiveness and refused to be ignored. "But on behalf of my client I must demand the right to question Ms. Hopkirk as well."

"Mr. Sanguini, as I said, this is merely an inquest," Dumbledore noted with obviously forced patience.

"And as I said, such an inquest does not require the full Wizengamot. The fact you are all here means you can vote on Mr. Potter's status today, which means no one here remotely believes your claims. Therefore, on behalf of my clients I demand the right of cross-examination."

"What you demand is irrelevant," the broad-faced Wizengamot witch who spoke to Fudge earlier, said.

"With respect, Madam. Umbridge, it is not," Sanguini said. "Surely the Senior Undersecretary of magic is aware of the very laws she is tasked to uphold?"

"He's right, Albus," Amelia Bones said from the opposite side of the assembly from Umbridge. "While the full body is in session and can make a determining vote, all parties have a right to be heard."

Dumbledore sighed. "Very well. Proceed, Mr. Sanguini."

"Thank you, Chief Warlock," the Vampire said with a gracious nod. He turned and grinned hungrily at Hopkirk, who cleared her throat nervously. "Madam Hopkirk, I shall only take a moment more of your time. You have said that your office did not place Mr. Potter with my client. Is that correct?"

"That's right!" she said, happy to have an easy question.

"So, did your office place Mr. Potter with his previous guardians?"

Hopkirk frowned and pulled at her rings. She turned to look pleadingly at Fudge.

"Answer the question!" Sanguini suddenly snapped, eyes flashing and fangs extending.

"No!" she blurted out. "No," she said again with slumped shoulders. "We did not."

"So, to be clear, your department had no role in the placement of Mr. Potter to his previous guardians?"

"No."

"Thank you," Sanguini said. "That is all."

Harry could see that Dumbledore was fighting back irritation. Fudge did not appear happy either. "The Ministry calls Sirius Black," the Minister said.

The bearded wizard stepped out of the same side antechamber Hopkirk did, but showed no sign of nervousness at all as he sat down. "Mr. Black," Fudge said. "Please state your relationship to Mr. Potter?"

"I'm his Godfather," Sirius said. "His parents, James and Lily Potter, were my best friends. They asked me to take care of Harry if anything happened to them. It's my duty as godfather to take the boy in."

Though Kyle said it was likely Black pushing things, still it made Harry's stomach drop to hear it confirmed.

Fudge continued to ask questions regarding Black's plans for Harry, and every word appeared practiced and contrived. Worse yet, Harry could feel Black's desire in the Force. The man truly believed it was his duty to take Harry. He was not acting out of spite, but out of love and a misplaced sense of responsibility.

When Fudge was done, Sanguini once again flashed his reptilian grin. "So, Mr. Black, you have said much of duty and responsibility—both admirable qualities. Let me ask you, then. Where were you when Mr. Potter was placed with his previous guardians?"

Black's face darkened and he glared at all around him. "I was sent to Azkaban without trial!"

"Yes, a tragic story," Sanguini said. "I am glad for your sake that justice was finally done. But perhaps I wish to be more clear. What were the events that led you to be at Azkaban, rather than in possession of your godson?"

Black frowned, lost in old pain and memories, as he recounted the moments after he found Harry and his dead parents. Even Harry was astonished to learn what Black did. Sanguini, though, merely continued to grin.

"So, to be clear," Sanguini said. "You allowed a half-giant convicted criminal to take your injured and bleeding godson from the ruins of your friend's house, and instead chose to pursue Mr. Pettigrew for revenge. Would you say that is correct?"

For the first time since taking the center seat, Harry noticed Black seemed a little unsure of himself. "I suppose," he finally admitted.

"You suppose," Sanguini said. "Mr. Black, were you aware that Mr. Potter's previous guardians forced him to live in a cupboard under the stairs?"

Black stared, wide-eyed. Behind the vampire, a few of the Wizengamot members sat up in surprise. But Sanguini was just getting started. "Further, Mr. Black, were you aware that Mr. Potter was suffering from such under nutrition that he was on the verge of developing rickets in his bones and scoliosis in his spine? That he had suffered four broken limbs from his uncle, and was whipped repeatedly. That his dear aunt hit him in the head with a frying pan? That his cousin hunted him and beat him daily with a gang of Muggle youths?"

No the Wizengamot members were openly muttering to themselves while Dumbledore looked on with a stoic expression.

Black seemed to wilt. "No," he admitted, his eyes watering.

"Of course not, you were in Azkaban," Sanguini said with gradually increasing volume and tempo. "And the reason you were in Azkaban is not solely because of a miscarriage of justice, but because you put your own need for revenge ahead of the needs of your injured, newly orphaned godson!"

"I would have died for Harry!" Black screamed suddenly.

"And what good would that have done him?" Sanguini snapped back. Black sat back down as if slapped. "The point of being a Godfather is not to seek revenge or to die a noble death. It is to care for your godson. And you failed, Black! You chose revenge over caring for Harry, and as a result of that decision, you allowed Albus Perciful Wulfric Brian Dumbledore to personally place Harry with abusive, hateful, monstrous Muggles. You, Black! Not the Wizengamot, just you! And now you dare, after failing so spectacularly, to come and try to claim some right to possess Harry from the one man who saved him, gave him a home, and gave him a purpose? You are not even worth the blood in you veins!"

"That is enough!" Dumbledore snapped.

Sanguini's entire temperament changed, snapping back to the preternatural calm he showed before the cross-examination even began. "Of course, Chief Warlock," Sanguini said. "I am done with this one."

"If it pleases the Wizengamot," Amelia Bones said. "Harry Potter is a fourteen-year-old wizard. Tradition dictates he has a right to state his wishes. For my part, I am interested in his view."

"He's a child," Dumbledore countered. "It has been my experience that children are unable to determine what is in their best interests."

"My niece might argue that point with you, Chief Warlock," Bones said. "Regardless, he is old enough that we should take his desires into account, as per tradition. I wish to hear what he has to say."

Others echoed the call, until Dumbledore slammed the podium with his gavel. "Very well. Harry James Potter, take a seat, please."

With a glance to Kyle, Harry left the Respondent's box and stepped to the chair, for the first time facing the assembled Wizengamot members without Kyle. From his box behind him, Fudge was whispering with his aids furiously. "Minister?" Dumbledore said.

"We have only one question," Fudge said. "Mr. Potter, is Kyle Katarn your master?"

It was a loaded question, Harry knew. He supposed he could lie, but when he looked at Kyle, the old Jedi merely nodded. "Yes, he is," Harry said.

Dumbledore schooled his features, but Fudge did not bother and smiled happily.

"Mr. Potter," Sanguini said, "are you Master Katarn's apprentice?"

"I am," Harry said.

"Do others call Mr. Katarn 'Master'?"

"Everyone," Harry said. "He's a Jedi Master; it's his formal title, among others. He has a lot of titles. He saw me getting beat up by my cousins gang in a park and walked me back to my Aunt and Uncle's house. He spoke to them, and they agreed to give him custody of me. He made it official with the Muggle authorities. Since then, he's never spanked me or beaten me, I always have plenty of good food to eat, and I've learned more than I ever dreamed possible. One time he even took me to Blackpool."

At their confused expressions, he added, "A Muggle amusement park."

"So, you contest the popular theory that you are a slave?" Sanguini said.

"Not with Master Katarn. I was a slave with the Dursleys, but Kyle saved me from them."

Fudge no longer looked happy. "Wizards and witches, the entire discussion is moot regardless! This…this…Katarn fellow isn't even a wizard!"

"Oh?" Kyle said. His gruff voice echoed through the suddenly quiet chamber. "Care to prove that, Minister Fudge? Say, with a duel? When Dumbledore and his entire Order attempted to kidnap Harry from my home, I defeated every one of them without using lethal force. When ten wizards in black robes and silver masks attacked us in our home, we destroyed them so thoroughly not even their bones remained. So, do you really care to prove your accusation?"

At the mention of wizards in silver masks, the Wizengamot started fighting each other again.

Harry, with no further questions, rose from his seat and rejoined Kyle in the box. "Why aren't we mentioning anything about the Jedi?" He spoke just above a whisper, confident the noise in the chamber would mask his voice.

"Because these people are ignorant of the greater galaxy at large, and are not capable of believing or understanding anything beyond the horizon of their little existence."

Harry turned and looked at the fighting officials. He easily spotted Amelia Bones's allies as they tore into those of Umbridge and Fudge, while Dumbledore's faction argued against both.

"I sense Black nearby," Harry told his master. "May I speak with him?"

Kyle merely nodded. No one seemed to notice or care as Harry left the chamber and walked into the antechamber. Inside, he found Sirius Black sitting in a chair in the far corner, ignoring the softly upholstered benches nearer the door. He sat with his hands clasped and his elbows on his knees; head down.

"Mr. Black?"

Sirius looked up, and Harry saw that the man's eyes looked red and swollen. "Ah, the prodigal son," Black said bitterly. "Your master send you in here?"

"No," Harry said. "I just…I need to know something. About my parents."

"Anything!"

"Would my parents want me to be happy, Mr. Black?"

"Of course they would!" Black said, before swallowing. "They would," he added a moment later more calmly. "They loved you so much, Harry. James wept like a babe the first time he held you, and every time he saw you and your mum, he'd got all weepy and emotional. We teased him relentlessly for it, but…but I understood. You were their world, and I know they didn't think twice defending you with their lives."

Harry nodded. "Mr. Black, a few years ago, ten Death Eaters attacked us in our home. Kyle held them off, even though they were using the Crucio curse on him. He held them off to protect me. He didn't think twice either. And the very next day, even though he was hurt really bad, he took me to Blackpool to help take my mind off what happened."

Sirius leaned back and rubbed his face. "He really took you away, didn't he? To another world?"

"To keep me safe."

The wizard stared down at the floor. "Sometimes, in Azkaban when the dementors were busy torturing someone else, I would dream of swooping in on my motorbike and taking you away someplace safe. Majorca, or the Americas. And I would raise you to be a good, powerful wizard, someone to make James and Lily proud."

"You don't think they'd be proud of me?" Harry asked. He couldn't help the tiny touch of worry in his voice.

Sirius heard it as well. "No, Harry, I think they would be very proud of the young man you've become. And they'd be disappointed in me for not doing my duty. The vampire was right, Harry. I chose vengeance over you. I don't…I don't deserve you."

The older wizard shot suddenly to his feet and swept by Harry as if possessed. Harry followed as they went back out into a noisy chamber filled with shouting wizards and witches. Some looked on the very of cursing each other when Black placed his wand to his voice and shouted, "Silence!"

His magically amplified voice boomed over the chamber, forcing all those within to look at him.

"After talking with my godson, the House of Black formally withdraws its petition!" Sirius continued. "Harry has proven to my personal satisfaction that he is happy and well-cared for with his current guardian. His guardian has also demonstrated he has only Harry's best interests at heart. So I withdraw my petition, and all of you old hags can go rot!"

With that, Black spun on his heel and stomped out of the chamber, leaving those within staring in shock. Harry made his way to Kyle's side. "Was that one of your plans?"

Kyle snorted. "No, I was going to drop a torp on the Hogwarts quidditch stadium to convince them not to mess with me."

Harry stared. "Really?"

"It was one of my plans," Kyle admitted dryly. "The main one was just getting a hold of a good lawyer."

"I do my best," Sanguini said with an eloquent shrug. "I have come to realize there is no better job for a blood-sucking creature of the night than the noble practice of law."

Kyle snorted, which for him was a guffaw of laughter. "You did good here. I'll await your bill."

"But…but…we can't just let the Boy Who Lived remain with this Muggle!" Umbridge called.

Harry looked up at Kyle and saw the old warrior's chin jut out. "Madam, that is the second time you've referred to me as a Muggle. Prove it. Get down here, and I will be glad to show you my magic."

Her eyes bulged. "You dare challenge the Undersecretary of Magic?"

"Put up or shut up," Kyle snapped back.

"Very well!" Umbridge said.

Harry stared in surprise, and at his glance he saw Amelia was just as surprised as the wide-bodied witch made her way down from the stands. "If this is what it takes to show you are unsuitable to have custody of a magical child, I shall gladly do my duty."

She reached the floor and instantly brandished her wand, only to have it fly out of her hand and into Kyle's. To the utter shock of all those, he snapped it. "Okay, show me your magic."

"My…my…you snapped my wand!" she howled.

"So what?" Kyle said. "I don't have one. You seem to think that makes me a Muggle. Well, you don't have one either. Are you a Muggle now?"

"Of course not!" she harrumphed.

Kyle held out a hand, and with the gesture Umbridge floated two feet off the floor. "So show me your magic, Umbridge. I'm showing you mine right now. Can you break my levitation 'charm'? Show me if you can."

"You broke my wand, how can I?" she demanded.

Kyle snorted with such scathing contempt Umbridge blushed. "And you call yourself a witch? Without a wand you are no better than the Muggles you despise. Does anyone else wish verification that I have power?"

"I think you have made yourself clear," Dumbledore said. The old wizard's shoulders looked bowed. "More importantly, the petition for guardianship has been withdrawn. Therefore the inquest is over. Thank you for your time."

Kyle let the wide-bodied witch fall the two feet back to the floor, where she stumbled and fell back on her wide backside. With that, Dumbledore left the chamber, sweeping his cronies up behind him.

"So," Kyle said as Harry stepped out of the respondent's box. "How does Thai sound?"

"Like an Imperial star fighter," Harry said.

Kyle's withering stare let Harry know what he thought of the joke. For some reason, Harry didn't care at all as he smiled brightly back.

sp

A/N: No, he didn't kick her in the head. But with people like Umbridge, what he did was worse (or better, depending on your POV). Thanks for reading.