The room was silent. Jacobs laced his fingers on the table, staring her down. A cold awareness crept down Hermione's spine, like brushing fingers with a ghost.

"I'd like access to Malfoy Manor. I have evidence there to assist the True Order in—"

"Out of the question." Pierre leaned back in his chair. "Malfoy Manor is under lockdown. And the estate has already been swept, I assure you. Any 'evidence' you might have has been picked up already."

She lifted a brow at him. "Highly doubtful, General. You'd be treating me very differently if you'd seen what I have stored there."

Jacobs shifted in his chair, glancing at Pierre, but the Frenchman kept his gaze on her.

"And what might that be?"

"You'll have to let me retrieve it myself."

He laughed — a low rumble. "We have all the evidence we need to try the accused, Miss Granger."

"And that's my next question," she said, straightening in her chair at his condescending tone. "Which laws are these tribunals observing if a defendant can be tortured mid-trial?"

"A 'defendant,'" George said suddenly. "Is that what they are? Are you saying you didn't see Amycus and Alecto Carrow with your own two eyes—"

"What I saw is irrelevant. When they are on trial being prosecuted, they are defendants according to Wizarding Law and the Wizengamot's legal documents—"

"In case you haven't noticed, Miss Granger," said Jacobs, "the destruction caused by the Great Order required a new government to be built. The Justice Tribunal—"

"Yes, the Justice Tribunal," she said. "Which, I assume, has been granted a charter of some kind by the International Confederation of Wizards?"

"We are not bound by international law," said Pierre coolly. "The Justice Tribunal is free to prosecute its own citizens as it sees fit."

"Then why are you here, General Pierre?"

A muscle in Pierre's cheek twitched. "How can we help you today, Miss Granger?"

She lifted her chin. "Firstly, I would like all charges against Narcissa Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson dropped. Effective immediately."

Jacobs scoffed.

"Denied," Pierre said.

She clenched her palms into fists beneath the table. "I have proof that all three of them aided the True Order over the past year, and actively assisted in the downfall of the Great Order. In the interest of justice, I request that you review my memories before proceeding with those trials."

"Denied."

Her nostrils flared, and her anger boiled over. "Pansy Parkinson was sold like an animal, just like the rest of us! What are her crimes?"

"Miss Parkinson was declared dead a year ago. She's been colluding with Great Order members from that point onwards—"

"And what is your evidence for this? If you would view my memories, you'd see just how false your statement is—"

"Your memories, Miss Granger," Pierre said, "may not have the weight you think they do. You've been treated at St. Mungo's recently for mental tampering, I believe?"

The air left Hermione's lungs. She felt her hands shaking with anger. "I was cleared by the Healers, who found absolutely no evidence that I'd been subjected to mind-altering magic—"