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Last of The Fae Chapter 141: The Thane Fae Trials Pt. 1

"Good day, witches and wizards of the wizarding world. My name is Rita Skeeter, Senior Journalist for the Daily Prophet, and I am coming to you live from the Ministry of Magic on what may prove to be one of the most chaotic legal proceedings of the decade—the first day of the Thane Fae Trials.

As many of you are undoubtedly aware, last week Lord Thane Fae—Head to the prestigious House Fae and CEO of the rapidly expanding magical enterprise, Fae Inc.—was arrested under a cloud of controversy. Shortly after his detainment, he was denied bail and placed in the British Magical Detainment Center, where he has remained ever since. The charges levied against him are no minor infractions. They include: interference with an official Auror investigation, dangerous use of magic in the first degree, and the most damning of all—endangerment of minors with magic.

However, as with all things involving the enigmatic and polarizing Lord Fae, this situation is far from straightforward. In all my years reporting for the Prophet, I have never encountered a case that has sparked so much public discourse, division, and—in some circles—outright outrage.

Now, let us take a moment to examine the facts as we understand them. The incident in question took place aboard the Hogwarts Express, just days ago. According to the Ministry’s official statement, a squad of Dementors had been dispatched to board and search the train for the escaped convict Sirius Black. A man once believed to be a close confidant of the late James and Lily Potter, Black is now known to be a dangerous fugitive, allegedly responsible for their betrayal and subsequent deaths.

Earlier this summer, the Ministry announced that Dementors would be stationed at Hogwarts for the entirety of the academic year—an unprecedented and, frankly, deeply troubling move that has drawn sharp criticism from parents, educators, and several prominent members of the Wizengamot. The idea that such soul-draining creatures—infamous for their devastating psychological effects—should be allowed anywhere near our children has, understandably, not sat well with the public.

Which brings us back to the event in question. According to multiple eyewitnesses aboard the train, a swarm of Dementors suddenly descended without warning, sending students into a panic. It was in this moment of chaos, we are told, that Lord Fae stepped into the corridor and cast a powerful corporeal Patronus—an advanced spell typically beyond even the most skilled adult witches and wizards. Not only did the Patronus drive off the Dementors, it allegedly destroyed several of them entirely.

Now here is where the controversy begins to twist like a corkscrew. On one hand, we have the Ministry insisting that Lord Fae interfered with an authorized security operation, escalating the situation and putting students at risk. On the other hand, we have accounts from students who claim they felt terrorized by the Dementors and grateful for Lord Fae’s intervention. Some even described him as ‘a hero.’

So the question remains: Was Lord Fae a reckless noble acting out of ego, or was he a young wizard protecting his fellow students when the very institution tasked with their safety failed to do so?

The implications of this trial are monumental. Not only will it determine the future of one of the most influential figures of the next generation—it may also redefine the public’s trust in the Ministry and its methods. Is this the beginning of a necessary reckoning, or a calculated political maneuver? Is it about justice, or control?

We cannot say for certain what the next few days will bring, but one thing is clear—the world is watching.

For the Daily Prophet, this is Rita Skeeter, signing off—for now."

---

"Why the fuck do we have to go pick him up?" Jerry muttered darkly, his irritation thick in the air as he dropped his wand into the secure lockbox with a metallic clang. The enchantments on the box flared briefly before sealing the weapon away. Without waiting for a response, he moved past the checkpoint and into the dimly lit stone corridor that marked the entrance to the prison proper.

"You know damn well why," Steve grumbled, trailing behind with equal parts reluctance and exhaustion. He rubbed at the back of his neck, already regretting the shift. "No one else wants to risk drawing the ire of a noble heir who killed a Basilisk before he even turned twenty."

The moment the two Aurors crossed the threshold into the cell block, they were greeted with the usual chorus of jeers, catcalls, and colorful threats. Hardened criminals, their faces carved with age and aggression, pressed against the enchanted iron bars. Some were gaunt and twitching from withdrawal. Others flexed tattooed muscles, flashing wicked grins and missing teeth as they heckled the passing officers.

Jerry didn’t flinch. In fact, he smirked.

Steve glanced sideways, noting the amused expression creeping across his partner’s face.

"You find something funny in this hellhole?" he asked, voice low, suspicious.

Jerry let out a snort, shaking his head slightly. “Just picturing it, that’s all. The great and powerful Lord Fae, stuck in a place like this. I wonder how he’s been handling it.” He grinned, not kindly. “Think he complained about the thread count on his sheets? Or maybe threw a fit because he had to share a room with a guy named Mugs who eats live rats?”

Steve chuckled under his breath, trying not to smile. “You don’t seriously think he’s that pampered, do you?”

“Oh, please,” Jerry shot back, the grin fading as his voice turned colder. “You should’ve seen the way he acted when I arrested him—like he owned the fucking station. Smug as hell. Didn’t even flinch when I cuffed him. Gave me this look like I was a dog barking too loud during tea. Kids like that don’t get humbled. They get worse.”

Steve sighed, his expression sobering. “You know he’s an orphan, right?”

and all the money in the world.”

Jerry’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“…Oh.”

For a few moments, silence settled between them—awkward, but not unfamiliar. The only sounds were the flickering buzz of the enchanted torches and the distant echoes of laughter and metal scraping against stone as they neared the very end of the corridor.

Then Jerry exhaled through his nose and muttered, “Still don’t like the kid.”

Steve smirked. “Didn’t say you had to.”

The corridor grew quieter as they moved deeper into the high-security wing—where only the most dangerous, volatile, or politically inconvenient prisoners were kept. The cells here were wider, and with walls reinforced walls. Though the insides of the cell were somehow even more bare bones and desolate.

"They really don't want this bloke getting out do they?" Steve muttered as he gazed at the maximum security. 

"That's only part of it," Jerry commented, "The kids spent a week in this pit, it's only a step above Azkaban. He's going to be an absolute mess in-"

Jerry's words and body came to a stop as he stared into the cell at the very end of the corridor, "What the hell?" 

At his companion's words, Steve looked over as well and joined Jerry in staunch disbelief, "Did he already go insane?" 

Feeling a pair of eyes on him Thane turned around and smiled at the aurors standing outside his cell, "Is it my court date already? I'm afraid I've lost track of time, they haven't let me out of my cell since the incident." 

Neither Jerry nor Steve replied both were still in shock as they stared a Thane, who looked as if he had spent the last week at a spa, not a maximum security prison. Then there was his cell, everything was the same except for the fact that the walls floor, and ceilings were covered in mathematical equations clustered tightly together with diagrams of thin rectangular prisms and runic symbols written in interconnected rings.

"Officers?" Thane asked once more making Steve and Jerry flinch as their minds restarted. 

"Y-yes right, we're here to escort you to your court appearance!" Jerry announced loudly trying to project authority. 

Thane stared at the man for a moment before shaking his head, "Very well then." 

Approaching the gate Steve took out a pair of cuffs, "Stick your hands through the slot, if you will." 

Thane complied though his emerald gaze was fixated on Steve's face as if trying to place it, "I haven't seen you before...have I?" 

Steve glanced at Thane before quickly looking away and putting the cuffs on, "No this is the first time we've met." 

"You don't seem like a glory hound, so who did you piss off to get stuck dealing with me?" Thane asked treating Steve's unexpected involvement like a puzzle. 

"Nobody," Steve muttered sourly, "I lost a bet." 

Thane smirked at the answer before he stepped back and the cell door swung open letting him exit. 

"I don't think the custodial staff is going to be happy about you leaving behind all that shit on the walls?" Jerry muttered as he stepped behind Thane and started corraling him down the hallway. 

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Thane muttered and his eyes seemed to glow dimly for a second but Steve and Jerry missed it. 

"What do you mean you have no idea-" Steve started but cut off when he turned around and saw the pristine walls absent of the scholarly graffiti he had sure been there a moment ago, "What in the bloody hell?" 

"Looks like you officers need some sleep," Thane suggested though neither Steve nor Jerry felt that grateful. 

Marching back down the hallway Steve frowned feeling something was off though it took him a moment to realize why. 

“Why are they all so quiet?” Jerry asked aloud, a frown growing on his face.

“They know I don’t like noise,” Thane replied, voice light.

Steve turned to glance into one of the other cells—and felt something cold settle in his gut. Dozens of hardened inmates, the kind who laughed at torture and spat in the faces of executioners, were all pressed into the back corners of their cells.

Every single one of them stared at Thane.

Like they were watching something inhuman walk free.

Steve swallowed hard. “What the hell did you do to them?”

Thane didn’t break stride.

“I told you,” he said softly, “there was an incident.”


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