3Hanging by a thread- by the pkrmgc
Standard fanfiction disclaimer: All intellectual property belongs to its rightful owners.
A White council log of the events of June 6th and 7th 1990 (9 years before the events of Storm Front)
10:45 PM: Councilor Rashid reports a violation of the 7th law of magic in the vicinity of Fulton Vermont. Outsider presence in the area is suspected.
12:00 AM: An emergency session of the senior council is called. Councilors Langtry, Rashid, Liberty, and Pietrovich are in attendance.
12:30 AM: Warden Donald Morgan is sent to investigate Outsider activity.
5:00 AM: Warden Morgan arrives in Fulton, begins his investigation at a nearby gas station recently destroyed in an explosion.
5:30 AM: Outsider presence confirmed, remains of He Who Walks Behind are found in the ruins of said gas station and destroyed as per standard procedure. Warden Morgan reports that a wizard of council level talent ignited the Gas explosion through magical means.
5:35 AM: directions to the residency of Warden Justin DuMorne (retired) are forwarded.
6:00 AM: Warden Morgan reports a violation of the 1st law, requests backup from warden command. Warden DuMorne is reported deceased, his house destroyed by the same wizard that killed the walker. The search begins.
8:00 AM: Warden Morgan accepts the peaceful surrender of the warlock in a barn not far from Fulton. He reports the name of the suspect to be Harry Dresden and requests permission to terminate on site.
8:05 AM: Permission denied until Outside circumstances have been understood, Orders issued to return subject to Edinburgh
In the high halls of the white council there sits a boy waiting for judgment. He does not know where he is or who holding him accountable for his crimes.
He has a pretty good idea about what those crimes are though: he is Harry Dresden, and he has just killed his mentor and foster father of 6 years.
Granted, the man had enthralled his girlfriend and may have been trying to kill him with all manner of foul magic at the time, but since when did little things like that stand in the way of JUSTICE. If these pointy-hatted weirdoes were going to preside over his execution they should at least had the courtesy to do so in English. This was supposedly a trial but the whole "bag over the head" thing tended to suggest that he wasn't going to be walking out of this thing alive.
And yet… they had ample time to kill him so far and yet here he was with his head firmly attached to his shoulders (although there were times he suspected that it never was screwed on quite right). Harry was starting to regret not having paid more attention in language class, but he had always had a knack for listening. Despite not knowing a word these geezers said he could tell that the tone of the trial was shifting away from the overtones of "Imperial death march" he had been hearing earlier. The group of voices led by the man with a wisp of a southern drawl seemed to be gaining strength at the expense of the one represented by the angry Brit who had "arrested" him.
Inside the bag, Harry Dresden felt a cautious smile break out from behind the tears.
They had told him he was under the "Doom of Damocles" and then all but booted him out of the complex under the watchful (if not malicious) eyes of one of the longer bearded wizards. The man had introduced himself as Ebenezer McCoy before demanding to be referred to as "Sir" (yea, like he would take anyone that seriously).
Yet as he stepped out onto the rich loam of the Ozarks he felt better like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Since his father died all those years ago he had felt like an outcast on the fringe of society, something to be feared and reviled. There might be a sword hanging over his head now, but this? This was where he belonged.
Author commentary: the years before Storm Front have a lot going on if you dig just below the surface, this is my take on the days around Harry's (first) trial.
