The League Against Voldemort

Note: This story was written before 'Goblet of Fire' was published; hence some of the things here contradict what we learned from it. I hope this doesn't harm anyone's enjoyment of the story.

~

Why should I save his hide?
Why should I right this wrong?
When I have come so far
And struggled for so long?
If I speak, I am condemned.
If I stay silent, I am damned!
From Les Miserables - 'Who Am I?'

~

Professor Dumbledore was asleep in his office, snoring gently with his head resting on a pile of unread papers. A small, very speedy owl flew in the half-open window. It dropped a letter on his head. He stirred a little, but did not wake. The owl landed beside him, folding tired wings, and hooted. Professor Dumbledore opened his eyes.

'What is it?' he asked sleepily. Then he saw the owl. 'Where's the letter?' It pushed it towards him. 'Thank you.'

The owl flew from the room, and Dumbledore picked up the letter. It was yet another urgent memo from the Ministry of Magic. Scarcely worth waking him up for, he thought.

He opened it. It was short and to the point.

To: Professor A. Dumbledore
From: Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic
Re: Sirius Black

We have succeeded in recapturing Black. He is being held in the Diagon Alley office. Come immediately.

Dumbledore took a deep breath. Then he sprang to his feet, very alert. He rang a little bell, and put on his purple velvet cloak. In a moment, there were two other people at the door to the office, both rubbing sleep from their eyes.

'Minerva, Severus, I've got to go to the Ministry straight away,' he said. 'They've caught Sirius Black.' As he spoke, his mind was racing. There must be something he could do to prevent the inevitable.

'Thank heavens for that,' said Minerva.

A strange, unfathomable look crossed Severus' face. 'I take it he will be given the Kiss?' he asked slowly.

'Presumably,' said Dumbledore with a sigh. 'I have to go at once.' A thought struck him, and he snatched up a piece of parchment and scribbled a note. 'Minerva, send this off as soon as you can. Use the fastest owl in the tower.'

'Of course.' She looked at the address. R. Lupin, Hill Cottage, Llyn Alwyn, Snowdonia, Wales. 'What? Why are you…?' she began, fixing him with her piercing eyes.

'Please, Minerva, trust me on this,' he interrupted. 'I may be some time. Keep everything running smoothly for me.'

They both nodded. Without any further ado, Dumbledore went to a closet and took out his broomstick - a Silver Arrow, a vintage model - and brought it to the window. He watched as Minerva hurried up to the Owlery, and then smiled at Snape, who was still looking at him with the strange expression in his eyes. 'Do your best, Severus,' he said quietly, and flew the broom from the window.

~

The owl flew fast and straight to the cottage where Remus lived. He was woken by its repeated hooting outside the window, and he let it in, remembering the last time an owl had arrived in the middle of the night with a shudder.

This letter was written in the same swift, loopy handwriting, but the news struck him even harder than the former. Sirius! He spoke his name aloud, wildly, desperately, his mind in a frenzy of grief and anger. He was caught, and it was all over. Sirius was captured.

Remus pulled himself together. This time, he could not afford to waste precious minutes in worry. After dragging on his robes with shaking hands, he took up his wand, and Disapparated.

~

Severus Snape went to sit in his room at the side of the Slytherin dungeons. The whole school had been roused by some wakeful student who had heard the news, and he could hear the Slytherins chattering and gossiping on the other side of the wall, but he did not feel able to face them. Not with their hundreds of questions about how Sirius Black had been caught, about his punishment.

If he closed his eyes, he could see the Dementors, standing around Sirius Black with their hoods lowered. He felt an incomprehensible mingling of emotions. Bitter, twisted pleasure filled him at the final punishment of his enemy, at the righting of the balance that had for so long been tipped against him. Now at last he would have his revenge, more than twenty years overdue.

But - but …, a small part of his mind was protesting weakly. He didn't commit the crimes he's about to be punished for. Well, what was that to him? Life wasn't fair. Besides, it was Sirius Black, Black who had tried to kill him, Black who had mocked him, never left him in peace. But still, the doubts hung around his head and would not go away. Could he let this happen, knowing the truth as he did?

He was standing in the shadow of the Whomping Willow, looking at James Potter. James Potter, who had just risked his life to save him from a werewolf. To whom he owed his life. Who had not hesitated to rescue him. And, for a moment, he felt no hatred.

Would they never be done with humiliating him? Even so long after his death, James could still make him feel worthless. He knew all too well the debt he owed him, a life-debt. James had not have hesitated to go there, to rescue his enemy from such a fate. And it would scarcely be his own life that hung in the balance this time. Only his accursed pride.

He paced around the room, staring from the window into the star-dusted night. Staring into the past, into the future.

~

Professor Dumbledore did not waste words on formalities when he reached the Ministry headquarters.

'Where is he?'

The junior civil servant in Reception knew at once whom he meant. 'He's being held in the Securitas Room, sir. The Minister is waiting for you in his office, however, and he said he'd like you to be shown up to him, if you don't mind, sir.'

'All right, then. I know the way. If a man called Remus Lupin arrives, show him up to wherever I am.'

'Very good, sir.'

Dumbledore left the civil servant standing behind the desk, and half-ran up the stairs to Fudge's office. He went in without knocking.

'Oh, thank goodness you're here, Albus,' said Fudge breathlessly. 'Black was kicking up a huge fuss - telling us this drivel about how Mr Pettigrew was still alive and how you would vouch for him. We thought it would be better to wait for you to come before we let the Dementors have him. Besides, they're being brought over from Azkaban, and that'll take a while.'

Dumbledore nodded. 'I'll have to speak to Black.'

'Do you think that would be wise? I mean, after the last time -'

'It is necessary.' There was a note of finality in Dumbledore's voice.

'If you say so…'

'Tell me how you came to catch him.'

'Well, it's quite a long story. It was entirely by chance, you know, though of course we're not intending to leak that. Our reputation has taken enough of a plummet without that getting out. In fact, it was one of your League men who did the catching.'

'Who?' asked Dumbledore curtly.

'Oh - what's he called - funny name … yes, Arion Something.'

'Arion,' echoed Dumbledore. 'Yes. That makes sense.'

'Anyhow, he says he was just getting near You-Know-Who's hiding place when he happened upon Black. Apparently Black was meeting with one of You-Know-Who's servants - unfortunately the other chap got away in the dark. Anyway, he put a Binding Spell on Black and dragged him up here. I think he's quite a powerful wizard, that Arion fellow. Naturally, I've put him forward for the Order of Merlin. He didn't seem to want it, but he most definitely deserves it.'

Dumbledore nodded. 'I shall go and see Sirius now, if you don't mind. You needn't come; I'm sure you have plenty of work. I will be quite safe.'

'Well, if you feel you must…,' said Fudge doubtfully. 'The Dementors should be here shortly.'

Arion was sitting outside the Securitas Room. He held his wand in his hand, and he had the patient look in his eye of one who would be prepared to sit there all day. In his old-fashioned grey cloak and muddy boots, he looked oddly out of place in the tidy, carpeted corridors of the Ministry. He nodded a greeting to Dumbledore.

'I hear you did the deed,' said Dumbledore. 'How did it come about?' Arion began to explain, and Dumbledore listened with far more attention than he had given Fudge.

'…and so I brought him straight here,' Arion concluded. 'I didn't catch the person he was meeting with, unfortunately, but he was almost certainly one of Voldemort's followers. Of course, Black carried on with his story that it was Pettigrew the whole way here.' He gave a dry laugh. 'But that's not surprising; you don't expect a cornered man to give up without a struggle.' His tone changed, becoming regretful. 'He used to be a fine man. We were friends once.'

Dumbledore nodded absently. 'I expect Remus will be here shortly. Let him in when he turns up.'

'If you say so.'

Dumbledore turned to go in.

'The door only opens from the outside,' said Arion. 'You'll have to let me know when you want to be let out.'

'Right.' Dumbledore pulled open the door, heavy both with bronze that resisted magical assaults and with a multitude of spells.

Black was standing by the barred window, looking at the starry sky.

'Dumbledore,' he gasped when he entered. 'Thank heavens.' The door swung shut again, clanging like a death-knell. 'Is there anything you can do? You know I'm innocent.'

Professor Dumbledore's face was very grave. 'Sirius, I have no proof. I can try to delay them, but it will take a miracle.'

Sirius looked away for a moment. Then, very softly, he said, 'I asked Remus to do something for me once … he's not here now, so … I'll ask you instead.'

Dumbledore met his sunken eyes, knowing the question before Sirius asked. 'No, Sirius. I can't do that.' He blinked furiously for a moment. 'You don't have any more evidence that will help?'

Sirius sat heavily on the stool that was the only piece of furniture in the room. 'No. I've been searching for Pettigrew - I was almost there … but then Arion met me. I tried … I tried to tell him, but he didn't listen.'

The door creaked open, and a grey-faced Remus burst into the room. Sirius sprang up and embraced his friend.

'Sirius, what are we going to do?' He glanced hopefully at Dumbledore, so often the source of a solution to their problems.

Dumbledore shook his head heavily. 'I will try … but there is nothing I can promise. I will try to get them to change the sentence back to imprisonment, but there is very little hope. There is no way I can engineer another escape, not from here. Fudge already doubts my motives.'

'Damn Fudge!' Remus whirled around. 'You and I both know, Harry and his friends know, that Sirius is innocent. Will they not believe us?'

But Sirius answered that. 'Remus, there's no point hoping. Harry and his friends are students, Snape says I put a Confundus Charm on them and who's to gainsay him? You - you know why you won't be believed. And Dumbledore has no proof beyond his own word.' His voice was flat, hopeless, and he sank back onto the stool.

Remus sat on the floor beside him and leaned his head on Sirius' shoulder. His grey eyes were full of pain.

'Will you keep the promise you made?' asked Sirius, his voice barely audible.

Taking a shuddering breath, Remus said, 'Oh, Sirius …. Yes. I may - be able to do nothing else - but I know - I understand…'

The door opened again. Arion looked in. 'Albus, the rest of the judicial committee are here. Fudge would like you to join them.'

'Just a moment.' Dumbledore looked at them. 'Sirius, I will try my best. Remus, if you want to stay…'

'I'll stay.' His voice caught in his throat. 'Will you warn us … when you reach a decision?'

'Yes.' Dumbledore blinked again. Then he went to Sirius. 'There is always hope, Sirius, as long as you live. Don't despair too soon.' He looked at Remus. 'You too.'

Sirius mustered himself and smiled faintly at Dumbledore. 'Thank you.' For a moment, Dumbledore clasped his hand without speaking, and then went from the room.

~

'No, Professor Dumbledore, although your story is interesting, I fear it cannot be supported.' Fudge's tone was respectful, but firm, and the other elderly wizards and witches around the table nodded agreement. 'The evidence is powerfully against you. Nor can the sentence be changed. Please bear in mind that it was undoubtedly with the - uh, the suspect's assistance that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has recovered. And so, although I don't like to go against you, I fear we will have to carry on as before.'

'Exactly,' said Macnair, who had arrived with the Dementors. 'This whole idea is foolish. I don't know why we even wasted the time having this little - chat.'

Fudge turned disapproving eyes to him. 'I would not like it to be said that the Ministry condemns people - whatever their crimes - without at least listening. But we will not change either the charge or the sentence, Albus.'

'In that case, I would like to register my objection.'

'It has been registered,' said the secretary taking minutes automatically.

'And I would like to tender my resignation from this committee.' Fudge sucked in his breath.

'Oh, come now, Albus, isn't that a bit much? After all, it's not exactly a crucial matter.'

Professor Dumbledore's face was angry. He stood up. Every eye in the room was upon him.

'Not exactly a crucial matter?' he echoed. 'I don't know what the rest of you think, but I would imagine that such a miscarriage of justice is indeed a crucial matter.' He glared at the elderly wizards sitting uneasily around the table. The Daily Prophet news correspondent who had been representing the press at this conference was watching raptly, scribbling shorthand notes with a charmed quill.

'Well … Albus, you must consider … I mean, we need your advice …' Fudge stammered.

Dumbledore considered how much easier things would be if he had accepted the post of Minister when they had offered it so long ago. 'It scarcely seems so.'

Fudge turned hopelessly back to the rest of the committee. 'Well, why don't we take a final vote?' he said, sounding as if he were single-handedly trying to restore sanity to the world. 'All those who support the original proposition raise their wand hand.'

The count was twelve for, and one against. 'I'm sorry, Albus, you're outvoted.'

Dumbledore said nothing.

'The Kiss will go ahead.' He rose from the table, followed by Macnair. Dumbledore swept from the room before them.

Arion was still standing guard by the door of the Securitas Room. 'Are they both still there?' Dumbledore asked at once.

'Of course.'

'The Dementors should up be here soon.'

Arion nodded. 'I'll let you and Lupin out when they arrive, shall I?'

'Please.' Privately, Dumbledore feared that Remus would not be leaving any more than Sirius would, but he did not say so. He would try to prevent that, at least.

Two pairs of eyes turned to him as soon as he entered.

'I'm sorry. I tried everything I could.' Dumbledore had rarely felt so utterly useless; not since the deaths of the Potters had he felt this dull pain.

Sirius looked at Remus. 'It looks like it's over, then.' His voice was almost controlled. Remus' face was white, with odd red blotches as though he was about to cry, but he did not. 'Remus, I know - what you're thinking. But you have to stay alive, you have to live, for Harry's sake.'

'Sirius - you know … you've always been such a good friend to me…' He grasped his hands suddenly. 'I won't fail you now.'

Dumbledore stood away, knowing that his interference would not be wanted. The door swung slowly open, and the room became dark and cold. A towering figure stood on the threshold, dwarfing the two men beside it.

'Dumbledore, Lupin, you'd better come out now,' called Arion, still calm. Remus flung his arms around Sirius, holding him close, and then raised his wand. He pointed it directly at Sirius' heart. His hand was shaking.

'Go on,' said Sirius steadily. 'It's better this way.'

The Dementor stepped forward, and slowly lowered its hood. Remus glanced for a second at it, and drew a long, shuddering breath.

'I'm sorry,' he gasped in a broken voice. Sirius was looking at him imploringly as the Dementor came nearer.

'Lupin, what do you think you're doing?' snapped Fudge. 'Get out of there!'

'Please, Remus…' Sirius stretched out his hands to him. Remus tried to steady his shaking wand.

And then there were running footsteps in the corridor, and a new voice. 'Is this where - where Black is being held?'

'What on earth…?' Fudge spun around. Recognising the voice, Dumbledore caught his breath and dragged Remus' arm down. The Dementor paused as Dumbledore pointed his wand at it.

'Wait!'

'Listen to me, all of you!' Severus Snape pushed past the Dementor, past Arion and Fudge and Macnair, who were too stunned to stop him. He looked at Sirius and Remus for a long time as they stood frozen. 'He's innocent,' he said at last.

Fudge and Arion gasped, and Macnair turned purple with anger. Dumbledore was watching Severus with pleased eyes. And Remus and Sirius could only stare open-mouthed.

'How - how the hell do you know?' demanded Fudge roughly.

'You all know what I do for the League,' said Severus. His voice was twanging with tension. 'I have spoken with - with the traitor Peter Pettigrew, very recently. And with Voldemort.' Fudge swallowed hard at the sound of the name, and Macnair flinched. 'Black - Sirius Black - did not kill Pettigrew, nor does he work for Voldemort.'

'But - but you said - last summer - you said he was guilty then … you were our primary witness …' Fudge was gaping slack-jawed at him as though he had suddenly grown another head.

Severus' eyes were very black. 'I - did not have the evidence I do now.' They weren't going to make this easy for him. And with the Dementor towering in the background, his head was full of the darkest of thoughts. As if he could read his mind, Dumbledore stepped forwards.

'I suggest, Fudge, that you send the Dementor away and we will continue this discussion more amicably.'

'Right, of course, yes,' said Fudge, stunned, and barked an order at Macnair. As soon as the Dementor glided away, with Macnair forcing it at wand-point, the room felt warmer, and the lights came back on. Outside, the sky was turning from black to navy above the lights of London. Sirius and Remus were still staring at Severus, who was looking into the distance unseeingly. Dumbledore smiled.

'Well, Severus, I have to say I'm impressed with you.'

Severus bristled. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Nothing, nothing,' Dumbledore replied quietly. 'Carry on.'

Severus looked around at his audience. 'It's quite simple. Sirius Black is innocent. I have the proof of my own eyes, and I imagine that Professor Dumbledore will tell you the same story.' The words stabbed him even as he spoke, but he carried on. 'Peter Pettigrew is alive, and working for Voldemort.' He looked furiously at Fudge's blank expression. 'Are you a complete idiot? It's true, I tell you. You - you have no idea…' He turned away.

Professor Dumbledore stepped forwards again. 'Well, now, Cornelius, I think you will have to reconsider your decision in the light of Severus' evidence,' he said, unable to keep all the triumph from his tone. Fudge nodded dumbly.

Remus and Sirius were still standing close. Thoughts were whirling through Remus' head incoherently. Snape - Snape, who hated him, had saved Sirius. He was too stunned to speak. Then, silently, Sirius extended his hand to Severus. Severus stood there, motionless, and then he took Sirius' hand. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it properly. For a moment the hatred flickered again in his eyes, more violent than ever before, but then it faded. He let his hand fall, and paced to the solitary window.

Remus turned to Sirius then, and embraced him. He felt he would float away on joy.

'You're free,' he murmured. Sirius looked dazedly at him.

'Yes,' he said, as though he were just waking up. 'Yes, I am.' His look of incredulity made Remus burst out laughing. The sound echoed around the room like trumpets. Dumbledore crossed over to them and smiled benignly.

'Excellent,' he said warmly. 'Quite excellent.' He looked at Severus, who was still staring into the sky, and his smile deepened with pride.

The thought of all the explanations that would have to follow made Severus feel ill. How many times would he have to repeat that he had been wrong, explain his stupidity? He felt terrible, but at the same time oddly lightened.

Are you happy now, James? Will you leave me in peace? I have repaid my debt.

THE END

Is there anything you want to say? Please? Just to tell me you liked/hated it? Writing it was an incredible experience. I had a fit of the scribbles one evening, and worked solidly for hours.

Blaise.
7th February 2000